June 6th, 2016
Oregairu LN Notes
Anime Relations: Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru., Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru. Zoku
Volume 1
- Hikki is considerably lamer when you're reading his inner thoughts. Like, super lame. I must say, however, that he does make the LN quite enjoyable to read.
- As I recall from the first season, this initial material is really standard, rom-com like. There's no indication that the story is actually going places.
- Yui is also significantly sassier and tsundere in her LN portrayal. At this point, I can't tell if the differences from the anime portrayal are because of Hikki being an unreliable narrator (everything is in his lens, after all) or not.
Volume 2
- Up to Volume 2 Chapter 4 (which corresponds to S1 EP5), it seems that the anime adapted the LN pretty much scene-for-scene, albeit with the dialogues shortened for brevity. I wonder when that diverges.
- Great scene at the end of Volume 2. Hikki takes Yui's feelings as pity, when she really does find him interesting and enjoys his company. Yui probably approached Hikki out of moral obligation, but she definitely stayed because she likes him. Hikki is unable to accept that due to his lack of self-confidence and his being burned all his childhood. Watari's Afterword sums up Hikki's attitude the best:
> When you think about it, perhaps you might say that a boy, no matter what his age, is a teenager at heart. Those feelings of jealousy and frustration and ineptitude from one’s high school days never go away. And, with a confidence without any basis whatsoever, one embraces the toxic and incomprehensible contradiction known as, “I am the best at feeling inferior. I am totally superior.” I think doing this makes one able to continue dreaming forever.
Volume 3
- Yukino's mannerism of trying to act composed and failing hard is pretty cute I guess.
- Anything else I'm fine with, but my god does Zaimokuza's material suck. Everything about him is so fucking cringe, and he's far too ridiculous for me to take any of the "lessons" of the scenario seriously (e.g. follow your dreams!), which by the way they're embarassingly crude in execution. That whole batsu game with the UG club was just a total waste of my time. I really dislike how it interrupted the mood of Yui's conflict, and I'm so glad that the anime completely cut it out; the ending to episode 6 was so much better.
- Short aside: so Zaimokuza is supposed to be just another demonstration of how loners cope, and a lot of his behavior, particularly his treasuring of his relationship with Hikki (the only relationship he seems to be able to keep), is pretty sad but also pretty reasonable. As much as Hikki seems to openly disrespect Zaimokuza, he doesn't seem to be disgusted from the bottom of his heart, and Zaimokuza is very comfortable with that fact. He's his kindred spirit to some degree. Again, I'm sorta okay with Zaimokuza sticking around, as much of a bother as he is, as long as he doesn't have scenes shaped around him. The UG club scene was seriously dumb as hell.
- Short aside: I find it rather interesting how Hikki is so openly comfortable with Saika. Obviously a lot of it comes down to gag, but looking at it another way, Saika (and Zaimokuza) are people who probably wouldn't burn Hikki, so to some extent, they're part of his social bottom line (though that's mostly held up by Komachi), whereas Yui and Yukino and others are his frontier.
- For some reason, Yui's portrayal comes across as significantly less cute than I remember from the anime. Again, it's probably both the Hikki point of view coloring the portrayal and the character art making Yui out as a sassy loudmouth rather than the 'nice girl' she was in the anime. Regardless, this should change as the LN gets more serious, as Hikki becomes more invested in his Service Club relationships, and as the character drawings converge to that of the anime style.
Volume 4
- Oh boy, so Yukino likens Rumi to Yui instead of herself, and also drops a hint that Hayato wants to save Rumi to prevent a repeat of what happened in his childhood. Hayato mentions that he likes a girl whose name starts with Y, and Yukino bears a harsh attitude towards Hayato. So either the information regarding Yui is a red herring (what a subtle and easily-glossed-over red herring that would be), or Yukino being in Hayato's face all the time is the red herring (which would make a lot more sense as a red herring). If we're going by the former interpretation, then the two statements that Yukino dished out were unrelated (which does make sense), and Yukino is well aware that Hayato is seeing Yukino's image in Rumi. If we're going by the latter interpretation, then Yukino has either guessed at or observed Yui getting burned in her childhood, likely due to her association with Hayato. Yet that doesn't seem too plausible, as Yui doesn't seem to have any past connection to either Hayato or Yukino. That said, Yui does act a little awkward when addressing Hayato directly, yet that is also pretty understandable given Hayato's 'high' social status and Yui's sensitivity towards social dynamics. My god what a mess. (I want it to be the latter interpretation, as it can lead to a lot of juicy "feigned happiness" on Yui's part, not dissimilar to Hakomari's situation with Daiya and Kokone. This also makes Yui and Yukino's relationship that much more complex, especially if Yui actually does know Yukino from her childhood. Wow the possibilities.)
- If I'm interpretting this correctly, even as early as the 7th episode of the first season Hayato claimed that Haruno was looking out for Hikki because they think similarly.
- Man, what a chapter! Things are finally being set in motion: Hikki has shown his hand on how he conducts his dirty business. Hayato has finally opened up to Hikki, Yui has established the seeds of genuine friendship with Hikki, and the first real cracks in Yukino and Hikki's relationship have appeared. This was an engaging chapter all around.
- Short aside, but so many of Hikki's feelings toward social situations reflect the same type of social insecurities that I (and I'd assume many others) have, and if I was a bit more edgy or bitter in my teenage years, I would have definitely wholeheartedly believed Hikki's philosophy as well. From the remarks about riajuu, to "true riajuu" (in reaction to people like Hayato who that make you feel undeniably inferior), to the lack of genuineness in 'most' relationships that we observe from a distance, to the hypocritical shallow judgements based on shallow understanding of others (like dehumanizing a girl like Miura to her Mean Girl archetype), to the ideological pursuit of relationship purity, to the overly self-conscious and ultimately selfish view of everything that goes around... it gets a little too close for comfort, and that's what many perceive to be extraordinary about the work.
Volume 5
- Another excellent chapter, an intermission of interacting with several characters over summer break while Yukino is put in the background. This time around, the anime missed quite a few nice scenes, though none of them were that 'important' per se. The fireworks scene was just as good as I remember it (great Haruno and Yui material), and there's a good bit of foreshadowing of Hikki's emotional barrier with Yukino: he recognizes that he doesn't necessarily want to know more of her, and that he seems to be content to push the label of a strong, cold, righteous girl onto her. Yui is the only one to admit that she wants to get to know her friends in a genuine way, and all this mirrors what is going to play out in Zoku. Great stuff!
- Saika's still being used as a gag, but I don't actually mind the material much (unlike Zaimukuzo's, which just gets on my nerve.)
- Passage of time felt real here. I'm starting to see the value of Hikki's acquaintance characters.
- Short aside, but Yui's character has finally made it to her proper spot. The anime portrayal and LN portrayal has finally converged completely.
- Another short aside, a side-to-side comparison with the anime reveals a lot about what the producers valued, and how well they did their job. Long story short, I think that season 1 is a perfect adaptation (up to episode 9 right now). They nailed the atmosphere and design, included all the important monologues and scenes, left nothing to be desired of the big ideas, and mostly excluded extraneous material. For many of these episodes, even the ones that contained an entire volume's worth of content in them, I couldn't have done a better job myself.
Volume 6
- Great conversation between Hikki and Yui about their impression of Sagami. Yui's earnest attempt at honesty further reinforced her desire to take her friendships to the next step, and I was frankly surprised when Yui revealed that she had issues with Sagami using (or in her words, "getting along") with Yukino. Yui's way of expressing her thoughts reveals a lot about the way she thinks of other people and how she thinks she should act upon her own feelings. Her soft words, when parsed realistically, reveal a harder truth. Also, looking at the anime version of the scene, there are a few subtleties that I wish they didn't cut from the scene, like Yui's reluctance to talk about the subject because she didn't want to be viewed by Hikki as a bad girl, or Yui's wanting to 'monopolize' (in Hikki's words) her relationship with Yukino, or her excessively padded words. Now this is the kind of juicy detail I expected to get from going out of my way to read the LN.
- Okay, Hayato's past regret was definitely for Yukino. When he saw the way Sagami was reacting to Yukino (that mixture of inferiority and jealousy), he immediately knew how it was going to turn out, and he once again felt powerless to stop it. Meanwhile, Haruno is purposely challenging her sister by creating this awkward power struggle.
- I must say, Haruno in the LN is a lot more terrifying than in her S1 portrayal (but much more in line with her S2 portrayal). It's also hinted that Haruno is acting as 'the enemy' to stimulate Yukino's growth and possibly the growth of the her relationships with her friends as well. A very Hikki thing to do.
- Yui requests a date (pretty much) with Hikki, and Hikki actually 'allows' himself to take control of the time & place and take a step closer to Yui? Progress.
- Great stuff with the Sagami conflict as usual. This is definitely the climax of the first season. And with that, the season draws to a close.
- Yukino acknowledges her relationship with Hikki.
Volume 7
- The train scene with Yui leaning on Hikki (S2 Ep1) suggested much more attraction to Yui in the LN, whereas in the anime Hikki blushed to Saika and not Yui's actions. Hmm.
- Hikki seems to be very sensitive to Yui getting up in his personal space and acting all intimate. On the other hand, Hikki seems to be less sensitive to Yukino, while Yukino is really sensitive towards him. What is all this supposed to mean, I wonder.
- To be honest, I found this entire field trip slice-of-life to be quite dull. Not only are the tourist locations and Japanese culture stuff lost to me, but the characters didn't really do anything interesting either. (Unfortunately, this took up more than 80% of the volume.)
- Since when did Hayato start calling Hikki "Hikigaya"? Did he know all along?
- Hayato is able to reveal his true feelings to Hikki, whereas he has to keep up an image and a status quo to preserve his friendships. It's the fear of taking risks and moving forward; Hayato has also seen things lost and lost forever under his watch (probably related to Yukino), and so he prioritizes a preservation of the current happiness above all else. This will become a huge theme later, when it's applied to Hikki's own friendships.
- Hikki absolutely hated being pitied by Hayato, who understood what and why he did what he did. Pitying is to reject Hikki's philosophy, to see his actions as self-sacrifice, and that's something Hikki's pride cannot take. After all, he had built his entire philosophy to shield himself from pain, to rationalize that his life is okay when it's not, and Hayato's expression seemed to invalidate all that. Why? Because Hikki knows it himself. That deep down, he was miserable, and he was running away. And as he tried to rationalize his actions, and put up some self-defense against the inquiries of his friends, he realizes that he was deceiving himself, the thing he hated most. The truth is, he hated the way he did things as well. He hated not being able to admit that his pain was real, and he hated playing villain and hurting others. As much as he was 8man, he was just an emotionally sensitive and hurt teenager.
- Ebina, like Hikki, like Hayama, is highly self-aware, and because of her perceived emotional weaknesses, selfish desires, and lies, hates herself. Oh the juicy insecurities; this is exactly why I like stories like Oregairu so much.
Volume 8
- Hikki downplaying his own misery as usual. He doesn't even acknowledge it as the narrator; he just acts self-defensive and gets irritated at his sister (which is a surefire sign that it really is bothering him a lot).
- Lots of tension and passive-aggressive behavior going on here. Yikes. But then again, Hikki and Yukino's irritation probably arises from them caring a lot more about each other than initially. Such is the pains of getting closer to people.
- Komachi seems to understand that Hikki's whole dirty election tactics will run into trouble with Yui and Yukino.
- Hikki's friends helping him out was glossed over in the anime. Again, the LN makes use of the side characters more, for better or for worse.
