All of which brings us to the anime in question, Kachou Ouji (Black Heaven). A show about a nine-to-five schmuck going through a midlife crisis, who, through a series of ridiculous events, is pleaded by a blonde bombshell from outer-space to save the world by picking back up his musical instrument. With his guitar playing skills becoming the only way to protect mankind from annihilation, a life defined by decades of tedium has finally been reinvigorated. This is the tale of a former rock star who ended up cutting his blossoming career prematurely to raise his family. A decision that led him into the cubicle-space hivemind, beating away at his keyboard day in and day out in order to bring bread to the table. With nothing to look forward to but heaps of paperwork and business seminars, this otherworldly woman offers him an escape from his vapid lifestyle; a man past his prime given a second chance at what he loves. And in the process of playing his music to save humanity, he also—you guessed it—rekindle the fleeting youth of his glory days.
If you haven't guessed by now, the story and premise of Black Heaven is not just literal, but also allegorical. It externalizes the inner turmoil that our protagonist is going through, creating a metaphysical environment that allows us as viewers the chance to examine him in the process. Its narrative structure and motifs are similar to that of other abstract works like FLCL (Fooly Cooly) and Abenobashi. While being nowhere as bombastic or eccentric as FLCL, it similarly handled the protagonist's midlife crisis to how FLCL handled its coming-of-age themes. With rock 'n' roll and the guitar being used as a motif to embody that youthful spirit and unkempt sexuality, what is seen on the surface is only as important as what they truly represent in our protagonist's life. This lends itself to several innuendos, some subtly surfacing to the foreground while others are shamelessly on-the-nose. Black Heaven is all about guided interpretation. Where some shows with this narrative structure may have some semblance of ambiguity as to what they're alluding to, Black Heaven is very upfront about what it represents, taking no detours to beat around the bush.
Black Heaven is far from your typical anime outing, and perhaps no defining feature best establishes that than its targeted demographic itself. It should come as no surprise that a majority of anime is aimed at teens to young adults. Black Heaven's sense of humor and situational awareness is, first and foremost, directed towards older adults (which should be a no-brainer given the subject matter). It's an anime that thematically has more in common with Oscar-winner Crazy Heart than it does anything found in the medium's usual canon.
It's not something that's trying to be gut-wrenchingly funny or instantaneously gratifying either, as it instead decides to draw humor and intrigue from relatable, commonplace issues that come with adulthood and all that it entails. It's a show that approaches the ordinary through a warped lens, never letting the growing pains of everyday life slip pass it. It's humorous because you "get it." You "get" the frustration that comes standard when dealing with an overbearing boss. You "get" how being caught up in the work environment could place distance in your social life, as well as your imitate relationships. You "get" how daily responsibilities can often strong-arm you into placing your hobbies on the back-burner. You "get" what our protagonist Oji Tanaka is going through, and in the process, chuckle at it, having experienced similar things yourself. And even if you haven't found yourself facing the same dilemmas firsthand, you've possibly seen this occur with your parent/guardian(s) in retrospect. If you're old enough to grasp these troubles, it's easy to appreciate the show's endearment and honesty in depicting the growing pains of being a worker-ant and family man.
While most of Oji's problems were played up for comedic effect, there's still a general sense of pity draped over his situation. Here's a man unsatisfied with the status quo of his home-life to such an extent that there's a rift forming between him and his loved ones. With a son whom he feels alienated from and a marriage just going through the motions, Oji is at the end of his proverbial rope, dangling with nothing left but memories of his youth. And as surreal as the concept may get at times, the humanistic endeavors remain down to earth.
The mundane meet surrealism, comedy meet sobering reality—Black Heaven juggles them simultaneously, resulting in Oji's journey being a roller coaster ride of failure and triumph. At one minute you're snickering at his misfortune, and by the next, you're rooting for his success. And while other named characters occasionally get screen-time, the story remains Oji's, and Oji's alone. It's his woes; everyone else is just along for the ride.
And really, at the end of the day, that's all the show needed to do. There's just something inherently intriguing about viewing someone else's plight. We never want to be at the receiving end of these troubles, but seeing others work through theirs always manages to command viewer attention.
And to keep that attention, the show straddles our lead with a few companion characters. One of which is the extraterrestrial-bombshell mentioned earlier, Layla Yuki. Apart from our protagonist, Layla receives the most screen presence throughout the show. With a compelling mystique and sultry demeanor, it doesn't take much for her to honey-trap Oji into submitting to her whims. She encompasses an innate desire, a type of sensuality that could only be birthed from unbound sexual freedom; which makes her not only a pivotal character but a symbolic presence as well. She's the embodiment of Oji's bachelor days, free of marriage, of parental duties, of responsibility. His desire for her is a desire for his former self, which ties into an unspoken real-life truth for a reason men of his age often cheat with women still at the prime of their youth. Yes, there's a sexual urge present, but the motivating agent on a subconscious level is often just wanting to feel "young" again.
