School Daze – The Comedies (Part 3)

Right, time to haul out the mop and dust this blog off again (er… well, you know what I mean). I know I’ve been an absent landlord lately, but luckily, I have been building up a list of things to write about, even though 2009 hasn’t been the best year for new series. Still, hopefully those who read me (hi, Mum!) are still around. To make up for lost time, this is probably going to be a long post.

So with that said, let me venture forth back into semi-familiar territory – the classroom. Or should that be the clubroom?

Sketchbook ~ Full Color’s ~ (スクッチブック ~Full Color’S~ )

We’ll kick off with one of the gentler comedies to come out in the last two years. Please bear in mind that “gentle” does not mean “not funny,” it’s just that it’s not in your face. Rather, much of the humour lies in what they say, rather than what they do (and for which I am eternally grateful for the skills of the subbers). This is more evident in the pun-intensive 4koma manga the series is based on. Sadly, many of these puns are virtually untranslatable, which means much of the humour in the manga is lost. Fortunately, this is toned down in the anime, which makes the humour far more accessible. It also scores from being from the same stable as the wonderful “Aria” series and has inherited much of the same easy-going feel from that gentle tale of Martian gondoliers (so much so, in fact, that Aria-Syatyou makes a sneaky guest appearance early on in the show). http://www.blogsurfer.us/

Sketchbook revolves around the members of a school’s arts club, in particular our four heroines (with a few exceptions, four appears to be the magic number in this kind of show). Foremost amongst these is Sora Kajiwara, who is aptly named because she is a dreamer, with her head almost permanently in the clouds. It’s not so much that she’s a dreamer, it’s just that she really seems to have a very vivid imagination and over-thinks things and then drifts off into her thoughts. A good example of the way she thinks can be seen in her reasoning when confronted by a black cat.

“People say,” she thinks to herself, “that when you see a black cat, you’re supposed to take three steps backwards. However, if you do that, then you won’t be able to stroke it.” And thinking thus, she gives centuries of superstition a kick in the trousers and goes on to pet said cat. Actually cats – far from being the evil, hand-chomping beasts of Azumanga Daioh – play their own important role in Sketchbook. We are often privy to the cat-conversations of Mika, Ha-san and Kuma-san (who calls himself by the archaic and arrogant “Wagahai”), which provides an extra layer of fun on the proceedings.

Sora is also terminally shy, to the point of having her name written in her ever-present sketchbook to show strangers (accompanied by much nervous trembling), rather than have to talk to them. That also forms the thread that binds the series together, as Sora – with the help of her friends and club-mates – gradually learns to deal with the world and gradually emerges from her cocoon… just I time for the final credits, of course.

So what of the friends? Sora’s immediate circle of friends is made up of Natsume Asou, who is by far the most outgoing of the quartet. She’s the boisterous one, always the first with an opinion, or to rush headfirst into a situation. She also uses home-made puppets to do much of her communication.  Hazuki Torikai is calm and level headed. She lives alone and on quite a tight budget, although her life seems to be tormented by finding things she bought for ￥200 the day before, are now on sale for ￥100. She also spends much of her time having to deal with Sora’s thought patterns, or Natsume’s actions.

Then there’s Kate. She’s an exchange student from Canada, who can speak Japanese (albeit with an almost unintelligible accent) an who claims she knows how to write kanji. The problem is, she thinks everything can be written in kanji, hence the confusion when she writes her name. Instead of the katakana ケイト (Keito), she writes the kanji 毛糸, which is also keito, but means “knitting wool.” She’s cheerful and happy… and very gullible, as she tends to respond to anything she gets told with an accepting, “Sou desu ka?!” She also serves to illustrate the difficulties of learning Japanese, such as the time she complains about having to learn katakana. The kana for “petrol” (gasorin) is ガソリン. “The last three characters all look the same,” she complains.

Added to all of this are their assorted senpai of the art club – all of whom stand out with their own little quirks and distinct personalities. Ujo Sugyo is the very serious and studious club president, and judging by his permanently creased brow and world-weary expression, he’s had to put up with the antics of the club members for far too long. Asaka Kamiya is creative… and not much else; her brain seems to dance to a differnt tune, beat, instument and planet to everybody else. Little Kokage Kuga always makes me think of the class Goth (it’s probably her hair and the fact that the first time we see her, she’s painting “Night” – yup, a totally black canvass.) She also has the habit of sticking her head through the curtains and pretending to be a lift (I know – it sounds odd, yet, scarily, it’s something I remember doing way back when!). Hiyori Kasugano loves nature (especially bugs) and wants to run a reserve one day. She’s best friends with the reserved and quiet (but musical) Juju Sasaki. Lastly, there’s the short-tempered and noisy Daichi Negishi. All of the characters provide the perfect backdrop for our four heroines, blending perfectly into the story.

