Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am thrilled to be getting back to ODDTAXI, a show whose premiere impressed the hell out of me. ODDTAXI’s dialogue is simultaneously naturalistic and idiosyncratic, reflecting an author who’s clearly attuned to the quirky nuances of everyday conversation, but still has a strong voice of their own. The show’s wry, deadpan sense of humor evokes a world-weariness that I can strongly relate to, and its characters have not just quirks, but also voice and perspective – clear worldviews and distinct ways of expressing them.

As a medium that generally involves expert animators adapting stories written for an adolescent audience, writing tends to be anime’s weakest component – but ODDTAXI’s dialogue has both a distinctiveness of style and grace of delivery that caught my ear from the start, and I’m eager to see where this story goes. On top of that, the show’s direction seems to draw deeply from film drama and noir, accenting the understated script with some expressive flourishes, employing graceful transitions that keep the drama flowing, and generally letting the cold beauty of this world filter through.

Finally, ODDTAXI’s overarching story is being conveyed with refreshingly confident pacing. There’s no rush to get to the gory details; instead, the underlying not-quite-rightness of this scenario seeps in through the cracks, as incidental conversations are ornamented with new details about the missing girl. Pacing like this reflects an author who trusts their audience to pay attention, rather than one who is desperate to keep their focus. The author trusts that we can embrace this story for its distinct voice and grace of delivery, rather than demanding a parade of shiny narrative baubles until we’re emotionally hooked. As a result, the work feels more like an organic, living organism, portraying life without ornamentation until the key narrative beats arrive. It’s an expression of faith you generally see more in art cinema than anime, but I’m always delighted to be treated with this sort of authorial respect (see also: every Tomihiko Morimi adaptation). I’ve probably gushed enough at this point, so with my feelings so far made abundantly clear, let’s get right back to ODDTAXI!

Episode 1

I notice now that the first episode is called “The Eccentric Driver,” but frankly the driver didn’t strike me as all that eccentric. It’s more like a tongue-in-cheek joke; the people around him fill in eccentricities in the place of his silence, because that’s more interesting than the alternative. Naturalistic dialogue can frequently come across as “eccentric” to an audience primed for narrative-focused dialogue – though I suppose it’s eccentric enough for a service industry worker to be as blunt as Odokawa

I’ve become a somewhat shameless OP-skipper lately, but I don’t think that’s likely to happen with this one

All these quirky incidental characters, and then the retreating back of the victim. Others have already drawn the comparison, but this series resembles Twin Peaks in a fair number of ways, from its structure to its pacing to its style of dialogue

“How to Spend a Long Night.” Our new episode title instantly evokes ODDTAXI’s general sense of world-weary fatigue, and its focus on the ways we get through the day, one moment at a time. Though there is major narrative conflict brewing in the background, for now, the show is portraying the everyday struggle of getting through the work week with fascinating acuity

We meet up with Odokawa and Kakihana at a sauna, where Odokawa reveals he traded numbers with the alpaca Shirakawa

Shirakawa actually wants to meet up with him sometime. I can already see Odokawa’s appeal; he’s certainly gloomy, but that reflects his general frankness, which can be very refreshing. It’s nice to have a friend who says blunt, interesting things (I say, wondering how far I push my friends’ tolerance for this)

Ahhhh, I love this sequence of Odokawa and Shirakawa just riding in silence, with only the inane patter of the talk show hosts breaking it. Neither of them are truly listening, but the radio provides a slight form of resistance, amplifying Shirakawa’s difficulty in breaking the silence. A dead-on depiction of a common yet resoundingly narrative-unfriendly circumstance, once again employing that neat trick of using background noise to amplify the intensity of a silence. And the talk show hosts are even providing a bit of a winking underline to this whole situation, discussing how their act is dictated by popular appeal, as they preside over a sequence that is so emphatically focused on immersive artistry over popular appeal

Finally, when the announcers take a break, Shirakawa is able to ask “do you feel awkward?”

Odokawa clearly is feeling a bit awkward – Shirakawa has to drag responses out of him, and at times answer herself

“You’re still only 41. Your life is just getting started.” Perhaps the first time that line has ever been uttered in an anime

Shirakawa is unusual in her own right, continuing to push on these personal questions. While she respected the silence created by the radio noise, she’s generally quite forward in pursuing her aims, and pushes until Odokawa actually comments on it

Ooh, I love this. Shirakawa says she regrets taking out student loans, rather than relying on her parents – and when Odokawa asks if she’s paid it off, she ambiguously replies that she has. Rather than regretting the debt, it seems like Shirakawa regrets her earlier insistence on stubborn pride, rather than accepting the presence of her parents. When we’re young, we want to rebel – as we age, we learn that distance from our parents comes naturally, and it’s actually closeness with them that is fleeting and valuable

They have such a lovely, stop-and-start rapport. Their conversations have rough lingering edges, but each of them clearly enjoy the other’s company, and so they stumble over those speed bumps and then awkwardly transition to new topics. It’s charming, and also uniquely true to the experience of making an effort to get to know someone

