The script’s strength lies in its dialogue during humorous moments, from its one-liners (“They’ve probably been on boats so long, their semicircular canals are busted.”) to the free-flowing conversations that highlight the characters’ personalities. Director Atsuko Ishizuka did an outstanding job at making me chuckle. Her comedic timing and directing are worthy of praise, especially when comedy anime – at most – only make me forcibly blow out air from my nose in mild amusement.
A hilarious example from episode 4 displays the superb comedic directing:
Kimari needs her mom’s permission to take time off from school to go to Antarctica and – in a stroke of teenage brilliance – decides to forge her signature. Kimari is unsure if her mom (Youko) found out, but she assumes her mom’s demeanor is calm (the camera focuses on her back as she cooks, her expression unseen). Not only is Kimari woefully wrong, her actions cause her mom to summon Satan himself. Mrs. Tamaki rushes her with her ladle before she has time to explain herself. Kimari runs for dear life, her figure running straight for the camera down a hallway; she smashes headfirst into the door, but, from our perspective, her cheeks press up against the camera’s lens. Dad arrives from work at that precise moment, takes one good look at the impending carnage, and backs away slowly. “Forgive me, my daughter!” he shouts as he holds the door shut from the outside, Kimari desperately screaming for help. It’s left up to our imagination what horrors she endures. Not only did it make me laugh, but I have re-watched this short scene countless times to appreciate its editing, cinematography, sound design, script, and character chemistry.
I will fight anyone until my dying breath in saying that best part of SoraYori is, ironically, in the episodes prior to their big trip, when the tonal pulse is more lighthearted and amusing. Many instances highlight the series’ strong comedic timing, but I will restrain myself and give only one more example (episode 2):
Hinata: “If you can still turn back, it’s not really a journey. When you hit the point of no return, that’s the moment it becomes a journey.”
Kimari: Wow that sounds like a quote! Who said it originally?
Hinata: *immediately replies* ME!
Kimari: *after a beat* Oh.
The creators did an impressive amount of research for the anime – and it clearly shows. Singapore’s landmarks, cuisine and skylines (like the balcony shot from Marina Bay Sands) are expertly recreated. Someone cook me some Hainanese chicken rice and kaya toast before I start gnawing on my computer screen. The pre-trip preparation the girls go through is also accurate, such as learning how to use walkie-talkies, route-mapping or flag-setting correctly.
However, as we all know, Antarctica is the real star here. According to an interview posted on SoraYori’s official website, the crew received help from the National Institute of Polar Research and the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force. Director Ishizuka also asked previous expedition members about their daily lives in Antarctica and gathered many pictures from Showa Station (both inside and outside). Anime depicts the Penguin Manju exactly like its real life counterpart, Shirase AGB-5003, such as its ice-breaking capabilities. Once they get closer to Antarctica, the boat rocks harder due to the extremely strong current (no land mass impeding it). Rules about Japanese Antarctica expeditions are also correct; East Ongul Island is the only place Japan can go due to the rules being set up after the Second World War. Researchers in real life also set up solar panels, gather seawater to analyze bacteria, and conduct geological surveys. Frankly, the attention to detail is phenomenal.
One of the most prevalent themes in SoraYori is escapism as a coping mechanism to life’s struggles. Running away feels like a fantastic solution when we come face-to-face with our own personal faults. Unlike shows like Welcome to the NHK and Neon Genesis Evangelion, SoraYori does not condemn escaping the pain of existence, since it can potentially serve as a tool for personal growth. While my philosophical stance on the matter is the opposite (avoidance only prolongs our existential dread), I still found it unique to see how characters filled the void in their hearts by traveling to the ends of the Earth.
Although Kimari Tamaki is my least favorite main character, her character arc is one of the most meaningful in the narrative. Kimari starts as an anxiety-ridden girl that focuses on possible negative outcomes all too much. Filled with regrets about not doing anything exciting in her life, she strives for change but self-sabotages any attempt. Her family views her as lazy, whose room needs a bright yellow hazards sign. Nevertheless, she is also very idealistic and jumps onboard Shirase’s idea to go to Antarctica, despite her classmates shunning her. Her journey for greater self-confidence and independence is believable, although I find her annoying as a person.
Before SoraYori fans find out where I am hiding, I will focus on dramatic moments that worked for me. Succinctly put, every sad scene having to do with Shirase. Her mother’s disappearance molded her into becoming a girl full of determination with a clear vision of the future. Her single-minded, obsessive pursuit of her dream makes her an outcast among her peers, and she does not give a single fuck. Shirase never gives up, and her attitude is certainly inspirational to us viewers. Is it any surprise that she is my favorite character in the anime? Takako and Shirase’s bond is shown through flashbacks and memories, and if my heart were not made of cold steel, I probably would have shed some tears.
Shirase: “But once we get there, there is nowhere left to go. If I go and nothing changed, I think…I’m going to spend the rest of my life feeling this way.”
Her reaction to stepping onto Antarctica for the first time is memorable. It is a fat middle finger to everyone that doubted her. It is emotionally stirring and relatable because we all have dreams, some more difficult to achieve than others. While there are individuals who never even try because they find it too impossible, the anime grabs the viewer by the shoulders and insists that the struggle is worth it.
Unfortunately, the serious scenes, more often than not, made me roll my eyes. The series wastes a great amount of time on trivialities instead of naturally unfolding drama in Antarctica. The girls are only in Antarctica for a scant five episodes, but not every scene is as impactful as I would have wanted. Episode 11’s melodrama actually made me wonder if I could be doing something more entertaining instead – like cleaning up my cat’s puke-covered hairballs or making an appointment with my gynecologist. There are two major reasons why the drama lost me on several occasions: the cause of the conflict and unrealistic character reactions.