- Aww, Meguri presenting that image of the Service Club being part of the student council was only briefly mentioned on the whim, unlike in the anime where it ended the episode on an impacting quote by Hikki and a terribly melancholic note.
- Actually, using that "what if" quote as Hikki reflected on the unsettling (terrifying) 'peace' he's created achieved more or less the same effect. I'm satisfied.
- Regarding the overall chapter, I found it a bit dull; the whole election arc was pretty unexciting and dodgy in itself (as unlike previous arcs, it was more about solving a specific problem and less about a reflection on social dynamics; as such, it was less personal and less relatable). While the developments among the main cast were certainly relevant, it's mostly just buildup and foreshadowing, so this volume definitely came across as a transition of sorts with a less-than-exciting subplot to go along with it. We also have no investment for this Iroha character who is just...there for now.
Volume 9
- Little moment with Saki and her little bro/sis. Saki might still have that misunderstanding where Hikki shouted "I love you!" during the cultural festival.
- Hayato's conversation with Hikki dripped with a kind of tension, a kind of respect, envy, whatever it may be, that felt like Hayato was lamenting his own powerlessness and seeing Hikki's strengths. It's pretty interesting.
- Hikki's meeting with Totsuka was nice. Totsuka had noticed that Hikki's been down recently, and he also knew that Hikki was avoiding the topic. Totsuka wanted to be relied on (as he thought that's what friends ought to do), and he genuinely admired Hikki's inherent kindness and sense of responsibility. Yet Hikki couldn't rely on Totsuka. While he trusted Totsuka and was comfortable around Totsuka, he couldn't consult with Totsuka, as he was far too self-conscious, and felt that Totsuka's optimistic ideals of friendship would be corrupted by his own personal failures. This friendship is actually a great reflection of how Hikki treats his relationships, and if there is ever a time in the future that Hikki finally does consult in Totsuka, I will finally consider Totsuka's character to be a worthwhile addition to the cast.
- This whole Christmas community subplot has been a really good breather for Hikki, both to show how much he's grown and to reflect on what he should be doing from now on. It reminds me a lot of Kousei's mentoring of Nagi in Shigatsu; it's when he removes himself from the oppressive hopeless loop and 'finds himself'. The pacing is a lot nicer than in the anime.
- Yukino and Hikki's exchange was as suffocating and tense as ever. The conflicts inherent in the vague words are piercing; Hikki has changed from the 'confident cynic' that he was when his ideals first matched Yukino's, and Yukino herself has admitted that she was not the strong girl she had pretended to be. There's a painful gap in their communication, and without some genuine attempt at opening up, nothing can be amended. Yet it was painful to do so, and Hikki himself didn't know what he wanted. When he couldn't reject Hayato's group's desire for the status quo as wrong, when he constantly found himself looking over to Hayato's group with interest, what did he get from it? What is it that he wants? Stay tuned for the next bullet point!
- Before that, there's the Hiratsuka exchange. She says that Hikki understands mentality, but not feelings. Also, "to cherish someone means to have the resolve to hurt them." Agh, there are so many lines I want to quote from the speech (maybe I'll just copy the whole speech down somewhere later), but the general gist is that Hiratsuka wants Hikki to not be afraid to act on his feelings, to change and challenge both himself and the situation. It's super warm and inspirational.
- He always considered his service actions from the positions of others, but it's time that he look at what he wants. Why has he been helping others all along? There was something in his childhood that he had slowly abandoned by getting burned time and time again, yet the desire was still there, and there had been moments that made him feel like it was possible.
- "Nothing could be conveyed without words, yet there was a mistake because there were words. So what exactly could we understand then? .. However, those honest tears were enough to tell me. That this time right now wasn’t a mistake at all." A turning point in Hikki's mindset.
- Yukino's responses to Hikki as she evaluated the trouble at the conference were rather interesting. She seemed to be surprised that Hikki didn't understand something, and she had assumed that everything she thought up would've been considered by Hikki already. What is this? Is this overestimation of Hikki's abilities a result of Hikki taking control of most of the past Service Club requests, or of Yukino's having an inflated image of Hikki much like he did of her, or both?
- Yukino mentions that she and Hayato "has always been watching" Haruno, something that suggests that Hayato really may have feelings for Haruno that we don't know yet.
- One thing I really like about a Hikki first-person narration is that many times, his narration would be clearly unreliable, and it would reveal quite a bit about his own mentality.
- I like how Hayato keeps bringing up that Hikki falsely sees him as a nice guy, yet Hikki genuinely believes that Hayato is a nice guy, and this is from the observation of a cynical prick who likes to look beneath every expression. Hikki probably values Hayato's underlying thought process as something that is nice, and he is probably right about that. Yet like Hayato, Hikki denies his own nice nature. The commonality between the two cases? High self-awareness and sensitivity.
- Hayato really does look up to Hikki in certain ways. The single biggest thing that plagues Hayato is his seeming lack of ability to change the fates of those around him, and yet Hikki does it so naturally and captures those around him in ways Hayato never could. Funnily enough, Hikki laments a similar thing in relation to Hayato's super social skills. Hayato really is a fantastic foil.
- Something huge that I missed out in the conference scene was that when Hikki was making a villain out of himself once again by stepping forth and spewing ugly (albeit true) words, Yukino decided to join in, likely to share the blame in consideration for Hikki. That was really sweet, and yet another step of progress in their relationship.
- The Christmas event moves forward without incident, and everything is back together again. Thankfully in the LN I don't have to deal with that overly conspicuous OP insert, and I actually understand what went on.
- Thus concludes the longest volume yet, covering over 500 pages and episodes 6 through mid-10.
Volume 10
- What it was that Hayato gave Yukino a long time ago? The Pan-san script thing, obviously!
- Hikki thinks that Yumiko is a cute girl for the first time? Yeah, it's interesting because Yumiko was introduced as this haughty girl on the top of the social ladder that guys like me would distance the hell away from, but getting to know her more reveals that she's just as human as the rest of us, and not a bad person either. Again, this speaks heavily to my personal experience; in that respect, my Peer Leadership program in high school really changed my view on things.
- Yumiko's declaration that she wants to understand Hayato even while running the risk of him resenting her is pretty reflective of Hikki's own concerns. Ever since he revealed that he wanted something genuine from his Service Club mates, and in particular, an understanding of those around him, he has been trying to gauge his distance with them, wondering whether or not certain things were appropriate to say, whether he was overstepping his boundaries.
- Good scene with Hikki acknowledging Saika as a friend.
- This volume has settled down to a nice slice-of-life pacing, including many scenes that are certainly nice to have. They aren't that crucial though, so I don't have a problem with the anime skipping over them.
- Recall that I wanted Hikki to consult with Saika over something important for me to consider Saika a worthwhile character; so far, that hasn't been fulfilled yet. Doing some underhanded favors isn't that.
- Hayato and Hikki having good moments again. They really are great together; I'm starting to empathize with Ebina's ship just a little.
- This volume had a lot of vague suggestions that I probably won't understand until the later volumes. Like who was behind the memorandums, what issues were being referred to, etc. After the super juicy 9th volume, this was more or less a breather before the next big conflict, probably.
Volume 11
- The Service Club dynamic is portrayed really nicely through the little details in their exchanges. They're slowly becoming closer to each other, embarrassed when pulled into a much closer distance, and Hikki's own little 'blunders' are quite charming.
- Then there's Iroha the troll.
- The anime captured most, if not all of the important material just fine.
- The ending is still vague as screw! Does Hikki actually know that he's in the middle of a love triangle? I feel like he does, but that he's turning his eyes away to preserve the fragile balance of things.
~Closing Thoughts~
- Normally I don't like reading novels, but Oregairu was quite easy to read because its prose, with the overwhelming first person perspective of Hikki, is closer to that of a VN.
- Many of the issues I have with the Oregairu anime, I still have with the LN. Primarily, it's an issue of plot writing: some of the school stuff is taken a bit too seriously for my liking, and Watari sometimes meanders on less-than-interesting material such as the school election rigging.
- I've compared the anime scene-to-scene with the LN, and for the most part, I'd say that the anime was a good adaptation. Reading the LN didn't really give any additional insight into the characters, another testament to how sufficient the anime was. That said, there certainly were a few good scenes that the anime skipped, but they were not crucial. Source material fans tend to be way too demanding when it comes to adaptation purity. (Probably the only notable blip was the adaptation of volume 10; the anime's pacing was a bit weird and disconnected.)
- One notable difference between the anime and the LN is that the side characters Saika and Saki seem to have a larger presence, and actually have a nice place for themselves. I wouldn't call them integral yet (in the sense that it's completely okay to remove their existence entirely), but they're not bad to have either. Zaimokuza, on the other hand, is a waste of oxygen and ink.
- Yui comes off as dumber in the LN. Still high EQ, but she constantly stumbles on basic facts and acts rather clumsy around her fellow nerds.
- I'll miss this story a lot. Oregairu features my favorite character cast of all time, and much of its nice character moments are akin to my own personal heaven in how wonderful they are to read. There's too much 'passable' downtime material for me to call it a consistently enjoyable experience (much like White Album 2 the VN), but it certainly ranks as one of my top 5 pieces of fiction. WHERE'S VOLUME 12 DIPSHIT WATARI.
Posted by ZeroHumor | Jun 6, 2016 8:01 PM | 0 comments
April 19th, 2016
True Tears
Anime Relations: True Tears
Once again we’re back in the realm of serious romantic drama, and boy is it a treat! True Tears excels at a lot of the fundamentals that make this type of story work: the characters are well-written, the drama complements characterization very well by stemming from inner insecurities rather than outside forces, and the situation never gets too ugly, allowing for sympathy and understanding across all sides of the cast. Nothing sucks more than drama for the sake of drama, or some kind of black-and-white portrayal in a story about people; this show avoids a lot of the pitfalls that I commonly see in an average shoujo romance, and its overall themes turn to coming-to-age development far more than the grueling mess of jealousy and romantic stagnation that I’ve come to find utterly revolting. This is a story about teenagers coming to terms with their feelings and their place in this world, and that kind of thing always hits a sweet spot for me.
Unfortunately, the show does stumble a bit on its way to the good material. During the first few episodes, certain scene transitions were rather awkward in a sense that I would be taken aback by how poorly the story seemed to flow. It’s like we were reading Shinichiro’s (MC) journal ridden with discontinuous jumps; one moment we’re at some normal family scene, and the next, we’re inside his head as he thinks up the story for the picture book he was drawing. It would take me 5-10 seconds to realize what happened, something that generally should never happen when I’m watching an anime. Another problem was character dialogue; while I get that Noe is supposed to be somewhat autistic, the issue of characters spouting out weird lines and seemingly talking to themselves in a middle of conversation also applied to Shinichiro and Hiromi, making certain scenes feel rather unrealistic. Alas, I checked who the director of this show was, and lo’ and behold he’s the director of Glasslip.
That said, these are only apparent issues in the beginning, and once the show finds its footing in its character exploration and drama, the story starts to flow a lot better. Contrary to what I just implied about Director-san, a lot of what he does actually wins my confidence in his competence. For one, the atmosphere of the show is really good. It has a gentle touch to it, enhanced by the melodious background music and the general sense of sensitivity to its characters. Moreover, the show is exceptional at being subtle with its characters, choosing to convey a lot of its character emotion through expression, and a lot of its character thought through easily-overlooked action and body language. I tend to like this style of portrayal a lot, as I think characters are brought alive by the variety of expression that a visual medium can portray, and that it is in some sense more rewarding to get to know a character this way.
