Back to NaChiKyoTsuki97's Profile NaChiKyoTsuki97's Profile

Motifs of halves, invisible walls and the opening and closing of doors are peppered all over this classic Shinkai romantic-fantasy experience. It is becoming increasingly easy to view this film as ultimately a simple tale of emotional human connections that transcends space-time, but the way it frames it is a whole other story.

This film is drop-dead gorgeous. Ultimately, as a cinematic experience, little could be faulted: intriguing match cuts and repeated camera angles that's positioned low & directly halving the sliding door frame, signature Shinkai low angle pans that envelops the centred character in the midst of a vibrant multi-dimensional space, incredulous amount of attention ... given to dirtying the background details and giving the film a sense of idealised but grounded normality. And oh LORD the film's colour palettes and simulated lighting and shadows man...

The sound design steps up above anime norms with reverb, echo and textured audio deliveries and mixing, giving Your Name even more polish, while the music more than held its weight with strings and piano-heavy melodies that suffices as environment supplements.

As for the overall verdict...this is by far Shinkai's most thematically satisfying and funny feature films thus far, being able to time its both so charmingly Japanese anime sense of humour with well-utilised cutting that only invites more amusement. Although this viewer will have to voice a slight concern with the occasionally over-utilised 'toilet jokes' to deliver sexual innuendo-heavy comedy: tonally, it holds its own with the comedic elements; but clashes heavily with the drama-heavy main plot.

Your Name deserves its recognition. Matoko Shinkai's gloriously self-indulgent and aware efforts here pulls references and teases from almost every one of his previous projects, ultimately creating an experience that's 100% Shinkai. And it's pretty great.

(REALLY MINOR SPOILERS FOR EP12)

If you have a) any knowledge of moe and slice of life, b) a love for moe and slice of life, c) an intense hatred for moe and slice of life, or d) read enough of my posts to notice a common pattern in subject matters, then you would be aware of the basic recipe for success of such shows: the construction of a world that's charming and relaxing, and a cast of characters who are teeth-rottingly adorable. However, after 2 seasons of Is the order a rabbit? | Gochuumon wa Usagi Desu ka?, it has become apparent, that the show's ... charms extends far from the norm: the endearing atmosphere and the intimate closeness of the viewers' emotional investment with the characters onscreen, are the harvests grown from a well-soiled foundation of creative and thematic ideas that enrich such emotions of interconnectivity, similar to the communal sense of harmony felt by a well-knit village, where nothing ever goes wrong, has an abundance of cute wild rabbits but has no issues of desertification (probably a wrong use of terms, but you get the drift…rabbits ruin gardens), or the precious closeness between best friends, where the culprits includes a dead-pan loli who wears a rabbit on her head, whose body has her grandfather's spirit trapped inside, and a genki girl who has a sister complex (and is dead proud of it).

Ever since the debut of the hit series, Lucky Star, and the even bigger hit 2 years later, K-on!, the anime world has been engulfed in a surplus of such shows, where a group of cute girls laze around and engage in innocent activities, such as drinking tea, go on class trips and visiting spas. The simple premise of a plotless peek into the perfect lives of fictional characters has essentially established a new creative ground, where the rules of enjoyment are completely re-written. Instead of relying on the intense inner conflicts of a damaged main character, the political intrigues behind the intergalactic war's frontlines and the bitter backstories of characters for enjoyment, as you trudge deeper into the pessimistically predicted dystopia, the slice of life genre offers you an alternate utopia, where no conflicts exist. A truly great realisation of such a concept is a show that can somehow retain one foot within comprehensible reality, but also offer an experience that enrich the audience with a warm blanket of optimism, and an inspiring alternative viewpoints on the curiosities and hidden wanders that IS normal life, on Planet Earth. Why invade Mars, when you can have a treasure hunt, right here in your own town?

As a show with no arc-based or overarching plotlines, GochiUsa 2 consists of individual adventures embarked on by Cocoa, Chino and their friends, as they explore the streets of their town, enjoy the company of each other, whilst also learning to enrich themselves through the different personalities that exists within their group. What makes the entire experience irreplaceable, are the irreplaceably unique personalities of our main cast. Despite the inevitable fact, that each of them are moulded from the well-worn common tropes of anime characters, the personalities of our 4 main leads in particular, are polished to such an individualistic and interactive degree, that it's utterly impossible to associate these characters' voices, expressiveness and character 'signatures' with anyone else but them alone. In a combination of conservative but well-utilised character designs and a well-casted and scripted voice actors, the creators have invented a group of characters, that are individual people who are as unique as human beings themselves.

Cocoa's eternally happy, certainly, but her adorable charm stems from her ironically childish attempts to be grown-up and sisterly towards her juniors, resulting in the even more ironic fact, that Chino (though reluctantly at first), Maya and Megumi all admired Cocoa's childishness and her effortless ability to inject fun into every situation or place they are in. Cocoa's bubbly disposition and her addictive enthusiasm essentially provides the group dynamic with both a creatively comedic printing press, but also the heart of a child that always finds the best fun to be had. Other characters in the group: the gun-toting but self-conscious Rize, the bashful but criminally huggable Sharo and the mild-mannered but always scheming Chiya; all contribute admiringly to the main group, as each of them manages to inject a sense of multi-coloured diversity to the relational environment, which allows the show to be flexible in their depictions of character interactions.

But in the centre of it all, Chino's relationship with Cocoa is one of mutual misunderstanding, but eventual acceptance with a sense of affection that's akin to the closest of sisters. Expanding on the foundations of season 1, where Cocoa's quirky, clumsy but honest attempts to make Chino accept her as an older sister has found its mark on Chino's well-guarded heart, season 2 continues its thin but vivid thread of relational developments between these 2 girls. Cocoa's genki personality and her ability to befriend everyone and everything, stems not only from her personal motto; one that's optimistically admirable, but realistically suicidal; but also the viral nature of the lively energy that radiates from her presence, which the show depicts through both her actions and her friends' realisations, in regards to the impact Cocoa has on their group dynamic: time and schedules seemed to have lost their relevance and photos started to descend into that pit of absurdity and goofiness.

What made this 'Cocoa Effect' apparent are individual scenes throughout the season, but the episode 12's ending notes to this wonderful ballad successfully conveyed the preciousness of these girls' friendship and the central link that is Cocoa's sense of fun. The opening venture of Chino's attempt to capture the group 'in their natural element' was initially intended to be an album of incidental pictures of the girls working, conversing like normal human beings…but it didn't take long before Cocoa started a game of taking a picture of someone taking a picture of someone taking a picture of a rabbit above the portrait of a bodybuilder and started having fun with camera framing and perspective tricks. The scene's memorability stems from the individual gags that form a cohesive whole, as the show proceeds to solidify the character that IS this friend group.

