Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m happy to announce we’re returning to the dazzling Kemonozume, the first TV production by the remarkable Masaaki Yuasa. Set in a modern world where brave Kifuuken warriors face off with shape-shifting Flesh Eaters, the show has swiftly established a Romeo and Juliet-esque pairing of Kifuuken heir Toshihiko and Flesh Eater Yuka, whose whirlwind romance culminated in a confrontation at the funeral of Toshihiko’s father, resulting in the two of them fleeing from Toshihiko’s vengeance-minded compatriots.

It was an unexpectedly sudden detonation of the narrative’s central powder keg, but Yuasa has never been one to linger in narrative stasis. From Mind Game to Kaiba to Inu-Oh, his originals move quickly and with great dynamism, balancing their speed of transformation with the acuity and intensity he brings to each stage of their development. In this case, the ethereal beauty of sequences like Toshihiko and Yuka’s embrace in a fountain have already done an excellent job of selling their love, while the boiling rage of Toshihiko’s half-brother Kazuma is clear in his every delightfully rendered facial contortion. With both sides of this conflict hot on our lovers’ trails, let’s see what fresh wonders await!

Episode 3

We open with an eerie children’s ritual, a dance as they circle and sing about seeing if their meal is ready to eat. The inherently off-putting atmosphere of such activities has been a fertile source of horror for ages, facilitated by how many children’s songs speak of terrible horrors in blunted, irreverent tones, from “Ring Around the Rosey” to “London Bridge”

The natural creepiness of this concept is further aided by the episode’s framing of this dance. The scene is entirely saturated, reduced to alienating bleached tones and full black shadows, and the camera is set at Dutch angles to create a further sense of disorientation. Additionally, the children themselves are conveyed with blank, lifeless eyes – we human beings tend to assign a common intelligence and parsable intent to anything with recognizable eyes, so robbing their designs of that makes them feel inherently inhuman

After several cuts, we see this dance is actually being aimed at a central figure, some outsider they are imprisoning

I appreciate the use of actual children’s voices for this, rather than adult voice actors making children’s voices. That makes it feel all the more real, and thus all the more unsettling

Eventually, one of the circling children transforms into a Flesh Eater. An inherent lesson in that – while we race to identify and condemn the outsider, we may be blinded to the monster within our midst. A false assurance of shared intent makes it easy for predators to lurk in our midst – so is the presumed enemy Toshihiko, and the true threat Kazuma?

God, Yuasa just never misses with his OPs. Like Shinichiro Watanabe, his taste in music, and the inherently rhythmic sensibility of his animation, ensures every OP is treated as it should be, a precious opportunity to establish the tone of your universe

Hah, love this brief flourish of a more fluid, rounded animation style for the game being played on this child’s portable device

“Not gonna wait, not gonna leave you alone!” As in the cold open, their exchanges emphasize the casual malice of children

We then see our lead couple on the train, as Yuka shares a convoluted anecdote about her childhood friend’s dog. The scene is grey, the conversation light; it feels like the anxious truth of their situation is too much to address directly

Terrific low-angle establishing shot of the city as they exit the train. Wires and towers hang overhead, emphasizing a sense of looming threat and potential surveillance, while the limited palette of black lines and red lights make the city seem all the more hostile, just darkness and violence

“Traveling around an unfamiliar town while everyone else is working… heavenly!” Yuka continues to aggressively attempt to keep the tone light. Presumably she blames herself for creating this rift between Toshihiko and his family, and is thus doing her best to cheer him up, assure him things will be alright

“We can go anywhere we want!” Reframing their dislocation from their old lives as a welcome freedom

The pair are swiftly discovered by a trio of Kifuuken members, and the race is back on

I like the distinctive designs of this clean-up crew. They do look like the sort of dudes you’d hire on a contract basis for some messy business

Ooh, very fluid cut of our pair rushing between the train cars. This show has such an interesting mixture of loose forms and realistic character acting