As for the material, well, I feel pretty ambivalent about the whole chicken motif. Initially its usage felt out-of-place, as if the story was trying too hard to make some kind of weird connection between the chickens and the main characters work, and it did hurt my immersion to a certain extent. It was frankly ridiculous at times, and something about the abstract dialogue between Shinichiro and Noe didn’t really do it for me. Of course, it came to my surprise when the show actually managed to land the point with success later on, and that this whole storybook subplot evolved into some sort special connection between Shinichiro and Noe that I could never imagine taking away. I still don’t necessarily think that it was a great idea, but for better or worse it ended up working.
Likewise, Noe herself was a weird nut that I had a lot of trouble with initially, as her constant reference to unshed tears and flying in addition to her generally weird as hell behavior made her an exceptionally opaque character to me. Funnily enough, she turns out to be one of the most strikingly candid and heart-on-sleeve characters among the cast of troubled teenagers, and her inspirational influence on the protagonist becomes a subject of great endearment and pain as the story moves to a close. Her position in the story is particularly puzzling when you take into account her endearing quirkiness and thematic relevance; in any other story she would’ve been the main heroine, yet True Tears ultimately chose Hiromi, a decision that seems to be controversial among the audience.
Hiromi’s role throughout the story is a bit of a head scratcher as for what the writer was aiming for. She was initially the classic tragic heroine stuck in a situation where she can’t pursue her true love for certain socially restrictive reasons, and her awkward relationships with both Shinichiro and his mother are portrayed with a lot of nuance. So much detail got poured into a subplot that ended up being resolved on a whim, and that conclusion was one that I could not really accept even if I can rationalize why it happened. Afterwards, Hiromi’s role became a lot more ambiguous, and she just kinda lingered around and took on an adversarial position that didn’t do her character much good. While I get what the writer was aiming for in putting Hiromi through so much emotional trouble, I don’t think it was particularly appropriate for the main heroine, especially in contrast to Noe’s role. It’s almost as if the writers were setting Hiromi up for failure against the eyes of the viewer; she became very difficult to sympathize with (albeit still understandable), and the entire portrayal of her romantic conflict towards the end felt messy. It was never bad material per se, but it just didn’t come together very well.
Shinichiro’s characterization did come together really well, however, and it’s quite rare for me to claim that the male protagonist of a romantic drama ended up the best character in the cast. Right from the beginning, he is endowed with traits that pull him close to the viewer. He’s earnest, he’s a good guy, and he’s not actually dense. He’s just about as romantically aware of his situation as the viewer is, and he displays a variety of emotional reaction that I see very little of in romance. For example, he actually pays attention to potential signs of girls liking him, and in one case of him making a [false] assumption about Hiromi’s behavior, he’s actually super happy about her liking him, and outwardly displays it before realizing that he was in over his head. He’s the one to point out that Noe seems to like him before Noe herself even realizes it, and in the case of his deciding to go out with Noe, he tried to rationalize his feelings for Noe as love when it was ambiguous whether that was really true. I don’t even think I could have handed his romantic situation any better than he did himself.
As said earlier, his whole storybook and chickens affair with Noe ended up making his coming-of-age story work well, and the later romantic struggle also portrayed his feelings on the matter well with both his confusion on the nature of his relationship with Noe, and how he resolved to give an honest answer to both Noe and Hiromi. That farewell scene between him and Noe towards the end was downright heartbreaking, and again, I feel compelled to reiterate how much his relationship with Noe became the shining point of the series. Noe highlighted Shinichiro’s insecurities, challenged them, and nurtured his growth as a character; by all means, she deserved the bloke in the eyes of the viewer, and it’s tragic that she had to be separated from Shinichiro after everything they’ve been through. All that said, however, I do think that Hiromi being the main heroine was appropriate given both the beginnings of the show supporting that view and the consistent portrayal of Shinichiro really being in love with her. It’s just that the middle-late section stumbled on giving her a satisfying position in the story.
Part of what brought on the trouble, perhaps, is the usage of Noe’s older brother. While he is a pretty good character in theory, his interaction with Hiromi didn’t really do any favors in making her look good (an understatement), and his later “oh no I’m actually a sis-con” was both far too harsh on Noe and rather uncalled for in terms of his own character. It’s not that I’m totally against the idea of giving a major character such a socially taboo trait, but when it’s done, it ought to be done with a good purpose, and I don’t think that this particular story had a good purpose for it.
Other side characters, however, were used to great effect. I like how each main character had their respective supporting character to, well, support them through their troubles, and it gives the cast a much less isolated feel as I’ve seen with certain other shows. Moreover, Shinichiro’s best friend Miyokichi and his childhood friend Aiko made for quite a pair; Aiko’s conflicting romantic feelings and Miyokichi’s own handling of the situation was a really well-written subplot, being one of the few subplots of this show that are all of clear, sympathetic, dramatically effective, and well realized.
Overall, I think True Tears is a show with great intentions, even greater characters, but a needlessly messy story in what it wanted to show. In that sense, it really is a classic Mari Okada show, and I’m glad that it’s not a 2-cour, as I already feel that the last three episodes meandered a bit, and stretching the story out would’ve made it turn out like Nagi no Asukara. I enjoyed watching this show a lot, and had it been delivered with more clarity and polish, I’m sure that it would have reached Kimi ga Nozomu Eien’s level of competency.
Unfortunately, the show does stumble a bit on its way to the good material. During the first few episodes, certain scene transitions were rather awkward in a sense that I would be taken aback by how poorly the story seemed to flow. It’s like we were reading Shinichiro’s (MC) journal ridden with discontinuous jumps; one moment we’re at some normal family scene, and the next, we’re inside his head as he thinks up the story for the picture book he was drawing. It would take me 5-10 seconds to realize what happened, something that generally should never happen when I’m watching an anime. Another problem was character dialogue; while I get that Noe is supposed to be somewhat autistic, the issue of characters spouting out weird lines and seemingly talking to themselves in a middle of conversation also applied to Shinichiro and Hiromi, making certain scenes feel rather unrealistic. Alas, I checked who the director of this show was, and lo’ and behold he’s the director of Glasslip.
That said, these are only apparent issues in the beginning, and once the show finds its footing in its character exploration and drama, the story starts to flow a lot better. Contrary to what I just implied about Director-san, a lot of what he does actually wins my confidence in his competence. For one, the atmosphere of the show is really good. It has a gentle touch to it, enhanced by the melodious background music and the general sense of sensitivity to its characters. Moreover, the show is exceptional at being subtle with its characters, choosing to convey a lot of its character emotion through expression, and a lot of its character thought through easily-overlooked action and body language. I tend to like this style of portrayal a lot, as I think characters are brought alive by the variety of expression that a visual medium can portray, and that it is in some sense more rewarding to get to know a character this way.
As for the material, well, I feel pretty ambivalent about the whole chicken motif. Initially its usage felt out-of-place, as if the story was trying too hard to make some kind of weird connection between the chickens and the main characters work, and it did hurt my immersion to a certain extent. It was frankly ridiculous at times, and something about the abstract dialogue between Shinichiro and Noe didn’t really do it for me. Of course, it came to my surprise when the show actually managed to land the point with success later on, and that this whole storybook subplot evolved into some sort special connection between Shinichiro and Noe that I could never imagine taking away. I still don’t necessarily think that it was a great idea, but for better or worse it ended up working.
Likewise, Noe herself was a weird nut that I had a lot of trouble with initially, as her constant reference to unshed tears and flying in addition to her generally weird as hell behavior made her an exceptionally opaque character to me. Funnily enough, she turns out to be one of the most strikingly candid and heart-on-sleeve characters among the cast of troubled teenagers, and her inspirational influence on the protagonist becomes a subject of great endearment and pain as the story moves to a close. Her position in the story is particularly puzzling when you take into account her endearing quirkiness and thematic relevance; in any other story she would’ve been the main heroine, yet True Tears ultimately chose Hiromi, a decision that seems to be controversial among the audience.
Hiromi’s role throughout the story is a bit of a head scratcher as for what the writer was aiming for. She was initially the classic tragic heroine stuck in a situation where she can’t pursue her true love for certain socially restrictive reasons, and her awkward relationships with both Shinichiro and his mother are portrayed with a lot of nuance. So much detail got poured into a subplot that ended up being resolved on a whim, and that conclusion was one that I could not really accept even if I can rationalize why it happened. Afterwards, Hiromi’s role became a lot more ambiguous, and she just kinda lingered around and took on an adversarial position that didn’t do her character much good. While I get what the writer was aiming for in putting Hiromi through so much emotional trouble, I don’t think it was particularly appropriate for the main heroine, especially in contrast to Noe’s role. It’s almost as if the writers were setting Hiromi up for failure against the eyes of the viewer; she became very difficult to sympathize with (albeit still understandable), and the entire portrayal of her romantic conflict towards the end felt messy. It was never bad material per se, but it just didn’t come together very well.
Shinichiro’s characterization did come together really well, however, and it’s quite rare for me to claim that the male protagonist of a romantic drama ended up the best character in the cast. Right from the beginning, he is endowed with traits that pull him close to the viewer. He’s earnest, he’s a good guy, and he’s not actually dense. He’s just about as romantically aware of his situation as the viewer is, and he displays a variety of emotional reaction that I see very little of in romance. For example, he actually pays attention to potential signs of girls liking him, and in one case of him making a [false] assumption about Hiromi’s behavior, he’s actually super happy about her liking him, and outwardly displays it before realizing that he was in over his head. He’s the one to point out that Noe seems to like him before Noe herself even realizes it, and in the case of his deciding to go out with Noe, he tried to rationalize his feelings for Noe as love when it was ambiguous whether that was really true. I don’t even think I could have handed his romantic situation any better than he did himself.
As said earlier, his whole storybook and chickens affair with Noe ended up making his coming-of-age story work well, and the later romantic struggle also portrayed his feelings on the matter well with both his confusion on the nature of his relationship with Noe, and how he resolved to give an honest answer to both Noe and Hiromi. That farewell scene between him and Noe towards the end was downright heartbreaking, and again, I feel compelled to reiterate how much his relationship with Noe became the shining point of the series. Noe highlighted Shinichiro’s insecurities, challenged them, and nurtured his growth as a character; by all means, she deserved the bloke in the eyes of the viewer, and it’s tragic that she had to be separated from Shinichiro after everything they’ve been through. All that said, however, I do think that Hiromi being the main heroine was appropriate given both the beginnings of the show supporting that view and the consistent portrayal of Shinichiro really being in love with her. It’s just that the middle-late section stumbled on giving her a satisfying position in the story.
Part of what brought on the trouble, perhaps, is the usage of Noe’s older brother. While he is a pretty good character in theory, his interaction with Hiromi didn’t really do any favors in making her look good (an understatement), and his later “oh no I’m actually a sis-con” was both far too harsh on Noe and rather uncalled for in terms of his own character. It’s not that I’m totally against the idea of giving a major character such a socially taboo trait, but when it’s done, it ought to be done with a good purpose, and I don’t think that this particular story had a good purpose for it.
Other side characters, however, were used to great effect. I like how each main character had their respective supporting character to, well, support them through their troubles, and it gives the cast a much less isolated feel as I’ve seen with certain other shows. Moreover, Shinichiro’s best friend Miyokichi and his childhood friend Aiko made for quite a pair; Aiko’s conflicting romantic feelings and Miyokichi’s own handling of the situation was a really well-written subplot, being one of the few subplots of this show that are all of clear, sympathetic, dramatically effective, and well realized.
