FLCL is a masterpiece of expressive freedom, intricate animation, and exuberant direction. It’s a joy to behold. Beneath its fantastical exterior, the series tells a complete story of four young people emerging from darkness to embrace their future.
# Youth — From the World to the School
When you flip through the catalog of 90s anime, it's hard to find what we now call "school-life series." Most of the shows were adventure stories, with very few genuinely about "youth." The "youth" here doesn’t simply refer to having teenage protagonists. Using teenagers was a way to relate to the audience, making it easier for young viewers to identify
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with the characters. But just because a story revolves around teenagers doesn’t mean it resonates with the audience’s inner world. To truly connect with the audience, a story must reflect their thoughts, worries, and emotions. While saving the world or embarking on adventures in another realm is thrilling, these themes often don’t touch on the inner struggles of adolescence. So, let's focus on the concept of "youth" — works that explore the thoughts and feelings of young people.
"Evangelion" is a story about the pain of growing up, despite its outer layer of mega-robot battles. Beneath the bizarre, flashy exterior lies a core that delves into the experience of youth. However, the intense expression of these themes can be difficult to digest. Later works presented these ideas in a more straightforward and accessible way. Many of these stories share a common structure of "individual—school (society)—world." Older series often set their stage on a global scale, while more recent ones are confined to the school setting.
When a character is placed in society, the central focus is naturally on interpersonal connections and communication, with the plot driven by the contradictions between a character’s experiences and the realities of life, or between different characters. The world serves as a backdrop, its workings taken for granted, and there’s little questioning of existing social structures. But when a character is placed directly into the world and made to confront massive contradictions, they become profoundly isolated. At this point, the character may question their inner self, rebel against, or depend on social structures. In both "Evangelion" and "FLCL," the protagonists are outwardly faced with world-altering conflicts, yet everything they rely on is destroyed. Shinji has no support from his parents, school, or friends, and Naota in "FLCL" lacks guidance from teachers or family, with the people around him offering only false connections. Adolescents are depicted as walking alone through the world, living in solitude. Such narratives are difficult to craft because they revolve around extreme conflicts and settings. But this extremity is precisely what makes them so captivating. Not every writer can handle such grand, extreme scenarios, so naturally, many opt for more down-to-earth settings.
However, focusing on everyday life doesn’t necessarily mean leaning toward realism. In fact, I believe that realism isn’t always the best way to depict "youth." For instance, I would definitely categorize the "Monogatari" series as a story about youth, because like other works in this genre, it personifies the troubles and pains of adolescence as "oddities" that must be defeated to drive the plot forward.
# What does the work aim to express?
Many people describe this work as "stream of consciousness." Some believe it’s simply an exploration of adolescent sexual anxiety. One way to interpret the story is to abstract the narrative, focusing on the broader plot while considering character actions only in terms of their underlying motivations.
The core theme of the work is encapsulated in the final episode. The protagonist chooses to rebel — set against a backdrop of rock music, he resists the hand trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his brain, rebels against the seaweed-like eyebrows symbolizing adulthood, and even turns against his former love interest, Haruko Haruhara. By the end, he still pretends to be an adult, but someone (the class president, Ninamori Eri) finally understands him and accepts his immaturity by his side. I think this is perhaps the most likely outcome of youth — reconciling with the world (goodbye, all Evangelions). You can't live in a constant state of rebellion; after dealing with all these challenges, returning to society — or rather, stepping into it with dignity — isn’t such a bad thing.
## Mamimi Samejima
Mamimi was severely bullied at school. After being rescued by Naota's older brother during a fire, she fell in love with him. When Naota's brother left for America, she used Naota as an emotional substitute. After Naota also abandoned her, she began caring for a robotic dog named Ta-kun, which symbolized her inner emptiness and hatred. She exacted revenge on those who hurt her through this machine. In the end, Mamimi left the town and became a photographer, with her award-winning photograph being of Naota's silhouette from behind.
Mamimi is someone who lacks a sense of security. Her feelings toward everyone around her are essentially attempts to fill that emotional void, and at the root of this emptiness is the bullying she endured at school. In the first episode, her affectionate behavior toward Naota shocks the audience, yet she doesn't even know what he likes to drink or what kind of clothes suit him.
In episode two, her past is revealed. We learn that she nostalgically remembers the burned-down school and spends time at the riverbank where the bullying took place. In this episode, the robot Canti grows wings and ascends to the sky, defeating a monster that embodies her emotional pain. She becomes infatuated with Canti. What she "loves" is the act of being saved and protected, not necessarily the person behind it. She projects her feelings for Naota's brother onto Naota and idolizes Canti as a god simply because that power shields her from harm.
In the end, when she sees Naota fighting back against the world, rebelling against everything, she is moved by the sight of his back. She presses the camera shutter, marking her farewell to the past. This moment of inspiration earns her recognition, and she finally steps out of the shadows, leaving behind her painful hometown and venturing into the unknown.
