Various monologues, delusions, and fantasies are at play here as we follow Kuroki Tomoko in her quest to become popular. Having almost no social skills whatsoever, much of the action takes place within Tomoko’s own thoughts, from scheming on how to approach a situation to conjuring an ideal fantasy where all her desires are met, sometimes referencing an anime or manga she knows of. Tomoko is genuinely a fun and endearing character to follow, partly thanks to how vividly and creatively her thoughts are presented. Her point of view is depicted in a litany of wacky and comical ways, with each affair being executed in a way that wouldn’t look out of place in a battle shounen; exaggerated and dramatic. To say that WataMote plays out like a battle shounen undersells it however. Unlike many manga adaptations which tend to have uninspired camerawork and lazy implementation of dialogue, WataMote is always exercising creativity in how to present her thoughts. New visual elements are constantly brought to the table so that the experience never grows stale. Inventive visual work, snappy pacing, and Tomoko’s constant narrations work in unison to bring this character to life.
Despite depicting these situations in a goofy, comedic light, WataMote presents one of the most accurate depictions of social anxiety I’ve seen in an anime. This portrayal is not limited to simply being nervous or shy in public interactions. Tomoko’s thoughts, perspectives, and attitude all personify that of a socially awkward and anxious high schooler, serving as a basis for her actions. The way her anxiety dictates what she thinks and how she behaves is exploited both comedically and narratively, leading to events which highlight the tragedy of the situation while providing some degree of amusement. All of Tomoko’s delusions and insecurities are welded into a series of gags and humorous moments to exploit the absurdity in her ways of thinking, while eloquently demonstrating what exactly is crippling her in these situations. Feeling nothing but fear and distrust in social situations, Tomoko almost always assumes the worst in people. Internally, she’ll often scoff at or antagonize anyone who isn’t some hot guy she met at a store, and impulsively puts the blame on others for any misfortune that comes up in her day. She’ll desperately gravitate towards any method that is said to make one more popular, attractive, or whichever else, even if it involves purposely getting molested on a train. And yes, she does actually attempt this. The various incidents she pulls herself into are presented in a wacky, hyperbolic manner, to the point where Tomoko comes off as downright maniacal or demented in certain cases. This particular style does a lot to make Tomoko a very endearing character, but she’s made all the more captivating by how she fully encapsulates what social anxiety is really about. It’s a harrowing dilemma to face especially in your high school years, and it’s one that many of us can admit to have had around the same period as Tomoko has. Almost all of us who have had social anxiety can relate to many of Tomoko’s ordeals, which can possibly bring back painful memories of our own. WataMote subjects us to the bleak and dreary realm of social anxiety and the consequences of having it, amplifying the absurdity of the situations that stem from it to soften the blow. In spite of this glossy exterior, WataMote is made fully aware of the situation and gives it the integrity and nuance it deserves, just as a black comedy should.
The primary method of which WataMote delivers its humor is by stressing the dichotomy between how Tomoko perceives the world compared to how it actually is. This is the format which pervades the entire show; the reality, often lukewarm and indifferent to Tomoko, is twisted in such a way to abide with her own insecurities. Tomoko constantly deludes herself into believing that she is above everyone else, and it’s portrayed to be rather pitiful, yet still funny and amusing. Consider this scene as an example: on a rainy day, when Tomoko finds that her umbrella is missing, she instinctively assumes it to have been stolen. She then has an internal rage about how she is an innocent victim whose day was ruined by this abominable crime. Then, she stops to realize that her umbrella was just a few feet in another direction. This is a funny moment on its own, but it’s also a perfect example of how Tomoko operates outside the comfort of her own home. When something seemed to be wrong at first, she instinctively assumes it to be another’s wrongdoing, without taking even a second to consider any alternative.