There’s also the two insane (well I think so) senpai, Fuu and Ryou, whose basic role is to pop up as a link, make some really obscure comments and disappear again. They do get their moment to shine in the spotlight, when called in to fix Hazuki’s radio… which they do by performing an exorcism! We’re also not let down in the “inane anime teacher” department. The club’s advisor, Kurihara-sensei, walks around with a pet chicken, called Pi-chan. This poor creature (the chicken, not the teacher) has to endure such torments as its owner saying, “You look good enough to eat!”

Besides Sora, story-wise there isn’t really an underlying plot. The characters just do… stuff. Sora and Kasugano spend a day walking through the fields sketching stuff, they have club outing… at the school (and if you don’t like cockroaches, this episode will traumatise you for life!), the girls attend a festival, or ask their senpai for their study tips 9with interesting results) etc, etc. It’s really just a slow, quiet, slice-of-life show (with some really nice laid-back music to go with it), that offers some good laughs and a perfect way to unwind at the end of a busy day.

K-On! ( けいおん!)

K-ON! (けいおん!)

The title of this delightful little comedy comes from the Japanese for “light music” (軽音楽 keionga) and that’s exactly what it’s about – the members of an all-girls’ school’s light music club. Yes, it might sound a bit trite, but I was sold the minute Detroit Metal City’s Krauser II made an unscheduled guest appearance – that’s when I had a feeling there was something special lurking here.

I call it delightful for two reasons, firstly it is seriously funny and secondly, it’s as cute as hell (and I’m such a sucker for cute). Don’t let yourself be put off by the moe though, as a comedy, K-On stands head and shoulders above everything else this season. It’s not all laugh-a-minute stuff, but there’s been plenty of punchlines that have had me laughing out loud – and that doesn’t happen often. Being the product of a 4koma seinen manga means that the underlying comedy isn’t wildly silly, nor does it rely on cheap fanservice for laughs. Ok… the one exception might be Ritsu and Yui’s reaction to Mio’s *ahem* somewhat better development in the chest area, shown during the obligatory beach episode.

What K-On also does well, besides immediately introducing us to a cast of immensely likeable characters, is break with the usual plot device. It’s not about somebody lacking talent trying to break into the music club, but rather the members of the music club wanting to keep the talentless one around, in order to keep the club going. This is done with copious amounts of tea and cake… something the club spends more time eating than actual practising. Hence the band’s name – “After School Teatime.”

Obviously, the story revolves around the initial four band members. Heading up the pack is Yui Hirasawa. Our introduction to Yui involves her slipping and landing on her backside and the viewer pretty much gets the picture that she’s spent most of her young life falling, or sitting, on said backside. She’s sort of drifted through life, with no direction and only ends up joining the club, because her level-headed friend, Nodaka, half-jokingly suggests that people who don’t join clubs become NEETs later in life. Luckily, it turns out she’s a bit of an idiot savant (as a friend described her) when it comes to the guitar, which although a very convenient plot device, is played for laughs, as she tends to forget things the minute she’s learnt something new. She’s also oblivious to things like tuning the guitar or playing vibrato… these things just happen naturally to her. As Mio describes her, “She’s the kind of person who plays games without reading the manual.”

The other band members comprise Ritsu Tainaka, the drummer, club leader and impetuous hothead, and Mio Akiyama, her long time friend, who plays the bass and generally tries to be the cool, calm and collected one amongst the general mayhem. The only problem is, she’s as flaky as the rest of them – she’s terribly shy (and goes to pieces at the mere thought of having to sing lead vocals, but manages to overcome this and step up to the plate… er… mike when required), cowers in terror at the mere hint of scary stuff (especially barnacles for some reason) and worries that she isn’t “cute.” Fortunately, the Internet in general… ok, and me… thinks she is. The interplay between these two, with Ritsu often sporting an impressive array of head lumps, as she tests Mio’s patience once too often, provides the comic links between scenes.

