Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today seems like a fine day to check back in on the trials of Bocchi and her Kessoku Bandmates, after an episode that proved a resounding triumph for both Bocchi and this show’s production team. After stressing about the group’s Starry performance all the way up through their first song, Bocchi finally took matters into her own hands, and led her friends through a riotous performance that undoubtedly earned them some new fans. And what came after was possibly even more validating, as Nijika confessed that it is Bocchi she has come to rely on, an admittance topped off by what I must begrudgingly confess was a well-earned title drop.
Though Bocchi has been growing in social competence and confidence throughout this series, it has generally required an instigator like Nijika, Kita, or even Kikuri for her to push herself beyond her own antisocial instincts. But here, having undeniably led her friends to a glorious final performance, Bocchi is learning that her presence is not something to apologize for, and that she has made a meaningful positive impact on the people she cares about. That in turn has altered the scope of her dreams; just as Nijika wants Kessoku Band to be a success for her sister’s sake, so Bocchi wants her friends to triumph alongside her. Buoyed up by voluminous storyboards courtesy of show director Keiichiro Saito, and further elevated through remarkably intimate animation for the performance itself, last episode was a clear peak for this generous production. Let’s see what comes next!
Episode 9
With Bocchi’s summer vacation only half over, she now commences her imitation of that “I’m gonna enjoy my weekend to the fullest” Shinji meme, sitting in her room with headphones on for days on end
I appreciate the honesty of this sequence. While lots of stories would have you believe you can essentially just formally level up into a more extroverted, mentally healthier version of yourself, the truth is that personal growth is a practice, not a light switch. Bocchi pushed well outside her comfort zone in order to pull that band performance together, and while that accomplishment will undoubtedly make similar actions feel a touch easier the next time, it hasn’t changed who she fundamentally is. It is only through pushing our comfort zones persistently, so much so that the initially frightening becomes routine, that we actually change ourselves
“Even at work, no one suggests hanging out.” Yeah, this is the stable expression of growth: Bocchi having grown so accustomed to working at Starry that she no longer considers her job intimidating. The true threshold is not achieving something for the first time (though that’s obviously crucial), but achieving it so often that it no longer feels like an achievement
After failing to call her friends and instigate a hangout session, Bocchi instead lies around watching videos about black holes. Indeed, just like approaching a black hole, the more time you spend embracing familiarity and inaction, the harder it becomes to drag yourself out of the gravity well
All in all, a cold open entirely dedicated to emphasizing that one act of bravery does not a reformed adolescent make. A harsh but necessary reminder for this relentlessly honest production
Post-OP, we cut in on Bocchi crouching in public as she emits a deathly aura
I know the track suit is a comfort thing, like she’s basically wearing her security blanket outside, but I feel like the stares it attracts would only make her even more nervous in public
“She’s been staring out into space, and she’s barely talked in days.” “Sounds like typical Bocchi.” Sometimes, a great success like the Starry performance can actually end up sabotaging your progress. You feel content with that one particular triumph, and thus abandon your prior daily practice of gaining comfort in socialization, ultimately backsliding into your old habits
“I have lots of friends to play with, so I can’t stay inside practicing every day like my big sister!” These rough crayon drawings of Bocchi smiling while hiding inside are the saddest thing I have ever seen. How is it so much worse to hear Bocchi’s sister proudly describe Bocchi’s hermitude
It ultimately takes Seika’s interference to let the rest of the band know what Bocchi needs. As with her prior efforts to cheer Bocchi up regarding her guitar abilities, Seika isn’t really a natural at or even particularly interested in becoming Bocchi’s guardian, but Bocchi’s actual friends lack the maturity (and emotional intelligence it brings) to generally think beyond “that’s just how Bocchi is”
And so the band elect to take Bocchi to the beach. “I’m having a mental breakdown, maybe seeing the ocean will fix it” is a little too real of a motivation for a beach episode, but this is Bocchi we’re talking about
Gosh, lovely color design and impressionist shading as Bocchi imagines an idyllic beach fantasy. Like Nichijou, Bocchi is a testament to the power of art design alone in establishing tone and drama, a mastery it is perfectly happy to harness for incidental gags. I suppose that makes sense – comedies based on either Nichijou-style skits or Bocchi-style fantasies tend to jump through many tones with great speed, necessitating art design that is able to bring those disparate genres to life in moments
