Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving right back into the thorny stuff of life, as we explore feeling disconnected from the “correct” way to grieve, coming to terms with your failure to fulfill society’s expectations, and the eternal task of sculpting your personality so as to best cohabitate with the people you love, while still holding true to whatever dearly-held prickliness defines your own sense of self. That’s right, it’s time for Journal with Witch, as Asa and Makio navigate the endless struggles of everyday existence.
Our last episode offered a diverse array of challenges for this odd couple, as the pair attempted to bond over Asa’s love of music, demonstrated very different relationships with Makio’s own mother, and were unexpectedly visited by a caseworker concerned about Asa’s inheritance. Music has a tendency to serve as an emotional time capsule, drawing us back to charged moments associated with familiar melodies; for Asa, this meant revisiting both the night of that terrible crash, and also the times when her mother actively supported her own musical ambitions. This tends to be how it goes with such things; Asa is simply learning earlier than most that we must take the good with the bad, that each treasured memory casts a painful shadow, and that preserving our loved ones in memory is how we seek to both honor and retain them. And if old memories can lead to new beginnings, all the better – thus we ended on a moment of genuine familial joy, with Asa now capable of sharing her passion with her adopted family. Let’s see where this rambling road leads as we return to Journal with Witch!
Episode 6
We begin on a reprise of one of Journal With Witch’s most charged, defining images so far – Makio depositing a garbage bag of her sister’s old belongings out in the hall with a fatigued “sayonara.” It’s an image that speaks to the odd contradictions of dealing with the death of a loved one; though it seems like all the associated activities should feel somber and consequential, in truth, cleaning up after the departed involves a whole lot of mundane grunt work. Gathering unneeded belongings into trash bags for disposal feels inherently disrespectful or even sacrilegious, but life goes on even in the context of such stark personal thresholds as death, and alongside the grieving there is a great deal of paperwork and organizing and yes, depositing of once-treasured belongings into a mundane garbage bag. Journal With Witch revels in such contradictions, grounding the dramatic crescendos of life in the incidental, well-observed details that define them as they are actually experienced. Just as Makio’s journey as a novelist offers few cathartic payoffs, so does her grappling with her sister’s death deflate our impression of death’s inherent profundity
“It feels unreal how little I’m sad about it.” These mundane moments echo Makio’s own feelings; just as she “knows” death should be treated with somber reverence, she knows that she should be overcome with grief. But the fictions we construct about human lives rarely match such moments as they’re actually experienced, leaving us to question whether it is the fictions or our own feelings that are wrong
Makio inspects a journal she recovered from her sister’s apartment, which her sister apparently intended to offer Asa when she turned twenty years old. Again, reflections on a life interrupted – for all the plans and assumptions we make, we can never be certain our efforts will not be ceased and silenced, left forever incomplete
This specter of her sister’s voice feels like a jackhammer buzzing in her brain, and she swiftly closes the journal. There are many vehicles beyond music for keeping the departed close at hand, for better or worse
“When and why did you grow to hate me?” It’s difficult to trust Makio’s impression of her sister’s feelings, given how much she tends to read into the smallest gestures of others
Of course, regardless of their origin, the feelings are painfully real. Though she feels divorced from grief, I can relate to this sense of shame and regret – the disappointment over some perceived personal failure that actually makes you double over with pain or nausea
“Without my own hatred of you, would I ever have become a writer?” The template for how so many writers are created, out of a need to fill a hole or mend something broken within themselves, the thing that divorces them from the ordinary happiness that other people seem to take for granted
Makio crawls out of bed to discover it is somehow Asa’s summer break. As with so much in this show, I’m feeling painfully called out by Makio’s illustration of how self-employed life tends to result in a general blurring of hours and days
“Days off? I don’t really have any.” One of the unfortunate tradeoffs of such freedom – rather than knowing you’ve done your duty and can rest, you just always feel like if you could be working, you should be working
Asa heads off for band practice. I like that she actually chose to join a band between episodes, which makes it feel all the more like their life is continuing beyond our observation, a feeling that in turn positions us closer to Makio’s own headspace
A charged composition avoiding Makio’s eyes as she feels a brief flood of frustration at Asa being around all the time
Asa is baffled by Makio’s ability to make a mess of the living room in just one day. But of course, her disbelieving “how can you fail to do something so simple” sounds to Makio like her sister revived
And of course, it also resonates with so many times in her life when she’s been either criticized or patronized for failing to act “normal,” for zoning out or missing social cues or having trouble with technical procedures that for other people seem to come so naturally. Like so many novelists, she’s an observer of human behavior, always peering through the glass, but never capable of assuming the expected form she’s analyzing
“What upsets me is up to me! You don’t get to decide that for me!” Thus years of anxiety and resentment find an outlet in defending herself against Asa’s accusations
“Just like you can’t understand the suffocation I feel, I can’t understand your loneliness.” Makio has chosen to accept what she believes she cannot change about herself. What else can you do? Personal growth and commitment to self-improvement are well and good, but a perpetually harried mind that craves isolation isn’t going to become a focused, extroverted one simply by trying harder
I feel like a refusal to acknowledge that might have done me a disservice back during my college years. Following my father’s advice, I essentially attempted to reinvent myself as a more social, outgoing person, which only worked so long as I kept actively committing to it, and ultimately was shed entirely once I exited that particular environment