In general, narrative conversations assume a level of flow and mutual understanding that rarely exists in real life, because few narratives are enhanced by adding all the awkward pauses of actual speech. But as a show so grounded in the intricacies of interaction and modern living, ODDTAXI is the perfect venue for this sort of quirky, realistically rambling dialogue

Odokawa asks for a picture of the person Shirakawa likes, and she hands him her phone with his own photo on it. I love her! No drawn-out drama, just “hey, I like you.” Anime about adults are so powerful

Back at the sauna, Kakihana starts pestering Odokawa about his own feelings. But Odokawa’s feelings are complicated, and he’s not the type to share them half-formed

Kakihana starts giving Odokawa some truly awful advice about “what women want,” failing to understand that Shirakawa likes him because he is always himself

We return to Kabasawa, still desperate to go viral, still gloomily obsessing over every failed post. Believe me Kabasawa, when you stop caring so much, twitter becomes so much easier; even with my twitter following actually connected to my income, I still had to just stop paying attention to the numbers for my own mental health

Even the “successful” tweets are followed by a series of angry personal insults, while the overarching framing here underlines how virality is a system you game for exposure, not a reflection of genuinely insightful or compelling content. This is a ruthlessly frank exploration of social media

Oh my god, he printed out his Odokawa tweet and pasted it on his wall

We finally meet the idol Rui, as well as one of her fans, Imai

Rui’s debut didn’t go as well as hoped. I can already see the potential for incredibly thorny drama here – Imai is currently chatting with her like they’re friends, but if her career takes off, the parasocial nature of their relationship will become far more clear, and disallow this sort of closeness. Just like how Kabasawa’s story illustrates the false intimacy of social media, it seems this narrative will focus on the false intimacy of modern parasocial relationships. At the same time, Odokawa himself has great difficulty connecting with others; the takeaway isn’t “the youth are wrong,” but that human connection has always been hard, and modern culture has simply found new ways for us to feel alienated

“Mitsuya’s dancing has gotten a little sloppy.” “She works part-time while taking lessons and streaming from home.” And yeah, this work is hard. Anyone who’s trying to make it as a personality is hustling like this, and frequently the seams start to show. As I mentioned, I can’t really do the “social media thing” anymore, because it’s just frustrating, insincere labor that leaves me deeply anxious

Her backup singers have already lost hope for success. “I started my career maskless, and now I’m here”

These two have a whimsical patter that feels a bit less grounded in reality, and more like a comedy routine. It’s clear this writer has a fondness for these sort of frank characters, and also that he’s drawing on the manzai traditions embodied by characters like the radio pair. And as the recent director interview reveals, all the dialogue was recorded before the animation was created, allowing for the most naturalistic possible vocal deliveries

That interview also includes another expected reveal: the show is about animals precisely because that allows it to handle tough topics in a true-to-life way, through the distancing effect of the designs

After work, Nikaido (“Rui-tan”) laments her lack of more fans like Imai

Imai is broke from buying merchandise, and requests a discount trip to Shinjuku

Oh my god, it’s even worse than that – he’s broke from buying lottery tickets, which he plans to use to get the money to buy more merchandise

Imai’s “after struggling for two years, they finally debuted” earns a “that’s not very much struggling” from Odokawa. A fair point – anime’s hyper focus on adolescence means most of its “long-term struggles” only take a year or two

Imai wastes no time in announcing the sense of superiority and ownership he feels for being an “original fan”

“I’d rather win the lottery and make Rui Nikaido all mine”

“A long time ago, I survived an accident that should have killed me.” Once again, a brief flash to the crimson memories of that time

Imai is gregarious, and can’t see when he’s being impolite. He’s too caught up in his own happiness to notice Odokawa’s mood. It seems like he assumes the parasocial relationship he has with Rui should be the default – he gets to act all buddy-buddy with these people, but still ultimately has a financial hold on them forcing them to be polite back

Oh my god, Shirakawa’s profile image is her in a chair, looking away from the camera. I love her

Hah, he ends up taking a fair from the radio performers themselves

“I’m dead last at comedy among all people?” “So, how’s your girlfriend.” These two feel like the most undiluted form of ODDTAXI’s halting, deadpan conversations, which become their own form of comedy

Oh god, what a brutal end to this charming sequence, as the donkey learns that he alone has gained a regular part on a daytime show

And we end on SUSPENSE, as Odokawa is held at gunpoint by the presumed killer. No wasting time!

And Done

Ahhhh, this show is just an absolute delight. Every single scene offers a rich, distinct, and incredibly nourishing conversation, as the unique nuances of these characters are teased out, and the writer flexes their profound talent for character voice. ODDTAXI is a character and dialogue-lover’s feast, overflowing with characters who possess both distinctive, frequently self-aware personas, as well as complex underlying values and motivations. As our quasi-arbiter of these incidental meetings, it would be easy for Odokawa to hang above the fray – but he’s one of the most fascinating characters of all, and extends ODDTAXI’s thematic commentary from modern alienation to the human condition more generally. The evocative melancholy, the sharp human insight, and the profound love for people in all their fractured richness – these are some of my favorite priorities within fiction as a whole, and ODDTAXI is embodying them with playfulness and skill. I’m eager for the next one!

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