Also just an inherently compelling concept for a chase, with the opening and closing of train doors serving as a percussive refrain. Sorta reminds me of the train sequence from High and Low

We then shift to much looser animation for the standoff, highlighting Yuka’s panicked energy through the swift distortions of her body

Another beautiful environmental shot as the train fades into the distance, this one rendering the trainyard as some kind of ominous industrial site

“A Weary New Moon’s Night.” A proper title for an episode so drenched in fatigue, from the color design to the perpetual rain to the exhaustion of the characters themselves

A lonely, efficient sequence as we pan downwards across umbrellas in the rain, while listening to message after message from Toshihiko’s concerned family. Once again, the lack of recognizable faces makes for an effectively isolating contrast – Toshihiko is surrounded by people, but they are all anonymous strangers, while the family members who actually care for him are now forever out of reach

Yuka can’t get excited, lest she risk transforming and consuming Toshihiko. A common fantasy refrain, though normally with the gender roles swapped – men are framed as incapable of controlling their “inner beast,” as in stories like Beauty and the Beast or basically any vampire drama. Flipping the script makes for a more universal sentiment, emphasizing how each of them are somewhat out of place within their own societies – Toshihiko with his sensitive nature, and Yuka with her desire to repress her own violent one

Love these absurd expressions and bodily contortions as our leads discuss what to do about an apparently fifty-foot-tall investigator through sign language. A welcome dash of levity after this episode’s grim first half, and also a reminder that these two are actually quite charming together

The pair head north to a summer home from Yuka’s childhood

They run into a child whose festival lantern has gone out. In the context of this episode, any child feels like an ill omen

Gorgeous, delicate animation for the candle being relit. The fire is outlined, but the flame itself does not obey the lines, acting like a blurred light piercing through the composition. A wonderful way to convey fire’s ultimately untamable nature

Yuka states that her childhood friend Midori was “consumed by her claws,” and became incapable of turning back into a human. A common threat in shapeshifter narratives; if you indulge your inner beast too fully, you can never return

“It was the same for her mother and sister. Even though Midori-chan had always feared it.” So their nature is basically a curse, a threat of losing their human identity

“But… she couldn’t escape from the heritage of her claws.” A pointed phrasing, considering Toshihiko is also trying to flee his heritage

Thinking of Midori makes Yuka reconsider their own hopeless quest, and then a truck passes by, a brief light in the darkness

This time Toshihiko does the work of lightening their shared emotional load, excitedly proclaiming the summer home must exist, and then sharing a goofy childhood song. They’re doing their best to carry each other through this

Quite charmed by the SHAFT-evoking choice to represent their dinner as literal photographs of various live-action delicacies

Yuka being an excellent cook is a nice beat – feels like a natural form of rebellion for her, that she’d embrace the culinary techniques of non-Flesh Eaters

After another near-death transformation, the two crash into the pool. The golden light above and fragments of glass around them make for a vivid visual echo of their moment in the fountain, perhaps the defining image of their relationship

Yuka asks for Toshihiko to kill her if her claws ever threaten to consume her

She reveals her mother also fell in love with a human, and was killed by his hand. Is her fate to love so passionately that her fire must be extinguished?

And Done

So our lovers continue their desperate journey, fleeing from both the forces of the Kifuuken and their own mounting doubts. Given the near-misses of this episode, it does indeed seem like Yuka and Toshihiko are destined for tragedy; if basically any emotional outburst results in a transformation, then it will only take one mistake without a convenient source of cold water for her love to consume him. After the lightning-paced second episode, I quite enjoyed this slow and somber journey, with color palletes, cinematography, and sound design all working in tandem to evoke the melancholy morning-after reckoning with the outcome of their brave choices. Can our lovers escape both the dangers of this hostile world and the tragedy of their own nature? All signs point towards a harrowing end, but I’m still rooting for them!

This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.