Aside from her, we're also introduced to a ditzy comedic trio (names irrelevant) who operate similarly to that of The Three Stooges. They often lend their assistance, whether it was requested of them or not, and usually end up being more trouble than they're worth. Despite serving no further purpose beyond their hijinks as comedic reliefs, they were a welcome addition to the show. This also extends to the other side characters as well. They don't demand your attention, but their inclusion was still well-received. They breathed life into the situations that they were a part of and contributed in their own little way to making Oji's expedition one that was far more wholesome than had it been a one-man show.
Another aspect that adds to this journey is without question the music selection. Given that the show chronicles the life of a former rock star, a proper opening theme was in order. And what better way to get each episode kickstarted than by having the intro song be performed by John Sykes, a writer for the rock band Whitesnake and former guitarist for Thin Lizzy. The song "Cautionary Warning" from Sykes's 1997 album, 20th Century, served just the right amount of spunk and bravado needed to get you pumped up for each new episode. With a snarling cadence that could only be delivered by a veteran with experience in his craft and a guitar riff that's toe-tappingly infectious, the opening song is a love-letter provided by Sykes, boasting all the tricks he's acquired over his luxurious 30+ years performing in the music industry.
Almost serving as a counterbalance to the electrifying opening, the closing track is a bubblegum pop number with hints of jazz and funk undertones. It's cute in a way that befits Black Heaven's warped sense of style and humor.
But even after factoring in everything going for it, there are still many issues that plagued this anime. For one, despite the strength of the standout musical tracks, the actual musical selection was insufficient; often reincorporating an instrumental version of the opening theme for whenever the protagonist picks up his guitar. While the gradual progression of the song along with Oji's own progress in the show was a nice touch, the sheer amount of times the song was used did nothing but lessen its "pizzazz" as it continued onward. There are a few other accompanying tracks sparsely scattered throughout the show's run-time, but they were mostly drowned out by the Cautionary Warning tune's repetition.
Unfortunately, this cut-rate mentality didn't stop there, as it also affected the visual presentation for Black Heaven. It's below average, even by the standards of late 90s animation. Reused sequences were often implemented whenever it was possible, and outside of a few keyframes demonstrating some semblance of quality, still-frames were often used to cut corners. On top of that, the character designs are widely inconsistent or reduced to misshapen blobs if they're in the mid-ground or further away. "Shoestring budget" is what immediately comes to mind when discussing Black Heaven's production value. This isn't one of those cases where you could make the counterargument of "it's supposed to look cheap." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see Black Heaven wasn't high on the Studio heads' priority list.
Outside of presentation issues, the show lacked screenplay polish that could have been tightened up with a script revision. This doesn't come as much of a surprise, given the chaotic state of the presentation at times. Where it's forgiven is the fact that the premise doesn't go to waste despite the blemishes spotted upon initial viewing. Some things just needed to be trimmed down a little more to allow for a better flow in the narrative.
Despite these shortcomings, Black Heaven never felt bogged down by any of it; in fact, it could be argued (by some) that a few of these imperfections added to the show's charm. But that's more a matter of subjective preference than impartial assessment. It could have been assembled better but isn't handicapped by these drawbacks. What it lacked in pristine visuals, diverse sound selection, and a tighter script, it more than made up for with a sense of integrity and commitment to its tale.
Black Heaven was born out of the need to tell one story, Tanaka Oji's story, and by extension, teach us to live life to the best of our capabilities; finding happiness regardless of the hand we're dealt.
If you take the general storyboarding of American Beauty, add a dash of absurd allegorical visuals of Fooly Cooly, and filter it through a similar comedic lens of that of Welcome to the NHK, what you'd get is this humorous Japanese-salaryman monstrosity. Black Heaven was quite the surprise for me. Despite its humble offerings, Oji and company always manage to find a way to keep me entertained. And even when it played things out comically, the adult subject matter was always handled with a sense of responsibility.
Cheeky, charming, funny, and oddly enough, sobering, Black Heaven is a title that teaches us to find the silver lining, even during times when we find ourselves in a depressing slump.
It's not something that's going to blow your mind with groundbreaking revelations, nor is it a grandiose tale to defend earth (despite what the immediate premise alludes to). Where Black Heaven shines is in its commitment to telling a man's intimate struggle with no need for party tricks to keep the attentiveness of the viewer. It remains a small-scale identity crisis only inflated in relevance by the protagonist that's going through it. Where other titles would topple over with such self-imposed constraints, Black Heaven uses this very limited range as the driving force behind its narrative. It treats its audience with respect, trusting that they're mature enough to understand the intentions. There are not that many shows out there that could dare to do the same, and while a bit rough around the edges, its heart was in the right place. And for if only for that reason alone, Black Heaven has effectively become a mainstay among my cherished favorites.
