Dear Brother – Episode 1

Hello folks, and welcome to Wrong Every Time. Today I am delighted to announce we’re checking out one of the most essential anime series I’ve yet to see, Osamu Dezaki’s adaptation of Riyoko Ikeda’s Dear Brother. Both of these names are legends in their own right, who can rightfully be said to have shaped the course of their relative mediums. Ikeda was one of the key mangaka of what has been retroactively dubbed the Year 24 Group, a collection of female mangaka who elevated the ambitions of shojo manga, introducing new complexities of storytelling and pointed themes regarding sexuality, politics, and much else. Alongside Dear Brother, Ikeda also wrote the massively acclaimed The Rose of Versailles, a story set alongside the French Revolution that counts among the great works of shojo history, and even earned her a Legion of Honor from the French government.

And then, of course, there’s Osamu Dezaki. One of the greatest, most iconic directors in anime history, a man who essentially pioneered a visual vocabulary of melodrama. Dezaki’s influence on anime ranges far beyond individual techniques like his “postcard memory” freeze frames. His visual philosophy of drama, his deft employment of abstraction, and his manipulation of the frame via splitscreens, dutch angles, and shadows would all go on to influence countless future artists, from Tomino to Ikuhara to Shinbo. Any anime education is incomplete without a healthy dose of Dezaki, so I’m eager to dive into this beloved work.

As far as Dear Brother itself goes, my understanding of its narrative is “elite boarding school melodrama,” and I’m content to let the show itself flesh out that impression. Let’s get to it!

Episode 1

We jump directly into the OP, which immediately provides something of a statement of intent through this elegantly dressed yet shadow-faced young woman

Such ornately detailed and shaded drawings! I’ve come to greatly appreciate how often older anime prioritizes single beautiful frames over simplified designs that make for easy movement

A few key repeated images across this OP: the doll or young girl in a red dress with green eyes, and the young woman in a green dress, alongside these orbs that seem to gesture towards either pearls or tears. The “silver and gold” mentioned by this OP song is also echoed by a silver carriage and gold music box, making me think the singer’s offer to “show you my past” will also be relevant to the narrative as well

We open on a childhood memory of a girl meeting an older boy. Already, we see Dezaki’s manipulation of the frame’s neutrality in service of provoking some specific emotional effect: in this case, the way the scene blurs into indistinct smudges of color around the edges is a fantastic way of portraying this as a beloved but distant memory, where you can only remember the key details. Art design as evocation of the character’s perspective on the scene, and also simply a visually alluring effect, making it seem as if the rain in this scene is literally washing the paint away

The scene is recalled from the boy’s perspective some time later, as he wonders if the girl would also remember this encounter

Graceful match cut that naturally conveys the passage of time, as the spinning young girl is replaced by her spinning adolescent counterpart

The animation is actually quite fluid here, and the character expressions distinct

Man, the effect they’re using to convey sunlight falling on this house is really something. I assume those are painted rays of light on a separate cel layer, but the way they twinkle and their prism-like color blends make me think they really did shine a sun on this image

“Who in the world would wear ordinary clothes to their high school orientation?” Seems like we’re setting up our heroine’s drab, practical original personality, presumably to contrast with her eventual embracing of private school glamor and intrigue

Our heroine’s name is Nanako

The outside world is presented as one blinding pillar of light as Nanako opens the door, leading into our first ornately painted postcard memories. Dezaki productions are so generous

Love the contrast of stillness and rapid motion as Nanako heads to school, conveyed through the alternation between rushing train cuts and still pans over Nanako walking among the cherry blossoms. Once again, the giddy emotions of this moment are conveyed visually and temporally, through pacing and visual juxtaposition

“The Magnificent Ones”

Nanako runs into an apparent middle school friend, Tomoko, as they board the next train

The two reflect on how both their mothers demanded they wear uniforms for orientation, in spite of them picking a school that allowed regular clothes. A potential thread of tradition versus self-expression there

We learn that Nanako’s father is actually her stepfather, and her mother remarried when she was five years old. In typical Dezakian fashion, this first meeting is conveyed as a magic hour meetup on a lonely road, with flowers billowing in the breeze

Another luscious postcard memory as the lurching bus sends Nanako into the arms of an imposing stranger with billowing blond hair. Already it’s clear to see the sort of situations these stills are applied to, and how they emphasize the heightened emotions and stilled breath of our perspective character in those moments

