Luckily, my fears have been allayed. Maison Ikkoku is a classic in every sense of the word. From the timeless animation to the tried-and-true love story that carries you, and the main characters, to the final episode. In terms of good ol’ fashioned romances, you’ll be hard-pressed to find one better. It takes its time answering the will-they-won’t-they question that gnaws at the core of every potential romantic couple. Some people may appreciate its deliberate pace, while others will impatiently skip episodes. Obviously this anime has quite a few filler episodes, which you can identity within a few minutes of watching. But skip too much, and you’ll miss out seeing the nuances of how a mature relationship blossoms.
It’s a typical boy-meets-girl story, except the boy, Godai, is a ronin (a high school graduate who failed his college entrance exams), and the girl, Kyoko, is the widowed manager of his boarding house (Maison Ikkoku). She’s only a few years older than him, but they make you believe the age gap is larger than it is. Living with them in Maison Ikkoku is Ms. Ichinose, a stout mother who can hold her liquor, Akemi, a scantily clad waitress, and Yotsuya, a straight-up creeper. Those three are easily the most annoying characters in the anime. They aren’t annoying in and of themselves; they’re just annoying whenever they interject themselves into young Godai’s affairs... which is basically EVERY episode.
You feel his frustration when they constantly find a reason to celebrate and drink in his room, despite the fact that he has exams or other obligations in the morning, or when they run up his bar tab. Godai is strapped for cash as it is, he doesn’t need freeloaders moving him from the Ikkoku house to the poor house. That being said, over the course of the anime you see how they support Godai in subtle ways. In the later episodes, Akemi actually helps Godai in such a way that it forces other characters to make some timely decisions. Akemi, Ms. Ichinose, and Yotsuya do grow on you, kind of like annoying family members. Even though they never miss a chance to take advantage of Godai, they do care for him and Kyoko.
The two main characters are well-written and constantly enamor you with their emotional and personal growth. Initially, I was giving Godai the side eye. He is affable to be sure, but he had this horny teenager aspect to him. With other female characters, he would find himself in compromising positions that often left him embarrassed more than turned on. But when it comes to Kyoko, he would find himself in the same compromising positions, but instead, you could see him debating on whether or not to take it a step further. For example, he tried to steal a kiss while Kyoko slept; only stopping when she woke up. To make matters worse, there’s an episode where Godai says, “She could cry or ream, and no one would interrupt us!” It gave me pause, and I thought to myself, “Now, don’t do anything rash, Godai!”
Thankfully, he outgrew that mentality and tries in earnest to become a respectable and responsible adult. He’s not smart, but what he lacks in smarts he makes up in with resolve. He has absolutely no luck when it comes to finding a viable career, but he swallows his pride and works odd jobs, eventually finding his calling. His resolve to find himself in the professional world despite numerous setbacks is one of his most relatable qualities.
On the other hand, Kyoko’s struggle has nothing to do with work; she’s taken over the managerial duties of the Maison Ikkoku from her grandfather. So don’t worry about Kyoko, she’s fine. Her battle is an internal one, focusing on her inability to move on from her dead husband, Soichiro, whom she named her dog after. The attraction between Godai and Kyoko is mutual, but she’s only ever truly loved one man, and that’s man death left a hole in her that early on seems impossible to fill. The feeling of loss and loneliness sometimes creeps up on Kyoko when she’s in the presence of Godai. He in turn gets discouraged, but never gives up hope of getting together with her. If anything, it’s just one of the many obstacles he has to overcome. But not only does he have to compete with a dead man, they both have to compete with other love interests.
And that’s real life in a nutshell. In Kyoko’s eyes, Godai’s inaccessible, not only because she can’t move on, but also because Godai is a high school graduate with no discernable future. Likewise for Godai, he doesn’t feel he’s in the position to have a serious relationship with Kyoko. We know, they know, and the other tenants know that they’re perfect for each other. However, until they both reach the point in their lives where they can financially and emotionally commit themselves to each other, they have to live their lives and explore other options. The good thing about this is that, despite the fact that both characters are dating different people at different points in the anime, you’re never under the impression that their pairing is anything but a done deal. It’s just a matter of when and how they humbly reject their love interests.
One criticism regarding their relationship is that it gets hindered in seemingly contrived ways. Far too many times Godai or Kyoko would begin to confess or assert their position only to be interrupted by the other or outside parties. Even back when Maison Ikkuko first aired, this trope was already showing its age. Today? It’s downright it’s cliché and frustrating. So many misunderstandings could have been resolved if one person allowed the other to finish their thought. Or if interrupted, the other character when asked, “What were you going to say” didn’t respond with, “Ah, n-nothing”. I rolled my eyes every time that happened, but to the anime’s credit, the characters do address these issues.
The character designs are attractive, and the animation aged well. The voice acting is also top-notch, especially Akemi’s voice, which is seductive and oozes with sex appeal. The multiple OPs and EDs sound good, but the first OP becomes repetitive after a while. The second OP played for one episode before getting axed (likely due to rights issues), so you’re forced to listen to the first OP longer than you should. Other than that, the anime effectively uses musical cues to emphasize certain scenes, such as when Soichiro (the dog), who was lost at the beginning of an episode, is returned to Kyoko. Coincidentally, the song that played during that scene was the quickly-retired second OP.
If you’re going to watch Maison Ikkoku, you have to be patient with it. But unlike some long anime, you are rewarded for your patience with a satisfying payoff. This is a huge recommend for anyone who loves mature, throwback romances.