Things that seem relatively mundane and trivial to us are made into a much bigger deal than they need to be. This exact way of thinking is what leads Tomoko into numerous awkward situations involving other people, which is exactly what blocks her off from others. Her rationale is purely based on knee-jerk suspicions rather than logic, some of which are understandable to at least some degree, such as worrying about what classmates will think about the sight of you eating alone. Others can be quite outrageous or downright unfathomable, such as the notion that wearing certain underwear makes you friends more easily. Both of these can be attributed to how someone with social anxiety really operates. Tomoko’s antics come in a seemingly endless variety, as new situations arise after another and more inspiration is attained. Because we are given a thorough introspective on what possesses her to take these actions, it’s made easy to gravitate towards Tomoko and understand what she does, as irrational and ludicrous as they are most of the time. The sad truth of the matter is, as over-the-top and balls-to-the-wall as it’s all portrayed to be, it’s conceptually accurate to how some of us behaved in our adolescent years. Both these factors are what effectively put us in her own shoes, making it all the more uncomfortable to watch when these actions actually follow through, there to be witnessed by outsiders. This discomfort is a large part of what makes it funny, yet oddly impactful on a personal level. I for one can admit to have operated along the same lines as Tomoko in my own school years, and I imagine plenty of others are the same way. Whether you have fully grown out of this phase or are still in the process of doing so, laughing at yourself is a good first step towards moving on with your life.
This is even the case with her own family as well as her best friend Yuu-chan. Even though they, particularly Yuu-chan, are relatively close to her, they are not exempt from witnessing the crazed antics Tomoko stirs up on a daily basis. Her brother Tomoki serves as a test subject of sorts, as Tomoko uses new bizarre methods of communicating to see how they play out. Tomoki, like everyone else, has no idea what the hell goes on in Tomoko’s mind, and thus wants nothing to do with whatever nonsense she subjects to him. Tomoko’s interactions with her mother go about as smoothly as those with anxious teens who feel as though nobody understands them would expectedly play out with their parents. Yuu-chan, being the only character besides Tomoko’s parents to give her unconditional support and attention, ends up being one of the most likeable characters on offer. Tomoko even still projects herself into Yuu-chan and holds her on the same standards. Yuu-chan’s presence, compared to how she once was, as an attractive, well-endowed specimen with many healthy relationships is an abhorrent sight to Tomoko. What Tomoko feels could be described as a feeling of betrayal, or rather severe envy. Tomoko’s twisted and misguided view on people erects yet another barrier around even her best friend. Luckily for her, most of anything Tomoko would usually do comes with almost no repercussions when around Yuu-chan. Tomoko’s company with Yuu-chan is relatively painless and refreshing compared to that of other people, as Tomoko is rarely wound into such humiliating incidents. In a way, seeing these characters together is somewhat euphoric. Nonetheless, there is still much awkwardness to be be found among their interactions, as Tomoko’s insane ideas run amok even still. Tomoko’s interactions with these characters are very distinct from one other, which makes Tomoko feel more like an actual person and makes each encounter with them very unique. As a result, WataMote is given plenty more sources of comedy at its disposal and makes Tomoko’s moments involving them varied and original.
Even with all these shenanigans at play, WataMote doesn’t shy away from providing full, unfiltered attention to Tomoko’s dilemma when it needs to. Whenever Tomoko is legitimately hurt or grief-stricken by what happens, the show seizes to pull any punches at that point. The limelight is positioned squarely on her humiliation and anguish, often laying a somber melody upon the scene; she even sheds tears at some points. These moments might as well be climaxes, as she is in a position where no ounce of delusion can divert her from the crude reality of what she’s led herself into. WataMote understands this disorder which Tomoko is bound by, and knows full well when it is no longer a laughing matter. The absence of comedy during these moments is enough to draw attention to how affected Tomoko really is; yet another factor of what makes her so easy to feel for. Of course, once these moments pass, the proper course of action is not to dwell on those past situations, but to shrug it off, move on, and hope tomorrow will be better. And this is exactly what WataMote does. The moment follows through, the whole arc fades into a somber close, and the cycle begins anew.
Although the show’s structure is based around repetition, WataMote is not exempt from providing actual character development. The actions Tomoko takes do in fact affect what she does in future events. Additionally, as the show draws into its later half, Tomoko’s denial lessens while she gradually becomes more accepting of her dilemma. Her life concurrently becomes more bleak and hopeless as a result. This is the point where her actions, while still less than ideal, become significantly more reasonable, as she makes a conscious effort towards amending her newly found flaws. This development comes across very naturally; there’s nothing drastic or sudden about this change. It comes in minimal pieces as Tomoko retains what she has experienced through her mishaps. Of course, she never truly unbounds herself from the self-destructive tendencies we see throughout. As we all know, it’s incredibly easy to fall back to old habits.