Overall, I think True Tears is a show with great intentions, even greater characters, but a needlessly messy story in what it wanted to show. In that sense, it really is a classic Mari Okada show, and I’m glad that it’s not a 2-cour, as I already feel that the last three episodes meandered a bit, and stretching the story out would’ve made it turn out like Nagi no Asukara. I enjoyed watching this show a lot, and had it been delivered with more clarity and polish, I’m sure that it would have reached Kimi ga Nozomu Eien’s level of competency.
Posted by ZeroHumor | Apr 19, 2016 8:19 AM | 0 comments
March 25th, 2016
Boku dake ga Inai Machi ‘Erased’
Anime Relations: Boku dake ga Inai Machi
-Preface-
I’ve been anticipating this title for months now. This is the most talked-about series of the season, had an excellent premise and intro, peaked with a crazy 9.14 MAL score, and has drawn intense criticism from both critics and manga readers. Some of the complaints I’ve heard deeply worried me because it’d be the type of thing I would mind a lot, and I went into the series with very leveled expectations, having known a lot of what’s supposedly bad about the show. And what’s my verdict at the end of it all?
Well, two-fold. First, an obligatory middle finger to complaining manga readers, as they always complain about irrelevant issues and have a special hard-on for adaptation fidelity that anime-only viewers like me can’t understand at all. “Oh no they cut material from the manga! Oh no the anime focused on a different thing and has different strengths from the manga! Unacceptable!” Fuck off guys, no one cares. Second, this anime isn’t as bad as I thought! Yes, it does have plot issues and execution issues, but as a whole it tells a really enjoyable and fairly cohesive story. It also benefits a lot from a marathon, as then its atmosphere and direction style is more consistent (rather than having other shows interrupt it for comparison) and one has less time to scrutinize minor plot details and rethink what they feel. Erased doesn’t exactly hold a candle to a beast like Shouwa Genroku, but the negativity surrounding the show is overblown and largely a backlash to the show’s overwhelming popularity rather than a fair assessment.
-Evaluation-
Despite its genre being a mystery suspense thriller, I actually value the show more when it’s at its quieter moments. When kids are just being kids trying to play hero and oversimplifying the world. When the little moments of camaraderie and heartwarm shine through. When Satoru is trying to make the most out of his childhood. These moments of emphasizing character dynamics tend to be really beautiful, as the atmosphere is absolutely amazing and the directing drives in just enough impact without stepping over the line. I found myself liking quite a few members of the cast [and wishing for them to be more developed, but alas this is only a 12-episode series], and there’s a nice sense of unity and chemistry within the cast. Kenya’s admiration of Satoru’s initiative is really nice, Kayo’s reactions flesh out her character and up the stakes of conflict significantly, and Sachiko’s intimacy with Satoru as world’s best mom presents an influential adult presence that too many shows regarding teenagers seem to lack. I also really like how Satoru becomes absorbed in the reality of his new world from the eyes of a child, and how many of his thoughts reveal an underlying immaturity about him. This naivety drives his character both as the bum and failure he is in the adult world, and as the hero of the story in his child world. While it’s easy to lose sight of his character when so many of his actions are driven by the demands of the plot, I still think the base personality is pretty robust. He’s a good protagonist for the story.
Development of the trust theme is also one of the show’s better achievements. While there isn’t necessarily anything deep or thought-provoking about the idea, seeing characters place their trust on each other against dire situations once again greatly enhances intimacy within the cast, and is a much needed point to root for when you’re dealing with crafty villains in a mystery thriller. Seeing such a show prioritize such human elements makes me very happy, and the conclusion of the show shined as a result of such trust and intimacy within the cast paying out emotional dividends. You know, as opposed to impersonal shit like Kiseijuu’s environmental message.
Now when the show is embracing its thriller side, it tends to get quite inconsistent. On one hand, I think the show is really engaging when Satoru is trying to save someone, particularly when it’s Kayo. The emotional stakes are high, the suspense is strong, and the pacing is rock solid. On the other hand, when the show leans heavily towards its dramatic side, it tends to reveal a lot of ugly narrative flaw.
One such case is Kayo’s child abuse situation, and everything to do with her mother. The mother’s backstory feels like a sorry excuse for her character and should never have been added in at all, albeit Kayo’s unfazed reaction to it does confirm that the story isn’t trying to excuse her mother’s awful behavior. The directing also really likes to go overboard and give its antagonists a dehumanized portrayal, as a result making the whole situation feel like cheap drama in retrospect. This issue becomes even more painful with the real villain of the show, with his red eyes and evil grins and explaining of his brilliant plots to our beloved hero in a hopeless situation. Yuck. Cartoon villains have no business being in a show that’s otherwise fairly sensitive to its characters. The villain himself is also rather poorly written, with utterly lackluster motivations and an unconvincing conclusion to his character.
Now this also heralds in the manga readers’ points about rushed pacing and neglected material, but honestly, I don’t see how the issue would have been any better with more material. What’s fact is that the author chose a sociopath villain for his story, and given that the story’s strengths lie more in the human element rather than the mystery, that’s just not a great choice in general. But you know what, I can accept that the villain is just a device to move the story along, as the rest of the story and all the suspense that follows along is worth having a throwaway character here or there. And if I were to view the villain as a throwaway character, it’s better that he has less backstory and less scenes!
Outside of plot detail which I don’t really care for, the show isn’t really missing anything else. It has all it needs to build a warm character cast and its trust theme, and its strong pacing and strong sense of engagement rewards with a highly enjoyable experience as well. Yes, time travel mechanics are wishy-washy, and the mystery aspect sucks, but who cares? I certainly don’t. I watched the show because the premise of ‘going back to childhood’ makes me desire character bonding, regret, and sense of nostalgia, not because I want a complex and robust plot. The show delivered virtually everything I wanted from it, and while I won’t go as far as calling this one anime of the season, it’s certainly a good show.
I’ve been anticipating this title for months now. This is the most talked-about series of the season, had an excellent premise and intro, peaked with a crazy 9.14 MAL score, and has drawn intense criticism from both critics and manga readers. Some of the complaints I’ve heard deeply worried me because it’d be the type of thing I would mind a lot, and I went into the series with very leveled expectations, having known a lot of what’s supposedly bad about the show. And what’s my verdict at the end of it all?
Well, two-fold. First, an obligatory middle finger to complaining manga readers, as they always complain about irrelevant issues and have a special hard-on for adaptation fidelity that anime-only viewers like me can’t understand at all. “Oh no they cut material from the manga! Oh no the anime focused on a different thing and has different strengths from the manga! Unacceptable!” Fuck off guys, no one cares. Second, this anime isn’t as bad as I thought! Yes, it does have plot issues and execution issues, but as a whole it tells a really enjoyable and fairly cohesive story. It also benefits a lot from a marathon, as then its atmosphere and direction style is more consistent (rather than having other shows interrupt it for comparison) and one has less time to scrutinize minor plot details and rethink what they feel. Erased doesn’t exactly hold a candle to a beast like Shouwa Genroku, but the negativity surrounding the show is overblown and largely a backlash to the show’s overwhelming popularity rather than a fair assessment.
-Evaluation-
Despite its genre being a mystery suspense thriller, I actually value the show more when it’s at its quieter moments. When kids are just being kids trying to play hero and oversimplifying the world. When the little moments of camaraderie and heartwarm shine through. When Satoru is trying to make the most out of his childhood. These moments of emphasizing character dynamics tend to be really beautiful, as the atmosphere is absolutely amazing and the directing drives in just enough impact without stepping over the line. I found myself liking quite a few members of the cast [and wishing for them to be more developed, but alas this is only a 12-episode series], and there’s a nice sense of unity and chemistry within the cast. Kenya’s admiration of Satoru’s initiative is really nice, Kayo’s reactions flesh out her character and up the stakes of conflict significantly, and Sachiko’s intimacy with Satoru as world’s best mom presents an influential adult presence that too many shows regarding teenagers seem to lack. I also really like how Satoru becomes absorbed in the reality of his new world from the eyes of a child, and how many of his thoughts reveal an underlying immaturity about him. This naivety drives his character both as the bum and failure he is in the adult world, and as the hero of the story in his child world. While it’s easy to lose sight of his character when so many of his actions are driven by the demands of the plot, I still think the base personality is pretty robust. He’s a good protagonist for the story.
Development of the trust theme is also one of the show’s better achievements. While there isn’t necessarily anything deep or thought-provoking about the idea, seeing characters place their trust on each other against dire situations once again greatly enhances intimacy within the cast, and is a much needed point to root for when you’re dealing with crafty villains in a mystery thriller. Seeing such a show prioritize such human elements makes me very happy, and the conclusion of the show shined as a result of such trust and intimacy within the cast paying out emotional dividends. You know, as opposed to impersonal shit like Kiseijuu’s environmental message.
Now when the show is embracing its thriller side, it tends to get quite inconsistent. On one hand, I think the show is really engaging when Satoru is trying to save someone, particularly when it’s Kayo. The emotional stakes are high, the suspense is strong, and the pacing is rock solid. On the other hand, when the show leans heavily towards its dramatic side, it tends to reveal a lot of ugly narrative flaw.
One such case is Kayo’s child abuse situation, and everything to do with her mother. The mother’s backstory feels like a sorry excuse for her character and should never have been added in at all, albeit Kayo’s unfazed reaction to it does confirm that the story isn’t trying to excuse her mother’s awful behavior. The directing also really likes to go overboard and give its antagonists a dehumanized portrayal, as a result making the whole situation feel like cheap drama in retrospect. This issue becomes even more painful with the real villain of the show, with his red eyes and evil grins and explaining of his brilliant plots to our beloved hero in a hopeless situation. Yuck. Cartoon villains have no business being in a show that’s otherwise fairly sensitive to its characters. The villain himself is also rather poorly written, with utterly lackluster motivations and an unconvincing conclusion to his character.
Now this also heralds in the manga readers’ points about rushed pacing and neglected material, but honestly, I don’t see how the issue would have been any better with more material. What’s fact is that the author chose a sociopath villain for his story, and given that the story’s strengths lie more in the human element rather than the mystery, that’s just not a great choice in general. But you know what, I can accept that the villain is just a device to move the story along, as the rest of the story and all the suspense that follows along is worth having a throwaway character here or there. And if I were to view the villain as a throwaway character, it’s better that he has less backstory and less scenes!
Outside of plot detail which I don’t really care for, the show isn’t really missing anything else. It has all it needs to build a warm character cast and its trust theme, and its strong pacing and strong sense of engagement rewards with a highly enjoyable experience as well. Yes, time travel mechanics are wishy-washy, and the mystery aspect sucks, but who cares? I certainly don’t. I watched the show because the premise of ‘going back to childhood’ makes me desire character bonding, regret, and sense of nostalgia, not because I want a complex and robust plot. The show delivered virtually everything I wanted from it, and while I won’t go as far as calling this one anime of the season, it’s certainly a good show.
Posted by ZeroHumor | Mar 25, 2016 8:19 PM | 0 comments
March 23rd, 2016
Orange Marmalade
Anime Relations: Pokemon
*Spoiler City WARNING*
Intimidated by the idea of a shoujo romance vampire story? Too afraid to read about a bunch of attractive vampire guy characters clearly targeting the female fan base? Think again, as the female protagonist is the vampire this time, and even more shockingly, this story is more about racial discrimination and overcoming it with people you love rather than some oh-so-lustful idea of a blood-sucking relationship.
