Behind The Nihon Review

This might seem like a silly question, since, while it’s not universally acclaimed… it’s pretty close.  It’s an anomaly for two reasons, (and that’s without considering just how strange/unique the anime is to begin with), the first is because the anime community is just so fractured (a somewhat lamentable fact that I won’t go into here) that it’s almost impossible to find any anime that’s “accepted” as good, and the other because it’s firmly entrenched within the much maligned genre of romance melodrama based on a visual novel… an “eroge” to be more precise.  Sure, the anime certainly has its detractors (what anime doesn’t), but they’re not vocal, and even among them there’s at least a recognition of its uniqueness and creativity.  The consensus among the majority is that it is a unique and creative work which pushes the bounds of its genre, has a good story, filled with themes and symbolism and a lot to say about its characters and is genuinely artistic.  The strange thing is that this majority isn’t exactly vocal either, and there seems to be this apprehension to recommend this anime to people adverse to the genre… even though its accepted (as much as an anime can be “accepted”) that it avoids the tropes that give the genre a bad reputation.  (This post has spoilers for ef – a tale of memories).

I’ve been into works, whether that be films or books, that are heavy on themes lately, and for that reason I’ve been finding myself training my eye on an anime’s themes in particular while watching them, and more willing to laud works that execute their themes well.  ef – a tale of memories has a bucketload of themes, one of the reasons why I’m such a big fan of it.  One of the most memorable moments in the show comes in episode 5 when Kei confronts Miyako about Hirono and how she wishes for him to come back to school and start attending on a regular basis, at the expense of his manga career which consumes him.  So much comes out of this discussion, such as the freedom for one to chose their own path in life, the sacrifices people must make to succeed, the role of a standard education in ensuring one’s success in the future, the difficultly of getting one’s foot in the door in the first place and, thus, the importance of keeping it there.  In this conversation, Kei displays an intense care and worry for Hirono, but Miyako demonstrates an understanding of him, something Kei lacks in her endeavour to get him back on the straight-and-narrow.

One of my personal favourite themes of abandonment and loneliness is explored through Miyako’s character, brilliantly so in episode 7.  The sequence is amazing, and rife with symbolism… some of it heavy-handed, but it’s inline with the show’s generally melodramatic style, which is executed so well that there’s very little the show can’t get away with… the smashing plates (I love the frame they chose to end this sequence on, it shows the hand of an incredibly deft director), the “vanishing sound” and “vanishing colour”, the halting hourglass.  It’s all so morbid and melancholic and sets the dramatic tone for what comes next.  And what a scene that was.  Arguable the most unforgettable scene of the anime, the messages weren’t just intense and unsettling, it was as raw and open an examination of an anime character I’ve seen… certainly in this genre.

Not to exclude the other subplot in this show surrounding Chihiro and Renji’s romance, which was also filled to the brim with a serious take on a lot of interesting ideas.  I always thought that the love triangle had the better build-up, but Chihiro and Renji had the better resolution.  Certainly, one of the most dramatic moments comes at the end of episode 8 where Renji witnesses Chihiro have a “reset”.  There are two ideas at the core of these events, one regarding the emotional burden to being a carer for a disabled person and the other, a little more deeper, about how much memories define and influence an existence.  It’s pointed out earlier on several times that Chihiro is a different person every day, something which Renji has noticed by now.  The book, another major part of this particular subplot comes to a fore as the series goes along, and while the story is used as a metaphor for Chihiro (one that I admittedly still don’t completely have my head around), it’s used to bring up a couple more themes about what one does with themselves after completing a life goal, particularly if they have a crippling disability which limits just what more they can do with their life.

It’s rare to find an out-and-out detractor of the anime (maybe I’m not looking hard enough), but some of the more tempered reviews of ef point to a few cliches.  But I can’t see why that’s a reason to be apprehensive about recommending ef, even to people who aren’t “fans of the genre” (whatever the hell that means… I hate this idea that people limit themselves to certain genres and it’s something I’ll almost certainly be bringing up in this blog in the future), when there’s so much in the show which is thought-provoking and convention-defying.  This is the sort of anime that puts to bed the idea that anime can’t execute good melodramas, and show that the romance visual novel conversion genre is more than able to explore a plethora of themes and ideas and do every one of them justice.  Maybe it’s a rare anime in that sense, but that’s exactly why it shouldn’t be passed up.  Needless to say, I can’t wait for the upcoming prequel.