Making up the quartet is the keyboard player, Tsumugi Kotobuki (she of the incredible eyebrows). Sadly, her character doesn’t quite get the same treatment it does in the manga, and more often than not, she sort of fades into the background. You see, young Mugi-chan is a rich little princess, who seems to have lived a sheltered life (although she has had piano lessons since age 4, which makes her a natural for the club). Little things like trying to earn some spare cash to buy Yui’s guitar (the fact that her family owns the music store in question greatly simplifies matters) and eating at McDonald’s are all wonderful new adventures for her. However, whilst the anime portrays her as being uncomfortable about her wealth around her friends, the manga portrays her in a slightly different light. Here, she knows she’s the boss’ daughter and isn’t afraid to use that knowledge on cowering staff. After all, nobody said “cute” has to be “nice,” right? The manga also hints that Mugi-chan is slightly confused when it comes to relationships. Um… actually… scrap that last sentence. It seems it’s pretty clear which team Mugi bats for. Ah well, it’s all good in the end.

Just to throw in another useless piece of trivia, ANN tells me that all the character’s family names and the instruments they play, are taken from the members of a now defunct J-Pop group. So now you know.

K-On also does something odd in adding a new central character two-thirds of the way through. This is the intense little junior, Azusa, who signs up in their second year. Unlike Yui, Azusa knows her way around a guitar, but joins up thinking Yui is a genius, based on her performance at the opening ceremony. Despite soon learning the truth, and being horrified at the club’s “tea-and-cake” method of practising, she becomes the fifth member, deferring the role of lead guitar to Yui, to whom she still looks up, despite being a musical klutz (wonderfully illustrated here). Although the story probably could have carried on without her, her addition does make the double-edged point that there’s more to club life than just practising, whilst reminding the others that there is a time and place for everything.

Surrounding them is a small, but equally likeable, cast of side characters, headed up by Yui’s younger sister, Ui, who deserves a paragraph of her own. Now anime generally makes younger sisters adorable – just think of Clannad’s Mei-chan and Hidamari’s Chika-chan – but Ui-chan takes it to a whole new level. She plays the unwitting straight man to her flaky onee-chan, to great comic effect. It basically boils down to the fact that she hero-worships her older sister, can see only good in all Yui’s quirks (which hasn’t exactly motivated Yui to change) and will do anything for her (to the point of impersonating her at one stage)… something Yui takes full advantage of, probably without realising she is taking advantage. Strangely, given her lovely nature, the kanji for her name – 憂 – translates as “sorrow” or “unhappy” (then again, Yui’s – 唯 – translates as “only” or “solely”, so maybe her parents weren’t too thrilled when child number two popped out. Of course, given her lot in life and constant slaving after Yui, it’s quite possible Ui kicks little anime puppies around the garden when not on camera).

The club’s advisor, Sawako-sensei’s presence is a little jarring at times, what with her cosplay fetish and somewhat dodgy interest in the girls’ breasts. I know all anime teachers are supposed to be insane, but she’s just a little too over the top for my liking, given the general tone of the comedy. That said, her exposure, as the demon metal queen of a past keion, was fun. Nodaka-chan, Yui’s childhood friend and student council rep, pops up now and again, normally to play another straight man, or to provide some background on Yui, or to terrorise Ritsu, because of some or other form she hasn’t filled in.

If there’s one real jarring note to the whole series, it comes in the penultimate episode, when – for reasons known only to the writers – they try to inject some drama into the storyline. The problem is, as with most comedies, the characters aren’t developed enough for this to work and you’re left thinking, “Where the hell did that come from?” It’s even more out of place when you consider that K-On pokes deliberate fun at the “evil student council trying to close down the club” dramatic plot device early on.

Luckily, this aberration soon passes and we end not only on a comedic high note, but also with the knowledge that flighty, air-headed Yui is probably going to be ok. As she says to herself, “To the me back then, you don’t need to worry. You’ll soon find something you can do, something you can set your heart on…” Actually, her development is illustrated nicely towards the end, when we see her about to slip again, in almost identical circumstances to the opening scenes, but this time she stays on her feet.

The animation is well done, with surprising attention to little things. We see the scrape marks on wooden floors where doors open; the girls sweat (or should that be “glow”?) when performing; Yui struggles to climb on stage with a guitar bag swinging on her back.  Probably most importantly, they aren’t static while playing – fingers move on fretboards, cymbals to the cymbal thing, Mugi plays chords on her keyboard, etc, etc.; so it’s heartening to see that the animators didn’t try and cut costs there. They didn’t skimp on product placement either. Mugi has a Korg synthesiser, Ritsu plays a Yamaha drum kit, Azusa play a Fender Mustang and Yui’s axe is a Gibson Les Paul… which she bought, not because it’s a Les Paul (R.I.P. thank you for the music!), but because it was “cute” (yes, that’s how Yui’s mind works).

