I don’t often return to re-watch shows, or even individual episodes, unless I really liked them the first time around. Chuunibyou is the odd exception to this rule. My experience with this anime is one of subverted expectations, disappointment, return, and reconsideration. To this date, I’m not entirely sure what I should rate this series, and I’m hoping that writing this review will help work out this conclusion in my own mind.
Let’s get the basics out of the way. Chuunibyou demo Koi ga Shitai!, otherwise known as “Regardless of My Adolescent Delusions of Grandeur, I Want a Date!” or affectionately Chu-2 Byo in the fandom, is a story of teenagers at different stages of grappling with some sort of delusion or fantasy. In the anime, it’s most popularly portrayed as the belief that one has mystical powers or is somehow connected with the superhuman realm. It was this premise that initially attracted me to the show. The show is about anime characters who believe themselves to be right out of an anime. In my mind, the potential for meta-analysis was supreme – what kind of narrative would this show follow? How would the writers guide us through a consideration of what it means to have a delusion, and is a delusion really delusional if it might actually be the truth? It’s an interesting premise if it were true, but I was soon to find that it really wasn’t.
The anime tells the story of two protagonists – Togashi Yuuta and Takanashi Rikka, two high-schoolers who share a common past experience of the aforementioned “Chuunibyou,” or eighth-grader syndrome. While the former wants to forget his past obsession, remembering it to be embarrassing and hurting his potential for high-school relationships, the latter remains completely committed to a vague goal of finding something called the “Ethereal Horizon.” The two are jointed in a SOS-brigade reminiscent club by Sanae Dekomori and Shinka Nibutani, the former of which joins Rikka on her ongoing delusions and the latter of which just wants to forget her Chuunibyou past. The main group is rounded out by Tsuyuri Kumin, the single member of the main cast unafflicted by the syndrome. As I’m preparing for this to be a somewhat sizeable review, I’ll turn to the characters in more detail next.
I think that my largest gripe with this series comes from the male MC, Yuuta, and the circumstances surrounding his introduction to high school. After first seeing this series some years ago, I’ve had a hard time finding language to describe him besides “flat.” What makes up a character? Qualities and attributes that we normally call characteristics. Certain combinations of qualities develop in particular ways, giving writers the ability to shape their growth and ultimately tell a story. Characters that show multiple characteristics, even those that might appear to come into conflict with each other, are called round characters. Frequently, most main characters are round, as developing and building on multiple qualities helps to show nuance and spurs true development. Why am I repeating what we all learned in elementary school? It’s because the writers of Chu-2 seemed to miss this memo. Yuuta is just insanely flat, showing a single character attribute – an irresistible attraction to others. Since watching this series, I’ve played a few visual novels and feel like the archetypal MC - a faceless, predictable male who somehow manages to attract others towards him – is an excellent parallel to Yuuta. I can’t help but remember how one of his earlier laments is not having enough time to “keep up” with the dating game he plays on a copyright-spoofed DS. But wait! Isn’t the point of the anime to show how Yuuta changes from a kid just interested in forgetting his past into one who willfully embraces it in order to help a new friend? Perhaps, but again it’s hard for me not to see this as all-encompassed in his single defining character attribute of attraction. We’ll get more into this later.
While less frustrating for me than Yuuta, Rikka carries her own set of issues. My initial problem with her involves just how long the series takes to get around to explaining the basis of her Chuunibyou. In a 12-episode series, they wait until episode 7 to show why she embraces these delusions? This explanation is also somehow buried in the beach episode, which kind of rubs me the wrong way. In general, though, much of Rikka’s character is expression of fantasy – it is how she copes with daily challenges and navigates her daily life and relationships. What I struggle with is how much of the show is dedicated to these fantastical scenes. Let’s be honest – this show is directed by Ishihara, who I’m pretty sure is incapable of creating a poor fantasy scene. However, I’m disappointed that these scenes seem to take precedence over those that really dig deeper into who Rikka is. I’d expect that her delusions surrounding her father’s death and breakup of her family would be gradually developed along with conversations with others and meaningful exploration of her inner thoughts, but instead they’re all dropped on us like a bomb more than halfway through the series. Perhaps this is just a pacing issue, with Sanae and Shinka taking surprising prevalence in the earlier half of the season, but I can’t help but think there’s a bigger fundamental issue at play. At any rate, it’s worth looking at those two characters next.
Nibutani Shinka is an interesting case that somehow manages to be one of the series’ worst. Like Yuuta, she tries to forget her teenage delusions by stuffing them into the past, an effort constantly thwarted by her younger counterpart. But unlike most of the other characters, she fails to come to grips at all with her delusions (at least in this season), or really make any effort to. She exists only to provide typical competition for Yuuta’s affections in very VN-reminiscent style, and to provide romantic advice for Rikka as the series nears its conclusion. I struggle to see her purpose, as she fails to change or develop, outside of comic relief with Sanae or perhaps as some archetypal example of someone who throws away her past rather than learning from it. She, like Yuuta, is flat and frustratingly so, and pretty much the closest thing I can think of to a series antagonist (Tooka is hard to count here), as she encourages her fellow characters to discard her past in the same way she did.
