Bakemonogatari is a difficult series to describe, at least when it comes to classifying it by genre or trying to explain what it's about, but there *is* one fitting label for it: avant-garde. While the label itself is predominantly used to denote the modernist works of fine arts, literature and film from the first half of the 20th century, it is still widely used by both the critics and general populace to describe the more experimental contemporary works in various media, and rightly so. After all, “avant-garde“ means “vanguard“; it's a term used to refer to people or works that are experimental or innovative, particularly with respect to art, culture and politics. It represents a pushing of the boundaries of what is accepted as the norm or the status quo, primarily in the cultural realm, and Bakemonogatari matches this definition in virtually every aspect.
The first obstacle one will encounter when trying to recommend or review the series is trying to explain or summarise the plot. This is because there is virtually no plot to speak of. The summary given here on MAL is very short, and potentially misleading. While the main character does indeed find himself surrounded by various supernatural apparitions and creatures, Bakemonogatari is not a supernatural-mystery/thriller/action series at all, certainly not in the usual sense. Saying that the plot is minimalistic would be a severe understatement.
The story is split into several arcs, lasting from two to five episodes, each of them revolving around a supporting character who has a problem of other-worldly nature, and how the main character helps them get rid of a supernatural being possessing and troubling them. However, the resolutions to these cases and problems aren’t achieved in the “traditional“ way associated with the supernatural mystery genre, i.e. by finding clues, acquiring some ancient legendary magical artifacts or casting complicated unholy spells. There is something resembling this, but in fact, 90% of this show consists of characters talking. And talking. And talking. And then, if they feel tired of talking, they talk some more. Seriously, compared to Bakemonogatari, Death Note looks like a silent film(!). But while this description might seem negative, the endless dialogue in this series is certainly not dull or stupid, even if it is just a bunch of nonsense. Basically, the dialogue in Bakemonogatari is what you'd get if you took a stream-of-thought approach and then just turned all that monologue into dialogue. Random, nonsensical, aimless, confusing... there's no end to synonyms that can be used to describe the dialogue in this series, for it's basically people bullshiting for 15 whole episodes, and yet, it is probably the most engaging and witty bullshit you'll ever hear. It's filled with countless word plays, puns, Japanese pop-culture references ( for example, a DBZ joke ) and the series can amaze the viewer with the sheer wit and cleverness of its script. By now you are already getting the idea where the “avant-garde“primarily lies in the series. It breaks numerous conventions of story-telling, and there is little point in me trying to further describe the “plot”, simply because Bakemonogatari is so different.
Obviously, this unusual nature of the story means it's definitely not suited for everyone and is more of an aquired taste. Not everyone will be amused by the endless nonsense the characters spout, even if it is witty and humourous, and while I'm presenting it in a positive light, Bakemonogatari is not all brilliant and ingenious in its unconventionality.
As cleverly written and engaging as it is, the story can take a lot of strain on the viewer, as some of the conversations drag on for the length of an entire episode with no change of setting or inclusion of additional characters. Some of the jokes and gags get repetitive too.
Furthermore, the actual explanations and resolutions to the supernatural problems are incredibly tedious and uninteresting, and are spouted more or less text-book style by a particular character in a single scene towards the end of an arc. Whether the supernatural background of the series is actual Japanese spiritual mythology or just something that Nisioisin ( the author of the light novels that the series was based on ) made up all by himself is not important, as the explanations are there just to resolve the “plot“ and conclude the arc, and it's probably the last thing the viewer is interested in.
The complete focus on the dialogue over the plot or deeper themes requires the show to field a satisfying cast of characters, and Bakemonogatari does achieve this, but only to an extent, for the aimless dialogue that permeates every pore of the story and the mini-arc format of the “plot” don't come without repercussions.
The cast of Bakemonogatari is basically a harem ( one guy + a bunch of girls that he interacts with ), only with sex being replaced with the never-ending dialogue. Not that there’s an absence of fanservice, but I’ll talk about that later.
