I suppose that given that 99% of anime is supposed to be watched by teenagers, it’s only fitting that there’s an awful lot of anime that’s based in and around schools. Some of it’s good, some of it’s terrible and there are a few that have become what might be described as well-loved classics – both in Japan and the rest of the anime-watching world – especially those that aren’t afraid to break the mold. Whereas most high school-based series tend to revolve around one or more of the kids having supreme fighting or magical skills (ho-hum), there are a few that aren’t afraid to either poke fun at the genre, or society in general, or even take a deeper look at what it means to be a teenager and the challenges that come with it. It’s these series (well, those that it’s been my pleasure – and occasional misfortune – to watch) that I’m going to blather on about in this post.
(I should also mention that the spurious and – thus far – unfounded allegations that I have a seifuku fetish have nothing to with it… and the fact that the only spoken Japanese I know is “Hello, how are you? My goodness, that’s a nice seifuku you’re wearing,” is just a horrible coincidence.)
I’ve also realised whilst writing this, that many of series are worthy of a blog posting on their own (memo to self: update to-do list), but I’ll try and do them justice in the few paragraphs I’m devoting to each here. I should also mention they aren’t listed in any particular order. So, without further ado, let’s go back to school…
Azumanga Daioh (あずまんが大王)
Probably one of the best-loved anime and manga series around, Azumanga Daioh (the name is a portmanteau of the author’s name (Azuma) and ‘manga’, plus “Daioh”, taken partly from the name of the magazine in which it was originally published) is a slice-of-life comedy, covering the lives and antics of a group of girls during their 3 years of high school.
We follow the lives of six girls – the tall, quiet Sakaki (who despite her imposing appearance and reticence has a soft spot a mile wide, especially for cats – which isn’t, alas, reciprocated); the child-genius Chiyo-chan (who has to adapt to life surrounded by people much older than her); spaced-out Ayumu (immediately nicknamed ‘Osaka’, because of her hometown); Kagura, the school sports hero, who perceives Sakaki as her rival; the boisterous and reckless Tomo, and her long-suffering best friend Koyomi, whose hair-trigger temper isn’t helped by being around said Tomo.
Despite being a comedy, the skits (in keeping with its roots in a 4koma manga, the series was originally broadcast in 5 minute episodes during the week, and a longer omnibus over the weekend) are kept fairly realistic, with only occasional lapses into full-blown silliness and fantasy – for example, when we get an insight into whatever is going on in Osaka’s rather woolly imagination (although she does occasionally come up with fascinating insights, like Santa Claus’ cruelty to Rudolph), or the episode that focused on the girls’ New Year dreams. That realism is really the strength of the series and Azumanga Daioh has even been described as “an educational window into what Japanese school-life is like.” http://www.blogsurfer.us/
Although there is a certain repetitiveness to the stories, as we watch three years’ of athletics and cultural festivals, exams and holiday trips to Chiyo-chan’s beach house, the variety in each, as the characters grow and the interactions between them develop, ensures that the set-ups remain original and very funny. A good example of this is Yukari-sensei’s (lack of) driving skills. The second time her battered car rattles into view, we already know she can’t drive, but it’s Chiyo-chan’s reaction to seeing it (having been in the car first time round) and poor unsuspecting Kaorin’s reaction (when what she thought would be time well spent with Sakaki turned into the vehicular equivalent of a roller-coaster ride) that makes this repeat scene funny all over again.
When you add in the well-developed characters of both the main players and supporting cast, including the slightly odd homeroom teacher, Yukari-sensei (who goes down in history for telling the class not to bully Chiyo-chan “just because she’s a brat who can study”), and the delightful Kaorin (who provides plenty of chuckles on her own with her infatuation with Sakaki and attempts to escape the clutches of the lecherous lolicon, Kimura-sensei) you have the makings of a very successful comedy.
The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya
(涼宮ハルヒの憂鬱)
This is one of those series that probably deserves a blog post on its own, and probably has already launched a thousand other blogs across the ‘net. If ever an anime series deserved the handle ‘phenomenon’, it’s this little gem. Take a combination of a series (10 volumes and counting) of cleverly written, cerebral light novels, add an animation studio that does sterling service in converting said wordy novels into pictures and a heroine that embodies the inner child within all of us, and how could this series not succeed?
Given the series’ name, it doesn’t take a great amount of deduction to realise that the story revolves around Haruhi, a girl who isn’t interested in people, unless they’re an alien, a time-traveler or an ESPer. The somewhat world-weary hero of the tale, Kyon, recounts in the introduction that children have a limitless imaginative viewpoint of the world, which could easily include time-travelers and aliens, but as we grow, we learn the limits and rules that govern our world and our growing common sense suppresses our imaginations. Haruhi, however, gives such notions a swift and hard kick in the trousers.