This story starts off on a great note, with Ma Ri having just the right kind of icy-cold outward disposition, moments of cute comedic behavior, and underlying insecurities about herself to make for a likable protagonist. The rest of the main cast is just as charming, with the main guy Jae Min being quite the proactive dude and Soo Ri being a nice, cheerful friend whom you want to uplift Ma Ri out of her racial insecurity. The pacing of the story is great, the romantic comedy remains relevant to the character conflicts, and the webtoon is just one hell of an easy read.
Unfortunately, it seems to be a common trend that the shoujo romances I read really like to stretch their romantic conflict out and stagnate for a bulk of their story. That’s not to say that Orange Marmalade ever had long periods of nothingness, but it certainly feels like the entire push-and-pull drama between Ma Ri and Jae Min was overplayed too much for comfort. Yes, there is justification for why it happens, but the constant cycle of comedic framing and tedious drama gets tiring after a while. After the second time, it achieves neither stronger understanding with the characters, nor a development in the themes, and if anything, just makes the characters more frustrating than they should be. This applies not only to Ma Ri’s non-action, but to Jae Min’s resulting misunderstandings and downer periods. I personally would’ve liked to see the story trimmed by 30-40 chapters in the middle; I felt like the point was made clear long before the start of the final conflict.
In addition, some of the dramatic points of the story felt a bit contrived or extraneous, highlighting both a lack of creativity on the author’s part and a detraction from the integrity of the story. The biggest issue I had was probably earlier on in the story, when Soo Ri just learned that Ma Ri was a vampire, and had doubts about their relationship until Ma Ri conveniently saved Soo Ri’s life. That, to me, is lazy writing. The author very deliberately set up the scenario, as if she couldn’t trust Soo Ri’s character to gain confidence in Ma Ri through the merits of friendship alone, as if friendship cannot build genuine trust to transcend the racial barrier, that it’d take something so extreme as a life-saving and self-sacrifice to build trust. Why detract from your own theme and write in such a clichéd scene instead? I for one trusted that Soo Ri would stick around even if Ma Ri didn't save her life, and that Soo Ri's public dislike for vampires was more so her just parroting what society expects, and making a bit of a show of it because she's a loud personality. I understand that this scenario makes it easier to transition Soo Ri’s disposition, but it’s really lazy and bad.
Blondy was also a rather poorly used character. Yes, I’m ZeroHumor, so I dislike seeing running gag machines like Blondy, but my main issue is that the author had the nerve to use Blondy as a device to push forward the main conflict of the story. Come on, if you’re going to treat a character as a complete joke, don’t use them as an antagonist for a crucial plot point; it’s silly and it’s bad. Perhaps I wouldn’t complain so much if that wasn’t for the fact that that particular conflict ended as a joke as well, with a dumb scenario like white-haired Douche ending Blondy’s blackmail with his own life threats. Yikes. Very lazy and poor writing.
On a rather personal note, I’m also a bit ticked by the author choosing to stage Jae Min and Soo Ri’s big relationship moments (with the beautifully drawn climactic kissing scenes) at a time when their relationship was built on such fragile foundations and flagrant lies. There’s nothing critically wrong with the moments per se; it’s just very emotionally dissonant with my own perception of the situation, much like White Album 2’s episode 12 Haruki and Kazusa kissing scene, one of blatant disregard for rationality and future consequences. Again, this is not a piece of criticism, but just a personal gripe.
After a rather long stretch of being somewhat dissatisfied with the story (perhaps from chapters 30-something to 90-something [out of 119 total chapters], to give some rough numbers), the final arc was determined to win back my confidence, and for the most part, it did. But before I get into the good stuff, there are two points of disappointment that I’d like to share. First is Glasses-chan. I feel it a rather big missed opportunity that her character development never came to fruition. She’s quite possibly the only ‘normal’ and ‘average’ major member of the cast. She lived in the shadow of Soo Ri’s strong personality for the entirety of the story, and even very early on, she voiced her insecurities of being “boring” and “unattractive” to the point where she had no confidence in gaining Ma Ri’s attention and friendship on her own. This is the perfect setup for a character to grow into her own and become one of Ma Ri’s closest confidants, made especially to shine when Soo Ri became absent during the huge drama of the final conflict. Instead, what? Glasses-chan never developed, never shined within the group, never became Ma Ri’s close friend, never was able to do anything on her own, contributed to Ma Ri’s depression in the final conflict with her own weakness, and was an absolute waste of space and time in this story. Seriously, what was the point of her character? She might as well have been one of the faceless and nameless pieces of shit in the classroom, and the story wouldn’t have been any different.
Second is Douche’s human stalker, Chaerin. Again, this one was made for a particularly interesting scenario, one to complement Ma Ri and Jae Min’s shaky relationship with her own dysfunctional one. This was great and all, until Douche dumped her for the millionth time, and the author found it a good opportunity for Chaerin to dump all her jealousy and resentment (which originated from her own dysfunctional attraction to a douchebag, i.e. she had it coming) on Ma Ri, contributing to Ma Ri’s decision to suicide before Douche decided to solve the issue out of his own consideration for Ma Ri by taking Chaerin away from the story in that vague ending? What exactly was that whole debacle trying to show? That “treat a lady badly, and she’ll shit all over your love?” What exactly are we supposed to get from Chaerin’s character? That “bad life decisions make you a bitch, so don’t make bad life decisions?” What was the point of all that ugly drama? Just to hammer in the betrayal and impact? Yikes.
Now onto the positives. Remember Douche? Well Douche is a good and well-realized character. He provides an important foil to Ma Ri as a vampire who is proud of his roots, and while his anti-human sentiment can get a bit overwhelming at times (and he’s a general douchebag), his cynicism is well-grounded, rationally portrayed, and provides a delicate balance to Ma Ri’s development in giving her the vampiric self-confidence without the cynicism. In one of the more capturing scenes of the story, he shows up right when Ma Ri most needed him, teaching her to love herself, to take pride in her being a vampire, to not solely rely on the confidence of others. This is a sensitive point, because relying solely on others is unhealthy in having no grounding in the individual, while not relying on others can make one a cynical antisocial prick like Douche. I’m just a bit sad that Douche didn’t get the credit he deserved in that regard, that his pride in vampirism may have been written off as a ‘wrong viewpoint’ because of its antithesis to the assimilation theme, but I believe that his point should be noted, and should be kept in heart to a certain degree. His influence on Ma Ri rubbed off just enough to matter, and perhaps as a last hurrah, we see a final panel of Ma Ri smiling with her growing vampire teeth.
Needless to say, the story’s centerpiece theme of racial tension and acceptance is really well-developed. It permeates in Ma Ri and Jae Min’s personal conflicts, in the conflicts within the band group and the friendships, in the classroom setting, and it shined the strongest in the final conflict, where hysteria about a vampire killing a human sought to oust the entire vampire community from the country (sounds vaguely familiar to a current world conflict we’re having…) Speaking of which, the final conflict has quite the juicy drama, blazing through with important stakes, high emotions, and a variety of characters showing their growth in maturity and bonds when things mattered most. It was Jae Min’s finest hour after his character took a temporary dump, and Ma Ri truly showed her development over the course of the series…wait. Not really. This is actually where I have to disagree with the direction that the author decided to take the conflict: unfortunately, Ma Ri never really showed the fruits of her development through all her struggle in these past hundred chapters. I think the author took it too far in making the situation as brutal for Ma Ri as possible (taking Soo Ri out of the situation, making Glasses-chan abandon her friend, making Chaerin shit all over Ma Ri), and essentially cornering the situation so that the only way Ma Ri could get over the conflict was through her dependence of others, except her trust was betrayed, and she decided instead to kill herself. Yes, this is all very emotional, very reasonable, and very juicy drama, but it was not framed in a way that could actually develop the characters and the themes better, and personally, I just don’t agree with that tradeoff, given that this was the final conflict. Sure, Ma Ri eventually came to her senses after her boyfriend saved her, and then the last stretch involving Ma Ri bravely stepping onto the stage was good and showed her renewed resolve, but I really do feel like the real climactic scene of the arc should have been her resolve rather than her despair (let’s be real, the suicide scene was the climax of the arc). I wish Douche rubbed off on her a little more, and I wish that she was made more independently strong by the end of the series, as I think that it better suits the central theme in making her come to her own character. Again, I’m not saying that dependence on friends is bad per se (and perhaps it would’ve worked out after all if Glasses-chan wasn’t such a throwaway), but Ma Ri still seemed a bit too dependent, and her being pushed to suicide shows to me that the central theme didn’t land a sticking point, that she didn’t grow enough, that her dependence failed her when it mattered most. Perhaps this is just a matter of difference in values between me and the author, but hey, a man can dream his ideal, right?
I might sound really nitpicky throughout this reaction, and it’s because I care about the story and its characters enough to dive into the shortcomings as such. This is not a case where the flaws of the story are separate from the important themes and ideas (e.g. Koe no Katachi); rather, many of the issues I discuss here have direct relevance to the overall character and thematic developments. I see a story with charming characters, a story of love, of growth, of compassion, and of strength (both personal and borrowed from those you love) to overcome the challenges of society and life, but I don’t think Orange Marmalade made its points as well as it should have. It’s still a good story, but for how much I value such central ideas, it could’ve impressed more. It should’ve done better.
Intimidated by the idea of a shoujo romance vampire story? Too afraid to read about a bunch of attractive vampire guy characters clearly targeting the female fan base? Think again, as the female protagonist is the vampire this time, and even more shockingly, this story is more about racial discrimination and overcoming it with people you love rather than some oh-so-lustful idea of a blood-sucking relationship.
This story starts off on a great note, with Ma Ri having just the right kind of icy-cold outward disposition, moments of cute comedic behavior, and underlying insecurities about herself to make for a likable protagonist. The rest of the main cast is just as charming, with the main guy Jae Min being quite the proactive dude and Soo Ri being a nice, cheerful friend whom you want to uplift Ma Ri out of her racial insecurity. The pacing of the story is great, the romantic comedy remains relevant to the character conflicts, and the webtoon is just one hell of an easy read.
Unfortunately, it seems to be a common trend that the shoujo romances I read really like to stretch their romantic conflict out and stagnate for a bulk of their story. That’s not to say that Orange Marmalade ever had long periods of nothingness, but it certainly feels like the entire push-and-pull drama between Ma Ri and Jae Min was overplayed too much for comfort. Yes, there is justification for why it happens, but the constant cycle of comedic framing and tedious drama gets tiring after a while. After the second time, it achieves neither stronger understanding with the characters, nor a development in the themes, and if anything, just makes the characters more frustrating than they should be. This applies not only to Ma Ri’s non-action, but to Jae Min’s resulting misunderstandings and downer periods. I personally would’ve liked to see the story trimmed by 30-40 chapters in the middle; I felt like the point was made clear long before the start of the final conflict.
In addition, some of the dramatic points of the story felt a bit contrived or extraneous, highlighting both a lack of creativity on the author’s part and a detraction from the integrity of the story. The biggest issue I had was probably earlier on in the story, when Soo Ri just learned that Ma Ri was a vampire, and had doubts about their relationship until Ma Ri conveniently saved Soo Ri’s life. That, to me, is lazy writing. The author very deliberately set up the scenario, as if she couldn’t trust Soo Ri’s character to gain confidence in Ma Ri through the merits of friendship alone, as if friendship cannot build genuine trust to transcend the racial barrier, that it’d take something so extreme as a life-saving and self-sacrifice to build trust. Why detract from your own theme and write in such a clichéd scene instead? I for one trusted that Soo Ri would stick around even if Ma Ri didn't save her life, and that Soo Ri's public dislike for vampires was more so her just parroting what society expects, and making a bit of a show of it because she's a loud personality. I understand that this scenario makes it easier to transition Soo Ri’s disposition, but it’s really lazy and bad.
