Collecting Anime Cels: A Mini Guide for Beginners

By Megan Scussel

Have you wondered what all the hoopla about anime cels is? People around
the world are discovering how insanely fun it is to collect these pieces
of animation history. Created by painting images on transparent plastic
then placed under a camera, cels played a huge role in the shows many
anime fans grew up with, from Speed Racer to Sailor Moon.

A must-read guide for old school anime fans or anyone curious about the
hobby, Collecting Anime Cels is filled with tips and tricks to start
your own cel collection, including:

• How to pick your theme or niche
• How to cut costs and save money
• How to preserve and store your cels
• Where to find the best stuff
• And more!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Scussel
• Release date: May 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463743829

Megan Scussel

An avid (some might say passionate) anime fan, Megan Scussel has been collecting cels for over fifteen years, and is a former contributor on the subject for MyM magazine. When not seeking out her next great treasure, she enjoys watching obscure black and white Japanese movies and spending time with her dog.

Book preview

1  Why Collect Anime Cels?

DO YOU REMEMBER THE old days of anime fandom? The days before digital downloads, cheap boxsets, and simultaneous streaming?

I sure do.

We all know the official release selection in America was abysmal and overpriced in the early days. To watch both versions of an anime (English and Japanese), it was necessary to invest in separate VHS tapes. Since tapes were priced roughly $30–$40 each (if memory serves), buying a whole series could cost hundreds of dollars.

My own introduction to anime began innocently enough, thanks in part to the USA Network and Sailor Moon reruns. The bright, expressive eyes and pastel colors of Naoko Takeuchi’s universe caught my attention immediately. I wished to learn more, but because the internet was in its infancy, finding information was particularly challenging.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to stay in the dark for too long. While browsing through Borders one summer day in 1997, my sister approached me with a magazine in her hand. This magazine was called Animerica, and the character on the cover was Usagi (I referred to her as Serena at the time) from Sailor Moon. I had to have it.

Animerica was, to put it lightly, a godsend for this wayward high school student. I could read reviews, scan through the fanart section, and stay up-to-date on licenses. My back-issue collection grew so massive, I eventually had to give them away, lest they take over my closet.

Around the same time, I also started to watch the Sci-Fi Channel’s Saturday morning movie lineup. Project A-ko, Dominion Tank Police, Tenchi Muyo—the selection was meager, but it was enough. After all, we couldn’t be picky. When an anime caught my fancy, I preserved it on tape.

Of course, the more anime fans you knew, the greater your grasp of what was available outside North America. I had a friend (we’ll call her Amy) who had what I dubbed an anime shrine in her room. From posters to figurines, there was always something new and fresh to admire. Whatever I was in the mood to watch, she had a suitable anime sitting on her bookshelves.

When I asked Amy where she got her selection (I had certainly never seen anything like it at Best Buy), she took me to a local comic book store. That is where I learned about fansubs, a lifechanging event for anyone at that time.

I admit that I wasn’t aware of the legality of fansubs, nor the fact that fansubbers discouraged profiting from them.

The comic store, whose name escapes me now, sold fansubs in shoddy, poorly labeled cases at $15 apiece. While I was most certainly duped, I wouldn’t trade