## Haruko Haruhara
Haruko’s intensity, madness, and rebellion are vividly presented to the audience in just a few seconds. GAINAX has a remarkable talent for crafting unforgettable first impressions—capable of making you remember a character or a work forever within moments. This same sense of shock is also brilliantly executed in series like Kill la Kill and Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.
Her guitar, motorcycle, and violent behavior all embody her aggressive nature. Haruko is bold and exuberant, with eccentric actions that lend her an air of mystery. It's this rebellion, wildness, and enigma that make her Naota’s “youthful fantasy.”
She challenges the symbol of authority, a pharmaceutical plant, aiming to unleash a great cosmic power from within. What this power represents is open to interpretation, with different meanings for different people. Haruko strikes Naota’s head with a guitar, as if trying to extract something. Is she trying to awaken him? Or make him lose consciousness? What price does youth demand from the young? It's left for the viewer to ponder.
In the end, Naota lets go of the cosmic power and rejects Haruko. She leaves as purely as she arrived—like a fleeting dream of youth.
## Ninamori Eri
Eri possesses an inflated sense of self, largely due to her prominent family background and her position as class president. She forces Naota to participate in the school play, asserting her will over others. However, when her family undergoes turmoil and Naota firmly rejects her, defeating the embodiment of her pride, she cools down and begins to accept and understand others.
By the end, Eri knows Naota’s favorite drink and the clothes that suit him best. She becomes the person who understands him more than anyone else. Such is the transformation of youth—learning to see and appreciate others beyond oneself.
## Nandaba Naota
Naota and the robot Canti that emerges from his head are two sides of the same coin. One represents his confusion and cowardice, while the other embodies courage and capability. An idealized self that can handle the chaos of youth—who wouldn’t want that? But on closer inspection, this may not be such a good thing. Ironically, in battle, Canti is the cannon, while Naota is the expendable ammunition—waste to be discarded once the fight is over. This dynamic is mirrored in episode 4’s high-stakes baseball game: if you don’t swing the bat, nothing happens. The crucial hit is not made by Canti, but by Naota.
In the end, the real turning point occurs—not when Canti or Naota defeats the enemy, but when reality reaches out to the ideal, and the ideal merges with reality. Together, they destroy the enemy. Naota rebels against everything, and in the ensuing chaos, everything is destroyed—perhaps even youth itself. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the boy wanted to rebel, as if rebellion itself had become the purpose. Does this rebellion have meaning? No, don’t ask that—it's like asking if youth has meaning.
# Rock and Dinosaurs
The soundtrack is an undeniable highlight of FLCL, with the unforgettable rock music provided by The Pillows. The extensive use of rock music throughout the series complements its 4:3 low-saturation visuals, rebellious characters, and wild animation. It’s no wonder some describe the show as an extended rock music video.
The raw energy of the music syncs perfectly with the chaotic, youthful defiance portrayed by the characters. The soundtrack amplifies the series' themes of rebellion and coming-of-age, as if the rock anthems themselves are an extension of the characters’ inner turmoil and desire to break free from the constraints of their world.
《 LITTLE BUSTERS》
With the kids sing out the future
Maybe, kids don't need the masters
Just waiting for the little Busters
Upon seeing the image of a dinosaur, I couldn’t help but recall the ending of Calvino’s "The Dinosaurs":
> "As I walked, I gazed at the trees, rivers, and mountains, but I could no longer tell which had existed in the age of the dinosaurs and which had come after. Around some nests, wanderers camped. From a distance, I recognized the half-blooded girl; she was still as charming as ever, though she had grown a bit plump. I hid in the woods to avoid being seen. I watched her from afar. A little one, just learning to walk, trailed behind her, wagging his tail as he ran. How long had it been since I’d last seen a baby dinosaur? It was developing so evenly, filled with all the essence of dinosaurs, yet completely unaware of what that name even meant.
I waited for him in the clearing, watching him play, chase butterflies, and crack open pinecones to eat the seeds. I approached him. He was indeed my son.
He looked at me curiously. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘No one,’ I replied. ‘And you? Do you know who you are?’
‘Ha! Funny! Everyone knows—I’m a new one!’ he said.
Just as I expected, that was his answer. I patted his head and said, ‘Good for you.’ Then I left.
I crossed the valleys and plains, arriving at a train station. I boarded, blending in with the crowd of travelers."
“Dinosaurs” represent all things that fade into oblivion, once reigning supreme but now silenced, forgotten, until even their names lose meaning. Crossing the valleys and plains, I arrived at a train station. The phantom of youth boarded, slipping into the crowd of passengers.
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To the rebellious and confused little busters, this is a rock anthem dedicated to you, a tribute to the rock of youth.
Sep 12, 2024
FLCL is a masterpiece of expressive freedom, intricate animation, and exuberant direction. It’s a joy to behold. Beneath its fantastical exterior, the series tells a complete story of four young people emerging from darkness to embrace their future.
# Youth — From the World to the School When you flip through the catalog of 90s anime, it's hard to find what we now call "school-life series." Most of the shows were adventure stories, with very few genuinely about "youth." The "youth" here doesn’t simply refer to having teenage protagonists. Using teenagers was a way to relate to the audience, making it easier for young viewers to identify ... |