Blondy was also a rather poorly used character. Yes, I’m ZeroHumor, so I dislike seeing running gag machines like Blondy, but my main issue is that the author had the nerve to use Blondy as a device to push forward the main conflict of the story. Come on, if you’re going to treat a character as a complete joke, don’t use them as an antagonist for a crucial plot point; it’s silly and it’s bad. Perhaps I wouldn’t complain so much if that wasn’t for the fact that that particular conflict ended as a joke as well, with a dumb scenario like white-haired Douche ending Blondy’s blackmail with his own life threats. Yikes. Very lazy and poor writing.
On a rather personal note, I’m also a bit ticked by the author choosing to stage Jae Min and Soo Ri’s big relationship moments (with the beautifully drawn climactic kissing scenes) at a time when their relationship was built on such fragile foundations and flagrant lies. There’s nothing critically wrong with the moments per se; it’s just very emotionally dissonant with my own perception of the situation, much like White Album 2’s episode 12 Haruki and Kazusa kissing scene, one of blatant disregard for rationality and future consequences. Again, this is not a piece of criticism, but just a personal gripe.
After a rather long stretch of being somewhat dissatisfied with the story (perhaps from chapters 30-something to 90-something [out of 119 total chapters], to give some rough numbers), the final arc was determined to win back my confidence, and for the most part, it did. But before I get into the good stuff, there are two points of disappointment that I’d like to share. First is Glasses-chan. I feel it a rather big missed opportunity that her character development never came to fruition. She’s quite possibly the only ‘normal’ and ‘average’ major member of the cast. She lived in the shadow of Soo Ri’s strong personality for the entirety of the story, and even very early on, she voiced her insecurities of being “boring” and “unattractive” to the point where she had no confidence in gaining Ma Ri’s attention and friendship on her own. This is the perfect setup for a character to grow into her own and become one of Ma Ri’s closest confidants, made especially to shine when Soo Ri became absent during the huge drama of the final conflict. Instead, what? Glasses-chan never developed, never shined within the group, never became Ma Ri’s close friend, never was able to do anything on her own, contributed to Ma Ri’s depression in the final conflict with her own weakness, and was an absolute waste of space and time in this story. Seriously, what was the point of her character? She might as well have been one of the faceless and nameless pieces of shit in the classroom, and the story wouldn’t have been any different.
Second is Douche’s human stalker, Chaerin. Again, this one was made for a particularly interesting scenario, one to complement Ma Ri and Jae Min’s shaky relationship with her own dysfunctional one. This was great and all, until Douche dumped her for the millionth time, and the author found it a good opportunity for Chaerin to dump all her jealousy and resentment (which originated from her own dysfunctional attraction to a douchebag, i.e. she had it coming) on Ma Ri, contributing to Ma Ri’s decision to suicide before Douche decided to solve the issue out of his own consideration for Ma Ri by taking Chaerin away from the story in that vague ending? What exactly was that whole debacle trying to show? That “treat a lady badly, and she’ll shit all over your love?” What exactly are we supposed to get from Chaerin’s character? That “bad life decisions make you a bitch, so don’t make bad life decisions?” What was the point of all that ugly drama? Just to hammer in the betrayal and impact? Yikes.
Now onto the positives. Remember Douche? Well Douche is a good and well-realized character. He provides an important foil to Ma Ri as a vampire who is proud of his roots, and while his anti-human sentiment can get a bit overwhelming at times (and he’s a general douchebag), his cynicism is well-grounded, rationally portrayed, and provides a delicate balance to Ma Ri’s development in giving her the vampiric self-confidence without the cynicism. In one of the more capturing scenes of the story, he shows up right when Ma Ri most needed him, teaching her to love herself, to take pride in her being a vampire, to not solely rely on the confidence of others. This is a sensitive point, because relying solely on others is unhealthy in having no grounding in the individual, while not relying on others can make one a cynical antisocial prick like Douche. I’m just a bit sad that Douche didn’t get the credit he deserved in that regard, that his pride in vampirism may have been written off as a ‘wrong viewpoint’ because of its antithesis to the assimilation theme, but I believe that his point should be noted, and should be kept in heart to a certain degree. His influence on Ma Ri rubbed off just enough to matter, and perhaps as a last hurrah, we see a final panel of Ma Ri smiling with her growing vampire teeth.
Needless to say, the story’s centerpiece theme of racial tension and acceptance is really well-developed. It permeates in Ma Ri and Jae Min’s personal conflicts, in the conflicts within the band group and the friendships, in the classroom setting, and it shined the strongest in the final conflict, where hysteria about a vampire killing a human sought to oust the entire vampire community from the country (sounds vaguely familiar to a current world conflict we’re having…) Speaking of which, the final conflict has quite the juicy drama, blazing through with important stakes, high emotions, and a variety of characters showing their growth in maturity and bonds when things mattered most. It was Jae Min’s finest hour after his character took a temporary dump, and Ma Ri truly showed her development over the course of the series…wait. Not really. This is actually where I have to disagree with the direction that the author decided to take the conflict: unfortunately, Ma Ri never really showed the fruits of her development through all her struggle in these past hundred chapters. I think the author took it too far in making the situation as brutal for Ma Ri as possible (taking Soo Ri out of the situation, making Glasses-chan abandon her friend, making Chaerin shit all over Ma Ri), and essentially cornering the situation so that the only way Ma Ri could get over the conflict was through her dependence of others, except her trust was betrayed, and she decided instead to kill herself. Yes, this is all very emotional, very reasonable, and very juicy drama, but it was not framed in a way that could actually develop the characters and the themes better, and personally, I just don’t agree with that tradeoff, given that this was the final conflict. Sure, Ma Ri eventually came to her senses after her boyfriend saved her, and then the last stretch involving Ma Ri bravely stepping onto the stage was good and showed her renewed resolve, but I really do feel like the real climactic scene of the arc should have been her resolve rather than her despair (let’s be real, the suicide scene was the climax of the arc). I wish Douche rubbed off on her a little more, and I wish that she was made more independently strong by the end of the series, as I think that it better suits the central theme in making her come to her own character. Again, I’m not saying that dependence on friends is bad per se (and perhaps it would’ve worked out after all if Glasses-chan wasn’t such a throwaway), but Ma Ri still seemed a bit too dependent, and her being pushed to suicide shows to me that the central theme didn’t land a sticking point, that she didn’t grow enough, that her dependence failed her when it mattered most. Perhaps this is just a matter of difference in values between me and the author, but hey, a man can dream his ideal, right?
I might sound really nitpicky throughout this reaction, and it’s because I care about the story and its characters enough to dive into the shortcomings as such. This is not a case where the flaws of the story are separate from the important themes and ideas (e.g. Koe no Katachi); rather, many of the issues I discuss here have direct relevance to the overall character and thematic developments. I see a story with charming characters, a story of love, of growth, of compassion, and of strength (both personal and borrowed from those you love) to overcome the challenges of society and life, but I don’t think Orange Marmalade made its points as well as it should have. It’s still a good story, but for how much I value such central ideas, it could’ve impressed more. It should’ve done better.
Posted by ZeroHumor | Mar 23, 2016 11:16 AM | 0 comments
February 29th, 2016
Subarashiki Hibi
Anime Relations: Naruto
Subarashiki Hibi ~Furenzoku Sonzai~
-Preface-
Subarashiki Hibi is a work that has been available to me for a long time now; it’s been well-known as a supposed “kamige” (godlike game), and pretty much everyone who has read it regards it as one of their favorite works of all time. I’m usually one to give in to that level of hype; after all, I was even able to push through some shit like Muv-Luv Extra just out of anticipation for the acclaimed Alternative. Yet why did it take me over a year to even consider picking up Subarashiki Hibi?
Well, just look at its screenshots on vndb. We got some super generic high school slice-of-life scenes, a teddy bear with a train, a girl flying out of an amazon.jp box with cows in space, some ridiculous depiction of Jesus Christ high on the good stuff, etc. What the hell is this story even about!? The synopsis is incredibly vague, the characters look dumb, and the whole package just strikes as some kind of clusterfuck that I’ll never be able to understand. Subahibi’s reputation as some kind of “philosophical masterpiece” makes it sound even more unapproachably esoteric, and none of the reviews I’ve read regarding SubaHibi really ground it in any sense. Basically it seemed as though Subahibi was beyond me.
Yet as I’m writing this reaction now, it’s fairly evident that something ended up convincing me to give Subahibi a try. Perhaps the prelude to my interest was my first exposure to SCA-Ji’s writing, Yomi’s route in Himanatsu. There, the story was marked by a rather incredulous sequence of lows and highs, with the earlier sections boring the hell out of me because of all the damn references to Japanese folklore (?) that I didn’t give a damn about, followed by the most beautifully magical emotional high I’ve ever had in the VN medium. This impression of inconsistency would become one of my biggest issues with Subahibi, but regardless, SCA-Ji’s apparent talents also gave me the confidence I needed to seriously consider Subahibi as a potential read. [The ultimate trigger came down to some guy I know starting the VN without me, but discussing that is beyond the scope of this entry.]
As for Subahibi itself, well, it’s an incredible work. It’s a work with several layers to it, some which require a deeper intuition of the underlying philosophy behind the work, some which require the background of its predecessor work, Tsui no Sora. I will not be discussing these outer layers of significance, as they are beyond my ability and knowledge to analyze with confidence. But the base layer is something that pretty much everyone can get, and probably the reason why the work can be appreciated by those who are not philosophy majors or diehard SCA-Ji fans. This base layer, the experience at face value, is what I’ll be discussing in length.
-Structure-
Chapter 0? - Down the Rabbit Hole I (Prologue) – Protagonist: Minakami Yuki
Chapter 1 - Down the Rabbit Hole II (Core Story) – Protagonist: Minakami Yuki
Chapter 2 - It’s My Own Invention (Core Story) – Protagonist: Mamiya Takuji
Chapter 3 - Looking Glass Insects (Core Story) – Protagonist: Takashima Zakuro
Chapter 4 - Jabberwocky I (Core Story) – Protagonist: Yuuki Tomosane
Chapter 5 - Which Dreamed It (Core Story) – Protagonist: Mamiya Hasaki
Chapter 6 - Jabberwocky II (Epilogue) – Protagonist: Yuuki Tomosane
The core story takes place between July 2nd and July 19th, with each chapter focusing on a particular character’s perspective on the events that unfold. The overall playing order across chapters is forced, reality is consistent across chapters (with the exception of Chapter 0), and the only deviations from the core storyline occur in the form of side routes within the chapters themselves.
-Evaluation-
It’s rather hard to believe, but repetition is the least of Subahibi’s problems. Even as you spend an upwards of 30 hours reading 5 different perspectives of the same 18-day time frame, the story manages to make every chapter feel highly distinct, refreshing, and intense. How does this work? For one, while each character’s fate is intertwined with the actions of the other protagonists, their thought processes are largely independent of one another. Evidently, this is not a story where the characters particularly excel at confiding with others. For two, the nature of the story differs drastically based on the role each character plays within the grand scheme. Subahibi can alternate between being a mystery thriller, a heroic struggle against fate, a grueling tragedy, and a psychological mindfuck with relative ease, each of which contribute their own distinct narrative strengths and emotional impact. And while Subahibi’s experience can be so diverse, it also excels at virtually everything it tries to be, pushing the boundaries of each story format while still maintaining a respectable internal consistency. It’s incredible.