Also admirable, is the episode's ability to inject an even more intimate sense of homeliness and nostalgic recognisability to the world of GochiUsa: the childhood memories of pretend-treasure hunts in the neighbourhood with nearby children are memories that are universally recognisable and closely etched into the most precious of childhood memories. The fact that all the characters within this group, who has lived in the town all their lives, remember their own rounds of treasure hunts with Ciste maps, adds an extra layer of communal interconnectivity to this town, as we are led to assume, that everyone in this community has experienced the same childhood. There's even a sense of exclusivity and a rite of passage: being of a young age. The chest found by Chino, Maya and Megumi was hidden beyond a child-sized hole in the stone wall, which hides a shrine-like platform, rightfully described by the trio as a place of sacred value, since Cocoa's unfortunately grown-up state prevented her from completing the challenge.

There's almost a sense of mystical lore-like comradery in completing a ciste map, whose significance is aided by the almost unwritten rules of the game: after finding a map lying around the town, drawn by the original initiators of the game, you use the map's clues to find a treasure chest. Your reward is whatever's inside the chest, however, as a sense of honour, you exchange the contents with something that you own, before hiding the treasure map somewhere else. And thus, the game continues.

Another observation from this game, also seems to suggest a lesson on the true value of treasures: the monetary value of the trio's find are next to nothing, but completing the challenge as friends has given the group an irreplaceable memory. Naturally, the episode ends with Cocoa presented with another map, which inevitably embarks a girl; who moved to the town a year ago; on a new journey, with the chance to in a sense, gain her rite of passage to the town's history of memories.

And thus, another season of GochiUsa ends.

There's something special within this world of rabbits, and the rite of passage to indulge upon the endearing adventures of the girls is as simple as sitting back, and relax, as the show takes you on a journey of goofiness and bliss, etched with the tingle of childhood's recalling. To conclude, Is the order a Rabbit?? is an heart-warming and small show, but wears its giant heart on its sleeve, and doesn't pull its punches when it wants the audience to truly experience humans' curious and wonderfully childish side.

(MINOR SPOILERS OF TV SERIES AND OVA) Perhaps the best way to describe Hibike! Euphonium is by literally contradicting myself: it is a work of complex simplicity. The emotional dissonance that exists, when a large group of individuals come together is typical of the atmosphere that you may find in a musical ensemble. Long story short, this OVA works as an alternate perspective provider on the emotional climax towards the latter end of the series, and it does it superbly.

When you strip down a piece of music, meant to be performed by an orchestra, concert band or choir...you find multiple sections of notes, melodies and ... phrases that sound hollow and empty when separate, but form a harmony of sounds when performed to perfection by an ensemble. Thus, an ensemble can be considered a body, operated by individual organs. Hibike!'s TV series perfectly encapsulated this aspect of daily life with a sense of subdued intensity and genuine passion, whilst also producing a work that exemplifies human drama at its most simple and complicated.

So how does this single OVA episode build from that? What can be considered to be the weakest element of the series; the romance triangle between Kumiko, Shuichi and Hazuki; was given more time to flower in this short 20 minutes. But rather surprisingly, against the backdrop of the increased intensity in the band's atmosphere towards the lead up to the competition, and the recent rejection of a proposal of love, instead of focusing on mindless bickering and self-pitying, Hazuki's character truly shines through as she attempts to throw herself into the cheerleading trenches for both the band and for Shuichi's seemingly one-sided love.

Put simply, Hazuki is the genki trope done right: she's realistic in her optimism, unwilling to show her sad side, but willing to admit it, when she realises her need for emotional support from her friends and an ability to find new goals to work towards, and ways to support the friends that helped her find a sense of comradery in the bass session: the ability to harmonise with friends as a small ensemble is an endearingly intimate and beautiful experience which can only be shared between true friendship.

The highlights of the episodes were essentially extended flowerings, stemmed from the seeds planted from the original series: Hazuki's interactions with Sapphire, Natsuki and Shuichi throughout the episode forms the backbone of this side story, and it sorely depends on your knowledge and sense of understanding towards these characters, your attention to detail and the ability to follow KyoAni's subtle framing of relational climates between characters, and their subtle expressiveness beyond just facial expressions and dialogue.

Sapphire's reminder to Hazuki, that she was brave beyond human capacity, when she proposed and took the rejection head-on; was a simple throwaway line, but the camera's close-ups of Sapphire's expressions of intense genuinity and Hazuki's shocked face that was etched with bittersweet gratitude, was made all the more memorable, when you consider the mirroring of Sapphire's encouragements of 'no regrets!' and Taki-sensei's opening comments, to take their failure of making the cut during the auditions, as a chance to further improve themselves, and to consider their situations as a tactically advantageous one: the bitter taste of failure is a source of motivation that is lacking in the students who made the cut. It's all a matter of perspective.

Natsuki has always been a favourite of mine from the TV series: her sparing presence were etched with memorable moments of goofiness and a sense of a upper-classman who has finally found her source of inspiration and the desire to support her juniors. What's so endearing about Natsuki's character; as supposed to the positive front put forward by Asuka to hide her more unapologetic side; is her ability to provide a source of warmth to her fellow section mates; one that isn't showered with spotlights of gratitude. Natsuki's actions, such as signing messages of inspiration on Kumiko's music sheets, her simply putting an arm around Hazuki's shoulder backstage, and embracing her in a hug on a whim on the way home, speaks volumes about her character: a good friend who supports you without being predictable and obvious. The OVA extends our scope of her impact on Hazuki's outlook on band life and acts as a magnifier for the emotional significance of Hazuki's interactions with Natsuki backstage, as they quietly cheered their bandmates on in episode 13.

Other little nuggets of gold are simply spread around for fans of the series to pick out: why did Hazuki quickly adjust her grip on the tuba case when her and Shuichi's hands touched for a split second? Why did Hazuki smile suddenly when she spied kids playing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' and why did she encourage herself to run faster by commenting on a tubist's lung capacity?

Needless to say, KyoAni's work on the series is top-notch: a great control of subdued digital polish, lighting control and general fluidity in animation. The background art were borderline visually poetic in their intense details and selective colour palettes of the sunset's orange hues, and the blueish coolness of twilight. The background music were directly borrowed from the subdued and theme-based OST of the TV series, supporting and adding the needed polish to each scene they were utilised in.

As an OVA, this is an episode which you can enjoy alongside the TV series: it is a subdued but impassioned piece of artwork, made from a studio that greatly respects humans' interactive nature: interesting things always happen when you just allow characters to interact like human beings.

There's a general consensus, that photographs are just fragments of frozen time and moments, nothing more. We take them on a whim, hoping to save a split second of amazement or amusement, and in a world where social media and smartphones rule societies, it seems that the significance of photographs are becoming less…intimate.