The stranger is wearing a beautiful golden bracelet

Nanako is literally swept off her feet as the bus stops, allowing this stranger to physically draw her into the world of the school. The background goes all white as the two spin like dancers, seemingly emphasizing the passageway between Nanako’s mundane reality and this school’s heightened one

“When she spoke her voice was clear like a bell, yet also deep and soothing, like a gentle breeze blowing through my soul.” Damn, Nanako

Nanako and Tomoko are aghast to see no one else is wearing a uniform

A girl with vibrant dark hair immediately pins Nanako as an outsider

“You are cute and likable! Let’s become friends!” I do not trust this girl one bit. Getting strong Nanami vibes here

Her name is Shinobu Mariko

The students are collectively stunned by the appearance of another girl in an androgynous tracksuit, who they refer to as “Kaoru no Kimi,” or “Prince Kaoru,” drawn from a character in the Genji Monogatari. Shots present her as a literal beacon of light, tendrils of white emanating from her as the other students crowd around

Shinobu informs us she’s been away due to illness. The other girls breathlessly ask if she will continue her “club activities,” offering a nice touch of mystery here

Nanako keeps framing her reflections as if they’re addressed to her brother, but I assume the “brother” she’s referring to is that man from the initial memory, whoever he is

“Her lips are wet and shining like wild berries!” Nanako please contain yourself

The class rep is a classic beauty, with long blonde hair done up in elaborate curls. Shinobu introduces her as Ichinomiya Fukiko, or “Miya-sama,” and says that “she is our queen!” A whole lot of nods to royalty and noble society, in spite of this story’s relatively modern setting. I’m curious if that contrast is thematically important, or if this is just one of Ikeda’s preferred dramatic modes

Miya-sama is flanked by her distinguished “Sorority” members

Amused by this breathless explanation of the American sorority tradition. Probably not quite so glamorous as these girls think

Joining her sorority “is a ticket to a wonderful life at this school”

That majestic figure from the bus is currently playing piano with a rose in her teeth. Another of the school’s celebrities, apparently: Hana no Saint-Juste, named after the famed Jacobin and French Revolutionary who’d go on to help supervise the Reign of Terror. Quite a namesake!

It’s an alluring fantasy of high school they’re presenting, this mythical place with its secretive orders and larger-than-life upperclassmen

Alongside Miya and Kaoru, Saint-Juste is apparently the third and final of the school’s adored figures

Some wonderfully frantic animation as we check back in on Kaoru, who’s currently tearing up the basketball court. So I assume Revolutionary Girl Utena’s basketball scene is a direct reference to this one, which does much of the same work in establishing Kaoru’s relationship with the school

“It always rains on the days important to me.” Rain is just an inherent dramatic multiplier, Nanako. You’re probably gonna be dealing with a lot of it

A confident ojou laugh introduces us to Misaki, the daughter of a famous lawyer

Saint-Juste walks moodily past in the pouring rain, as you do

Apparently Saint-Juste’s real name is Asaka Rei. Nanako’s mind is already blooming with fantasies of them sharing another fated encounter

An odd exchange between Miya-sama and Saint-Juste – Miya’s chauffeur briefly stops beside Saint-Juste, and Miya tosses an umbrella out onto the wet road before speeding away. To this, Saint-Juste responds by crunching down on a handful of pills. So, some sort of tragic history there between them, along with a potential opioid addiction

We finally meet our Dear Brother himself, whose current work on a thesis marks him as a college upperclassman

“Small world, huh? With her going to Seiran…” So he’s got some history of his own with the school

And Done

Damn, what a rewarding first episode! Ikeda is clearly a master of intrigue, as I already feel myself fully compelled by the mysteries surrounding this school, and the strange icons at its center. In spite of this story’s real-world setting, Seiran feels like a mythical royal court, where great nobles clash and send tremors through the ranks of their adherents. And Dezaki is the perfect director to bring Ikeda’s story into animation, draping this larger-than-life drama in all the visual ornamentation it deserves, and thereby bringing Nanako’s felt experience of this story to life. Just an embarrassment of riches all around, and with so many hooks that I already feel impatient for the next episode. We’ve got a fantastic journey ahead of us!

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