The main protagonist, Koyomi Arararagi spends his days wandering aimlessly, not caring about the upcoming finals, picking his nose and minding his own business. That is, when he’s not busy helping a bunch of girls with their weird problems brought on by various supernatural monsters and apparitions. Also, during his interactions with these girls he never misses an opportunity to take a peek at their breasts or panties or more, depending on what’s on the menu. He’s an OK character, interesting to watch as he switches between being a normal absent-minded teenager, to becoming an over-excited sod, to a creepy child-molester who gropes and fights a 10-years old girl for no adequately explored reason. And I’m not even kidding.
The rest of the cast is a bunch of archetypes; girls that serve as baits for different factions of the otaku community and can range from a tsundere, to a slightly nymphomaniac lesbian, to a neko-girl. They aren’t cardboard cut-outs, though, and have as much personalities as their types allow them to develop, with the main star being Senjougahara Hitagi, the heroine of the first arc, the most recurring character of the cast ( apart from Arararagi, naturally ) and the fan favourite.
Senjougahara’s sharp tongue and interesting personality make her by far the best character of the entire cast, and her interactions with Araragi make some of the greatest moments in the entire series. She’s funny, she’s sarcastic, and can come across as sweet, witty and as a crazy psycho-bitch in a space of two minutes. Though I have to say I was personally disappointed with the direction her character development takes over the course of the series, as she becomes more an more normal.
BUT, again, and as previously stated, the avant-garde nature of the story takes its toll on the character development. The nonsensical content of the dialogue means that almost none of the characters comes across as being natural or realistic, except for maybe Araragi. The sheer aimlessness of the bullshit the character spew means the word “personality“ cannot be used in describing character development in its conventional sense. The dialogue present in the series is not how people talk, not even when high, and therefore the characters aren't real, believable people. Not to mention that they are very underdeveloped considering the amount of dialogue exchanged between them – again, because of the content of their dialogue.
Another problem with character development comes from the format of the story. As each arc is centred around a different girl, the characters from the previous ones get left behind in a routine manner, usually not to be heard or seen again, which severely limits the potential for their development. The exception to this is, apart from the protagonist, Senjougahara, whose appearance over the course of the series constantly steals the show every second she's on screen, which is in this case bad - both for the other characters as they lose the spotlight, but for the audience as well, as we want to see more of Senjougahara but the show won't let us.
There's also one character who is merely a convenient plot-device with the sole purpose to resolve the supernatural cases at the end of each arc. He also drags the quality of the cast down.
Much like the eccentric dialogue, the art style and cinematography of Bakemonogatari are very distinctive and different, however, they are every bit as mixed or “hit-or-miss” as the aforementioned dialogue.
Whether it was because the series is based on a novel, or in order to save money they didn’t have, Shaft added a strange feature to the visuals of Bakemonogatari - still, monochromatic images with some little text on them, which are flashed constantly over the course of the entire series. While they can appear at any given time, they are mostly used at the very beginning of each episode and in short pauses between the endless talking. Occasionally, these images hold a more substantial amount of text, but none of them last longer than a fraction of a second, which can irritate the viewer seeing as you don't know whether the text was crucial to the story, and have no time to read it as it goes.
This, combined with the fact that during most conversations the camera switches angles every half a second ( probably in fear that you'll fall asleep from all the talking if it doesn't occupy your eyes *somehow* ), can make for a very tiresome and exhaustive viewing experience, and many a viewer was put off by this strange and seizure-inducing editing.
While on the subject of camera angles, I should mention one other aspect of Bakemonogatari that also stands apart from its more conventional counterparts, and that is the fanservice. Maybe in a yet another attempt to keep your attention amidst the endless stream of words, or because this series is just one big otaku party, the show goes way out of its way to position the camera in the most provocative angle possible when showing any of the female members of the cast. Such practice is nothing new for gratuitous anime series, but the nonchalant way in which it is carried out is what’s distinctive about Bakemonogatari’s fanservice. It’s as if to say: “Oh, you find this image sexually suggestive? The angle is provocative? Huh. I didn’t notice”. Scenes of ( almost ) full female nudity come out of the blue so suddenly and unexpectedly you’ll be just as taken a back as Araragi. Boobs and bottoms are flashed out while their owners don’t seem to notice it at all or find their provocative behaviour strange or unusual in the slightest. Indeed, the fanservice of this particular kind is hard to find elsewhere.
As for the art itself, I’ll just briefly say that, while highly detailed and very colourful, it always felt a bit empty to me, particularly the outdoor scenes and settings.