“But BurntFlower,” the voices in my head argue, “you were once a teenage girl! Surely you can remember what that was like, right?” Of course, and no one wants to see that shit. I am confident that you would all gulp down a bottle of bleach over watching me cry about the time my Neopets account got frozen. A large chunk of the anime’s drama occurs when the plot dictates that the girls should be sobbing or shouting at each other. I could connect with Shirase more easily, because her problems are far graver in comparison to those of her friends. Takako’s disappearance also has a harrowing effect on several secondary characters and my heart went out to them. Forgive me for thinking that sobbing over a lost passport does not translate to compelling television. Another instance of forced drama happens in the aforementioned episode 11: Character A snoops through Character B’s emails because Character B is acting strangely. Character B enters the room at that exact moment and catches Character A in the act. Uh oh, conflict! Rinse and repeat.
Maybe I would have empathized more with their dilemmas if they did not have overblown reactions. They scream out their emotions loudly and cry gallons of tears. People hide hurt feelings with a smile and a laugh, and get upset when their peers take their façade at face value. There is plenty of kicking large piles of snow and frustrating passive-aggressiveness. While it did not reach soap opera levels of melodrama, I would not have been surprised if the line, “ME HAS TRAICIONADO, MALDITA PUTA!” had been uttered at some point.
Whereas I found that spectacle irritating, one character’s entire being brought my overall enjoyment crashing down – Megumi. She perfectly encapsulates the show’s weaknesses in one bespectacled package. Episode 5 needs to wear cement shoes and jump into the ocean. I will not reveal why I hate her guts because that would require me to go into spoiler territory, but every time the show depicts her in a sympathetic light, I cringed. The narrative’s positive portrayal of Kimari and Megumi’s friendship made my blood boil. Did I understand the motivation behind her actions? Sort of. Does that mean I have to like her? Hell no.
Another overarching theme is the need to forge genuine friendships in an inauthentic society. Is there such a thing as a true self? Are real relationships with other people possible if we are all prone to lying? No other character finds this ontological dilemma more disconcerting than Hinata Miyake. Bubbly and extroverted, smart enough to graduate high school early, and a lovable walking contradiction. Great at being the voice of reason, except when it comes to her own problems. Loathes shallow relationships, but wears a metaphorical mask to hide her real feelings. Puts others’ wellbeing over her own, but hates people belittling her. Do not get me wrong, I am not disparaging her character, I am praising how real she felt to me.
While Hinata’s struggles are all about her defiance to societal conformity, Shiraishi Yuzuki longs for connection in an alienating world. She never had any friends growing up because she was always acting. Succumbing to her mother’s influence, Shiraishi has been adrift in a sea of self-negation and powerlessness. When she got into high school, she wanted to make friends, but people only saw her as a celebrity, not a self-realized individual. It is in her rebellion to the absurdity of her own loss of control (represented by her agent-mother), she finally becomes true to herself and finds friends. While her characterization revolves around the importance of friendship, she did not feel as fleshed out as the other girls, although I liked her quite a fair bit.
Supporting characters are notable as well. Todo Gin is a strict, straightforward, and fair captain, whose past still haunts her. Despite being close friends (or more?) with Takako, Shirase and Todo never talked a lot, an unspoken distance between them. How their relationship unfolds on their trip to Antarctica is noteworthy. There are other secondary characters, but they ranged from great comic relief (Kimari’s family), to exposition providers (Kanae), or forgettable extras (that dude who is in love with Gin).
Character designs are not very memorable and seem slightly out of place in their incredibly detailed, lush set pieces. Given people in this universe are awash in a pale color palette with jarring white highlights, the world around them stands in a vivacious, colorful contrast to them. Some would argue that this artistic choice is necessary in order to make Antarctica all the more vibrant and alive. However, while the backgrounds are a sight for sore eyes, the characters should have had that stylistic oomph instead – especially in a character driven work like SoraYori. Art design preference aside, Madhouse delivered consistently in the animation front, which accentuated the magic of discovery. One of the most breathtaking scenes in the anime is when the girls see a sun pillar – an optical illusion caused by ice pillars – which lights up the sky in an amazing array of orange and red hues. Excellent. Well-implemented CGI is evident in their trip to the museum, boat, trains, giving them that rustic, almost cyberpunk look.
I cannot say I liked either the OP or ED. They are both so sugary-sweet I feared I was going to become pre-diabetic. However, let me reveal my bias here, dear reader. I listen solely to metal, and anything less than a demonic growl unearthed from the deepest bowels of hell sounds too soft for me. Hence, your mileage may vary. Frankly, I enjoyed the OST much more. Episode 5 has some of my favorite tracks; there is a lovely piano piece that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of ‘Close to You’ by The Carpenters. A pleasant guitar tune accompanies Kimari leaving home and preparing for her long trip abroad. A Jaws-lite theme song and stock scream effects play at the right times in comedic moments. As for the voice actors, I would say they all do a respectable job at bringing their characters to life. I know you can all sense the unspoken ‘but’ in my previous sentence, so I’ll cut the BS: Kimari’s high-pitched voice drove me up a wall.
Fortunately, the ending did not disappoint in the slightest. It wraps everything up in a satisfying way, the tone is appropriate, the dialogue is effective, and it pulls on one’s heartstrings…except for the final shot. I can admit that moe shows and me are like oil and water; shake us all you want, we will never mix well. Nevertheless, Sora Yori Mo Tooi Basho is more than a tolerable experience…it is one worthy of being remembered.
Recommended to people who would be willing to sacrifice their first-born child just for a chance at cuddling a bunch of penguins in the middle of nowhere. Fair trade, mate.
