Welcome to the N.H.K.
That warm, fuzzy feeling of self-loathing
Welcome to the NHK is, in fact, really good, I’ll just put that out there now. But it’s not exactly the kind of thing one should start with if one was an aspiring otaku. In fact, it might make you run screaming from anime without a backward glance thanks primarily to the fact that it mercilessly indicts its own viewers.
Story
Tatsuhiro Satou is a hikikomori, essentially a college dropout shut-in with declining social skills, no job, poor health, worse habits, and a tendency to lose himself in paranoid delusions. He does little with his days other than eating take-out, masturbating, and sleeping 16 hours. He’s become convinced that his lifestyle is not his choice, rather he’s the victim of a conspiracy called the “N.H.K.” Leading the charge in convincing Satou of his plight: his talking household appliances (from what I understand, LSD usage figured into the manga but that’s not present here).
His next door neighbor Yamazaki is a former underclassman who’s a full-blown otaku obsessed with bishoujo, hentai, dirty video games, the works. His only female companions (and only other companions at all) are his suicidal former high school club leader to whom he may have lost his virginity back in the day, and Misaki, a younger girl who stalks him and tries to convince him to join her “hikikomori recovery plan.”
Along the way to his supposed recovery (triggered by his lying to Misaki to hide what he is), Satou finds himself taking every possible misstep: Episodes find him embroiled in internet porn, online RPG addiction, the creation of adult games, underage upskirt photography, a pyramid scheme, and a suicide club. Among others. These crazed situations form the basis for the comedy of NHK, and if it didn’t sound like a comedy until I said that, you shouldn’t be surprised. This is what people mean when they say black humor.
Characters
NHK is an anomaly in anime or anything else in that Satou is absolutely unlovable. He does the wrong thing in pretty much any given situation, and he shows no real desire to actually reform outside of a few moments of genuine lucidity born out of fear. So is there any reason to identify with him except out of fear yourself? After all, Satou represents the viewer. This is a show based almost entirely around biting the hand that feeds.
Strangely, Misaki’s reasons for trying to fix Satou might be romantically motivated — although it’s very revealing that she not only takes care of stray cats, but seems to have more than a few fucked-up things going on in her head.
These characters are what it’s all about, even though they all seem to have a dearth of redeeming qualities. It’s amazing, simply for the fact that I’ve never seen a show with such a pile of unlikable people at its center.
Design & Animation
In a word, kind of inconsistent. There’s nothing remarkable about the best parts, and the worst are pretty cheap-looking. Gonzo should have been able to do better, but oh well. Frankly, I didn’t find that it detracted too much.
The character designs are mostly intentionally unappealing, except for the pathetically cute Misaki. Emphasis on pathetic — at one point she attempts to be “moe” and winds up more pathetic than ever, so she’s an anomaly in a different way: a super-cute female character who’s simply pitiable rather than adorable. Hallucinations are the most fun part of the animation, centering on little half-adult/half-child creatures and Satou’s demonic refrigerator.
Music & Credits
The opening song is a pleasantly catchy slice of J-Pop — no sunshiny stuff, it’s actually something about figuring out a puzzle and evokes Misaki more than anything. But the closer of season one is really awesome; in fact, I’ve never seen anything as crazed and manic. The hallucinations dance cruelly around to some spastic hard rock lamenting our inability to stay lovable babies forever. It has to be seen to be believed, so I’m posting it from YouTube here.
The second season switches to a more standard female-vocal, melancholy tune, but I suppose it’s appropriate considering the show takes a depressing turn that’s shorter on laughs and plays up the whole train-wreck effect.
Bottom Line
Welcome to the NHK is not for the faint of heart, but it might be harsh medicine for anyone who wants to clear themselves of an anime, manga, or other otaku fixation. I was consistently amazed through the whole show how the writers could keep mercilessly ramming a rusty spoon through the hearts of their own viewers. It’s bold, it’s different in so many ways, and it’s colored my experience with every other anime I’ve seen since. If you’re not big into anime already, you may want to hold off though, or some of the impact may be lost. But it’s a monster you won’t soon forget.
Just an amazingly good show. The ending was probably one of the best I’ve ever seen. If I had to make a comparison (which I do) I would call it a modern, Japanese Catcher in the Rye, except the main character is just terrible instead of being a whiny sophist. It follows a similar format anyways: peek in on a short slice of a character’s life, then disappear. There’s no real satisfying conclusion or epilogue to give you the warm fuzzies (see: Eureka Seven), and even though it’s maddening, that last line is just so classy, I can’t be mad.
“Rusty spoons at the hearts of the viewers”
Yes, this — though I’m affirming this from the experience of the novel, where I’m right smack in the middle of. Will say more when I’m done.
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