Love Gay Mermaids? Then You Need To Watch Goodbye, Lara

Goodbye, Lara Is The Little Mermaid With A Sapphic Anime Twist Published Jul 27, 2026, 10:00 AM EDT Jade King is Lead Features Editor at The Gamer and University of Sussex journalism graduate with 10+ years covering the video game industry. She has been seen in outlets such as Trusted Reviews, Kotaku UK, VICE, and more over the years covering everything from the latest releases to major events to in-depth interviews. She loves nothing more than speaking with devs, creatives, voice actors, and so many others about the passion behind their craft and bringing that into the hearts of readers everywhere. People assume I watch far more anime than I actually do. I spent my teenage years making friends with fellow weeaboos on Twitter and cosplaying at conventions while also keeping up with and catching up on the best this medium had to offer. I watched a bunch, but soon after starting university, moving to a new city, and making new friends, it fell by the wayside. I kept up with the popular stuff and fell in love with movies like Your Name, but no longer came that moment where I sat down and decided what shows to watch every season. So when a show comes along and truly captures my attention, I know it’s something special. I’m also a giant lesbian, so girls loving girls help a lot, too. This brings me to Goodbye, Lara — an original spin on The Little Mermaid produced by Kinema Citrus and directed by Takushi Koide. It takes a familiar fairy tale foundation and uses it — judging by the first three episodes that have currently aired at least — to tell a subversive romantic story where the Princess that should be destined for a Prince is anything but. In fact, the final moments of the third episode have her seemingly falling in love with another girl. This mermaid gay. Good for her. But I’m getting carried away, so let me lay out the basic premise. The titular Lara is a young princess growing up in a luscious underwater kingdom ruled by her strict, albeit loving father. She and her sisters are expected to grow up and fall in love in order to awaken powers that can help keep their gorgeous home protected from outside forces. They are also forbidden from communicating with humans or the outside world, which goes against a plot point from the original novel where mermaids are encouraged to breach the ocean surface after hitting a certain age. We watch Lara go from a fish-chomping toddler to a young child to a teenager who wants to see what human society is all about. After saving the Prince from drowning after his ship is set ablaze, she is scolded by her father and imprisoned. Luckily for her, an evil witch sneaks into her cell and offers a potion that can turn her into a human, but if she fails to find true love, she’ll turn to foam and be reborn. I think I probably need to rewatch the first episode to make sure I’ve got everything straight. Or in this case, gay. Because after spending countless days and nights within the human world held in the arms of a doting Prince despite the potion taking away her voice, when the time comes to confess her love, Lara turns back into a mermaid and is turned away. The heteronormative confession I expected to see ends in rejection as Lara returns to a transformed home which is now destroyed with her family nowhere to be seen. I won’t spoil anything else, but there are emotional stakes here that the opening episode does an incredible job of establishing with tremendous animation, charming characters, and whimsically melancholic music. The evil witch I mentioned ends up being transformed into a fish and living with Mari as an adorable pet. A convenient plot device to explain mermaid-specific things to certain characters. Our girl awakens 200 years later and is once again entranced by the witch to gulp down a human potion, head to the surface, and fall in love. Except now, she can talk. The last few moments have her propelled by a blast of water into the human world as she stares in awe at the modern world set out before her, all before she dramatically drops to the surface and into the arms/fists of love interest Mari Otsu. The two become fast friends despite differing circumstances and Lara knowing nothing about her new surroundings, and if the narrative thus far is any indication, they might soon fall in love. And Why It Could Tell A Truly Unique Sapphic Love Story Lara spends the second episode exploring the surrounding seaside town for the first time and figuring out how things work, whether that involves getting stuck in traffic, loitering on the doorstep of a convenience store, or accidentally signing up for a loyalty card. It makes for some great comedic moments, but ends in saccharine sweetness when all she wants is to return to Mari because she’s the only person in this world she can trust. A butch bastion emanating safely from her broad shoulders. Mari is also a determined amateur boxer, a sport which is used within the narrative as a core allegory for queerness and as an outlet of aggression for seemingly losing her mother a few years earlier. Much of the third episode is about this multi-faceted passion, ending in a fierce match that Lara interrupts by climbing into the ring and trying to protect her. During their walk home, Mari remarks that she likes ‘funny characters’ like Lara after saying she is welcome to stay with her because she has nowhere to stay, a declaration that covers Lara’s cheeks with a brush as some random object bursts out of the water to visually signify her burgeoning feelings. The swelling music, darling animation, and soft dialogue make it glaringly obvious that Goodbye, Lara is walking down the lesbian route. The music here is also wonderful. Goodbye, Lara does a killer job of depicting the fleeting escapism of the countryside and how we all desperately pine for such a life even when hardships accompany it. I have a feeling the coming episodes will follow Lara meeting up with a reborn version of the illustrious Prince who might even try to win her favour this time around, only for Lara to learn that her heart lies only with Mari. There is also the matter of reuniting with her lost family and whether the Witch turned Fish is up-to-good or now just serves as expositional comic relief. I am so excited to see where this original spin on The Little Mermaid goes, especially with the creators of queer icon Revue Starlight behind it. So, if you’re somewhat disillusioned by the state of modern anime but want to sink your teeth into an ongoing show that boasts queerness, comfort, and romance in equal measure, then I wholeheartedly recommend Goodbye, Lara.