In reality, there exists an almost…interdimensional relationship between a photo, its subject and the photographer: there's a REASON WHY a photo was taken and WHY this particular subject was chosen, framed and shot. These actions acuminate from personal emotions and attachments between the documenter and the documented. Photographs that are…truly wonderful are ... those that had managed to capture a fragment of heartfelt fervour when the shutter button was pushed…or where a moment of preciousness fluttering through the air was captured permanently onto a single, perfect image.

As a 4 episode 'healing (Iyashikei)' OVA, created by the same creator who had envisioned Aria the Animation, Tamayura's story is a simple tale of finding one's passion, the journeys one must undertake in order to find their purpose, and of course…the mysterious wanders of the 150 year old art form that we call photography. As an inspiring and self-proclaimed amateur photographer myself, this OVA struck home on multiple occasions regarding my hobby and offers a multitude of inspiringly beautiful moments and messages that not everyone will be able to truly appreciate and understand. There are shows that rely on deep-reaching plotlines and blood pumping action, others that rely on non-stop comedy and plot twists. Tamayura is a show that invites you to slow down, and smile as your heartbeat slows to match the tempo the show offers you, in addition to a wonderfully simple and colourful story that proceeds to relax every single muscle in your body, whilst also offering you messages of artistic inspiration.

Escapism is a common initiator for interest in visual mediums such as anime, and as are most things in this world: escapism comes in many forms. The human imagination forces individuals to seek and experience the new and to find that unique spark that proves their individuality in ways that's beyond the chemical, atomic and the biologic. Amongst the fantastical adventures of space operas, demonic realms where gods and devils do battle, most; if not all; endearing stories always find their roots in the intimacy of human relationships and the purity of unspoiled human compassion. So, when the impurities of conflict were kept out of the thematic experience, Tamayura's setting on a realistic platform is left with a grounded atmosphere that feels ironically surreal: the definition of escapism from conflict altogether.

The true enjoyment of the Slice of Life genre is appreciating the magic and adventures that normal lives can offer: passions that allows individuals to find inspiration and beauty in the mundane and the typical.

Tamayura's thematic foundations very much constructs itself upon an almost overwhelming sense of childish bliss and precious intimacy, and every element of the experience is tailored to reflect that: from Fu (our main female lead)'s simply worded monologues and her almost tooth-achingly sweet optimism, to the endearing tone of the first episode's title: 'The town with a lot of things that I love.' Every element of Tamayura's introduction (and the entire OVA, in fact) is premeditated to maintain this sense of beauty in simplicity, whilst also signalling a journey, in response to passion's callings.

To briefly analyse every goddamn detail from the first 5 minutes of the first episode, let's start with the opening footage. Tamayura's artistic canvas very much draws inspirations from the blurriness of early childhood memories, starting with its rough, hand-painted visual elements serving as its background artwork. The first 30 seconds consists of Fu's opening monologues, innocently citing the mysterious nature of photographs, with footage panning across bamboo-framed photographs of various landscapes, above vintage camera models. Interestingly, the opening footage also features the focal point of the entire OVA: a vertical portrait of Fu's father, and the illuminated spots (common imperfection in analogue photographic films) that surrounded him when the camera captured the shot. Finding perfection in imperfection was perhaps an unintended analogy when Fu revealed her belief, that these 'tamayuras' only appear, when the moment captured is truly perfect, but it successfully resonates with the OVA's identity as a Slice of Life title, with Iyashikei as its subgenre.

The OP sequence of Tamayura takes the liberty of adapting the Ghibli icon Kiki's Delivery Service's ED song, performed here by Sakamoto Maaya, which accompanies a calmly composited set of imagery that finds inspirations from the real life town of Takehara. Rather fitting, considering the similarity in themes of self-discovery, which both titles share. Also rather fitting: the OP's flavour is dusted with creative choices of photograph frames and portraits featuring Fu's family and friends, not long after showcasing Fu's trademark camera, the Rolei 35S. There exists an abundance of nostalgia in the OP sequence, simulating the long-past memories of years gone by, resurfaced by the collection of rediscovered images and the intimate personality of the featured location. Such viewer responses are amplified by the inclusion of the bicycle: taking a few pages from the similarly toned show, Honey and Clover, the bicycle's brief appearance in the OP and the first few minutes of the episode very much adds to the subtle symbolism that the OVA utilises in showcasing its themes of self-discovery: the human endurance-powered transport and its motivational prominence in Honey and Clover; and by extension, here; very much offers the observation, that riding a bike non-stop without looking back, and without knowing the definite destination, is very much an adventure in itself.

Then there's the inspirational message to enjoy the unintended tangents from the planned path, and enjoying the journey before reaching the destination, but we will discuss that with more thematic stimuli featured in the OVA.

Our first true introduction to Fu was seeing her chasing a floating dandelion seed, pretend-framing it with her fingers. This extended scene achieves a multitude of cinematic developments, by presenting Fu as a creatively active (and absent-minded) girl, and a sense of sentimental empathy in the emotional impact of seeing dandelion seeds in cinematic mediums: they are fondly part of childhood's bliss, whilst also possessing the storytelling associations of freedom and flight.

Accompanying the images onscreen, is an intimate ensemble of instruments which combine their tones and personalities, to create a suite of background musical pieces which heightens the relaxed emotional ambience, which the show has placed the audience under the spell of. The opening sequence is guided by a stream of simple piano melodies, with each verse transcending nostalgia. The ending note to each verse is a lone and echoing high-pitched call to eventual silence: almost suggesting a longing voice to be set free.

The track after the OP also retains the intimate personality of the OST, but adding in a sense of optimistic energy with a multitude of instruments joining the ensemble: the combination of a clarinet solo, acoustic guitar, chamber strings section and piano, the resulting melody simply oozes with a sense of joyful homeliness, whilst also adding to the slightly melodramatic tone, which the show introduces in tiny sips throughout the episodes. Also throughout the OVA, the musical score remains a relative forefront in the soundscape, welcomingly extending its thematic significance in the emotional climate inhabited by the viewers.

Perhaps the single most important element of cinematic perfection of which Tamayura achieves, is what I consider to be its incidental messages of artistic inspiration, successfully planting seeds without most of us noticing. Amongst the episodes, while Fu and her friends banter and goof around various sites and locations (including visiting a photograph gallery of a photographer that Fu admired), innocently enjoying their lives, tiny incidents of a seemingly frustrating nature briefly hamper the otherwise perfect experiences: them getting continuously lost whilst on road trips, and Fu accidently rolling her ankle, having to be carried by an adult.