This also means that even if a particular gag’s punchline doesn’t land well, the journey there was still an engaging, visually rewarding experience. The comedy has to carry less weight if the art design is pitching in
As always, I appreciate how the rest of the band maintain unique outfits that still fit within their overall sense of style. Kita’s in a dress with lots of frills, Ryo prefers darker tones and androgynous ensembles, and Nijika’s always wearing loose-fitting clothes that allow her to be expressive and comfortable
“Ryo’s a cram-the-night-before type.” Of course she is
Kita’s learning the hard way that “cool and mysterious” often just translates to “no thoughts, head empty”
“I don’t get why everyone at school doesn’t see how fun she is.” It’s not surprising that Ryo doesn’t see the problem. As a self-assured introvert with no desire to be popular, Ryo has already passed beyond the insubstantial friendships of proximity that often define high school, and which are largely predicated on everyone adopting a common social code and mode of expression. Bocchi is an irrepressible weirdo who cannot talk normally, which means she can’t really share in the standard camaraderie of high school, but is of significant interest to Ryo, who is already choosing her companions based on whether she genuinely wants to spend time with them (instead of just not wanting to be left out)
If I hadn’t built a tight group of friends, I imagine I’d have been much like Bocchi in high school. I’m sort of like a cat; I rarely enjoy active socialization, but I like being adjacent to friends, where I can look up from whatever writing project I’m working on if the conversation sounds interesting
A group of beach bros immediately start talking to the gang upon their arrival, and Bocchi pops
The familiar touchstones of summer heat accompany their journey to Enoshima Shrine: overwhelming light saturation and the call of cicadas
Apparently it was Kita who forcefully convinced the rest of them to embark on this shrine visit. I appreciate scenes like this demonstrating how it’s actually Kita who might be the most different from the rest of the group – Nijika’s upbeat, but she’s only proactive when she really needs to be, and is generally happy to echo Ryo’s laid-back vibe. Part of the reason Bocchi was initially able to connect with the group was because Kita wasn’t there yet, and the other two aren’t entirely unlike her
Ryo’s characterization is also more convincing than many characters in her general archetype. She’s not unknowable, she’s just quiet, indifferent to effort, and out of step with the interests of most kids her age
Nice body language for all of them as they collapse at the temple summit
“Taking the stairs would have made the view so much more spectacular!” Kita is apparently one of those insane creatures who believes in “building character through hardship” or some such nonsense
“But being up this high feels quite liberating.” “Positivity wells up within me!” Yeah, Bocchi and Ryo are probably the two most similar members of this group, as any experience pushing them outside of their mutual comfort zone demonstrates
“Kita got what she wanted, so let’s blow this joint.” With our perspective drawn a little further outside Bocchi’s manic headspace (and with her actually developing some level of comfort just hanging out with the group), this episode is clearly demonstrating all the other frictions within their group. Bocchi initially saw everyone else as following a common script she’d never been offered, but in truth we’re all constantly compromising between different interests and outlooks
Suddenly Bocchi is attacked by a swarm of birds, leaving her collapsed in the Dead Yamcha Pose. I’ll admit it, they got me with that one
They elect to finish their trip at the shrine of a goddess of performance and musical arts
Tremendous fluidity in their movements as they walk back from the shrine, creating an intimacy through realism that helps us in the audience connect with Bocchi’s feelings as Nijika addresses her directly
Of course, a full day of exploring the beachside town has wrought hell on Bocchi’s atrophied muscles. Good luck at school, Bocchi
And Done
And so Bocchi manages to enjoy the springtime of her youth with friends, if only for one afternoon. But after an episode full of climactic moments and hard-earned victories for young Bocchi, this quieter, characterization-rich episode felt perfectly appropriate, a reminder that the ecstatic highs of performance are only possible because Bocchi the Rock is so committed to articulating the convincingly variable humanity of its key players. Both personal growth and relationships are practices rather than accomplishments; they are commitments we remake each day, and through its thoughtful articulation of Bocchi and her friends’ adventures, this episode demonstrated both the difficulty and the true satisfaction of pushing yourself and making meaningful connections. Great work, Kessoku Band!
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