Oh ODDTAXI, what a tangled web you weave. The lives of its disparate characters are now twisting together in all manner of subtle ways, even as their everyday experience promises nothing but isolation and disappointment. The eraser that Tanaka once coveted now rests in the hands of Odokawa, a gift from the mysterious Shirakawa. The dash cam footage of Yamamoto’s charge is now equally desired by Dobu, and may well solve the riddle of the mob daughter’s disappearance. And Mitsuya’s phone is presumably still lodged in Odokawa’s backseat, a glimmering key that may unlock the secrets of Yamamoto’s organization.
As a slow-burning mystery narrative, ODDTAXI is an airtight creation, using its focus on offhand conversations to gracefully seed all of its narrative turns. Clues pop up incidentally over the course of thoughtful, naturalistic dialogue, setting wheels in motions without ever drawing attention to themselves. The show is fascinating as a narrative puzzle box, yet all the more impressive for the fact that it isn’t even driven by that narrative.
Instead, the show burns most brightly during its rambling dialogues, full of character-rich personal details and poignant reflections on modern living. I could watch ODDTAXI’s cast grumble about their day for hours – with dialogue this insightful and authentic, it feels like a privilege to watch such vibrant, resonant characters in action. Good characters feel like people you could know – great characters remind you that we are all ultimately unknowable, recognizable sure, but capable of actions that feel simultaneously surprising and true to our nature. ODDTAXI is managing to soar on a narrative, character, and thematic level without shortchanging any of them, and I’m thrilled to see where it takes us next. Let’s get on board!
Episode 6
The episode stamp promises the return of Shirakawa, so I’m already pumped. Odokawa let her get much closer to him than he allows basically anyone else, and now he needs some answers
Oh shit, OP change. The “wooh-oohs” following the initial scene have been removed, cutting Mystery Kiss out entirely – and later on, Taichi’s sequence has also been removed. Taichi’s absence might imply that disappearing here echoes at least a temporary escape from the malaise of directionless existence – but the disappearance of the idol group seems to imply something darker
Imai is our first passenger today. Odokawa oughta stop letting this guy in
“You changed my life. In a manner of speaking, you’re a god.” ODDTAXI’s characters frequently seem to believe salvation will come in the form of one massive, transformative event, something that will set everything right in their life, and resolve their unhappiness. Generally, they see this event as their gateway back into the stories that life promised us: Imai and Ichimura want money, Kakihana wants the perfect woman, Taichi wants to be a hero, etcetera. In contrast, the salvation they actually find appears in the margins – an unexpectedly satisfying conversation, a small lucky break, an act of kindness from a stranger. The grand fantasy of 21st century success and fulfillment is a lie, but we can still find some happiness in this world, if we set our sights a little lower
Imai declaring he won a billion yen earns a sideways glance from Odokawa, a rare show of extreme emotion
“This is my first time telling someone in real life. I had to tell you, Odokawa.” You could say this is because Odokawa came up with the numbers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Odokawa was truly one of Imai’s closest real-world friends
Online friendships come with no strings attached, but as you spend more time in online spaces, you begin to realize how valuable those strings really are. Obligations convey genuine investment, and build a kind of trust that is difficult to replicate. As much as I appreciate my readers, I don’t expect them to be my support network, and couldn’t imagine walking the tightrope of attempting to extract the emotional validation I need from people I’m ultimately performing for, who can just unfollow the moment I become more stress than I’m worth
Imai is just walking around with his winning ticket, which Odokawa tells him is a recipe for disaster
“Isn’t there someone in trouble that you care for?” And we get a flash of Shirakawa in that golden light of the examination room. Talk to her, Odokawa!
“In that case, Odokawa, are you free right now?” Oh my god Imai
Imai is a waiter at a cabaret club. So he’s actively playing into the same system of intimacy-as-service that his idol works in, yet cannot see how artificial his relationship is? Poor guy
Imai sets him up with the VIP treatment, which Odokawa is of course deeply uncomfortable with. He has no desire to be insincerely fawned over like this
Meanwhile, Kakihana is thinking about spending more money he doesn’t have on a ring
Odokawa has half a dozen missed calls from Shirakawa, following his blunt declaration to “not get involved with me anymore”
Meanwhile, Tanaka is in a skull mask firing rounds into the club ceiling. It seems like things are speeding up now – the dominoes have largely been placed, and we’re ready for a cascade of plot turns. Finely tuned narratives like this are always such a joy to experience; it’s fun watching these pieces carefully set in place, and it’s even more fun watching them resolve, like some implacable Rube Goldberg machine. Making your plot’s turns feel inevitable is how you transform arbitrary conflict into glory or tragedy
Oh shit! The boar comedian takes an unexpectedly heroic turn, and actually tries to talk down Tanaka
“I thought it’d be funny if I got shot.”
Shirakawa is waiting at his house when he returns home with a broken car window
Further building up the mystery of Odokawa’s closet through his refusal to let Shirakawa inside
“Leaving something broken makes people likely to break it further. It applies to hearts, too.” Oof. ODDTAXI has such a powerful way of twisting idle reflections into poetry
Odokawa still feels betrayed and used, a pawn in her deception of Goriki. “Don’t use your feminine wiles on me.”
She dated Dobu about four years ago, took out a large debt from him, and had been paying him back through the stolen medication. Basically all stuff we could assume so far
As Odokawa feared, Dobu was the one who told Shirakawa to get close to him. In a world of false, mediated emotional connections, Odokawa thought he had found a genuine friend – but even that was a ploy, designed to play on his loneliness. Not only has Odokawa lost his friend, he’s also essentially been mocked as a person, proven to be just as desperate for connection as everyone else
Dobu’s full plan was to rob a bank, using Odokawa as his getaway driver
Odokawa keeps bitterly rebuffing all her apologies, making a point of only caring about the information. C’mon Odokawa, all our relationships are messy as hell, accept that there’s something real here!
