Though marginally tedious at times and the weakest of this arc, this episode was, for the most part, pretty good and thoroughly interesting, as it focused, at least in the latter half, on the continued examination of their slowly-realized knowledge towards the animalistic instincts of their society’s elders, and how, in turn, these cruelties have begun to affect them. The subdued nature of this episode was quite refreshing, but the narrative developments within, though compelling, felt unnecessarily stretched, particularly the first half, as the material was implemented with a rather mediocre touch for pacing. As such, several seemingly inconsequential moments, though occasionally derived from a particularly intriguing complexity, were detrimentally lingered on, such as the search for Mamoru, which became marginally repetitive.
My favorite sequence was their dreaded realizations following the exploration into Mamoru’s memories of the copycat, as they carefully unraveled the truth within a fragment of their partially artificial and wholly regulated existences. As such, one of the most compelling elements within the narrative throughout this arc is the thoroughly nuanced handling of their slowly-developing maturity, as the veiled façade of their decayed and oppressive society is slowly withering away, due largely to their renewed ability to perceive beyond their well-worn naivety, which has, in turn, revealed a plethora of cruel manipulations, effectively propelling Saki and the others to, once again, adhere to their rebellious inclinations. The wistfully haunting music that was used throughout the conclusion was yet another fantastic selection.
One of the most interesting moments was Mamoru’s unsettling recollection of the copycat’s second appearance. Both sequences, particularly the second, displayed some great storyboarding. Also, the isolation of Mamoru’s voice as the copycat edged closer was a particularly effective touch. Mamoru’s rather sympathetic speech was surprisingly emotional, as it provided insight that, though somewhat expected, illuminated an intriguing depth to his characterization. The melancholic musical selection that accompanied this moment complemented the mournful nature of his words exceptionally well. I especially liked that it was silenced as soon as Mamoru mentioned the appearance of a copycat. Though I’m typically intrigued by Saki’s intermittent bits of ominous narration, it was implemented in a rather mediocre fashion at the conclusion of this episode, since the inferences were largely rudimentary.
The search for Mamoru, though quite interesting, was slightly tedious at times. Thankfully though, whatever vague monotony had crept into the episode was nearly diminished to a seeming non-existence by the exceedingly melancholic and highly significant conclusion, in which the shroud of clouded uncertainty is finally removed. The decay of their practically illusory society has been beautifully illustrated throughout this entire arc, illuminating a particularly deft sensibility towards methodically deconstructing their manipulated perceptions of the world they had so obliviously clung to since they first arrived in it. The gradual transition into an acceptance of their inclinations for rebellion has been superbly depicted, as this complexity is a consistently intriguing element within the story, and I hope it continues to be focused on as the story progresses.
There was a distinctly surprising level of insightful exploration into Maria and Mamoru’s poignant relationship. I loved the rather significant flourishes of pained emotions that were filtered into Maria’s search for Mamoru throughout much of the episode, as they excellently conveyed a necessary complexity to their connection; one that had only been intermittently and vaguely touched upon prior to this episode. This was especially evident whenever an unrealized fear would be awakened, as Maria would adorn a sort of frenzied despair. Maria’s proclivity for needlessly jumping throughout, however, was a distracting affectation, as it excessively contrasted with Saki and Satoru’s comparative actions.
One of the most intriguing aspects within this episode, and the entire narrative, for that matter, is the fatalistic foreshadowing that has been subtly woven throughout. Initially, of course, Shun was seemingly shadowed by a certain inevitability within his limited life expectancy, marked by a plethora of socially divergent tendencies and an abundance of surrealistic imagery that directly foretold of an ever-approaching death. Then, though subtly alluded to in several earlier episodes, particularly the fourth, Maria and Mamoru‘s fates seem to have acquired this determined brevity to them. Of course, since they have always appeared to be inexorably bound together, it increasingly feels as though their lives will eventually be extinguished, which was further strengthened by the preview for the next episode, as their conversation appears to possess a sort of finality to it.
Though somewhat inconsistent, the direction was pretty solid throughout, especially during Mamoru’s moderately surrealistic memories. One of the most impressively framed shots within this episode was the quietly significant isolation of Saki, Maria, and Satoru’s faces upon first encountering the edge of the Holy Barrier, in which their forlorn expressions peeked through a miniscule separation in the rather imposing tapestry. It was a hauntingly effective shot, particularly due to it’s appropriately lingering nature, which essentially accentuated the deeply foreboding atmosphere. This episode was occasionally well-animated, particularly the moments that involved their expressive reactions towards unforeseen complications, but it was also quite inconsistent.
Musically, this episode was consistently great, as this particular aspect of the show, though it was occasionally mediocre throughout the first arc, has excelled throughout the second. I particularly liked the considerably ominous musical selection that accompanied the sequence in which Saki and the others discover Mamoru’s abandoned sled, since it was greatly complementary to the tragically hopeless nature of this fleeting revelation. Visually, this episode was quite good, though not entirely impressive, aside from it’s rather excellent backgrounds, which illustrated the deceptively serene desolation that surrounded their excursion.
All in all, though this episode wasn’t nearly as fantastic as the last, From the New World continues to excel with it’s narrative execution, relatively intricate writing, and the immensely foreboding atmosphere that permeates nearly every episode. The narrative, so far, has been masterfully constructed, particularly in it’s ability to remain incredibly consistent, since, aside from the mediocre conclusion to the first arc, nearly every episode has been suffused with intriguing developments and a beautifully foreboding atmosphere, as though every seemingly miniscule fragment of information or subtle foreshadowing was deftly woven into this thoroughly well-written tale. This, in turn, results in a story that rarely deteriorates, perpetually maintaining this superbly effective and comprehensively compelling focus. |