The music, like the plot, is virtually non-existent, opening themes aside. This is completely understandable considering that 90% of the show is composed of dynamic and engaging dialogue – you wouldn’t want the music to distract you from the witty puns and references that are exchanged at the rate of over 9000 words per minute.
The soundtrack is therefore extremely minimalistic, rarely employing more than a single instrument per track and none of them being stand-alone numbers. It is also very quirky, utilising mostly electronic instruments and synthetic sounds to punctuate the dialogue. Music’s role in the series is minimal and is completely subservient to the visuals and the character interaction, but it accomplishes its small supporting task adequately.
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Now, while I have sung many a song of praise for Bakemonogatari and its experimental and unconventional nature, there are still many people who will disagree with me, mostly because they didn’t enjoy it. Likewise, the fans will probably disagree with me on issues of character development or visuals, saying that I’m being picky and criticising the show with little basis or consideration. Both groups would be wrong about my opinion on the series.
At the beginning of this review, I mentioned that Bakemonogatari was a test, an experiment that the studio Shaft used to learn lessons that eventually resulted in the creation of Madoka Magica. This observation and comparison is included in the review because Bakemonogatari is not a universally acclaimed series, despite its immense popularity – there is no shortage of anime fans calling it overrated or mediocre, and I’d like to create a bridge between the two opposing views by offering a new perspective on its eccentricity.
Both the fanatic admirers of the series and the... khm, “less enthusiastic” people, as well as the moderates between them seem to miss a point when thinking and talking about the series, and it is this oversight that results in people failing to give credit to Bakemonogatari where it’s due, or giving the credit but for the wrong reasons.
There was another term I used to describe this show - “avant-garde“, which means experimenting, and this is what Bakemonogatari ultimately is – an experiment, testing ground, and to properly appreciate it, you have to view it as such.
To see and rate it not at its face value and judge it by the established rules of the medium, but as a work that toys with elements and pushes the envelope so that it can explore things better, find its own conclusions and lessons through this experimenting, so that latter something more meaningful can be created.
I'm writing this to show that Bakemonogatari, the experiment, would be somewhat less worthy without its successor, its higher purpose – Madoka Magica. Naturally, this view was impossible to hold for those who watched it when it first came out or over the next year or so, because Madoka Magica wasn't created yet, but I have the advantage of viewing it in retrospect and applying adequate perspective and needed context to review it in as objective light as possible. Yes, Bakemonogatari still manages to stand on its own, but with this perspective its artistic quality is considerably raised and the show can be viewed in a whole new light. This bold experiment with the traditional art styles and cinematography paved the way for Shaft and Shinbo to take an even greater risk than adapting a quirky and unusual light novel, and create a completely original anime creation, in which they used all that was best about Bakemonogatari's style and discarded the parts that “missed”.
It is in this way that I appreciate Bakemonogatari the most; not so much as an entertaining display of wit, sarcasm and humour, but as a work that pushes the envelope of artistic visual expression in an animated medium, and paves the way for greater works to come. It is much more interesting for me as a critic to observe how a director and a studio mature in their artistic expression and apply their experiences and lessons in their future works, than listening to a conversation about bugger all, regardless of how sarcastic and funny the main heroine is.
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Time for me to pass my final judgement on Bakemonogatari. Overhyped by its considerable cult of enthusiastic fans, and at the same time underestimated by the number of people who didn't manage to enjoy it due to its very quirky nature, Bakermonogatari is certainly unconventional, and I'd confidently put it in the company of such shows as the Excel Saga, FLCL and Lucky Star..
While the fans say it establishes a completely new genre of its own, I'd challenge that on the basis of Bakemonogatari having very little actual substance to even categorise it as any kind of a genre. A combination of different existing genres ( like supernatural mystery and harem ) makes it a post-modernist creation, while the nature of the writing and visuals earn it a title of an avant-garde work. It doesn't feature “amazing character development, thought-provoking themes... deep symbolism“ as the loyal followers claim; its artistic qualities lie elsewhere, but it still does possess many qualities. It's certainly not a show for everyone, and not a must-see, but it's nevertheless an important work that should be properly appreciated. Unfortunately, the complete lack of substance means I cannot rate it higher than 7,5/10.
