Introduction
Bakemonogatari is the first installment in the Monogatari Series, a series of novels written by Nisio Isin. In short, the Monogatari Series is about its characters maturing and becoming better people by way of overcoming their internal (sometimes external) conflicts and insecurities.
It is a gripping character piece and a technical and audiovisual marvel that fully capitalizes on the strengths of its medium.
Story
One would expect a series named ‘Story’ to have a multilayered narrative that seamlessly juggles complex and profoundly deep themes. While that is the case (to a certain extent) in the later installments, Bakemonogatari’s narrative is simple and straightforward in comparison.
The audience follows the story through the eyes of Araragi Koyomi over five arcs. Every arc has a different main heroine and explores different themes; however, they have a few things in common. One of them is how the heroines resolve their conflicts with Araragi’s help. At this point, it would be good to clarify that my abovementioned description of the series is also an oversimplification. The show depicts said conflicts and insecurities in a way that is unusual and wonderfully unique. Through the brilliant integration of supernatural elements, the characters’ internal feelings, insecurities, and traits are portrayed as functionally corresponding spirits or creatures called oddities. For example, Senjougahara’s strong desire to forget her past feelings led to her encounter with the Weight Crab, an oddity which made her weightless (in Japanese, feelings『思い』and heavy『重い』are both read ‘omoi’). Moreover, Senjougahara’s outwards abrasive, but sweet-on-the-inside personality is represented by the hard shell, yet soft inside of a crab. I can’t emphasize enough how creative this is and how much it elevates a potentially dull character trait due to the unique twist.
Another important thing to highlight would be the romance aspect of the show, which Bakemonogatari executes beautifully. The relationship between Senjougahara and Araragi began with one of my favorite lines from Araragi: “If our views clash, then let us properly talk about it”. I consider romance in fiction to be a double-edged sword - if executed correctly, it can provide a powerful emotional hook; however, if not, it can drag shows down and make them a chore to watch. Bakemonogatari combats this by having Senjougahara become romantically interested in Araragi very early on and having them become a couple as early as the fifth episode. In the novel, she even states that she hates “romantic comedies where it’s obvious the two characters are going to get together at the end, but instead they drag out the story with a bunch of lukewarm twists and turns”. As a result, their relationship feels uneasy and (at times) artificial to start; however, by the end, they truly do connect and develop feelings for one another. This, along with their hilarious back-and-forth banter, makes for an extremely enjoyable and gratifying romance.
I won’t talk about the arcs in detail; however, I will mention that all of them, excluding Sengoku’s, are connected by the theme of overcoming one’s past. Senjougahara overcoming her trauma that was caused by the disarray in her family, Hachikuji became a ghost due to not being able to locate her mother’s house before dying, and Kanbaru and Hanekawa are tormented by their unrequited love. The most impressive thing about Bakemonogatari’s arcs is that they serve as a brilliant setup for the later installments while offering elegant character development, and a smooth introduction to the oddity system. Though it feels a tad self-indulgent and over-reliant on sex appeal, Bakemonogatari offers an enticing story fueled by its quirky and lovable characters.
Characters
Speaking of quirky and lovable characters, here’s the character section.
The most interesting aspect to note about Bakemonogatari’s heroines is that they are pseudo-parodies or outright mockeries of established tropes in anime. Senjougahara is a blatant lampooning of tsunderes, Hanekawa is reminiscent of the childhood friend trope, Sengoku is a typical moe girl, etc. Where the brilliance lies, however, is in the way Isin, in addition to providing meta and deconstructive commentary on the tropes, also subverts them to give the characters meaningful development and progression. What's noteworthy as well is that the characters’ development doesn’t conclude in Bakemonogatari. As I’ve already mentioned, what Bakemonogatari offers is phenomenal characterization through fun-to-listen-to exchanges between characters, and an excellent setup for future confrontations.
Araragi Koyomi is the glue that holds the series together. His idealistic tendencies resulted in him having to face constant reality checks and accept unfavorable compromises which helped form his likable and relatably human personality. He is a bit of a pervert, and he certainly isn’t the brightest lightbulb; however, I couldn’t have asked for a more fitting protagonist for this series.