But something tells me, that the older sister in charge of their expeditions was intentionally not following the map, just to give her group a sense of living outside schedules and plans. Luck and fate did the rest, as Fu made her miraculous discovery (or a sudden flooding back of memories) whilst holding onto the shoulder of the photography store owner, with her leg bound in a makeshift cast. These tiny moments of emotional payoff successfully offset the contrived nature of many stories, by hiding them behind tiny moments of incidental events, and delivering the blow with a sense of naturally felt grace and goodwill. The emotional power behind the seemingly mundane events of a truly great Slice of Life show, is achieving memorability with heartfelt sincerity, and without exaggerated drama, conflict nor sudden fireworks-aided epiphanies.

And yet after all that, the one true centre of Tamayura's story, resides in what Fu keeps strapped to her prized camera: a ticket with no specified destination. The significance behind this memento from Fu's photographer friend and idol, are the oh-so-obvious messages which visual storytelling would usually also associate with the depiction of trains and train lines: the journey's passing sceneries beyond that window, will always be eternally more beautiful and interesting than lusting for the arrival. Of course, Tamayura also presents this symbolic object as an allegory to finding one's own unique destinations in life, a message which retains its own unique beauty.

So, how should one see Tamayura? Well, for me, it's a quietly passionate love letter to flowering artists. One of my favourite sayings and beliefs is that when it comes to love and passion, stating the obvious is a beautiful thing. The painfully idealistic nature of Tamayura doesn't even come CLOSE to achieving realism in an objectively thematic sense, but in a creatively empowering sense, it's idealism that help propel the collective human race forward, whether it be socially, creatively, scientifically or politically. Thus, I shall conclude by presenting the OVA with one final praise: it is a truly heartfelt ode to all photographers, artists and storytellers everywhere.

At times, what makes something fresh and different may only be a simple setting change. While rightly considered a high school drama, Hanasaku Iroha places particular emphasis on life subjects not usually touched upon in high school dramas; subjects beyond just love octagons. The series takes a hands-on approach in exploring the very human lives of the characters who work at Kissuiso Inn, utilising their various character developments and plots to present the audience a collection of life lessons that ranges from parenthood to a simple lesson of teamwork. The always dynamic atmosphere of Kissuiso makes the setting feel like a real place and the ... characters feel like real, breathing human beings; a big credit is due to the concept artists as well, which I will go into later.

Like most Slice of Life genre contenders, the characters make the entire show. Whilst Hanasaku Iroha does offer a solid series of story plots, the colourful cast of characters are what makes this show engaging from start to finish. The top of the ladder presents an already unconventional character dynamic of three family generations: starting from Sui, the 70 year old owner of Kissuiso, her daughter, 38 year old journalist Satsuki, who's also the mother of 16 year old Ohana, our main lead character. There exists a particular flavour of familiarity that these three family members share in terms of life experiences, which makes it all the more interesting to watch how the 'like mother, like daughter' characteristics materialise through different lives and time periods. Of course, there's also Satsuki's younger brother (Ohana's uncle), but his role in this family dynamic only plays a big role towards the end of the show.

'Festing it up'; a saying that sprouted from Ohana's abnormally powerful vocal chords during a time of desperation, essentially forms the basis of these three characters' stories within the series and the overall theme that Hanasaku Iroha offers. What makes this saying frustrating, is the general lack of definition: it is a seemingly empty saying with no literal meaning behind it. However, as a catalyst for further analysis, Ohana's family members (including herself) all share a tiger's determination to succeed in their lives and to achieve their own goals ruthlessly. This common personality of their respective characters each meant resulting consequences in the form of a dysfunctional family, where the parents ignored the needs of their children for the pursuit of their own dreams, which of course acts as the overarching story of the show. So essentially, As a defence mechanism, after being raised in an environment where no one could be trusted other than herself, Ohana's independent and fiery nature is put to the test as she started working at her grandmother's inn.

Ohana's character is one of mean-spirited determination, one that can be both considered as admirable and at times self-harming. As a teenage girl, Ohana was forced to grow up earlier than she was meant to and had no father to speak of and a mother that is irresponsible at best, downright obnoxious and selfish at worst. It is thus rather interesting, to find Ohana a person who is direct in her confrontations, physical and practical in her intentions and is overall a very pleasant and strong character in her own right: what she learns in this series is a sore need of friends and a hard lesson on the consideration for others.

It would be unfair of course, to leave Satsuki and Sui in the dust: both these characters are portrayed in a negative light towards the starting of the series. But with the show's steady plot progression, both characters were given satisfying growth spurts and enough explorations to become decent characters, who complements Ohana's strong presence in the show really nicely. Side characters, largely those who reside in Kissuiso, are all given pleasant amounts of screen time, personality quirks and a general likeability in all of them; ranging from a tsundere Minko (who, to this reviewer's opinion, comes closest to being unlikeable on some occasions) to an age-conscious head waitress Tomoe, who exists as an alternative mother figure to the girls who work under her and also acts as the resident badass at survival gaming.

In the visual department, Hanasaku Iroha is nothing short of stunning, although it shouldn't be taken as a surprise, considering the involvement of production studio, PA Works; whose works spans from action thriller CANNAN, KEY urban fantasies Angel Beats and Charlotte to the underwater visual extravaganza that is Nagi no Asakura; have proven themselves to be a studio capable of consistent and high production values. The show's attention to background art detail is evident in the presence of Kissuiso's interior and exterior; a lived in but welcoming inn with its easily distinguishable personalities and stylings when compared to other featured inns in the series. The landscape background art, from the rural greenery around the inn to the urban high rise buildings of Tokyo are also given nice contrast in colours and vibrant lighting; not to mention the effortless beauty that the show maintains during night scenes, both rural and urban.

In the animation department, much are available for applause as well: character movements maintains their fluidness and weight, with solid attention given to body expressions and interactions with the background objects and environment. There are moments where the use of CGI can get a sharp decrease in quality and become jarring (note Episode 3, CG panning shot of Kissuiso Interior and Episode 7; a charging scene featuring survival gamers), but those moments are far and between.

In the sound department, with no English dub to judge, and an inability to go into detail regarding my thoughts on the Japanese actors' performance (the best I could say, is that they were solid and fit their respective characters well), I will move straight on to the music.

Hanasaku Iroha seems to have an habit of not only presenting us with an abundance of OP's and ED's sequences, but also shower us with extra song numbers as well to accompany them. Thankfully, there do exist 2 frequently used OP and ED sequences and songs, respectively, that allows the series to maintain a solid identity within them. The first OP features a solidly performed song by nano.RIPE; sang with appropriate energy and enthusiasm, accompanied by a high quality OP sequence which featured the busy lives of the workers at Kissuiso. The second OP sequence maintains the quality, accompanied by another song performed by nano.RIPE; subjectively inferior to the first in this reviewer's opinion. Both ED's are solid in their simplicity: rotating frames of either light beams or maple leaves with our main characters filling in the gap, accompanied by more mellow song numbers.

