Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to jump back into the misadventures of Bocchi and her friends, as we explore the second episode of Bocchi the Rock! Well, I say friends, but truthfully you couldn’t call them more than acquaintances at this point. Bocchi simply lacks the confidence or comfort level to interact on any level more familiar than a hostage negotiating with its captor, and so it’s a little tough for real camaraderie to develop. And that itself is one of the things I loved best about that first episode: it wasn’t simply “wacky girl finds friends,” it was “girl with painfully realistic portrayal of anxiety finds people willing to tolerate that for the sake of a successful performance.” Some of my favorite moments from the premiere were those that genuinely acknowledged how Bocchi’s nature would impact her life, as when Nijika briefly considered abandoning her, or when Bocchi herself turned down a post-performance chat because she’d simply used up all her social energy.

Alongside its refreshingly frank portrait of anxiety, that premiere was elevated tremendously by its manifest production strengths. The layouts which, through their management of character blocking and overall spatial configuration, managed to visually convey Bocchi’s journey from isolation to a vast new world. The energetic character animation, boasting infinite ideas for contorting Bocchi into shapes that better articulate her mental state. Heck, even the show’s moment-to-moment sense of timing and visual-aural synchronicity is remarkable, whether it’s applied to something like using a Bocchi original to score a sad montage, or to illustrate how Nijika and Ryo are in mental sync on the stage. Bocchi the Rock! hit the ground running with an altogether remarkable premiere, and I’m eager to see how our anxious heroine develops. Let’s get to it!

Episode 2

Opening on a big dog face right in the foreground is always a good idea. Even this off-kilter establishing shot speaks to this show’s uniquely considered approach to timing and visual juxtaposition; regardless of what you’re transitioning from, this shot is an abrupt and surprising intrusion, tripping the audience over right from the moment they’re asked to return to Bocchi’s headspace

Bocchi has made herself an ice bath, and appears prepared to die in it. Who left this girl to her own devices

Excellent Bocchi faces right from the start, as expected

Man, this OP really has some RIFFS, huh? Most guitar rock in anime trends towards basic pop-punk with standard strummed chords, so I appreciate that this song actually has a couple energetic guitar lines, something that a genuine guitarist like Bocchi could sink her teeth into

Nijika proposes a meetup the day after their performance, but Bocchi is too insecure to step into Starry without Nijika beside her to prove she belongs. Another relatable articulation of anxiety, which can often come in the form of repeatedly challenging your own credentials to go anywhere or intrude on anything. I’ve definitely spent my share of minutes sitting on the curb outside some event or destination, attempting to mentally convince myself it wouldn’t be a disaster to walk inside

Also appreciate Nijika’s goofy LINE emotes. Seeing what emojis and memes characters share via text has become a reliable way of getting a little more context on their personalities in modern anime

Nijika and Ryo come across her pacing in circles outside the entrance, and Ryo of course wants to stop and enjoy the performance for a while longer

From their first moments sitting down together, it’s obvious how Nijika carries the energy of the group. Ryo is comfortable with her, but simply not a gregarious person, and so Nijika commands the floor

Ryo brought an icebreaker game to lighten the mood. They’re striking a good balance with Ryo; she’s definitely the oddball of the group, but still falls into that realistic territory of a high schooler who’s comfortable with their own eccentricity

Bocchi reveals she commutes two hours to high school each way, simply because she wanted a school where she could completely escape her past. The high school reinvention trope aligns quite conveniently with Japan’s system of choosing which high school you apply to

Another relatable shard of the social anxiety experience, as Bocchi apologizes for not having interesting stories to tell the others. Extreme anxiety tends to foster an insular lifestyle that leaves you without much to separate your day to day experiences, which in turn can help fuel a stronger sense of believing you’re unworthy of interacting with others, or simply too boring to keep their attention

Nijika reveals Ryo has no other friends, and Bocchi briefly believes she’s discovered a kindred soul, before realizing that Ryo is simply more comfortable alone. This is one aspect of Bocchi’s experience that I can’t particularly relate to; I’m definitely the Ryo type, and am happy to spend plenty of time alone. Luxurious visual articulation of Bocchi’s petty, melodramatic reaction to this realization: in her mind, this betrayal is conveyed as a massive earthquake, irreparably separating the lonely and the loners

“Bocchi-chan, let’s enjoy the conversation!” Oof, the encouragement to stop being such a bummer is always a heavy blow

Nijika likes punk and Ryo likes techno, which seems appropriate: Nijika’s all about boisterous emotional outbursts, whereas Ryo the cool bassist prefers consistent, repeating grooves

