Hello folks, and welcome the heck back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am excited to announce that we are embarking on a new journey, and exploring a show that has been lighting up the internet for the last few months. That’s right, it’s time to check out Bocchi the Rock!, wherein social anxiety meets musical passion with hilarious results.

In a season that by all rights was destined to be dominated by Chainsaw Man, Bocchi has gone above and beyond in distinguishing itself, offering an impressive mix of thoughtful direction, impressive character acting, and regular feats of imaginative animated fantasy. Though I checked out the first episode near the beginning of the season, I’ve since then merely been admiring its theatrics via the excerpts posted by friends, and am eager to see for myself how all this nonsense comes together. Additionally, I also love performing music and frequently suffer from overwhelming social anxiety, so I’m sure there’ll be plenty to dig into on a more personal scale. Let’s quit with the rambling and get with the rocking then, as we explore the thunderous misadventures of Bocchi the Rock!

Episode 1

Opening with what feels like a quiet statement of character acting intent, with unusual attention paid to the irregular movements of this child’s hand pointing at the ceiling

“The girl who wonders ‘is it okay if I join in,’ and so misses her chance and ends up all alone.” Our introduction to Bocchi is an intimate and relatable childhood moment, visually emphasized through this mid-distance shot across the classroom, where Bocchi’s tiny figure is gradually blocked by those of her classmates, emphasizing her small presence and rapid disappearance. As I remember from the first time I watched this episode, one of Bocchi’s most obvious strengths is its dramatically purposeful layouts

“The girl who ends up alone at picnics, swapping pieces of her lunch with the teacher.” This show is fundamentally a comedy, but its comedy is built on a pointed understanding of isolation, anxiety, and loneliness. Rather than the strictly informative “I was always alone,” these highly specific memories sculpt a relatable portrait of her childhood. It’s a writing truism that it is specificity, rather than generality, which creates relatable characters

And of course, the color design is also evoking her general mood, with the whole composition drenched in a dull gray-blue filter

“Finds her phone filled with nothing but messages from her parents and coupon offers.” One again, that mention of coupon offers is one of those hyper-specific details that really helps turn an archetype into a relatable character

The character acting remains excellent as Bocchi shifts over on the couch to make room for her dad. Surprisingly detailed linework really brings her dishevelment home

“A band is a place where even an introvert can shine.” And so Bocchi is inspired

Even in incidental cuts like Bocchi walking upstairs, these layouts are working hard to impress a sense of volume, of genuine distance and space

Damn, her dad’s got a nice guitar! I like how one of the quieter elements of the fantasy presented by these band shows is “what if we all had really nice instruments”

We cut to three years later, where Bocchi is now performing insane finger tapping solos in her bedroom closet. God, I wish I’d gotten that good after three years of guitar – I’ve been playing the instrument for ten years now, and still don’t understand scales well enough to freestyle a solo (or the physical ability to play this solo even if it was tabbed out in front of me). I am not very good at instruments!

The OP song is great, and actually seems to be a Bocchi composition itself. Not only are the lyrics clearly all about her circumstances, but the lead guitarist has precisely the same sort of angular, math rock-adjacent style that Bocchi seems to prefer. It furthermore makes perfect sense to me that Bocchi would gravitate towards math rock, with its generally insular culture and focus on music technicality over outsized emotional expression

Incredible method of relaying exposition here, as Bocchi relates to us her daily practice regimen and total lack of social progress through a sad ballad she wrote

“Lyrics and music by me. From the closet with love.” This show seems to really understand rock weirdos – the music element isn’t incidental, the show is in part a love letter to awkward musicians

She’s been rocking up views online as “guitarhero,” prompting the hopeful “maybe it’s okay if I can’t handle real life!” The internet has been both a blessing and a curse for introverts, for precisely this reason

I appreciate this distinct art style they use for Bocchi’s memories – the linework is more simplified and employs greater variations in line weight, making it seem like it was quickly pencil sketched, while the rough color fills look more like watercolors than digital effects. The overall effect conveys the sense of an imperfectly recalled memory through the imprecisely realized visual design

“I look like a real rocker chick! The people can’t look away!” I appreciate that Bocchi isn’t simply all gloom all the time, and can get caught up in flattering fantasies as easily as depressing ones

Once again, the layouts emphasize Bocchi’s lack of presence in her classroom, this time using her tiny, frantic movements in the far back of the composition as a punchline to her “now people will definitely notice me!” declaration

And here again in the aftermath, this shot of Bocchi on the swings emphasizes her isolation through physical space, using the bars of the swing set to create a visual cage for her in the frame