Oshino Meme is Bakemonogatari’s paragon character. His trademark line “People can only help themselves” ironically, yet perfectly describes his methodology. The advice he gives to someone is often ambiguous, which leaves the person he’s helping in a state of confusion, but in turn makes them think for themselves, helping them grow as a person. Him leaving the town signifies his belief that everyone he’s given advice to has matured to the point of being able to resolve their own conflicts and confidently help others.
Senjougahara Hitagi is not a tsundere. The closest she comes to being one is when Isin decides to use her as a meta-fictional medium for mocking the trope. I have a hard time understanding how anyone who’s seen the “tsundere service” scene from episode fourteen could unsarcastically label her as one. Moving past that, Senjougahara is Bakemonogatari’s frontwoman, owning the spotlight in every scene she finds herself in, completely enthralling the audience with her charismatic and forthright personality. Her brash exclamations of love and/or discontent, and Araragi’s hilarious, yet realistically reserved responses are the cornerstone of one of the most inexplicably enjoyable relationship dynamics I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing. She is a breath of fresh air and a phenomenal female lead.
Kanbaru Suruga is a unique character – she’s insecure and harbors an inferiority complex towards Araragi due to his relationship with Senjougahara, but acts like a libido-driven exhibitionist, teasing him with lewd propositions and bawdy humor in order to hide it. It could be said that this aspect of her is taken to the extreme, as Isin never shied away from letting her speak her mind, but this is not without its merits. What makes Kanbaru truly shine are the moments in which she forgoes this act (intentionally or otherwise) and shows glimpses of her true self – a loving, calm and reflective person. Her humor is blunt and loud, but that is precisely what makes those moments special, gracing them with a profound serenity.
At first glance, Hachikuji Mayoi could be classified as comedic relief; however, it’d be a major disservice to her character to do so. A lot of times during the series, Araragi will be interacting with someone on the streets while he’s traveling from place to place. However, there’ll be times when he’ll be traveling alone and he’ll have no one to talk with over the phone, and this is where Hachikuji steps in. Watching the two argue over anything and everything, and listening to their engrossing banter makes her role in the story very clear – she offers a sort of safe-haven for Araragi when he’s on the road, alone with his thoughts. Her presence gives off an odd sense of security which beautifully dovetails with the overarching themes of her arc. Hachikuji embodies motifs of family and home while being a source of great comedy and a joy to listen to.
Sengoku Nadeko stands out as Bakemonogatari’s main character with the least substance, though that isn’t inherently a bad thing. Her childish personality has its merits and is important to take note of, as she will be explored in-depth further down the line.
When discussing Hanekawa Tsubasa, it’s hard not to talk about the melancholic aura that surrounds her. From her first conversation with Araragi, it’s plain to see that Hanekawa is shouldering a heavy burden. Maintaining her image as an ideal student while suppressing her romantic feelings and familial troubles was severely taxing on her mental health and continuously added new cracks to her cheerful façade until her stress finally manifested itself as an oddity. In many ways, Black Hanekawa is what Hanekawa longs to be – she’s confident, seductive and free to go where she pleases. Knowing that the roots of her stress haven’t been dealt with and seeing her don a warm smile in the epilogue made me deeply sympathize with her. Though Hanekawa’s arc ends on a negative note, Bakemonogatari ends with a heartwarming scene displaying the bonds the characters have formed which left me in high hopes that all of them, including Hanekawa, will be fully content with themselves at some point in the series.
Visuals
For the sake of clarity and getting my point across better, I’ll separate ‘visuals’ into two categories – art (character design, background, etc.) and direction/storyboarding.
Bakemonogatari is a beautiful looking show. Studio Shaft went above and beyond in making sure every frame looks polished to the point where it could be considered wallpaper-worthy. That is obviously an exaggeration, but in all seriousness, Shaft produces some of the most gorgeous looking backdrops in the industry.
There are two crucial aspects in a character’s design – the look itself and the extent to which the design reflects the character’s personality. The Monogatari Series nails both, with the characters looking sleek while also revealing plenty about themselves to a viewer’s first glance. Senjougahara’s menacing facial expression and Sengoku’s uncomfortable posture are excellent examples of design being strung together with personality. A lot of the characters have some sort of symbolic detail affixed to their design as well. Hanekawa’s cat-shaped hair clips or Hachikuji’s ‘snail shell-looking’ backpack are just a few examples. These details don’t necessarily add anything to the characters in terms of substance, but they are neat and they add to my appreciation of the series.