She stills owes three million yen, and is essentially trapped in a permanent interest loop
“And besides, he’s a weak man in the end. I couldn’t just leave him.” The oppressor ranges from an impossible-to-deny giant to a poor, pitiful man who just needs a little help. It’s a common psychological trap, and heartbreaking to see Shirakawa so completely shackled by it
“I’ll apologize to Goriki. Because… because I love you.” “Don’t ever get involved with me again.” AAAAGGGGHHHH I AM BITING THROUGH MY FINGER BONES
Shibagaki the boar is now back on air, resentfully bragging about his near-death experience
“What have you been doing this week?” “I’ve been shooting my drama.” So his partner is moving even further up in the world, and is now getting dramatic roles
Kakihana’s been on a downward slide all episode long, conveyed entirely through silent cutaways from the main action. He’s now taking a loan from some extremely seedy-looking loan sharks
“I’ve been thinking lately that comedy that doesn’t hurt anyone is best.” “No way. I think it’s okay to hurt one person to make ten people laugh.” “It just makes people dislike you. Just look at the guys who are successful these days. They’re all amiable.” Atsuya isn’t wrong. To achieve success in the modern age, when your personality is a major part of your brand, you must sand off all aspects of yourself that do not appeal to the median audience. Whether you’re willing to do that, and whether you think success borne of erasing yourself is worth the cost, is another question
While Baba Atsuya is mobbed by young fans, Shibagaki is only approached by the manic high-schooler that always sends them negative comments. His deviation from the promotional norm attracts a certain kind of passionate response, but even then, this kid’s obsession feels more isolating than anything else. Shibagaki doesn’t want to be this kid’s truth-telling god, he just wants to speak his truth, and maybe be able to pay the rent
Taichi receives a video of the cabaret shooting, and of course immediately blames it on Dobu. His lust for recognition has transformed him into a toxic youtube prophet, directing all the unhappiness and dissatisfaction of his viewers’ lives into one convenient, attackable target. In our world, rather than crime, this is generally about politics – young men with a vague feeling of being attacked or out of place find pundits that validate those feelings, telling them that rather than needing to grow personally, they are perfect the way they are, and simply under attack by a vile conspiracy. It is far more comforting to believe there is a villain ensuring your unhappiness than that you are just plain unhappy – and that sense of dissatisfaction can foster a community within itself, tethering you all the more tightly to a regressive, self-aggrandizing worldview
Taichi takes this video as “proof that I’ve grown closer to becoming a god.” The boy is not in a good place. But it’s all one continuous feedback loop – as Taichi gives his audience the assurance they need, they offer back worshipful praise, telling him that he is right and good, and that this work is truly his path to glory
Odokawa and Dobu meet up. Dobu quickly deduces that the cabaret shooter was looking for Odokawa
The emergency lights of the tunnel they’re parked in offer a nice hue to this meeting, painting the whole scene in ominous red light that recalls Odokawa’s painful memories
“Why don’t we join forces?”
Dobu offers to ensure Goriki can return to practice, but Odokawa adds another condition: release Shirakawa. YESSSSS
Oh man, Odokawa is becoming such a perfect noir lead. He can’t trust Shirakawa enough to share his feelings, but he’ll risk his life to save her all the same
Odokawa will straighten out Taichi, while Dobu hunts the man with the gun, by dressing in his outfit on Halloween. Jeez, Halloween’s gonna be one hell of an episode, huh?
“It’s hard to explain, but there are people who are loved for being stupid.” Baba’s star is rising at the same pace as his commodification
“I bet not many people could say they dislike you.” “No, I think my partner hates me.” Popular acclaim has come at the cost of the one opinion he actually cares about
“You should cut ties with him.” In spite of the commercial world’s haze of positivity, it is ultimately more cutthroat and inhumane than a friend’s harsh honesty could ever be
Oh jeez. Atsuya turns down an end-of-year special to compete with Shibagaki in the comedy tournament they’ve been battling through all year. You can pretty much see the light dim in his manager’s eyes, as he gives up on Atsuya as a talent who’s too difficult to be worth elevating
Apparently Nikaido and Atsuya know each other. Love all these unexpected points of connection across our tightly knit cast
Nikaido likes that Atsuya “is the opposite of my excessive ambition,” and doesn’t actually want him to work too hard. This might be the first earnest conversation we’ve had with her, unless she’s playing Atsuya too
And for all that sacrifice, Atsuya still doesn’t have the time to meet up with Shibagaki and work on their material. It’s a hard life
And Done
So this is kinda shaping up to be one of the best anime of the decade, huh? This episode was as earnest, insightful, and almost lyrical in its prose as ever, while tying together all of our existing characters and threads in one way or another. It was also a deeply sad episode, though not in the brutal manner of something like Tanaka’s revolution – more resigned, as characters like Odokawa and our talk radio pair grappled with long-simmering anxieties, and acknowledged the idealism inherent even in their current, modest dreams. It contained a savage critique of the forced positivity of modern performance, and also deeply personal moments like Shirakawa crying over her lost companion, who she truly cared for in spite of the artifice of their meeting. ODDTAXI is taking on the entire world with acuity, sympathy, and grace, offering an expression of solidarity to all of us struggling with the alienation of modern living. Like so much of my favorite art, ODDTAXI has found something personal and true, and is determined to use its wisdom to make us all feel slightly less alone.
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