Shameful Otaku Secret!

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.

Come out from that rock

If you haven’t heard about it by now, you’re living under a larger rock than me.

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya is one of the most popular animes in recent years, and rightly so, it’s an absolute blast. It does give a nagging feeling that if you’re getting the joke, the joke might just be on you. But it’s a fun joke.

Story

In this series, ostensibly a high school comedy, Kyon is a bored slacker who maligns the day he truly acknowledged to himself that aliens, superheroes, and anime robot pilots weren’t real. On his first day of high school, he winds up sitting in front of Haruhi Suzumiya, a hottie in everyone’s eyes — and perhaps the world’s youngest iconoclast. She announces boldly to the class that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with anyone who isn’t an alien, time traveler, or esper. Soon he somehow finds himself the first member of her new club, the “SOS Brigade.”

Of course, not all is as it seems, and the four members of the SOS Brigade turn out to be more than just dead-on anime stereotypes: There’s Yuki, the always-reading blue-haired Rei Ayanami fill-in (an android built by alien intelligence), Koizumi, the mysterious transfer student (an esper), and the older and bustier Mikuru, doomed to a teary-eyed life of fulfilling Haruhi’s moe fantasies in humiliating cosplay outfits and psychologically scarring situations (a time traveler). And they’re all there for one reason: Haruhi. In fact, she made it happen, although she knows none of it. Through it all, Kyon wants to know — why him?

It’s a great story, and one that was originally told on TV in an unconventional way. The episodes were shown out of order, with the “next episode” previews featuring Kyon and Haruhi arguing over what comes next. The American release DVDs, however, play everything in chronological order. This is a mixed bag: the story makes more sense, but the manic feel is somewhat muted and things fall a little short after climactic episode 6. I watched it both ways, and I’d have to say the mix-up is less gimmicky than I thought it’d be. In fact, I’d even recommend watching it “out of order” initially. Both are a unique experience, and the show holds up well to re-watching, so give it a shot.

Characters

But it’s not the story as much as the characters that make this such a lovable blast. The support characters are fun, but admittedly they mostly fill their roles as archetype parodies. Haruhi herself is the star, of course, and the first of her kind that I can think of: she’s aggressive, domineering, severely ADHD, occasionally violent and openly perverted. But unlike other strong/loud female anime characters, she’s smart, good at everything, not overcompensating, and totally sane. She’s just the most bored person alive. And she’s not only somewhat believable, she’s charming.

Kyon drives the show, hilarious with his sarcastic running voice-over commentary. In a great inversion of a lazy animator technique, his mouth is often hidden for some key barbs, so you can’t be sure whether he’s narrating or actually speaking. He compares himself to Sisyphus as he fills the self-described role of the conscience of the SOS.

Animation

Kyoto Animation is the studio responsible for the unholy trinity of Key galges-come-to-TV dramas (Air, Kanon, Clannad), as well as Fullmetal Panic! The Second Raid. Their quality of animation and character design is probably second only to the giant robot studios like Bones, and apparently no one told them that comedy animation is supposed to suck. Just as with her writing, Haruhi’s character design has something unique. Her body language, perhaps — or maybe just her eyebrows. Kyon’s facial expressions are subtle and convey plenty even when he’s not narrating. Unnecessary details like the ruffle on a shirt blowing in the breeze, or Hard Gay Razor Ramon appearing in the halls of the school crank up the replay value.

It’s hard to talk about the animation without mentioning one of the show’s most talked-about scenes, where Yuki and Haruhi sub in an all-girl rock band. It’s a bit of a technical wank-fest, with the Kyoto crew apparently realizing they were under budget and going all-out for two songs (switch the audio to Japanese here and you won’t be sorry): the drum fills look like they sound, Yuki’s guitar solo looks real, and Haruhi not only sweats in beads but actually spits when she sings the appropriate consonants. It’s impressive.

You’ll see fan service, but I can almost guarantee you it’s not what you’ll expect, and just as many times there’s a conceal-the-fanservice joke that even Pani Poni Dash! would be proud of.

Dub

This was a much-anticipated release, due to its huge popularity in Japan, so the English dub is loaded with a who’s-who of voice actors. Some say she’s too monotone, but I loved Michelle Ruff (Bleach, Lupin III) doing a great Rei Ayanami impression for Yuki, especially in the DVD’s hilariously deadpan “next episode” previews (”I love it”). Stephanie Sheh (Eureka of Eureka 7) is glass-shatteringly squeaky as Mikuru — if you find her annoyingly cute, you’re missing the point. Wendee Lee (best known to me as Cowboy Bebop’s Faye) does a capable turn as Haruhi, but seems to ease her way into the role so you may not be convinced at first.

Crispin Freeman (Eureka 7’s Holland, Every Anime Dub Ever) is the real star of the dub, always underplaying his sarcasm and tempering everything with a core of sincerity and likability. And the show’s only real romantic moment is delivered unconventionally and fantastically.

Listening in Japanese is entertaining enough, but this is one of those few shows that I just have to vote for the dub, again mostly because of Crispin Freeman.

Music & Credits

The opening and closing music is fairly standard-fare J-Pop stuff about farting rainbows or hugging pandas or something, but it doesn’t annoy me. The incidental music is varied enough and keeps the energy up. The climactic sixth episode uses great space opera type stuff to give it an awesomely epic feel.

The closing animation is actually one of the show’s selling points. The characters all do a goofy dance, and though they’re in sync, their personalities all come through. Some stills and pans fill things out, but overall it’s the best piece of original animation for a closer I’ve ever seen.

Episode Highlights

Episode Zero, shown first on both TV and the DVD, is a hilariously bad film (”The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina”) made by the SOS Brigade. It’s an unconventional episode not just because of the format, but because Haruhi, the film’s director, barely appears in the first episode of her own show. It’s brilliantly funny, but be warned: it’ll taint almost every subsequent anime viewing experience you have. Every time a writer “throws those moe situations at you,” every time a scene ends by panning up to the sky, every time you’re forced to begin a series by just accepting some elements of its plot… you’ll think of Haruhi. Episode Zero gains layers of meaning beyond the straight laughs as the series goes on, proof of just how well-written this show is.

Verdict

The bottom line here is fun — parodic, ironic, but sweet and totally non-cynical fun. Yes, it’s fun for people who know a little something about anime already, but that’s not to say newbs won’t enjoy it. You will get more out of it if you’re spotting more stuff, but it’s not like say, Project A-KO which requires an encyclopedia (and flew right the hell over my head).

Series two is apparently coming, but Kyoto is frustratingly making us wait until Fall while they finish slinging buckets of moe and tears around with the second half of Clannad.