Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to get back into the second season of Kyoto Animation’s Tsurune, a production which has already leapt beyond the standard set by its impressive predecessor. From the premiere’s remarkably seamless storyboard to its personality-rich animation, to say nothing of the graceful composite drawing it all together, Tsurune S2’s first episode was a tiny masterpiece of animated drama. Though anime is often renowned for facilitating individual artist voices within a larger work, a show like this demonstrates just how powerful a unified production can be, with all of Kyoto Animation’s talented artists straining in the same direction, hoping to achieve something both simple and nearly impossible to convey: the felt experience of a human life.

Throughout that first episode, I felt the rush of emotions as the arrow’s song brought memories to the fore. I knew the frustration of not being able to convey my intent through my clumsy hands, and the elation of realizing a slight adjustment in form was all I needed. I shivered with impatience as I consented to delay kyudo practice, and sprang up with excitement as an impromptu practice session emerged. My favorite studio has woven its familiar magic again, and I’m delighted to be caught in its spell. Let’s see what wonders await in the next episode!

Episode 2

We open on a luxurious establishing shot outside our rivals’ school, which again demonstrates Kyoto Animation’s refusal to use CG models for background characters, even for a momentary shot like this. That honestly makes such a difference for me; there are so many modern shows where my assessment of their art design has to accept that every establishing shot is going to look like garbage, since CG crowd models have become the norm. Honestly, I’d much prefer older methods like drawing crowds as lightly featured blobs – that may not be strictly realistic, but it’s clearly evocative, and far less intrusive than CG clashing with traditional backgrounds

As always, the transitions feel remarkably natural and almost invisible. Here they actually seem timed to the speech patterns of this coach, with each brief statement accompanied by a cut closer to the speaker, as if we’re hearing his voice from the distance and walking towards it

The winners of regionals will receive a special invitation to nationals, a handy narrative contrivance to keep our rivals relevant after their defeat last season

Manji, one of the two redheads, requests to be taken off the team owing to his inconsistent performance

This show seems to be consistently playing with light contrasts, framing vibrantly sun-lit objects or terrain against deep shadows, as in this shot of the grass beneath the targets leading into the OP. It feels like an echo of kyudo’s own natural contrast of still darkness and brilliant motion, with archers often literally stepping forward from darkness to give their arrow one shining moment in the sun, before it lands safely in the shadows of the target

Just absurdly generous animation of Shu’s clothing folds as he dresses after practice

Seems Shu and his teammates are moving up to co-leads this season. A nice intimate moment here reveals how Senichi sees Shu as basically unreachable. Shu looks troubled by this; between this and his indifference to Manju’s choices in the previous scene, it seems easy to imagine that this season might involve Shu seeking the same honest camaraderie with his teammates that Minato has achieved

We follow Shu on his drive home. His imposing mansion offers another point of separation between him and his teammates

We meet his sister Sae, who greets him as “nii-sama.” High class indeed!

In spite of his generally reserved affectation, Sae can tell he’s troubled by something. And Shu smiles at this, grateful to have someone who actually does understand him. God, you can engage in such subtle human drama when you’ve got character acting this precise!

The two share dinner on a fancy dining table, with all of the other seats conspicuously empty

Sae’s got a nice design. I like how the female characters tend to be a bit more angular and realistic in KyoAni’s boy-centered shows

And then the sound design takes center stage, as the music cuts alongside Shu’s reflections on “making a mistake,” which simultaneously draw his mind back to that final, failed shot against Minato. While Tsurune’s first season literally explained the significance of the sound of an arrow in flight, season two is weaving that sound directly into its drama, using it as consistent dramatic punctuation

Extremely good fluffy dog animation for Seiya’s pet. I like the looseness of form here; like with those soccer cuts from the first episode, I appreciate these distortions in design that convey the particular energy of a movement

Kaito and Nanao demonstrate the new ease of their rapport as they head to school. They’re fairly oppositional personality types, but now also clearly trust each other

Oh man, we’re already at regionals! Not a wasted moment this season

A brief reunion between Kaito and the boys he scared out of kyudo offers another careful union of storyboarding and character acting, with Kaito’s nervous tics complimented by brief flashes of the past, emphasizing how close that sense of guilt and regret feels in this moment

We get several seeds of a Ryouhei conflict as well; him announcing his exit to an unresponsive door at home, leading into Rika pointing out how he seems uniquely comfortable with women for his age

“We have our normal calm feelings, but also those special feelings that come from a day like this. It’s probably best to have both.” Minato’s words echo the lighting motif I mentioned at the beginning, how kyudo embodies a combination of dark stillness and energetic light

And then the lighting itself echoes this contrast; the moment Minato smiles and affirms his desire to hit well today, the group transition from a darkened hallway to a brightly lit external passage

Another clean visual trick as we jump to the brothers, with an arrow’s string in the foreground offering a visual indicator of Mangi and Senichi’s emotional divide

Oh my god, this goofy-ass run cycle for Man and Sen running away from Sen’s replacement. There is nothing like the comedic timing in a KyoAni show; Takemoto was absolutely the best at it, but the studio’s other directors aren’t far behind

Love this musical track as the teams take the stage. A light scattering of individual pulled strings, as if the music itself is rehearsing and settling into position for the drama to come

For this tournament, Sae tackles the role of newcomer, giving us someone for other characters to explain the rules to for the benefit of us in the audience

Boarding and animation this strong makes for such elegant storytelling. Rather than Shu’s butler outright acknowledging he recognizes Minato, two quick flashback images and a shift in his expression do all the work, allowing the dialogue to instead offer a dramatic contrast through Sae’s recognition of the school. As a result, this incidental moment rings with a sense of ironic tragedy (Sae oblivious to their distance, the butler all too aware of it), as opposed to simply conveying plot information

The improved sound design really comes through during our team’s shots; you can actually hear the different tone for each of their releases

Love this quick cut to the girls as Kaito makes a clean hit, which features each of them celebrating in a distinct, character-reflective way, even down to the contrast between Rika’s determined smile and Yuuna’s overenthusiastic grimace

Kazemai makes sixteen hits; Ryouhei misses two, while both Nanao and Minato miss one

Ryouhei is missing an arrow, and Minato suggests they ask Shu for a spare. Through this exchange, Shu is reminded of the closeness shared by Minato and his teammates, which contrasts sharply against the unreachability that Sen described. Thus he is incentivized to follow in Minato’s footsteps, leading into him clapping the backs of his teammates

And our gray-haired menace at last introduces himself as Nikaido. Apparently he’s got some history with Minato

And Done

Ah, what a feast that episode was! After the first episode offered an overall refresher on the world of Tsurune, this episode immediately got deep into the weeds of this season’s emergent emotional drama, offering little sparks of tension or ambiguous seeds of future conflict across most of our principle characters. And it was able to do all that while remaining light and energetic, never stopping the overall course of the tournament drama to ruminate on one or another personal conflict. When your storyboarding and character acting are this elevated, drama can emerge naturally from an idle glance, an awkwardly held pause, or even the juxtaposition of one cut against the next. Moment by moment, this episode casually embodied animated storytelling at its finest.

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