Dekomori Sanae is a different beast, and thankfully a much better one, being by far the most nuanced of the major cast. It’s hard not to see her, at first glance, as a carbon copy of Rikka and her steadfast crony in her fantastical delusions. The difference is that Dekomori seems almost further in her syndrome than Rikka is. While the latter shows signs of breaking through, particularly after the standoff with Tooka and upon realizing her affections for Yuuta, the former remains far more steadfast than even the one she calls Master. I alluded to this earlier, but I re-watched an episode of this series in preparation for this review, and I think it was this second viewing of episode 11 where this first really made sense to me. Yuuta and Nibutani know fully well that their delusions are fiction and decide to give them up, Rikka is unaware that her delusions are fiction and therefore embraces them, but Dekomori is fully aware that her delusions are fiction but embraces them anyway. Why? I can’t answer that question, but I’m increasingly convinced that it’s her – not Yuuta’s letter from his past self, not Rikka’s two-year-prior encounter with him – that convinces Yuuta to return to his old delusions and ultimately help Rikka grapple with her loss. I’m just so frustrated that this subtlety is buried so deep within the series, covered under Rikka and Yuuta’s awkwardness and Sanae and Nibutani’s spats that it took me this long to uncover. I see so much Ishihara in Dekomori’s character, and it kills me that so little emphasis is given here.
Finally, I’ll turn to Tsuyuri Kumin, a character who I find somewhat confusing. It’s clear that her main purpose is to provide comic relief, which she does to a limited extent. However, like other members of the main cast, she remains mainly flat, and appears largely static throughout the course of the show. I will remark, however, that her bizarre relationship with Chuunibyou, alluded to in the last episode and expounded upon a bit more in the second season, is notable. As the only member of the club who alleges no involvement with the syndrome, she carries a unique perspective of respectful interest without the same level of disregard shown by Nibutani or embracement displayed by Dekomori and Rikka. Again, however, he character fails in similar ways to most of the others – lack of meaningful character development and change over time.
I’ve looked at the characters to what I believe is a satisfactory amount, so next I’d like to comment on what remains in the plot. Firstly, outside of the pacing issues that I’ve previously explored, I find myself frustrated with how some of the character relationships progress throughout the show. Rikka obviously has an interesting relationship with her older sister from the beginning of the show, and it’s eventually revealed that this is due to their different ways of processing grief. However, I’m not satisfied with the way this is ultimately concluded in the plot – neither sister truly comes to a full understanding or appreciation of the other, leaving Yuuta to navigate between the two. Convincing a high school crush to break your younger sister free of their childhood delusions seems like a contrived plot device at best, and a lazy one at worst. In related notes, I’m frustrated with just how much of the climax seems to appear at the very end, with Yuuta’s decision and the discovery of the Ethereal Horizon comprising less than one episode. Like I said before, pacing is an issue.
While I do have the major premise to still discuss, I’ll turn quickly to some of the typical points before getting there. The art – it’s a KyoAni, what do you expect? In general, it’s wonderful. Scenery is beautifully drawn, the animation is generally fluid and pleasing, and while it doesn’t quite reach the Takemoto-levels of color fantasy seen in the movie, it’s really fun just to watch. The music is also really good – between the first and second season and the “lite” additions I can’t really think of a song I don’t like. Sparkling Daydream in particular is especially good (MAGINOBIONICS on Youtube for those who care). Typical excellent execution on the art and music side by KyoAni, though I can’t say I’m surprised.
Finally, to the major discussion – the themes. Like I said before, this show is one of delusion. I’ll use a simple example to illustrate my thoughts here. Rikka is convinced that she has fantastic powers, those frequently seen in various anime. However, Rikka herself is an anime character. Other characters, Yuuta included, are also anime characters, but instead try to convince Rikka that she lacks these anime-popular powers. In this case – and if you’re laughing right now, I’m being serious – who is correct? The answer is pretty obvious. In our world, they’re anime characters, but in theirs, they’re normal kids. If the writers had decided to do something a little differently, they wouldn’t be – Rikka’s supposition would be correct and Yuuta would be the fool. But this isn’t the case.
However, here’s where things start to get kind of interesting. Remember the series conclusion? Rikka actually does find what she knows as the “Ethereal Horizon.” For her, it actually exists, and it requires Yuuta, the critical, to embrace it himself in order to make it so (Dekomori being the actual acting force here, but I’ll ignore that for now). Does this sound familiar? Somehow, anime keeps bringing me back to Shakespeare, and I’ll recount the ever famous “Why, then, 'tis none to you, for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” (Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2) But no, the Ethereal Horizon is just a psychological representation of Rikka’s grief and represents her ability to say goodbye to her departed father…right? I think that this explanation isn’t necessarily true. If it were, why couldn’t she just work out her loss without Chuunibyou, just like her older sister? You’ve got to realize that this series comes from the same producer that developed Haruhi, an anime that grapples deeply of what it means to be real. Now while I think Tanigawa had a notion in mind that Torako didn’t, KyoAni might be bringing the very edge of these themes to light in this anime in a Haruhi-reminiscent fashion.
Where in the world am I going with this? While this would require a much larger explanation than I am going to give here (and frankly isn’t suitable for what’s supposed to be an anime review), I think that Chuunibyou attempts, and unfortunately largely fails, to explore the fact that delusions, fantasies, and the like, are a lot more real than many of us give credit. I wish the writers would have delved deeper into how, exactly, this comes to be, but instead we only get a few quick moments in Episode 11 and again in 12. This series is way more a romance and drama than it is a serious consideration of the delusions that make up its namesake, and I find that kind of disappointing.
So let’s cut to the chase. Do I recommend this show? Weakly. If you’re into romantic comedy, maybe this will be up your alley. If you like the typical great animation and music that KyoAni is known for, go for it. But if you’re looking for something as meta as Haruhi that delves into whether or not anime characters are self-aware, or even deeply grapples with the problem of delusion, you won’t get that here. Perhaps my expectations are too high, and after re-visiting this season in light of this review I’m definetely seeing where I underestimated and misunderstood some characters. But for now, I’m leaving it as is.
