Directed by Yasuhiro Yoshiura, Time of Eve (2008) is a six-episode ONA set in a near-future world where humans and androids that look, sound, and act like people coexist. Except, of course, for those halo-like glowing rings over their heads; a dead giveaway for “what” they are. Social norms demand that androids remain tools, not companions, and certainly not equals. But there’s a haven, Time of Eve, a café where the only rule is: No discrimination between humans and robots.
The Café
The café is warm and inviting with its amber lighting and retro-modern aesthetic, it stands in as the show's helm. The characters, both human and android, are sketched out with a delicate precision and empathy, allowing their struggles to draw you in naturally.
Take Rikuo, the protagonist, whose teenage-like skepticism about his family’s house android leads him to the Time of Eve café. His journey is as much about questioning societal norms as it is about unraveling his very own underlying prejudice. Then there’s Sammy, his android, whose motives and emotions are seemingly ambiguous. Other café patrons like: Koji and Rina (two unknowing androids), carry a relationship riddled with irony and linearity, not so different from the human experience.
The Art of Restraint
Where most sci-fi leans hard on exposition, Time of Eve takes the opposite approach. Its storytelling is minimalist, trusting the audience to infer meaning through visuals, character expressions, and conversational dialogue.
And then there’s the animation. It’s soft and fitting. Whether it’s the subtle shifts in facial expressions, the video-game style POVs, a quiet clink of coffee cups, or the glow of the setting sun streaming through the café’s windows—it all works together, building a calm for the world.
The OST, composed by Tohru Okada, deserves its flowers, too. Sparse yet evocative, a soft piano melody and drony hums, a contemplative lullaby for the viewers.
Themes/Takeaways
If you’re hoping Time of Eve (2008) will grace you with some groundbreaking thesis about artificial intelligence or the nature of humanity, you’ll be left with an empty mug. You see, Time of Eve (2008) was never here to preach. Instead, it offers you a cup of coffee and maybe a mosaic of perspectives too. So what do you think?
Conclusion
So, if you’re in the mood for something short and understated yet admirable, pull up a chair, the café is open. Let Time of Eve brew you a cup of quiet reflection.