Bocchi likes any songs that don’t trigger her “seishun complex,” ie any songs that don’t talk about summer love, high school friendship, and other experiences that are utterly foreign to her

“Sometimes I find out a band I like was popular in school, and they feel like total strangers to me.” Ah, clinging to artists as the sirens of your soul to push back against an unhappy external world. I can vividly, and with significant embarrassment, recall the era when some unreciprocated high school crush prompted me to decide the only decent love songs were the ones about how love is a lie

They speak of the “runaway guitarist” who was supposed to be their vocalist. Even by the blank outline in this band shot, you can recognize her as the red-haired girl who noticed Bocchi’s guitar last episode

Bocchi is jealous of Ryo’s confidence. The contrast between them demonstrates the arbitrary cruelty of social anxiety: Ryo is a significantly more unusual person than Bocchi, but she’s comfortable with herself, and that makes everyone else comfortable with her

We get a tidy explanation of ticket quotas for local bands, complete with handy diagrams. I’m happy to see this show actually digging into the specifics of local band culture and commerce; fans only see the performances, but the backend of playing clubs as a local band involves a lot of negotiating and thankless gigs, with very little hope of making any real money. If this show is committed to actually conveying the experience of being in a band, illustrating these fatiguing realities is essential

Establishing these facts should presumably also help establish a road forward for Bocchi, as she gains competency in these fields, and begins to push back against her anxiety via these new sources of confidence. Directly challenging your anxiety is rarely effective; I’ve found it’s easier to cultivate reasons to be proud of myself than just shouting at my brain to stop making me feel bad

Nijika suggests getting jobs to simply pay for their next quota, which of course terrifies Bocchi

Incredible fantasy of Bocchi freaking out as a convenience store clerk. I appreciate that the animators fully abandon any concept of Bocchi being cute, and let her twist into this bizarre cryptid form as she dissociates. Also like the continuing gag of her just being physically stuck like that for the rest of her life, up to her death sentence for creeping out the customer

The other two suggest she work at Starry with them, and Bocchi is too anxious to decline. I appreciate the persistent articulation of this point: sometimes social anxiety expresses itself as an unwillingness to disappoint anyone, leading you into situations that only make you more anxious

Apparently Ryo is both rich and highly irresponsible with money. Well, you always need at least one group member with a private beach or something

We jump back to that ice bath, now contextualized as Bocchi’s desperate attempt to catch a cold before being forced to work

Another nice tilted overhead layout, which exploits the light from Nijika’s kitchen window to create a bright and cozy atmosphere

“So you’re the new part-timer? You should have just said so.” Ah, to be so carefree as to let mental impulses travel directly from first intent to your lips, without several stops to negotiate if those words will make everyone think you’re crazy and hate you forever

Ooh, I love the looseness of form in the character acting as Nijika shows Bocchi around the club. A clear contrast of personalities in Nijika’s swaying, lackadaisical body language versus Bocchi’s hunched posture and rapid shaking

Nijika’s sister seems to recognize Bocchi as guitarhero, but says nothing

Bocchi vacillates between triumph and terror as she is taught more aspects of the job, accompanied by a beautifully animated field of blooming and wilting roses. These animators really put 110% into every idle gag of this show

From the odd, zoning-related designation of this club as a restaurant to the palpable shift in atmosphere from load in to a band being on stage, they’re really nailing all the little details of a convincing basement club

Nijika is doing a tremendous job of accommodating Bocchi’s anxieties, and attempting to make her feel welcome at this club

A key moment for Bocchi. Watching the crowd and band in sync during this concert, she vows to improve herself so she can create similar experiences. This is important: wanting to improve yourself for your own sake is far stronger motivation than simply desiring to avoid disappointing others

“Having you here will make my memories of today’s concert even more fun.” And again, perfect encouragement from Nijika. Not just “it is okay that you are here,” but a genuine “I was happier because you were here”

And Done

Oh my god, that was nerve wracking! I know I said that Bocchi’s distinctly relatable exploration of social anxiety was one of its great strengths, but even I was ready to flee the scene and enjoy some extended alone time after that exhausting first day on the job. And alongside Bocchi’s feelings, I was happy to see how much care was taken in articulating the incidental quirks and unique atmosphere of a local club, further demonstrating this production’s commitment to truly being a local band drama, and not just a comedy featuring a local band. All that plus a generous array of visual Bocchi meltdowns made for a thoroughly satisfying episode. Do your best, Bocchi!

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