The background music and instrumental soundtrack was composed by veteran Shiro Hamaguchi, who managed to invent a score that had hidden complexities that were (and still are) rare in Slice of Life TV. With a simple ensemble of a small strings section and solo violin and cello, woodwind section, flute and clarinet solos, acoustic guitar and piano, the soundscape sounds wonderfully organic, relaxing and emotionally enriching. The tones produced by the score range from happy-go lucky to melancholy. Due to the intimate nature of the tracks, the series is prone to be wrongly accused of being 'too light' on music. But to trained ears, the restraint is appropriate to the show and the musical development of prevalent themes through multiple instrumentations and flavours presents a smartly presented score. However, at its best, the score does manage to evoke a majestic sense of religiosity, heavily featured towards the end of the series, with a track that was led by a sizeable vocal choir, which also appropriately accompanies the Bonbori Festival. Check out the track 'Ray of Light'. Don't forget to turn up the volume, make yourself comfortable and close your eyes. http://anime.thehylia.com/soundtracks/album/hanasaku-iroha-original-soundtrack/24%2520-%2520Ray%2520of%2520Light.mp3

(Side note) Interestingly, both OP sequences heavily feature trains, train lines…and butterflies. This is also evident in the show itself; trains are everywhere, even more so than shows of similar subjects with Hanasaku Iroha. Considering the themes of life journeys and chasing dreams, there exists parallels with the visual depiction of trains, train lines and embarking on a journey; an experience in which looking outside the window to enjoy the ever-changing landscape is eternally more interesting than lusting for the arrival: didn't they say that it's always about the journey, not the destination? (Sorry about the sudden symbolism talk).

To 'professionally' conclude, there are some great lessons to be learnt and a wonderful slew of events to be witnessed in Hanasaku Iroha, where the daily trials and tribulations of an inn managed to slip in stories regarding rebelling teenagers, life-long dreams, the dread and reflections of old age and unrequited love. The Slice of Life genre will find a worthy advocate in this series as one that's engaging, meaningful and above all else, entertaining.

"What Clannad has achieved is still waiting to be surpassed, in terms of its magnitude in exploring human relationships and its dedication to the most intricate and intimate centre of human beings." My conclusion, for those who are too lazy to read.

I will let this be clear from the get-go: SPOILERS FOR CLANNAD SEASON 1 (as if any of you needed any more reminders…It IS season 2 we are talking about here). This will be a review that essentially expands my views on the ENTIRE 2 seasons of the show. Translation, this is a review of Clannad AND Clannad After Story. The reason for this, ... is that in my eyes, Clannad is a 50 episode show that should be viewed as one complete story.

Also, much like the show Clannad, this reviewer hopes/assumes that you have read my review to Clannad S1. For those who are impatient, here's my final verdict for Clannad S1 (My review on season 1 only oversees how one can view the first season as a separate series, with no regard for After Story): "As a standalone season, Clannad is a flawed show with a few aspects of perfection that makes it only more important to finish the journey with Clannad After Story: In other words, it’s a must watch under the reality that; while not being an masterpiece, it’s a stepping stone FOR something greater."

And here we are fellas: the end of a 50 episode series run that had many citing as their gateway into the romance genre of anime, and has since set a benchmark in amounts of melodrama, raw emotion and tears, which few has managed to reach, much less surpass. Why so? In short, Clannad: After Story managed to illustrate, narrate and explore the most fundamental fibers of humanity, with a cast of characters so intimately constructed and personified to unravel the story, and each offered the audience something so precious, that it would be a travesty not to accept the gifts and cherish them; the gifts being of course: what it means to be a family, and that mystical bond that determines the limitless value of family.

So, how does Clannad: After Story try to depict family? Why, a force of good that can overcome any amount of pain, suffering and tragedy (note that last one). So, it would be interesting to observe how the show explores multiple facets of 'family' through the various arcs which essentially forms this 50 episode show.

Nagisa's eventual turn in the spotlight managed to offer a multitude of themes regarding love, while also providing as a blueprint for the 'perfect family'. One of the most endearing elements of Clannad is the Furukawa family: one that is depicted as a lovable unit filled with personality, one that managed to get by through a healthy dose of bad cooking to avoid sour feelings, one that welcomes Nagisa's new boyfriend with open arms, AND a family that values the happiness of each other over everything else. It was always a swirl of emotions when ANY member of the Furukawa family was on screen: you either laugh at silly Dad jokes, or you want to cry your eyes out along with Nagisa, as you bear witness to the selfness acts that eventuated to what's currently on screen: Nagisa on stage, during her first self-directed and solo-performed drama production. The ending of the first season no doubt left many believing, that what they are watching, was something preciously special.

Clannad: After Story's fame; rather interestingly, is more so tied to the latter 12 episodes; the first 10 episodes unfortunately forms a sort of a wall of confusion: "soo…this is the pinnacle of anime melodrama?"

Let's be clear, the first 10 episodes; which contains 3 small arcs for a variety of side characters; aren't bad. But considering the status of the show, these episodes are rather average and in most cases; allowed the flaws of S1 to come back; sometimes in even more obvious fashions: The events felt even MORE contrived, unrealistic and at times even contradicts the so intricately constructed character personalities. Without going into details, the inclusion of themes of siblings' need to care for each other, the relationships of a well-knitted um…gangster gang, and yet ANOTHER ghost story regarding a pet cat; are entirely welcome, but they could have been done so much better.

After Story's second half was; quite accurately; cited as the most depressing, heart-wrenching AND heart-warming second half of ANY series one has ever lived to bear witness to; been able to emotionally traumatize the audience not once; not twice; not thrice; etc… So, once again; when one judges it with an objective mind and cocked eye sockets; how well did it stand up?

First of all, when's the last time an anime announced a ship, have the series CONTINUE beyond the confessions, have them GRADUATE HIGH SCHOOL (wait…WHAT? WHAT HAPPENS AFTER HIGH SCHOOL?), GET BLOODY MARRIED, aaaannnnddd…get jobs and move into a new home? It never happens.

After Story established a new relationship medium after high school, with the intention to end the show with one huge final arc that essentially writes the biggest passionate and powerful love ballad to the human concept of (urgh…) family. Tomoya and Nagisa's relationship is simply sweet and adorable, with realism understandably shaved off slightly to allow for the portrayal of a perfect couple: one such portrayal which was ONCE AGAIN intended for establishing the audience's emotional attachment in preparation to the world-famous multiple knock-outs; such an ordeal that no one could possibly survive; unless you managed to live with a brick pumping blood into your brain instead.

Of the three major sub-plots that exists within this final arc, one of them seems to have achieved its goal most flawlessly. Tomoya's troubled relationship with his father was made evident throughout the show, with a history that hinted at abuse of alcohol, the loss of a loved one and even (possibly accidental) child abuse. The resolution of this side plot was, as usual, also evident of ass-pulling convenience (eg. The grandma character). But the resolution of the father character was done respectably and with a heavy emotional relief that warms the hearts of the audience, seeing a strained relationship mended through simple forgiveness and understanding of the circumstances which prevented a better life progression.

