I’m here to tell you the truth. And the truth is that Tamako Market is any moe-lover’s dream—on the outside, at least. In case I haven’t mentioned this already, everything is cute. In fact, the cuteness is played up to such a level that all you see, all you notice, is cute. The animation is bright and bubbly and perfectly moe; it fits an anime of this caliber and deserves praise for setting the stage. The voice acting and music will not disappoint. On the outside, Tamako Market is glorious and if one is content with this then good enough for them. But for those of us who begin to question the cuteness, for those of us who find that the cuteness isn’t enough to stop critical analysis, a deeper look is in order. For the sake of this review, I will break through Tamako Market’s façade. There are few layers beneath. Actually, it’s painfully simple, even more so than some other slice of life anime out there.
Despite the bubbly aura that the animation and music emanates, Tamako Market feels uninspired and, weirdly enough, even bland. This isn’t because it’s a slice of life anime. In fact, anime of this genre often have an inexplicably entertaining quality despite the commonplace happenings. Where other similar anime stand strong, fortified by character chemistry and those signature quirky events, Tamako Market can’t seem to establish itself. Everything is there to create another wonderful edition to the world of moe—right? Actually, no. The deeper parts of moe and slice of life, the parts that leave a good anime fan satisfied, are not merely looks but what’s on the inside. It’s just like the question of best girl. She may have to be cute, but there are a lot of cute girls and when it comes down to it, her heart matters more.
For anime, the heart is something known as plot and characterization.
Tamako Market starts off pretty well, introducing us to the cool and friendly place where Tamako lives and Dera, a pompous bird that she just happens to encounter. The story basically revolves around Tamako’s daily life with this bird, her friends, and mochi. The one thing that Tamako Market tells us consistently is that mochi is great, mochi is good, and mochi is life. Otherwise, everything is loosely about friendship, family, and some sort of plot revolving around Dera that comes in when it wants to, only to be remembered when convenient and then sloppily handled at the end. For some, the amount of moe cuteness is enough; getting absorbed in it is fine for them. But the reason why all you see is cuteness and the reason why there’s so much of it is because there isn’t anything else. The best thing that Tamako Market could do was play that up, and it definitely did that. However, those of us looking for something deeper will only be content in watching this anime (though that does not mean they won’t enjoy the ride) instead of absorbing all that it has to offer. Tamako and her friends are the only thing that would make this anime remotely interesting—and that fact doesn’t fare well for it.
The dialogue is bland, the jokes are bland (and barely noticed), the crushes are bland (and very badly handled), and the characters (especially the ones with the most screen time) are bland. The latter is the reason why the former is bland. The characters that had promise on episode one bore you by episode twelve because they’re exactly the same. The archetypes that you were introduced to don’t have any deeper facts, quirky characteristics, or new emotions to show you that twelve episodes have passed. Where many slice of life anime keep you interested with facts or entertaining life stories or at least a deeper kind of characterization, Tamako Market doesn’t stretch its legs. All of them are insipidly themselves—Tamako is forever cute and naïve, Kanna is forever unusual, Midori is forever bubbly-ish. In fact, perhaps unsurprisingly, but definitely unfortunately, the most interesting and promising characters are the ones with the least amount of screen time.
The reason why Tamako Market fails to inspire praise is because it doesn’t handle itself well. Though another (not implausible) reason is that perhaps it thinks it doesn’t need to, so long as there’s cuteness. Many will agree with that and many anime veterans will not.
Look in each corner, my friends. In one, we have cuteness, the appealing shell. In the other, we have a gray, murky goop, the unappetizing innards. The question of which one will win can only be answered by you, the viewer.
