AI Remasters Infamous Anime 'My Sister, My Writer' Using Seedance in Groundbreaking Project

AI Remasters Infamous Anime 'My Sister, My Writer' Using Seedance in Groundbreaking Project

In a remarkable demonstration of artificial intelligence’s evolving role in media restoration, an anonymous creator has successfully remastered the widely ridiculed 2018 anime My Sister, My Writer—commonly known as ImoImo—using the generative AI tool Seedance. The project, which cost less than $50 in AI processing credits, transforms the original’s crude, amateurish visuals into cohesive, stylistically consistent scenes that align closely with the intended character designs, according to a detailed account posted on Reddit’s r/singularity community.

The anime, infamous for its jarring animation quality and the staff’s hidden SOS message in the closing credits, had long been considered a cautionary tale of rushed production. Yet this new AI-driven intervention suggests a paradigm shift: what was once dismissed as irredeemable may now be salvageable through computational creativity. The creator, who previously shared the results on Bilibili, documented a meticulous, iterative process that blends technical ingenuity with artistic intuition.

Initial attempts to use a 3x3 grid of keyframes alongside high-fidelity character references failed, yielding usable footage only between 00:09 and 00:14. The breakthrough came when the creator abandoned detailed visual templates and instead converted character references into abstract color blobs, effectively removing stylistic cues that Seedance had been blindly replicating. This method, described in a follow-up image post, drastically improved output fidelity by forcing the AI to reconstruct forms from spatial layout rather than mimic existing art.

Even with this refined approach, challenges persisted. In the scene at 01:52, Seedance continued to reproduce the color blobs as literal shapes rather than translating them into human figures. To resolve this, the creator employed Google’s Gemini to digitally erase the characters from the source frame, then fed the cleaned layout as a separate reference image. This two-step process—removing unwanted artifacts before re-prompting—proved critical in achieving plausible character placement and movement.

Another key innovation was the use of iterative refinement. Rather than treating each output as final, the creator re-fed Seedance’s outputs with prompts like “enhance facial structure” or “increase motion fluidity,” allowing for micro-adjustments without restarting the entire generation process. This feedback loop mirrors professional animation pipelines, where rough sketches are iteratively polished.

Notably, the AI struggled with nuanced facial expressions, rendering them overly subdued. The creator acknowledged this limitation, noting that manual redrawing might be faster than further AI experimentation, especially given depleted credit limits. Still, the overall results—demonstrated in side-by-side comparisons—reveal a level of visual coherence previously thought impossible for the source material.

This project underscores a broader trend: AI is no longer just a tool for generating new content, but a powerful agent for restoration and reinterpretation. As tools like Seedance become more accessible, studios and independent creators may increasingly turn to AI to revive or reimagine poorly produced media. The implications extend beyond nostalgia; they suggest a future where digital decay is reversible, and artistic intent can be resurrected through code.

While ethical questions around copyright and authorship remain, the technical achievement here is undeniable. For fans of My Sister, My Writer, what was once a laughingstock may now be seen as a canvas for reinvention—a testament to how far AI has come, and how far it still has to go.