Unfortunately, the other flaws of this final arc exists in such a fashion that is utterly IMPOSSIBLE to analysis without mention of some sort of spoiler, so, squint your eyes and scroll down quickly, and continue reading once you reached the spoiler-free zone again.

(SPOILERS) It is rather unfortunate, that the most emotionally powerful scenes (and, there are many) of the final episodes, all suffered the same issue of artificial convenience. The pregnancy announcement for Nagisa was done in a light-hearted and funny way (curtesy of the Furukawa family), but not long before the show decides to once again plant hints of tragedy with a mysterious sickness that has haunted Nagisa since birth; one that was conveniently left unnamed and one that has no known cure, with symptoms that are not clearly explained beyond loss of consciousness and high fever.

Nagisa's passing succeeded in its branding on the audiences' minds purely because of its shock value AND how it was placed directly opposite the purely joyful occasion of childbirth. Against the backdrop of a snowing night, inside the family home, what was to happen was meant to be a happy moment. What instead happened was unexpected, unforgivable, and unfair, but it was done perfectly.

One of my personal greatest ironies, was how I viewed the arc dedicated to Ushio: for me, those 2 episodes…the interactions between Tomoya and his daughter defined my absolute favorite moments in any episode of ANY anime I've EVER watched: simple dialogue choices, the background design and setting of a flower field doused in a golden sunset, where the two lone figures of a father and his daughter cried in each other's arms, finally and truly united as a family. Each of these choices seemed to have made just for me: I cried when Ushio accepts her Dad's open arms, I cried some more along with them both, and watching as Tomoya tried to remember his wife on the train only reopened unhealed wounds, leading only to more crying.

HOWEVER, I also cannot shake the reality, that Ushio exists only as a plot device for Tomoya's character development; she was given only 3 to 4 episodes to show herself on screen, and was given little time to develop beyond that cute 5 year old who seems to act way too perfect for a child. Of course, her role increased towards the 'true' ending, but it doesn’t help, that Ushio was created solely for tear-jerking.

Speaking of the ending…I'm in the team who saw it as a good ending, mainly because I understood the hints the show has given us throughout the 50 episodes and took it as a relieving Disney-ending: the wish-fulfilling nature of those snowflake-like lights. Sure, could've been done better than the bi-polar taste that managed to both encourage suicide-provoking depression AND a 'Oh, thank God' reaction, but an ending that made me (urgh…)cry with relief. I shall explain why when we get to the music. (SPOILERS END)

Anyone who knows Kyoto Animation's production history, would quickly learn to expect big things from this studio: Their ability to pump quality into every frame of their production is simply astounding. So let's break down After Story's visual for some tasty analysis:

First of all, typical of KyoAni, particular attention was given to the movement of character models: rarely would you find scenes of static bodies with flapping mouths only, simple gestures of facial expression changes, body tilt animation also allows the characters arms to rearrange slightly to support the superficial weight. All that is done with the intention for a show full of characters that feel alive and human.

Of course, with shows such as Hyouka, Free! and the recent Hibike coming out, background art and camera tricks are no longer a viable selling point for Clannad's visuals: mind you, there are still wonderful when they need to, but Clannad still belong at a stage in time when KyoAni wasn't experimenting with more cinematic approaches to style the visual experience. Nonetheless, scenes such as Ushio running amongst a field of sunflowers (I think) and that overwatch hill bathed in sunlight as we watch Nagisa waiting for Tomoya as he finished his day job are all beautiful.

Now, to music. If you read my Clannad 1st Season review, you would know of my usual tastes in music: acoustic and orchestral, if you please. But Clannad AS's synth didn’t prevent me from calling the soundtrack a masterstroke. Let us go back to the epilogue for just one sec if you want an explanation. But first…

One of my biggest pet peeves was to see an OP or ED changed when the old one was PERFECT. Thankfully, the AS OP was an substantial upgrade in terms of emotional resonance and visual quality; a well-performed ballad coupled with scrolling shots of landscapes and a stylish showcase of major characters. The ED however was a big letdown. The Dango song was what I considered one of the most memorable, irreplaceable and perfect elements of Clannad S1, instead it was replaced with a run-of-the-mill J-pop song, that lacks the melody to remain hummable.

BUT. The dango song comes back to grace us with its return in the pain relief that is the show's 5 minute long epilogue; one that echoes the opening scene of the Pixar film Up: no dialogue, just scenes and music. The dango melody has been transformed into a power ballad, and accompanies the ending of the final arc. Having this theme follow me for almost 50 episodes, 'The Palm of a Tiny Hand' sends Nagisa's (AKA dango song) theme to a place higher than ever before. Gentlemen, behold, the power of music. Those who still scoff at the childishness of the Clannad ending song, would be bound to eat their words after this.

So, AFTER ALL THIS, who is Clannad and Clannad After Story for? Anyone who's willing to give it a go, I guess. There's a good reason as to why this duo became the anime poster child for romance: it is heart-warming, beautiful, honest in its homage to that wonderfully human concept of family and it knows what's important in human lives.

Clannad and Clannad After Story is a subjective masterpiece in this reviewer's mind, it is also objectively a must-watch show for everyone who calls themselves an anime fan; this is a landmark series that exists as required viewing, despite all the flaws that myself and every human on earth can throw on these shows.

To (finally) conclude. What Clannad has achieved is still waiting to be surpassed, in terms of its magnitude in exploration and dedication to the most intricate and intimate centre of human beings.

One of the most difficult aspects of reviewing the pinnacle of the legendary KyoAni & Key Trinity of shows, for me personally; are the combination of two issues:

1. My faithful belief that anything KyoAni touches just...oozes with quality and care, that absolutely NOTHING that comes out of their studio ISN'T great and worth watching (Translation: I'm a KyoAni fan, with good reason, too, as I will explain later).

2. The emotionally manipulative nature of the source material and the resulting adaptation that only intensified such aspects of appealing to emotions of viewers. In simpler terms: This franchise very much tried to (and obviously succeeded) snipe ... their audience with a narrow but fatally effective tactic of appealing to raw emotion ONLY.

Now, when I rate shows for my own records or try to find new shows to watch, I usually take my personal connection and enjoyment as almost always my sole scale of comparison: did I ENJOY this director/writer/author's other works? If so than HELL YEAH, give me more. But, when I sit down to pen a "professional" review for the benefit of other people (translation: forcing my views upon others 'gently'), I try to bring forth the other aspects into play for a more objective view. And frankly, Clannad 1st season is; for the most part; pretty average or even mediocre in some ways. The plot takes way too many liberties for one that's set in a realistic world that looks and acts just like ours, some of the main characters lack the development to shed their cookie-cutter boringness, the melodrama and plot advancing felt all-too-forced and artificially constructed if one had the (un)fortunate ability to shut down their eye-taps and their hearts’ nerves and look at the show with emotionless, robot-like objectivity (I surprised myself with such abilities after FINALLY sitting down to rewatch the series for this review…I feel ashamed.)

