Well folks, today we’re diving into something entirely different. I normally keep things pretty anime-centric around these parts, or at least fiction-specific more generally, but today we’re branching out to something new: a video episode of the Japan Railway Journal. The Japan Railway Journal is Japan’s episodic NHK documentary on the various train lines of Japan, and today we’ll be exploring the Yamanote Line – the loop that services the Tokyo region, handling a ridiculous density of commuter traffic every single morning. And if you’d like to follow along, you can easily watch the episode yourself!

To be honest, I don’t have that much personal experience with trains, and was initially somewhat at a loss as to how I’d “evaluate” a charming but on the whole relatively straightforward educational documentary. The answer I fell upon was to just try and keep things pretty informal, and do my best to enjoy the episode alongside all of you all. Most of my own train travel has come in the form of riding my home city Boston’s various local rails to and from old jobs, which isn’t the most glamorous of experiences. That said, even if my country is too brain-poisoned by fear of government to invest in effective public transportation, the fundamental allure of trains has always made sense to me.

I’m not naturally a person who desires to be the center of attention. Frankly, if our modern culture didn’t demand artistic creators also be public personalities, I’d happily hide behind my keyboard all the time. The idea of being a passenger in a larger journey sounds far more appealing to me; of watching the transforming slope of the land as it passes, and feeling inescapably attuned to both the great majesty of the world and our smallness inside it. It’s a similar appeal to looking out a snowy window in the middle of winter, contentedly snuggled in your blankets.

The Yamanote Line isn’t really one for experiencing the sprawling allure of nature, though it certainly conveys our interconnectivity within a far greater society. Likely my favorite moments of this episode simply followed these trains as they shifted like minnows through the current of Tokyo traffic, their tiny windows echoing the thousands upon thousands of portals all around them, stacking towards the sky in great pillars of human habitation. At night, nestled in a depot among dozens of their siblings, these trains felt like a calming testament to the sheer scale of modern cities, and our ability to direct them through collective effort and innovation. There’s something about the reliable certainty of a well-managed train, and how it solves such a core human conflict with such grace, that makes you feel like things will just maybe be okay.

This episode is more of a journey and educational overview than a tonal experience, and it does a fine job of introducing the priorities and design fundamentals of the Yamanote Line. Relevant facts are seeded neatly into discussions on the train’s designs, scheduling, and purpose, while the focus on both upkeep and new projects emphasize that public works like this are always works in progress, and reflective of the living cities they inhabit. Documentaries are generally far more compelling when they’re grounded in the same sort of dramatic conflicts and relatable characters you associate with fiction, and though Japan Railway Journal is certainly a bit more dry than something like an Anthony Bourdain show, it still clearly understands the necessity of humanizing and dramatizing its lessons.

In this episode’s case, our investigations are given a clear human face in the form of Nathan Berry, who acts as our presenter and narrator. Nathan and his associates’ investigation of a major new station to be opened, named the Takanawa Gateway, acts as the framing device for this episode’s drama. We’re introduced to Nathan outside the station’s construction work early on, creating a sense of anticipation for exploring the strange monolith behind them, which the show holds as a hook until its third act. Nathan’s voice then carries us through an investigation of the train as it currently works, using conceits like the Tokyo Operations Control Centers’ management of the morning rush to add some dramatic tension throughout.

That visit to the control center illustrates the other main way this episode adds a human element to its educational content – by framing the entirety of Tokyo as an interconnected living organism. Tokyo is a rich and beautiful city, and this episode’s scattered footage of trains on their lines does a fine job of conveying the majesty of the city in motion. But as we’re introduced to all the steps that keep Yamanote trains running, the true scale of a task like keeping a city moving gradually comes into focus. Little maps situate our various visits within the larger Tokyo frame, consistently emphasizing how these train lines are the arteries of the city, while thorough breakdowns of maintenance tasks demonstrate the unseen complexities of perpetual upkeep. And yet, the ultimate effect comes across as less anxiety-producing than genuinely soothing.

There’s a sort of zen appeal to watching professionals do work they’re very good at well; a sense of rightness, a brief illusion that the world actually makes sense. At least this small fragment of activity reflects that we can actually be pretty good at what we do, and that we can work together to accomplish far greater things. If any train on the line is delayed, the trains further ahead also begin to stagger their stops, naturally deflating any bubbles of delayed passengers before regaining their position. Watching the trains of Yamanote adjust their stops to account for delays, maintaining the congruity of the whole, acts as a gentle reminder of our collective potential.

The episode culminates in investigations into two separate ongoing projects – the construction of the Takanawa Gateway, and the train services’ ongoing experimentation with self-driven trains. The first acts as a natural culmination of the episode’s conflation of train service with the life of the city itself, framing the construction of this gateway as a thoroughly modern project that nonetheless reflects both the history of its location and Japan’s overarching architectural sensibilities. The second, though also reflecting these systems’ grace and interconnectivity, ends on a quiet acknowledgment that self-driving trains are a necessary concession to Japan’s dwindling population. To investigate a city’s transportation network is to investigate life as it is lived; the circumstances of our larger networks both inform and reflect our culture, and Yamanote reflects a city both in conversation with the past and fully prepared for the future.

On the whole, I had a very pleasant time with this episode, and think I might actually watch some more in my own time. To be honest, I’m so enraptured by Japan’s architecture and countryside that simply watching its trains alone is enough of a hook for me. That said, I certainly don’t mind the show’s enthusiastic investigations into the mechanical elements of train travel, and appreciated how well this episode illustrated the natural links between travel and culture. We are made up of all that we experience, and trains provide the dual experience of their immediate, mechanical reality and the ways they shape and reflect the societies around them. Coming or going, hopeful or forlorn, purposeful or without destination, we all live lives of transition, staring out the window as the cities pass. We think ourselves the story, but should always remember we live within greater, collective stories as well.

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