What really keeps this story’s momentum rolling, despite the repeated time resets, is a drive to find out the ‘reality’ of the situation. Initially it’s a simple desire to solve inconsistencies. Much of the earlier chapters is shrouded in mystery, as you -the reader- start to feel something ‘off’ about the situation, and realize that maybe you shouldn’t wholeheartedly trust whatever the hell the protagonist is showing you. This is the experimental phase, where you’re shown interesting things, given cool toys to play with, and get wrapped up in the extremities of the work. Where you don’t really care for the characters yet. Perhaps this is what most newcomers would envision as the bulk of the work; I certainly did. But at a certain point, SCA-Ji stops trying to mislead or bait a reaction out of the reader. At a certain point, the work becomes less about novelties, and more about investing in the conflict, the characters, and the overall weight of the situation. At a certain point, I started desiring an answer not because of confusion, but because I wanted to get to know the characters better.
How the plot ties to the characters grows in scope as the story progresses. At first it’s about understanding a specific mindset, and perhaps the limits of the human mind. In particular, Takuji’s rise to a cult leader in Invention has to be one of the craziest and most creative sequences I’ve ever seen, with some bizarre combination of dementia, love, hatred, sex, and violence puking rainbows and shitting bricks all over the place. It’s crazy, it’s a mess, and LSD is one hell of a drug. Similarly, extreme psychological manipulation and stress make a powerful impact in the earlier chapters. But all the fireworks simply veil what eventually develops to be the undisputed central theme of the work: happiness. Subarashiki Hibi is really about exploring the boundaries and conditions of happiness, and what is supposedly the lofty philosophy behind the work is really just the question of what ‘matters’ most to an individual. This is something that every one of us is well acquainted with, and the way everything ties together is…just a little mind-blowing in retrospect.
One issue I thought I would have about Subahibi is SCA-Ji’s insistence of cramming his writing with literary references. For the most part, however, the references integrate well with the story; they rarely interrupt the flow of the narrative, they are usually properly explained (and if not, you don’t need to worry about it), and they tend to connect to whatever is happening in the story in a rather significant way, giving additional context and lending an interesting mood to the work. Especially anything to do with Wittgenstein. The conciseness and self-evident-truth nature of his quotes are really interesting, and understanding his philosophy (or more precisely, SCA-Ji’s interpretation of it) takes you most of the way to understanding the whole of Subahibi in all its glory.
Unfortunately, there’s still too much about SCA-Ji’s writing that I find myself disappointed with, especially given his strengths in excellent execution and thought-provoking main ideas. For one, an overwhelming portion of the slice-of-life in this work is… decent at best, and oftentimes mediocre. It’s the run-in-the-mill filler material typical of the VN medium that really dulls the momentum of the work unnecessarily, contributing neither additional characterization, nor interesting interaction, nor a closer intimacy with the characters. This is particularly damaging to how well I view the characters, as many of Subahibi’s characters feel rather distant and flat to me because of a lack of productive SOL. Contrast this with Maruto’s writing, where the slice-of-life and character interactions are such key strengths of his works that not only would I view the characters as lifelike, but I would also care for them as if they were someone really important to me. That intimate engagement is something that I wish was delivered with more success in Subahibi.
The other major issue is bloat, or how several of Subahibi’s highlight scenes tend to be dragged out for way too long. It’s like the scene has made its point within its first two minutes, now can we move on? No, we can’t, there’s at least 10 more minutes of the work hammering in the same goddamn point long past its expiration date. I get it! We get it! Can we just move on!? No. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the number of times I considered committing the ultimate taboo of pressing the Ctrl button was certainly not in the single digits (luckily for me, rationality won out and I instead settled on scrolling.) However, as with nearly every single VN I’ve read, the H-scenes are most certainly Ctrl worthy. They’re completely useless, morally bankrupt, and appeal to the absolute worst fetishes if there’s a genuine demand for shit like this in the VN industry. *Insert rant about how VNs are disgusting because the fan base is disgusting. Definitely not ironic.*
Now with the worst sides of Subahibi exposed, let’s return to the positives. One strength I definitely didn’t expect is the CGs in the work. After all, the CGs displayed on vndb hardly give a positive impression, and yet I would claim that the expert usage, abundance, and striking designs of certain CGs impacted the dramatic delivery of the work more so than any VN I’ve ever read. The visual work of Subahibi is stunning, and the excellent applications of two evocative music tracks brought to life many of Subahibi’s highlight scenes. Once again, I have to reiterate just how instrumental the strong execution is to the reception of this work.
Perhaps the biggest question I’m faced with is how I would weigh the pros and cons of Subahibi against each other. Neither side blunts the significance of the other, and unfortunately, I do think the cons did enough damage to permanently hinder my overall impression of the work. While I was constantly intrigued by the story, I was not consistently enjoying it, and while I was eventually captured by the poignancy of a certain protagonist’s struggle, I never really bought the ‘bonds’ between the characters, nor particularly cared for any of the other protagonists. It was even unclear to me whether to view the work in a positive or negative light until a read of mdz’s thematic analysis blew my mind and put to rest many of my earlier concerns.
So what is Subahibi to me? Subahibi is one of the most unique works of fiction I’ve ever experienced, but it’s a work where the appeal lies in the reflection rather than the reading experience. It’s a work that impresses me not with the particular plot or characters it used, but with the argument it made addressing its main theme. It’s not a work that builds on technical prowess and face-value content, but by all means can blossom in someone’s mind as a personal masterpiece. Can Subahibi become one of my most valued all-time works of fiction? Only time will tell.
-Preface-
Subarashiki Hibi is a work that has been available to me for a long time now; it’s been well-known as a supposed “kamige” (godlike game), and pretty much everyone who has read it regards it as one of their favorite works of all time. I’m usually one to give in to that level of hype; after all, I was even able to push through some shit like Muv-Luv Extra just out of anticipation for the acclaimed Alternative. Yet why did it take me over a year to even consider picking up Subarashiki Hibi?
Well, just look at its screenshots on vndb. We got some super generic high school slice-of-life scenes, a teddy bear with a train, a girl flying out of an amazon.jp box with cows in space, some ridiculous depiction of Jesus Christ high on the good stuff, etc. What the hell is this story even about!? The synopsis is incredibly vague, the characters look dumb, and the whole package just strikes as some kind of clusterfuck that I’ll never be able to understand. Subahibi’s reputation as some kind of “philosophical masterpiece” makes it sound even more unapproachably esoteric, and none of the reviews I’ve read regarding SubaHibi really ground it in any sense. Basically it seemed as though Subahibi was beyond me.
Yet as I’m writing this reaction now, it’s fairly evident that something ended up convincing me to give Subahibi a try. Perhaps the prelude to my interest was my first exposure to SCA-Ji’s writing, Yomi’s route in Himanatsu. There, the story was marked by a rather incredulous sequence of lows and highs, with the earlier sections boring the hell out of me because of all the damn references to Japanese folklore (?) that I didn’t give a damn about, followed by the most beautifully magical emotional high I’ve ever had in the VN medium. This impression of inconsistency would become one of my biggest issues with Subahibi, but regardless, SCA-Ji’s apparent talents also gave me the confidence I needed to seriously consider Subahibi as a potential read. [The ultimate trigger came down to some guy I know starting the VN without me, but discussing that is beyond the scope of this entry.]
As for Subahibi itself, well, it’s an incredible work. It’s a work with several layers to it, some which require a deeper intuition of the underlying philosophy behind the work, some which require the background of its predecessor work, Tsui no Sora. I will not be discussing these outer layers of significance, as they are beyond my ability and knowledge to analyze with confidence. But the base layer is something that pretty much everyone can get, and probably the reason why the work can be appreciated by those who are not philosophy majors or diehard SCA-Ji fans. This base layer, the experience at face value, is what I’ll be discussing in length.
-Structure-
Chapter 0? - Down the Rabbit Hole I (Prologue) – Protagonist: Minakami Yuki
Chapter 1 - Down the Rabbit Hole II (Core Story) – Protagonist: Minakami Yuki
Chapter 2 - It’s My Own Invention (Core Story) – Protagonist: Mamiya Takuji
Chapter 3 - Looking Glass Insects (Core Story) – Protagonist: Takashima Zakuro
Chapter 4 - Jabberwocky I (Core Story) – Protagonist: Yuuki Tomosane
Chapter 5 - Which Dreamed It (Core Story) – Protagonist: Mamiya Hasaki
Chapter 6 - Jabberwocky II (Epilogue) – Protagonist: Yuuki Tomosane
The core story takes place between July 2nd and July 19th, with each chapter focusing on a particular character’s perspective on the events that unfold. The overall playing order across chapters is forced, reality is consistent across chapters (with the exception of Chapter 0), and the only deviations from the core storyline occur in the form of side routes within the chapters themselves.
-Evaluation-
It’s rather hard to believe, but repetition is the least of Subahibi’s problems. Even as you spend an upwards of 30 hours reading 5 different perspectives of the same 18-day time frame, the story manages to make every chapter feel highly distinct, refreshing, and intense. How does this work? For one, while each character’s fate is intertwined with the actions of the other protagonists, their thought processes are largely independent of one another. Evidently, this is not a story where the characters particularly excel at confiding with others. For two, the nature of the story differs drastically based on the role each character plays within the grand scheme. Subahibi can alternate between being a mystery thriller, a heroic struggle against fate, a grueling tragedy, and a psychological mindfuck with relative ease, each of which contribute their own distinct narrative strengths and emotional impact. And while Subahibi’s experience can be so diverse, it also excels at virtually everything it tries to be, pushing the boundaries of each story format while still maintaining a respectable internal consistency. It’s incredible.
What really keeps this story’s momentum rolling, despite the repeated time resets, is a drive to find out the ‘reality’ of the situation. Initially it’s a simple desire to solve inconsistencies. Much of the earlier chapters is shrouded in mystery, as you -the reader- start to feel something ‘off’ about the situation, and realize that maybe you shouldn’t wholeheartedly trust whatever the hell the protagonist is showing you. This is the experimental phase, where you’re shown interesting things, given cool toys to play with, and get wrapped up in the extremities of the work. Where you don’t really care for the characters yet. Perhaps this is what most newcomers would envision as the bulk of the work; I certainly did. But at a certain point, SCA-Ji stops trying to mislead or bait a reaction out of the reader. At a certain point, the work becomes less about novelties, and more about investing in the conflict, the characters, and the overall weight of the situation. At a certain point, I started desiring an answer not because of confusion, but because I wanted to get to know the characters better.
How the plot ties to the characters grows in scope as the story progresses. At first it’s about understanding a specific mindset, and perhaps the limits of the human mind. In particular, Takuji’s rise to a cult leader in Invention has to be one of the craziest and most creative sequences I’ve ever seen, with some bizarre combination of dementia, love, hatred, sex, and violence puking rainbows and shitting bricks all over the place. It’s crazy, it’s a mess, and LSD is one hell of a drug. Similarly, extreme psychological manipulation and stress make a powerful impact in the earlier chapters. But all the fireworks simply veil what eventually develops to be the undisputed central theme of the work: happiness. Subarashiki Hibi is really about exploring the boundaries and conditions of happiness, and what is supposedly the lofty philosophy behind the work is really just the question of what ‘matters’ most to an individual. This is something that every one of us is well acquainted with, and the way everything ties together is…just a little mind-blowing in retrospect.