The sole reason for this first season’s lasting popularity and being crowned as a gateway title into the romance genre of anime are its creators’ acute understanding of simple human psychology; understandably useful and welcome talents for any creators of entertainment; but it also makes the show feel lazy if that’s the only tool it knows how to utilise.

The relatively large cast which includes the male lead, a self-hating, sarcastic but inhumanely sympathetic and helpful Tomoya, sidekick punching bag Youhei, Fuko, a girl with a starfish fetish, a slew of love interests in a classic harem-like fashion in the form of quietly determined but shy Nagisa, bipolar twins of gangster Kyou and submissive Ryou, bookworm Kotomi and badass ice queen Tomoyo plus (some admittedly well-realised and effective) your usual group of side characters all make a very much entertaining ride. Thankfully, easily the most respectable aspect of this show being a harem; is that this show never tries to be cheap and allow the usually annoying parts of a stereotypical harem comedy show sipping in for the sake of cheap laughs and fan service.

Realistically, this show can almost not be called a harem, since the lead Tomoya never had any issues of choosing his ‘one’, with the other unlucky girls, who were almost immediately placed in the story as friends, without giving the audience a moment to doubt who Tomoya would end up together with by the end.

So, with the story NOT being ‘who will he choose?’, the multiple arcs are each a series of slowly-building canon music pieces-like stories that sees Tomoya attempting to aid one girl out of the group in her quest to achieve a task or to resolve a childhood tragedy, which after its eventual resolving; plus the inevitable cry-fest; the arc ends and we are back at it again with another girl. And this is the aspect of the show which I found incredibly difficult to critique: it’s the best AND possibly the worst part of the show.

When seen for the first time, each individual arcs did very well in their ability to steadily build up melodrama, effective character development for the girl in the limelight and for the male lead. It is for this reason, that Tomoya was effectively the most well-developed and well-rounded character in the series; a trait which was further solidified with the second season, After Story.

Each arc works well for different reasons, due to their large variety in subject matter. For example, the more fantastical nature of Fuko’s quest to fulfil her life-long dream of seeing her older sister happy with a husband; a simple folk-tale-like ghost story that ends with fitting bitter sweetness was nicely contrasted with Kotomi’s attempt to grow past a tragic childhood with her parents; and an ending which I felt was a nice example of perfect storytelling through non-literal imagery and well-placed plot devices that serve as representations of larger-than-life concepts: that the bonds between family transcends time and space. Watch the show and see how the show successfully portrayed this message with the use of a made-up Physics thesis and a teddy bear.

But these two arcs are also effective examples of what I find hard to truly believe as a marvel in storytelling in anime and a reason why I feel that Clannad is not a show for the intellectual, but for those who follow their guts and hearts only. In complete contrast to my above praises for Kotomi’s arc and its successful storytelling using tools beyond monologues, my main gripe against Clannad IS its reliance on direct manipulation of the viewers emotions; the placing of scenes, the wording of dialogue and the use of the astoundingly simple musical score are all intentionally and artificially sewn together with the sole intention of maximum effectiveness when the bombshell is finally revealed at the end of each arc; natural progression of plot is secondary to the writers and animators of the series, who are all instead focused on placing the audience in the right moment for their carefully staged reveal.

Regarding Fuko’s arc, without spoiling major plot points, the last 2 or 3 episodes of the arc is a classic example of emotional staging for the audience: the issue is revealed in a fashion that shocks the audience, enough to startle, but not enough for an emotional outburst. Then the show takes its sweet time in sprinkling salt on the wound, with scenes that are emotionally difficult to watch, all emphasising the nature of Fuko’s situation. A few tears are no doubt shed and feelings of sympathy are no doubt imbedded in the audience by this time. The show then proceeds to feint a few moments of light-hearted fun and moe-infused cuteness with Fuko celebrating her birthday with her friends. Then in the morning, the show pulls out all stops and decides to show the one thing that the audience were tricked into believing; would not happen. Of course, for 10 minutes, the audience are forced to watch as 2 of Fuko’s friends trying to deal with the unforgivable circumstances, before the bombshell is delivered, perfectly timed when the audience were properly traumatised; half-revived and traumatised again. All these scenes are not naturally progressive in a plot standpoint; they are delivered in a fashion that seems to be all-too-convenient for the show’s own intentions. Of course, you can argue that not all things in life are so predictable and can be logically explained; but then there’s the issue of explaining why these scenes are shown in such ways that were obviously storyboarded with the pure intention of a massive emotional pay-off.

It is therefore undeniable, that rating a show ONLY on its ability to make audiences cry is not the best way to fairly judge a show; the human emotion is all too easily influenced by those who know the art; think of why Yu-Gi-Oh’s most cheesy friendship monologues made you cry, despite of your brain’s scoffing and moaning, and why WWII propaganda worked so well to convince the masses to commit near-genocides.

Now onto the various subjects that Clannad absolutely excelled at. In a standalone perspective, the girl and the robot scenes is another example of the constraints of adapting from another medium: scenes that may not take away from the experience in the visual novel made absolutely no sense in the 1st season, and it never gets resolved until the end of the 2nd season. However, ironically, these useless scenes are tiny moments where Kyoto Animation decides to blow up their coffers to provide us the best animation ever achieved for a 24 episode TV series during the time this show was airing…and it still holds up and beats 95% of shows in quality that are airing in 2015. A typical characteristic of a KyoAni show is their ability to somehow always produce shows that either just simply becomes the best looking show of whichever seasonit was airing, or with a production value and style so high or so popular that it begins to influence the anime industry itself; all with a reportedly modest budget, instead relying on a welcomingly well-knited small group of animators, writers and directors who are unconstrained by time and the pressure of working in subpar conditions and having to work on multiple shows in one season.

Clannad has the perfect combination of purposefully detailed background art that knows how to sell the personality of the setting and the town, varied animation that can portray action effectively, smooth in-between animation to keep movements steady and of course the prolific KyoAni touch of subtle character body movements to sell realism and a cinematic quality of the show. For 2007-08, this show handily beats all of its counterparts in the reign of production value and the visual department, all the while competing with the heavy-hitters of 2007-8, a period considered by many as the most recent Golden Age of Anime.

