Hey folks, and welcome on back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to return to the continuing trials of our long-suffering Bocchi, who has found herself in yet another moment of crisis. After the brief elation of learning their band was good enough to perform at Starry, Bocchi was hit with a terrifying new trial: selling five tickets of her own to promote the concert. With some quick mental math proving she indeed lacked the requisite family members to keep this in-house, Bocchi is now faced with the terrifying prospect of talking to someone she hasn’t talked to before, and convincing them that Kessoku Band is worth their time.
It’s a big step up from the rigidly structured interactions of working the Starry concession stand, and will likely demand Bocchi act like she actually believes in her music around strangers. That’ll certainly require some strained performance, but to be honest, that’s a lot of what personal growth in terms of social development actually is. We fake confidence until we realize we’re not faking it anymore, flinging ourselves out into the world one wild, uncertain leap at a time. Bocchi’s already grown enough to feel comfortable around her bandmates, and with that bulwark beneath her, I’m eager to see her vault new seemingly impossible hurdles. Let’s sell some tickets, Bocchi!
Episode 6
We open on a show recap starring a Clippy-like guitar mascot. This whole segment just feels like an excuse to animate this extremely bouncy, perpetually squashing and elongating mascot character, and I can’t say I mind. As Kessoku Band is an outlet for Bocchi’s passion, so too does Bocchi the Rock seem to be an outlet for this animation team’s outrageous creative ambitions
And the storyboarding is just as imaginative as the animation. Some shows struggle to maintain even a single dramatic tone through boarding; here, we jump lightly from a brief magical girl-derivative sequence to a game show broadcast, and then swiftly to this grounding perspective shot looking out at the tickets from beneath Bocchi’s bangs
Then this absurd pixel art psychedelic breakdown as Bocchi realizes she’s only covered two tickets so far. Just a delirious animator’s playground all around
Bocchi certainly is a uniquely animation-suited character. Between her extremely overactive imagination and her utter inability to move her body like a normal person, there’s always fresh opportunities for animation flourishes like her skittering across the floor cryptid-style to address her sister
Particularly nice boarding for this sequence of her foot sliding and sending her falling off these steps. Understanding Bocchi means being able to share her headspace, and this sequence conveys that visually by keeping the camera precisely where Bocchi’s own attention would be – first realizing too late that her foot is slipping during this close shot, then staring up at the scattered fliers as you hit the ground, then an aerial shot aimed downwards as both the audience and Bocchi herself assess the overall situation
This episode frankly feels even more fluid and exaggerated in its animation than the Bocchi standard. Checking the staff listings, it looks like overall animation director Kerorira took a close hand on this one, alongside Mari Tomita
Messages from her bandmates reveal most of the tickets have already been sold. Clock’s ticking, Bocchi!
Suddenly a woman collapses beside Bocchi, demanding water, hangover medicine, and a pile of other accommodations
Having received her gifts, the woman immediately pulls another juice box of sake out of her pocket. I think I’m going to like this character
Seeing Bocchi’s guitar, she reveals she’s in an indie rock band herself
When Bocchi attempts to “apologize for the presumption of having a guitar at all” by claiming she’s about to sell it, this woman tells her that that would be a waste, and that she can give Bocchi lessons if she needs. This person seems like an excellent socialization stepping stone for Bocchi; she comes off as intense initially, but clearly wants to spread the joy of musical performance. As Bocchi’s fantasies of her bandmates abandoning her attest, Bocchi clearly still needs to learn that the accusations and condemnations are largely coming from inside the house, and that if she’s willing to talk to people, she’ll find they’re not actually offended by her behavior
“Booze and the bass are worth more to me than my life, so I always keep them close by.” Yeah, she’s great
And on the far end at band practice, we see the absurdity of Bocchi’s fears immediately affirmed, as Nijika questions whether they should have sent those intimidating Line messages
This woman has developed a closed loop wherein any overhanging fears about the future are banished by the circular focus on acquiring booze, drinking booze, and then acquiring more booze. She’s really figured her stuff out!
“You’ll be super into drinking, I can tell. Just by looking at your face!” I cannot deny that the social anxiety -> alcoholic social medication pipeline is extremely real
Oh my god, Bocchi’s fantasy of a failed alcoholic adulthood is terrifyingly authentic. How is she so good at picturing all of the worst possible outcomes
Armed with a boatload of drunken sentimentality, this woman is brought to tears over Bocchi’s plight, and announces the two of them are going to play a street concert and sell those tickets right now
It’s certainly a trial by fire, but I can see this being excellent for Bocchi. Right now, she believes basically everyone in the world is out to get her, and waiting for a chance to condemn her to whatever hell she thinks she’s meant for. As a result, she generally doesn’t express herself at all, believing inaction is at least better than condemnation. What Bocchi needs to realize, and what only expressing herself publicly will reveal, is that most people are simply indifferent to strangers, more concerned with their own troubles than Bocchi’s alleged crimes. It is an oddly freeing revelation to realize that most people don’t like or dislike you arbitrarily, they’re just caught up in their own stuff
It helps that the person to offer these lessons is an adult. Fellow teens don’t really possess the life experience to see Bocchi’s situation as transitional and normal, but this lady can offer a fatigued “yeah, been there” without a second thought
“You’re not in combat with the people in front of you. Don’t get it twisted who your enemies are.” The communion of band and audience is what live music is all about – don’t fear your audience, fear not getting the opportunity to reach them
Kita explains how Bocchi acts at school. “It’s not like she’s being bullied or anything. She’s really withdrawn and people seem to have trouble interacting with her. It’s kind of hard to know how to approach her.” It’s a cruel irony that social awkwardness often creates this aura of unapproachability, with other people feeling insecure about approaching someone who seems so insecure about themselves. No one actively dislikes Bocchi, they just sense how uncomfortable she gets when people approach, and thus can’t find a way to talk to her. Thus you end up with a social isolation feedback loop
This street concert should hopefully help Bocchi realize how low the stakes truly are in these situations. She imagines every failed interaction will be the end of the world, but the worst thing that could happen here is simply not selling the tickets
“I never had any enemies here. It was just my imagination.” Go for it, Bocchi!
Love these swooping cuts pulling across the sky or the audience, emphasizing how Bocchi’s frame of vision is expanding outwards by the moment
“The only people here are the ones who stopped to watch you play.” A pretty cunning ploy by her new friend here – people in a club expect a certain level of professional musicianship, but when the only cost of entry is stopping on the sidewalk, you end up with a uniquely supportive audience
“If I do more concerts, will I see more faces like this?” From fearing the hatred of the crowd to playing specifically to court their smiles. A key shift!
And Bocchi sells two tickets, with her new teacher buying the third!
“Why are rockers so poor!?” I’m sorry Bocchi, we’re all just kicking the same twenty around in a circle
And Done
Ahaha, what a delightful master Bocchi has stumbled across. In spite of drinking her way straight from a hangover all the way to a fresh night of debauchery, Bocchi’s new friend proved to be precisely the mentor she needed, validating Bocchi’s fears while also giving her the slight push she required. Though playing a street show must have seemed like an impossible hurdle to Bocchi, the combination of such a performance’s opt-in nature and her mentor’s firm support on bass meant this was actually a surprisingly gentle trial. Just as Bocchi shifted from fearing the condemnation of her bandmates to basking in their collective success, she is now realizing that no audience could ever be as harsh as her own insecurities, and that connecting with a crowd is actually the best part of playing live. Even if it’s just with one eye open, she’s finally starting to look like a real musician.
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