One issue I thought I would have about Subahibi is SCA-Ji’s insistence of cramming his writing with literary references. For the most part, however, the references integrate well with the story; they rarely interrupt the flow of the narrative, they are usually properly explained (and if not, you don’t need to worry about it), and they tend to connect to whatever is happening in the story in a rather significant way, giving additional context and lending an interesting mood to the work. Especially anything to do with Wittgenstein. The conciseness and self-evident-truth nature of his quotes are really interesting, and understanding his philosophy (or more precisely, SCA-Ji’s interpretation of it) takes you most of the way to understanding the whole of Subahibi in all its glory.
Unfortunately, there’s still too much about SCA-Ji’s writing that I find myself disappointed with, especially given his strengths in excellent execution and thought-provoking main ideas. For one, an overwhelming portion of the slice-of-life in this work is… decent at best, and oftentimes mediocre. It’s the run-in-the-mill filler material typical of the VN medium that really dulls the momentum of the work unnecessarily, contributing neither additional characterization, nor interesting interaction, nor a closer intimacy with the characters. This is particularly damaging to how well I view the characters, as many of Subahibi’s characters feel rather distant and flat to me because of a lack of productive SOL. Contrast this with Maruto’s writing, where the slice-of-life and character interactions are such key strengths of his works that not only would I view the characters as lifelike, but I would also care for them as if they were someone really important to me. That intimate engagement is something that I wish was delivered with more success in Subahibi.
The other major issue is bloat, or how several of Subahibi’s highlight scenes tend to be dragged out for way too long. It’s like the scene has made its point within its first two minutes, now can we move on? No, we can’t, there’s at least 10 more minutes of the work hammering in the same goddamn point long past its expiration date. I get it! We get it! Can we just move on!? No. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the number of times I considered committing the ultimate taboo of pressing the Ctrl button was certainly not in the single digits (luckily for me, rationality won out and I instead settled on scrolling.) However, as with nearly every single VN I’ve read, the H-scenes are most certainly Ctrl worthy. They’re completely useless, morally bankrupt, and appeal to the absolute worst fetishes if there’s a genuine demand for shit like this in the VN industry. *Insert rant about how VNs are disgusting because the fan base is disgusting. Definitely not ironic.*
Now with the worst sides of Subahibi exposed, let’s return to the positives. One strength I definitely didn’t expect is the CGs in the work. After all, the CGs displayed on vndb hardly give a positive impression, and yet I would claim that the expert usage, abundance, and striking designs of certain CGs impacted the dramatic delivery of the work more so than any VN I’ve ever read. The visual work of Subahibi is stunning, and the excellent applications of two evocative music tracks brought to life many of Subahibi’s highlight scenes. Once again, I have to reiterate just how instrumental the strong execution is to the reception of this work.
Perhaps the biggest question I’m faced with is how I would weigh the pros and cons of Subahibi against each other. Neither side blunts the significance of the other, and unfortunately, I do think the cons did enough damage to permanently hinder my overall impression of the work. While I was constantly intrigued by the story, I was not consistently enjoying it, and while I was eventually captured by the poignancy of a certain protagonist’s struggle, I never really bought the ‘bonds’ between the characters, nor particularly cared for any of the other protagonists. It was even unclear to me whether to view the work in a positive or negative light until a read of mdz’s thematic analysis blew my mind and put to rest many of my earlier concerns.
So what is Subahibi to me? Subahibi is one of the most unique works of fiction I’ve ever experienced, but it’s a work where the appeal lies in the reflection rather than the reading experience. It’s a work that impresses me not with the particular plot or characters it used, but with the argument it made addressing its main theme. It’s not a work that builds on technical prowess and face-value content, but by all means can blossom in someone’s mind as a personal masterpiece. Can Subahibi become one of my most valued all-time works of fiction? Only time will tell.
Posted by ZeroHumor | Feb 29, 2016 12:32 PM | 0 comments
December 10th, 2015
Kimi ga Nozomu Eien
Anime Relations: Kimi ga Nozomu Eien
-Preface-
I used to think that I hated love triangles. After all, love triangles are the bane of every good romance, throwing the characters in emotional turmoil and inevitably calling upon the ugly feelings of jealousy and ill will. Who in their right minds would want to deliberately read about characters showing their ugly side, and the whole romance issue ending in tragedy caused by the characters themselves?
When I first watched through the White Album 2 anime, I held similar resentment towards the latter half of the show. The friendship was going so well, and I was actually liking all the characters. Haruki seemed like a responsible and proactive guy, Kazusa a cool, composed girl above it all, and Setsuna a sweetheart. That's until the show tore everything down with its melodrama, and now none of these characters fit the pure impressions I had of them. I felt betrayed. My judgmental side came out, and I started slamming Haruki for committing the social taboo of cheating on such a wonderful girlfriend, while having that clueless ass face and such irritating lack of self control and foresight. That was the only way I knew to resolve that uncomfortable fit of frustration boiling up within me.
Since then, I've gotten a whole lot more tolerant of love triangles, to the point where they compose of the best romances I've read thus far (see: Maruto VNs). Instead of being a character-ruining plot function, now it's an invaluable opportunity to stress test the concept of self vs. responsibility and all the insecurities and value judgements of the characters involved. It's an incredible way to expose multiple sides of a character, and instead of merely going off surface impressions, we get a deeper look into who the characters are as human beings.
However, there is a strong precondition to what makes a love triangle romantic drama worth watching: it has to portray the characters sympathetically despite all their struggles. They really have to be characters that we can understand at worst, and root for at best. Just as a purely positive portrayal does not make for interesting characters, a purely negative portrayal doesn't work either. School Days shapes its story to make a point about cheating rather than to give its characters a full, grey, human portrayal. It's not a good romance, it's not a good story, and it's certainly not a good love triangle. To put it in Bobduh's words, I don't appreciate stories that are 'mean-spirited' toward its characters.
With all that in mind, let's dive into one of the more polarizing love-triangle romantic dramas of anime: Kimi ga Nozomu Eien, or Rumbling Hearts.
-Evaluation-
The pacing for the introduction is rather breakneck. The story crams the premise of introducing all major characters, setting up the importance of Takayuki and Haruka's romance, and portraying Mitsuki's role and stance toward her love and her best friend all within two episodes. I have a feeling that the actual material in the source VN may have been hours long, but by some black magic, the anime succeeds in conveying all that it needed to within this short time frame. The romance feels real, Mitsuki's character insecurities and turmoils are developed well, and the car accident has its appropriate impact. I certainly would have liked the anime to appropriate more time and take things more slowly, but considering the 1-cour length and the importance of the following material, I have to give it to the production staff this time. They conveyed the atmosphere of the show perfectly; they did a good job.
Come episode 3, and our major characters are 20-21 (?) year old adults in the workforce. The cover page for KimiNozo is extremely misleading; we won't be dealing with teenage characters, nor will they retain that silly character design. Thank goodness, because a mature romantic drama with the aesthetic of Muv-Luv is bound to be somewhat jarring.
And mature it is. KimiNozo handles its subject matter with composure, portraying all the character conflicts with just the right amount of intensity and grounded realism. There's rarely any screaming matches, and when a character gets frustrated or upset, they deal with a wide variety of reactions, from passive-aggression, to the silent-treatment, to feigning ignorance, or various other forms of dodging the issue. They really do behave like real adults, not actors of a scripted drama. The existence of sex within the relationships is portrayed without any of the tedium or lewdness of visual novel H-scenes, and a variety of concerns involving work and living independently further immerse into the proceedings of young adult life.
Of course, none of this even matters if the story itself is needlessly frustrating, and KimiNozo is undoubtedly frustrating, as the characters stumble around and step on their own toes for a substantial middle portion of the series. But whether it's all worth it comes down to the matter I discussed in the preface, and in terms of portraying the characters in a way that lends to deep understanding and sympathy from the more open-minded audience, I would say that KimiNozo succeeds brilliantly.
Within the primary love triangle, due to Haruka being incapacitated and withheld information for the majority of the series, I only consider Takayuki and Mitsuki to be the two substantial protagonists. Of the two, Mitsuki easily shines as the most developed character in the cast, as she's the driving force behind the plot events for most of the series, being the only one capable of pushing forth and acting on her desires. She also endures the most: she hides her apprehensions, pushes down her evergrowing sense of guilt and self-hatred, and puts on her best attempt to smile in front of others. Hardly anyone is ever around to support her as she deals with a terribly unreliable Takayuki and deep pangs of regret for having given up on her professional swimming aspirations. Even amid abuse from Haruka's sister Akane and growing suspicions of Takayuki drifting away, she continues to put on a smile and act like she's strong. Of course that's not going to last. No one should ever put themelves through something like that.
What's really incredible is how well Mitsuki's downward spiral is portrayed. From the initial awkwardness of her conversations with Takayuki, to the uncomfortable impasse of the two fighting, to the agonizing sense of loneliness and regret, everything is meticulously built up until it becomes a foregone conclusion that she's going to break. Even more important is that while some of this unfortunate circumstance is brought on by her own mistakes, her lapses of judgement are really understandable. They are neither a product of her ill will nor a product of poor timing and/or luck; they happen as natural consequences of the situation. This also extends to the nature of drama throughout KimiNozo, and a key to why the drama is anything but cheap: none of the character conflicts happen because of ill will or poor luck. The only thing to blame most of the time is the softness of the characters' hearts, as they stress themselves out over things they shouldn't be blaming themselves for, and often lack the self-confidence and resolve to confront themselves and others honestly. Especially Takayuki. His storm of self-doubt leads him astray and makes him run away from his issues all too often, but he really isn't a bad person; he honestly wishes the best of everyone around him, but it's his very compassion and sense of responsibility that blind him from the most important issues.
Now all this time, I had expected KimiNozo to be a White Album 2 anime -esque tragedy, ending on a sad note that just begs for a sequel. And once again, my expectations are exceeded by what can only be seen as incredible character breakthroughs, as both Mitsuki and Takayuki overcome their faults and gather up the courage to right their wrongs, actually learning from their mistakes in the course of this series instead of dwelling on them for 5 whole years like a certain character I know. For all the turmoil that they had to suffer to reach this point, their conclusions are very well-earned, and there's a distinct sense of finality. It's not necessary a happy ending given the tone of the series, but they come to terms with themselves and each other, and for what it's worth, they can finally move on and look toward the future. They're no longer defined by the tragedy of the past, and they've grown as characters, as people. This is an ending that I can accept with all my heart.
I respect Kimi ga Nozomu Eien. I think the atmosphere, the pacing, and the dramatic execution are all on-point, and moreover, the characters strike as some of the best I've seen in anime. While I can't explain it very well, it's as if I was underneath their every nuance in expression, understanding it, and truly feeling it all. They are so real to me. The supporting cast is used effectively to provide support and push the main characters forward, and while I'd be lying through my teeth if I claimed that I wasn't unsettled by the events of the story, I was also moved to near tears on multiple occasions. It's been an emotional rollercoaster, and if there's anything I want to say at the end of it all, it's that Kimi ga Nozomu Eien was definitely worth it.
Story: 8 Characters: 9 Enjoyment: 6 Significance: 7
Score: 78%
-Episode Notes-
Posted by ZeroHumor | Dec 10, 2015 7:07 PM | 0 comments