In the department of sound, the Dub vs. Sub debate remains; having watched both to completion, I would say that the Sub has the best voices for the male and female leads (Tomoya’s later-revealed girlfriend) I’ve heard in a while; with the male lead’s voice having a flavour that sells a damaged teenage delinquent, who is otherworldly passionate in helping others, without losing his sarcastic flare, while the female lead’s sincere and moe-infused voice fits the role perfectly. The dub, whilst inferior, does its job well for the most part for a more realistic take on the voices of actual teenagers.

The musical score is another issue of splitting hairs for me. Jun Maeda himself wrote the music to his creation; with his usual flare of dreaming up simple melodies that manages to carry massive baggage in the form of emotional onslaught. So what’s perfect about it? It knows when to use its character themes, when to let it all loose to add to the inevitable climax at an arc’s end, and it is one of the major aspects of the entire show that remains memorable for anyone who has seen the show.

I shall admit my distaste towards synth and anything not created by an acoustic instrument or vocal performance. Anything by a massive orchestra or a simple ensemble of piano, solo violin and a few woodwinds is instantly better in my books. So I should hate this soundtrack with a passion: cheap synth trying to replicate a solo clarinet or a strings section makes it impossible to listen separately most of the time. So why don’t I? The most celebrated theme in the whole show: Nagisa’s theme/Dango song, is what I believe to be one of the best single themes in anime history: it is utterly impossible to forget it once you finished the show, and it’s childishly simple melody carries with itself, a sense of child-like wonderment and nostalgia. I won’t be able to tell you the significance of the Nagisa/Dango theme without a) leaving it for the After Story review and b) crowning it as the one single aspect of the entire show that absolutely embodies the one SINGLE overarching theme of this 50 episode show: the title ‘Clannad’ and its obvious homage to the word ‘Clan’ and in turn, the theme of ‘Family’: the childish bliss that is the Dango song; sang as the ED for every episode of Clannad 1st season; is a constant reminder of the importance of family, a song made all the more effective the more episodes you watched. In short, this is barely scratching the surface in explaining the importance of this one deceptively simple musical theme. Read on to my eventual After Story review for a more complete answer.

So, in the end, IS Clannad a good show? So what should a good anime do? Take us on a journey that’s unforgettable, make us love the characters and lose ourselves in their world, teach us something profound and new and, most importantly, be enjoyable. Clannad achieves that in SPADES. Despite its issues with some character developments and my objective issues with HOW it goes about doing so, what it DOES achieve is practically unprecedented. It was no accident that Clannad/After Story is one of the most celebrated shows in the romantic genre; it is sincere and heartfelt, emotionally charged in amounts few has attempted successfully before and embarks on a noble quest on teaching the value of family. As a standalone season, Clannad is a flawed season with a few aspects of perfection that makes it only more important to finish the journey with Clannad After Story: In other words, it’s a must watch under the reality that; while not being an masterpiece, it’s a stepping stone FOR something greater.

For those who made it this far, thanks for reading one of my first reviews where I went this deep on an anime show; being an new anime fan and everything. Looking forward to writing more in the future.

It's difficult to pair Clannad/After Story with another anime series...Kanon 2006 would be only natural, but its basically Clannad-lite; still great, but only watch it as a supporting series next to Clannad.

But I think I recently found another series which mirrors the emotional onslaught of Clannad...but does it in another way. Whilst Clannad deals with more...imaginative or dream-like subjects like Japanese legends of spirits, The Pet Girl of Sakurasou is rooted deeply within real human experiences...so real, in fact, you cannot but feel for the characters. (Well...unless you are one of those ivory tower kids who lived your life eating from diamond-studded silver platters...Why don't ... you go and watch Ouran to learn some decency before coming back here.)

Granted, the fan service in this show can be a bit too much SOMEtimes (NOTE episode 7 bath scene...skip 10:30 - 12:25 if you want to escape the worst of it...but you will miss the humorous dialogue)...but the humour in this show are beyond gold, and they don't always rely on near-naked situations...Many of them rely on clashing personalities of the characters, the best being Sorato with his sister Yuuko and Mashiro. Watch until Episode 10...and guess where the show would go next (hint: its way more depressing AND inspiring.)

Ok, Sakurasou review time. It's a series that BEGS for a sequel (because it was so good), but is already complete in its story arcs. It follows characters who live in Sakura dorm, a place where the high school they attend would separate 'problem' students from the regular dorm. What we get is a group of students who are unique, quirky, likeable and RELATABLE, and we get to experience their everyday struggles.

So about these characters...one is a hyperactive, bright girl who lives and breathes animation, plus a young, celebrity artist who might be brilliant with a paintbrush, but useless at everything else. Among them are 3 more: a normal boy who was placed in Sakura dorm for keeping cats (against school rules); who fights with jealousy and envy when he witnesses the geniuses around him at work. Another is somewhat a playboy who wants to live up to his true love's high achievements before admitting that love, and a workaholic (but otherwise still normal) girl who wants to become an voice actress.

Ok, I separated the main cast into 2 main groups...because the series relies on this skill/ability distance between them to deliver the story: one which centres around the conflict between 'talent' and 'hard work'. The former group are geniuses in their craft, all of which are born with talents; the latter group being those who wishes to achieve their goals through sheer will. Life is unfair to them, as their hard work were repeatedly ignored, this being completely relatable to me.

Life is not fair. True words that no one wants to believe, and work hard to avoid submitting to; the raw human emotions of jealousy, doubt and fear of failure are all dealt with surprisingly objectivity and no-so-heart-warming ways in this show, but enough amount of silver-lining around these sickening grey clouds were provided to allow us some breathing room for hope to prosper (urgh...I think I just vomited at my own words).

What I find most striking about this series is Mashiro: the genius artist. Her character as a quiet girl with an born inability to properly express her feelings, makes it even more touching when her usually expressionless face leak tears, or a tiny twitch of her lips, which soon reveals a smile.

For that perfect final cry-fest...just you wait till episode 23.

Personally, since I have no knowledge of the Japanese language; save for a few phrases that are all too commonly used in anime; I have no reliable ground to judge the Japanese cast: but I can confirm that all the voices gel well with their respective characters; the emotionally distant Mashiro to the hyperactive Misaki. Perhaps the only disappointing aspect is the rather conventional rom-com/SOL soundtrack, which, while served their purpose, does not attempt to do anything more; something I demand for all film music and series soundtrack.

Animation in this series is sort of like Clannad-lite...but its unique colour palette of more bright colours and sequences of blending animated oil PAINTINGs are absolutely PERFECT. If you split the art & animation into different aspects for more fair judgement: what this show truly excels at is when comedy comes into question: a great show of unrestrained hyper-active character facial and body language truly makes those scenes enjoyable to watch. Background art is standard fare. With more regular scenes such as talking heads and walking, animation quality tends to dip down; albeit barely registering to a regular viewer to become an nuisance.

I recommend this series with the same enthusiasm as Clannad/After Story; both masterful in their own ways; yet both are impossible to rate above one another for me.