Even musically, the show isn’t bad… which is a good thing, seeing as music forms the backdrop of the whole story. Made-for-anime music can sometimes be dreadful, but K-On’s actually isn’t bad and that goes for the OP and ED (both of which were Top 5 hits on the Japanese charts, according to ANN) as well as the insert songs. It also helps that, as with most seiyuu, Aki Toyosaki and Youko Hikasa (who voice Yui and Mio respectively) can sing… although Aki does sound a little like a chipmunk on helium. You might need to ignore the lyrics which are decidedly cheesy (courtesy of Mio, who comes up with song titles such as “Curry after rice,” “My love is a stapler” and “Fluffy fluffy time”) but musically they’re not bad. Be warned – the OP, like a lot of anime music, is insanely addictive.

K-On would appear to be one the surprise hits of the current season, but given its characters, humour and music (not to mention the most prodigious use of giant sweat drops and head lumps I’ve seen in ages!), it’s hardly surprising. I somehow doubt this is going to be licensed, because of the musical content and royalty fees (God forbid they dub the songs!), so try and track it own online. Oh, and track down the manga too – you won’t be sorry.

As little Yui says at the end, “Keion daisuki!”… yes, we do too.

Hyakko ( ヒャッコ )

I wish I could write good things about all the shows I’m blogging this time round, but I suppose there must be an exception to the rule, and Hyakko would appear to be it. (Quick aside, this is the third high school comedy I’m looking at, and so far not a sailor suit in sight. A colleague did mention that they are being phased out in Japanese schools, in favour of blazers and ties, so maybe anime is catching up with this trend.)

I think the problem with Hyakko is that its underlying concept is not original. Having a bunch of disparate personalities come together as friends within the school environment has been done countless times (although none come close to the brilliance of Azumanga Daioh). Even the class full of dysfunctional (or maybe just odd, in this case) has been beaten to death in Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei.

That said, it doesn’t start badly. Our four protagonists – the timid and shy Ayumi; haughty and abrasive Tatsuki; impulsive Torako and the quiet Suzume actually form a pretty decent team. Then again, it’s the kind of pairing (or quadrupling if you like) that’s been seen in everything from Manabi Straight to Hidamari Sketch to Sketchbook and so forth. It’s a formula that works, so it gets trundled out again.

For the first four episodes the formula works well and there are some genuinely funny moments, most of which involve Tatsuki having to deal with the human typhoon that is Torako. Foremost amongst these has to be and the antics of the openly bi and predatory class president – who has her eye on the student council presidency, as well as Torako. Suzume’s complete unawareness of the havoc her performing an Y-balance pose (with one leg in the air) would cause on her co-ed art class is also worth a mention.

Sadly, the class president doesn’t get the screen time, or the development, her character needed to add some serious comedy to the whole affair. Likewise, the long-suffering homeroom teacher, Sengoku-sensei, has a couple of classic on-screen moments, usually involving Torako but these are, sadly, too few and far between. However, his portrayal of a world-weary teacher, who’s just realised his karma has caught up with him in the form of this flaxen-haired demon, is nicely done.

After the first four episodes, however, it all starts to fall apart. We are introduced to more of the oddball classmates, which is all well and fine, if you left them to do oddball things. The problem is, they all have issues, which Torako & Co try to resolve. It’s a bit like Clannad’s “introduce-a-broken-chick-and-then-fix-her” motif, but at least Clannad has the decency to put some flesh on the character’s bones, so we know who they are and what makes them tick, before breaking them. In Hyakko, the viewer just isn’t made to care enough about the superficial characters to introduce that kind of drama and make it work. It gets even worse, when additional characters are suddenly out of the blue, in order to resolve Torako’s arc. It ends up messy and feeling very contrived.

The soundtrack is also forgettable with a poor OP and an even worse ED. Aya Hirano, who I like as a seiyuu and who voices Ayumi, would appear have a pretty good deal, as she sings at least one song on whatever series she’s in. The problem is she obviously can’t choose what she sings and they tend to be generally bad and not at all suited for her voice. Maybe she should just stick to voice acting.

On the whole, Hyakko was a disappointment. It never really set out to do anything that hadn’t been done before. It suffers from what I call “not knowing what to do” syndrome – if it wanted to be a comedy, then it shouldn’t have introduced drama and if it wanted to be a drama then it needed to flesh out the characters far more than they were. There are far better comedies in this genre out there and you won’t really have missed anything if you don’t watch Hyakko.

<p class=”MsoNormal” style=”margin-left:18pt;text-align:center;” align=”center”><strong><span style=”font-size:14pt;”>Azumanga Daioh (</span></strong><strong><span style=”font-size:14pt;font-family:’MS Mincho’;”>あずまんが大王</span></strong><strong><span style=”font-size:14pt;”>)</span></strong></p>

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