A good descriptor of Studio Shaft’s direction and storyboarding would be the word ‘eclectic’. Even to the untrained eye many of Shaft’s stylistic idiosyncrasies should be noticeable - zany jump cuts and sequencing, playful and/or symbolic scene composition, quick flashes of imagery to illustrate a character’s surroundings, the use of color-coded still-frames for various occasions, frequent switching of the art-style, etc. What’s important to note here is that these ‘techniques’ aren’t inherently groundbreaking or remarkable; however, their implementation is exceptional. For example, take a random scene of Araragi observing something and pay close attention to each shot – a subtle indicator for an upcoming perspective shot will be shown in the form of a shot of his eye or a close-up. Another great example is whenever flashcards are used to highlight pivotal character lines or story beats. The directors, Shinbou Akiyuki and Oishi Tatsuya have carefully constructed every scene so camera emphasis is always meticulously placed – if they wanted the viewer to see something, they will show it in a clever way.
To further illustrate my point, and to tie into the last paragraph I’m going to talk about the novels in a bit more detail. Isin utilizes a writing style akin to ‘stream of consciousness writing’ which is characterized by narration that describes happenings in the flow of thoughts in the minds of characters. As a result, their writing is hectic, conversations often digress, or get detailed or segmented. It’s a self-indulgent and at times unfocused style; however, it isn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination. When pulled off correctly, in addition to completely immersing the reader, it establishes a more intimate relationship between the reader and the characters. It’s also a great vehicle for Isin’s character-centric humor. It is precisely Shaft’s style of editing that displays their understanding of Isin’s writing mannerisms, as well as what makes their shows so interesting and endlessly iconic.
Sound
The ‘Bakemonogatari Original Soundtrack’ is an instantaneously recognizable collection of impeccably produced and deeply evocative pieces of music. Tracks such as “Shugendou” and “Gaidan Kousetsu” make the oddities and folk tales feel tangible, while “Zaregoto”, “Jinchiku” and “Suteki Meppou” are microcosms of the series’ inherent strangeness and playfulness. Oddly nostalgic tracks such as “Classmate”, “Nichiyoubi” and “Sanpo” permeate a sense of safety, comfort, and romance. It’s an intently composed, extraordinary track-list, in which each track is not only varied to the point of being iconic in its own right but also elevates and/or complements scenes tonally, thematically, narratively or otherwise.
Openings are something I seldom consider a contributing factor to a show’s artistic value; however, that is not the case with the Monogatari Series. Not only does Bakemonogatari have five openings spread across its fifteen episodes, but throughout the series’ entire runtime the openings are sung by the respective heroine’s respective voice actor as well. It’s a testament to how much heart and dedication has been poured into the Monogatari Series both by the studio and the voice actors.
Bakemonogatari’s voice actors are phenomenal. From the most prolific names – Kamiya Hiroshi, Sawashiro Miyuki, Hanazawa Kana; to the lesser-known ones – Saito Chiwa, Katou Emiri, etc; Shaft have attentively picked out a cast of voice actors that give Isin’s characters voices full of vibrancy, wit and, most importantly, heart. As I’ve mentioned, their devotion to the series is incredible. All of them have read Bakemonogatari prior to (or immediately after) auditioning in order to most effectively integrate their voice and speaking habits with the characters. Kamiya Hiroshi had even, at the time of his audition, read all of Isin’s hitherto published Monogatari novels multiple times. I adore each and every one of their portrayals of the characters, and I couldn’t imagine a line-up of voice actors more perfect than this.
Closing words
Watching Bakemonogatari (and the Monogatari Series as a whole) has been a unique and unforgettable experience for me. Though a bit esoteric, with its visual and narrative boldness, it’s one of the few shows I can label as successfully experimental. Its fun-factor never stifles nor plateaus, and I recommend it to not only appreciators of excellent cinematography, but to any casual watchers as well, since, in my eyes, Bakemonogatari stands as a paragon of creative expression and progression.