It’s easy to see that if Tomoko was a person in real life, she would not be a fun person to interact with or be around, but that doesn’t make her struggles any less real. Despite how abrasive and hostile she is portrayed to be overall, Tomoko is a character who is easy to sympathize with, because the full context of her troubles is made very clear. While not exactly universal, experiencing this kind of distress is something very many people can identify with. Because of this, we immediately understand her actions, even if we don’t find them to rational in any sense. Her life is very empty and miserable, affirmed all the more through her constant denial and acts of desperation. We want her to succeed, and thus seeing her get into humiliating situations through her own doing is genuinely an unpleasant experience. It just goes to show how coming out of your shell is never an easy task for anyone. Whatever Tomoko suffers through, we are forced to suffer through with her.
This leads into what is perhaps the most common criticism towards WataMote. For many people, WataMote is a very uncomfortable, cringe-inducing experience. I would be one of the first to agree that the show is certainly uncomfortable at many points, but I would also say that it is so for the right reasons. Some say it’s uncomfortable for the reason that Tomoko is unlikeable, which is obviously something I disagree on quite strongly. Others say it’s for the reason that they don’t want to see Tomoko go through these miserable affairs. As mentioned previously, despite how frequently and badly she fucks up, there is change in her character to be found along the way. While not always necessarily positive, it’s still change nonetheless. These small changes show that there is legitimate hope for her. For this reason, it’s made all the more cathartic and heartwarming when Tomoko really does manage to find a fair bit of comfort towards the end of the show.
Not only does she reflect nearly every facet of the usual social awkwardness that resides in many high schoolers, she’s also a funny and charming character independent of that. Her antics are unpredictable and she’s endearingly quirky through each passing episode. She is voiced extremely well in the Japanese audio as well as the English dub. Of course, a considerable factor in what makes Tomoko so appealing to many is her visual design itself. Her small stature and baggy, half-open eyes make her look rather cute with an element of mischief, which is perfect for the character. The way she constantly and drastically changes into different expressions is a huge factor in what makes this character so funny and loveable through each of her schemes and shenanigans.
Despite how commendable the design of Tomoko really is, it’s a shame that her design is the only memorable one in the entire show. Almost every other character is rendered to a bland default anime design with very little distinguishing qualities. This is excusable for background characters, but the more important characters don’t fare much better. Yuu-chan’s design has only her yellow hair and well-endowed physique to make her stand out from the rest. Even Tomoko’s own family suffers from a lack of inspiration in their design. It’s unfortunate that this is how it turned out to be, but it could also just further affirm how remarkable the design of Tomoko really is.
Apart from that, the visual department on the whole is something to be admired. The backgrounds are bold and daring, which makes the scenery very eye-catching and vibrant. The animation is very fluid, especially when it really needs to be. Never did I feel as though the animation quality was ever lacking through any of my viewing experiences. Perhaps the most unique and notable aspect of the visuals is how the lens flares are designed. Light sources like the sun always produce flares that take the form of angular shapes. There isn’t a particular rhyme or reason for this design choice, but rather it serves to further enforce the cartoony nature, which is perfectly welcome in my book.
So when you think of “self-insertion” in anime, there’s a good chance that conjures up images of an ideal fantasy world in which the protagonist is blessed with numerous desires and conflict is trivialized; basically your typical harem or isekai. WataMote is self-insert in a different way, where you connect Tomoko’s various mishaps to that of your own. Once this happens, WataMote provides an experience few other anime could hope to emulate. It’s hellbent on reaching that one specific audience it’s directed towards, and does so marvelously. The “thorned rose” analogy is perhaps more applicable here than it is with any other show in recent memory. It is shame however that WataMote covers only a portion of its source material, meaning that an ideal conclusion for Tomoko isn’t present here. This leaves the only hope of getting one to the manga itself, or perhaps a possible anime sequel. Regardless of this shortcoming, I for one am glad to have laughed, cried, cringed, and cheered through Tomoko’s endeavors.