“It’s Saturday already?” Summer break continues to torment Makio’s sense of time
Makio’s idea of hospitality is showing Asa’s friend Emiri every single tea she has available, thus minimizing the chance of Makio herself making a wrong choice. We’re definitely getting more context regarding her specific style of neurodivergence this episode
More nice fantastical flourishes as Emiri imagines she is being served at some woodland teashop
“Why aren’t you married?” Damn, what a question. Though it makes sense for Emiri, who seems to be struggling to come to terms with her sexuality
Makio is a unique sort of resource for Emiri – not a parent-style adult, nor a peer, but someone she can speak to honestly without fear of social backlash
We get a brief cut back to Makio breaking up with Kasamachi, presumably because being his girlfriend put too much pressure on her to conform to more standard social behavior
Makio retreats to her room with an exhausted sigh after Asa saves her from further communication. You know, looking back on it, I feel like I’ve similarly always needed a room where I can just get away from socializing, and basically always feel cornered when I’m occupying a space that I can’t do so. Learning so many fun things about myself from this mean fucking show
A call from a family lawyer prompts Makio to accidentally invite Kasamachi out for drinks, a request he takes in characteristically gentle spirits. He knows what sort of creature he’s dealing with
Makio sees a fragment of herself in how Emiri gets lost in her embroidery, and thus feels a compulsion to reach out in her own way, offering a film that might help Emiri come to terms with the authenticity of all different forms of love. A very Makio way of reaching out, offering a piece of art that gave her the answer Emiri seems to be seeking
In contrast, the blunt and sociable Asa gets recommended Mad Max: Fury Road. Fantastic
We then cut to Makio’s meetup with Kasamachi, where she reveals she’s satisfied Asa’s need for meal diversity by switching to a three-bento rotation. For all the parts of her life she’s not personally interested in, Makio clings to a routine that works for her, which offloads the need to actively think about things like what to eat. But of course, many of her survival strategies will seem unsatisfying to anyone sharing her life – another reason she’s chosen solitude, and is having so much trouble adjusting to Asa’s presence
“You really do love your solitude”
Lingering close shots on Kasamachi’s neck and jaw emphasize Makio’s newly lustful thoughts, as she once again considers him as a potential romantic partner rather than just a friend
“Has he always been this… hot?” Her close reflections also demonstrate how she often has trouble with conversations, as her mind drifts off in new directions while other people are speaking
I like how this sequence is employing the same sort of embellishments used for Makio’s sister for more positive ends – having former acquaintances pop in with their relevant commentary is a graceful way of demonstrating how their presence lingers with us, how the past is always in conversation with the present
She tells Kasamachi how the young lawyer handling Asa’s case basically doesn’t engage with fiction – he doesn’t read novels or manga, or even watch movies
Makio wrestles with herself, knowing it’s not fair to express renewed interest in Kasamachi after being the one to break up with him. It was lucky enough that they were able to retain their friendship after one breakup already
After the dinner, Makio admits that she doesn’t currently exercise at all. You gotta keep at it, Makio! I know it’s a bother, but you’ll feel much better if you do!
Incredibly clear tension in this sequence. It’s a familiar setup – a date goes well and you don’t want it to end, so you take a walk around the neighborhood, each of you tense and waiting for the other to make some kind of move. You talk of light things, but your heart’s not really in the conversation; the anticipation is all that matters. And yet here, that ordinary threshold is severely complicated by their past baggage – they’re not young singles taking a chance on love, they’re old friends who’ve broken a relationship and patched up a friendship, now seemingly gambling on a repeat chance
After all the hubbub of the restaurant, with so many thoughts intruding from all directions, the held silence here feels all the more charged
Thus Kasamachi eventually goes in for a kiss, and Makio pulls back
Fortunately, they’re both mature and familiar enough to talk this through. Makio admits she’s afraid of losing what she has, and Kasamachi says he’s fine with this compromise, regardless of whether they desire each other or not. He knows Makio well enough to not be upset with how she processes things, or her fear of losing the precious ground she’s staked out
“I want you to need me around somehow.” We won’t necessarily fit perfectly into each other’s lives in all the ways we hope for, but we can still compromise and find ways to be there for each other
“I don’t deserve help from anyone. That’s what I keep thinking.” Of course, Makio can’t just deny the emotional weight of all those people who’ve questioned why she can’t conform to such allegedly simple standards of behavior. Even if we find our alternative outsider paths, there’s still that pressure, that sense of doubt and shame and regret. Perhaps mitigating that pain is what the stories are for
“Treating someone right. It’s such a simple, difficult thing.”
And Done
God, this show’s so fucking good! That was easily the most smartly constructed date I’ve seen in anime, offering a combination of deep, thorough dives into Makio’s mental calculations, and also sequences where an equal weight of considerations was evoked entirely without words, purely through the universal resonance of the situation, the careful management of sound design, and the framing of their body language relative to each other. And all of that elegant textual and visual storytelling served naturally to illustrate the points raised in our first half, effectively interrogating Makio on her unconventional lifestyle choices, the compromises she’d made and ghosts she’s subsequently been forced to live with. Choosing a unique path through life is not a single, cathartic victory over convention; it is a choice you must continuously make, even as the world around you offers ample reasons to doubt yourself. It is fortunate for Makio that’s she’s found as good a friend as Kasamachi to join her on her strange, rambling road.
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