She briefly relates to a lone salaryman before his loving family arrives. “Please forgive my presumptuous empathizing…” I’m really loving this script

“Ah, I broke 30,000 subscribers” feels like a sad joke in the context of this layout

In contrast, the next shot is clearly set up as an invasion of that swingset fence, as a blond-haired girl charges from behind the camera and vaults over the bars. Bocchi’s solitude has been invaded, and in precisely the way she was hoping: someone noticed she has a cool rocker look and a guitar

The girl’s name is Nijika Ijichi

The body language is less intensely realized here, but still all clear and purposeful, with Bocchi consistently turning down and away from this girl, as if she’s actively preparing to flee

Nijika needs her to play backup guitar for her band

As they walk towards the club location, Bocchi’s aggressively antisocial behavior swiftly begins to weird Nijika out. I quite like this; it’s fairly common for slice of life anime to accept completely bizarre behavior from their protagonists, and the lack of comment on that behavior from the secondary characters tends to render them unbelievable as well. I appreciate that the first normal person Bocchi spends time with isn’t just like “there’s something about this girl” with starry eyes, they are actually witnessing the same person we are witnessing

More delightfully voluminous layouts as the pair descend into this club space, with the slight dutch angle and fisheye effect on this composition emphasizing both the wide open floor and cramped ceiling of this chamber, and further bolstering the sense of Bocchi descending into a new world

The dark, stuffy atmosphere of this club makes Bocchi feel right at home

We meet Ryo Yamada, our blue-haired bassist. She appears to have a low-key personality befitting her color theming and instrument, while I assume the exuberant Nijika is the band’s drummer

Getting Yamada vibes from how often this show embraces low shots that only capture the characters’ legs, conveying the differences in their personalities through the differences in their unconsidered posture and body language

Though Nijika claimed Bocchi was only playing backup guitar, it appears there’s no lead guitarist in their group. That’s a whole lot of pressure, especially without vocals!

They tragically rob us of Bocchi’s first attempted group performance, but Nijika offers a ruthless appraisal of her efforts. Apparently, since Bocchi is only accustomed to playing alone, she has no ability to get in sync with her fellow bandmates. And since she never makes eye contact with anyone, she’s never able to correct her tempo, and instead just keeps charging ahead and playing faster by herself

Fortunately for Bocchi, that’s basically how it goes for anyone the first time they try to play with a group. Following a leader just requires different skills than focusing solely on your own performance; you have to learn how maintaining group momentum is actually more important than strict adherence to your own part

Oh my god, Bocchi actually tried to end the episode there. I’m sorry Bocchi, you’ve still got a few minutes of suffering left

“If they boo you, I’ll give them a bonk with my bass.” Ryo really does embody the bassist vibe

As Bocchi confesses her genuine desire to join a band, her head lowers almost entirely out of the frame, echoing her anxiety at revealing these secrets. This show’s direction is so purposeful and effective!

Nijika and Ryo both confess they’re fans of Bocchi’s online alias

“I always figured real life people didn’t care about me at all…” She clings to that 30,000 subscribers figure, but in truth, any degree of online praise will struggle to match the weight of one person you know saying they appreciate your work. Humans aren’t generally built to turn faceless numbers into self-worth, and frankly, those who actually are built that way are probably worse off for it. The days when I actively concerned myself with constantly self-promoting and writing hit tweets were hell psychologically, and I’m happy to now only occasionally feel that tug of “I should be marketing myself more aggressively”

It’s Ryo who finds the ultimate solution: Bocchi can play from inside a cardboard box. That still doesn’t solve the eye contact or band sync issues, but it’s progress!

“In middle school they called me ‘hey’ and ‘you there’…” Oh my god Bocchi

And the actual performance is terrific! Not only is the performance animation for everyone totally fluid, but they also take care to capture the ebb and flow of the performance, cataloging how Ryo often turns to Nijika to match their timings and transitions

After the performance, Bocchi excuses herself with the extremely relatable “actually, that’s my social interaction limit.” God, the idea of actually gaining energy from social interactions feels so fantastical to me

And Done

Well that was goddamn delightful! The production is just preposterously strong in basically all regards, impressing through its purposefully spacious layouts, inventive shifts in art style, and remarkably generous character animation. And the writing is just as good, with Bocchi already coming across as a particularly relatable strain of introvert, while leaving plenty of room for laugh-out-loud gags that all seem to feel more ruefully sympathetic than outright cruel. On top of all that, the creators’ clear reverence for music shines through, both through the convincingly band geek-esque personalities of our leads, as well as that impressive final performance. Beautiful animation, ruthless depictions of anxiety, and great rock tunes – what more could I ask for?

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