Where the beauty of the tale lies, however, is that she is indeed surrounded by time-travelers, aliens and ESPers, whose sole purpose in life is essentially to keep Haruhi entertained… or she could end up unconsciously altering reality. The interaction between Haruhi, Kyon and the entities (Haruhi being kept oblivious to, whilst Kyon is uncomfortably aware of, their presence) makes for one of the best told comedies to grace our screens in a long time.
Haruhi has a delightful single-mindedness when it comes to achieving her goals, from blackmailing the PC club, to dressing up as a bunny girl to promote her own club – the SOS Brigade. The somewhat dour and cynical Kyon is the perfect foil to her, playing the straight man through all the chaos – yet, as much as he disapproves, being human, he is attracted to – and carried along by – her magnetism.
The studio pulled out every trick in the book with this series, from having Haruhi’s seiyuu sing the show’s songs (listening to – ok, and watching – Haruhi belt out ‘God Knows’ in a bunny suit, accompanied by Nagato must rank as one of the all-time great anime moments), to broadcasting the show in what seems like random order (however, I thoroughly recommend watching the series in chronological order; it’s easier on the brain), to an opening episode, which was in its entirety a cheap home-made (anime) video. This master stroke, caught those who tuned in not knowing what to expect, totally off-guard. With interest amongst otaku at fever-pitch by the time episode 2 rolled around, they then broadcast what is generally seen as one of the best episodes in anime history to date (but don’t quote me on that)… and reeled the masses in – hook, line and Haruhi.
It’s a fantastic, humourous, clever romp that resonates with our own almost-forgotten imaginings and the world (or at least that part of it that cares) is waiting with bated breath for the sequel.
Hidamari Sketch (ひだまりスケツチ )
Another spin-off of a 4koma manga, this witty, somewhat quirky and visually innovative slice-of-life series revolves around the friendship between four girls attending an arts high school. Each self-contained (although past events are referred to later) episode highlights a day in their lives – from dealing with school life (and the ditzy, exhibitionist art teacher Yoshinoya) to hanging out together at home – which is made easier, as they all live in the Hidamari (lit. Sunshine) Apartment block, just off campus.
That’s one of the things that makes this series stand out from its peers – it’s not so much about making friends (that’s already happened by the time the first episode starts) but about the fun of being friends. They are also four very distinct personalities, and it’s the way these four click that makes the story work so well. We have the tiny, gentle, sweet and somewhat timid Yuno, away from home for the first time and still finding her way in this new world. In stark contrast is her classmate and fellow freshman, Miyako, who explodes with almost childlike enthusiasm and energy – she claims the word ‘plan’ does not exist in her vocabulary.
Of the two seniors, Sae is the more serious. Already working as a professional author, she attends the school in order to learn how to illustrate her own tales. Tall and sporty (although she does take great offense when Miyako calls her ‘masculine’) she’s probably the most mature of the girls, although she has a mischievous and cunning side too, resulting in her playing slightly cruel tricks on Yuno in particular. However, any question relating to her love life results in her becoming very flustered and making up bizarre stories, whilst blushing furiously. Hiro, who is Sae’s childhood friend, is quiet and supportive – both of Sae (bringing her food, when the latter locks herself away to meet a publishing deadline) and the two juniors. Her efforts are, however, somewhat thwarted by her own obsession with her weight, leading to frequent diets, which are soon foiled by binging on sweet things.
There’s also been some online debate about just what the relationship between Sae and Hiro actually is. There are occasional hints that it might be more than just friendship, but it’s really left open for you to decide and personally, I just think they’re very fond of each other. Besides, if you believed any of what goes on in high school anime, you’d think Japanese schoolgirls were jumping each other left, right and center…
Strangely (or maybe not) as far as cast goes, it’s essentially just the four girls. Yoshinoya-sensei normally makes at least one scene-stealing appearance an episode, and we occasionally see the Headmaster (who has an interesting case of the shakes). Outside of a couple of brief appearances by Hidamari’s landlady, Sae’s little sister, Chika, and Natsume, Sae’s school rival, no other characters are introduced. One might think this could make the series repetitive or boring, but there’s enough magic and intelligence woven into the writing (including puns galore – I’m still convinced that Sae’s pseudonym of Tachibana Aya, is an in-joke that I’ve haven’t caught yet), characters and imagery to make each episode not only a bundle of fun, but one that you can easily go back and revisit time and time again.
Finally, just to show that you learn something new everyday, my research (i.e. staring blankly at the screen, waiting for a page to load) tells me that although the episodes are self-contained there is actually a specific sequence to the story (given away – now that I think about it – by the date flashed up at the end of each episode), so if you want to watch it in actual chronological order, then look at episodes 10, 5, 3, 2, 11, 4, 7, 12, 6, 8, 1 and 9. Goody! Now I have another excuse to go back and watch this all over again!
Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight
(がくえんゆとぴあ まなびストレト )
I know; it’s a strange name for what is ultimately a delightful series and I’m going to close off this particular segment by rambling on about what must be one of the all-round nicest shows to come out in the last year or so. At first glance, Manabi Straight looks like any other of the legion of high school romps that are out there. There’s even the usual cast of character stereotypes – the timid little hamster, the tomboyish jock, the swot, the geek and the ever-present Student Council President. However, there is an unending and irrepressible energy (I’m going to use the Japanese work “genki (元気)” here, because it fits the bill so much better) and spirit of optimism that flows through each episode, which makes them an endearing pleasure to watch. Don’t be put off by the hyper-cute cherubic (or should that be chubby?) character design either – this series has some of the best graphics and animation I’ve seen in a while. Yes, the cuteness is going to rot your teeth in your head as you watch this, but you’ll love it as it does so.
Something else that sets it apart from similar series in the genre is the basic premise behind the show. It kicks off in the year 2035 (but don’t expect a sci-fi spectacular – apart from nifty-looking computers and Manabi’s air-scooter {WANT!} it could just as easily be set in the present day) and extrapolates on the already known fact of Japan’s declining birth-rate. By the time we join the story, it has reached such proportions that schools are closing down, the exam wars have reached an end and many children opt to not even attend high school, but obtain their education directly in the workplace. This has left the remaining schools understaffed, under-funded, and half-empty, with a resulting lack of moral and school spirit. Another significant difference to this series’ peers is that here the teachers are sensible and supportive and almost play the straight man to the students’ antics, as opposed to the norm of teachers being variously insane, inept, or creepy.
Getting back on track, the tale is based in Seioh Academy (that’s the Gakuen part), which has 80-odd years of tradition behind it and is struggling to face up to reality. Here we meet timid Mikan-chan, who’s a bit of a crybaby and who also happens to be the Student Council Secretary. Actually, she’s the only Student Council member, having been left in the lurch by the previous President. She tries her best to keep it running, but lack of interest from the students and her own meek personality aren’t helping matters. Luckily, she has as a friend the school jock and wannabe softball star, Mucchii, to support and lend her a shoulder to cry on. They’re classmates with Mei, who is studious, bossy and aloof – a façade that hides the fact that she’s desperate to make friends but is scared to, because of events in elementary school. Hanging around with them is Momo, who despite appearing to be a bit of a bubblehead, is the resident geek, and also runs the school newspaper.
Into all this steps (or rather flies) the new transfer student, Manabi, with her motto, “Massugu Go! (Go! Straight Ahead!)”, who has the kind of genki you wish you could bottle and sell. She immediately manages to get herself elected Student Council President (which does sound improbable, I know, until you see how she goes about it) and here another stereotype goes out the window. Most other SCP’s are either bitches, nerds, sticklers for rules, teacher’s pets, psychotic, or various combinations thereof. Manabi is simply, in a word, adorable (if a little tiring). Her boundless, infectious energy, optimism and bubbly personality soon begins to influence Mikan & Co and thus the bonds of friendship are formed and strengthened. At the same time, she almost subconsciously begins to rally and motivate the rest of the school, first as they plan for the upcoming science fair and then later as the threat of closure looms over Seioh. In between all this, there are some sublime comedy moments – the sleep-deprivation-induced mania, Mikan’s obsession with the “little people,” Manabi’s brush with mumps and tidying up the Student Council office are but a few of many scenes that come to mind.
There are some sentimental moments too (I’m such a sucker for those), best illustrated (if you’ll bear with me) by Manabi’s monologue as she explains why she’s trying to get through Mei’s brusque exterior, “I always wonder why Mei-chan is attending school. She’s good at everything she does and there’s plenty of ways to earn a living these days even if you drop out of school. I think Mei-chan is attending school in search of something – I don’t know what, but it’s not just studying. I mean, she helped us out, when nobody else was interested in the Student Council. I want to become her friend; I want to eat lunch with her; have fun and worries with her; spend time with her – I want to spend these three precious years with Mei-chan. Then, someday I can ask her, ‘Have you found what you were looking for?’ I want to be her friend, so I can hear her answer.” (Not a dry eye in the house by this point…)
Calling it a triumph of the spirit might be a bit too much, but watching Mikan, who couldn’t say boo to a mouse at the start, venture out into the world alone at the end, gives a pretty good indication of just how far they’ve all come.
There’s so many messages coming through from this series – making and building friendships (the slogan for their science fair sums it up nicely – From Friends to Buddies) and having fun doing so; personal development and belief in yourself; fighting for what you believe in; the power of positive thinking – the list can go on. For anybody who’s been to a school that they still think of fondly (or like me, one with over a centuries’ worth of history), or who remembers that rush of school spirit, there’s not only a distinct resonance with this series, but there’s very definitely a character there that they’ll identify with. Sadly, I think I’m Mikan…
