Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I thought we’d check back in on the heroes of Shoushimin Series, though I’m sure they themselves would shirk at such an appellation. Claiming a mutual dedication to the pursuit of normalcy, Osanai and Jogoro are determined to not make any waves, with Jogoro asserting that even his acquaintanceship with Kengo is merely an affirmation of their arcane value system. But normal people do not prize normalcy; in their very preoccupation with assuming this camouflage, our leads reveal themselves as distinctive, self-denying oddities.

Our last episode revealed just how much of a mask Jogoro has seemingly adopted, as Kengo grilled him on his transformation from an inquisitive, conceited know-it-all to a self-effacing cipher. Jogoro claims there was no impetus behind this transformation beyond the natural softening of age, and yet fragments of his old self are perpetually leaking through, so much so that even Osanai has preemptively forgiven him for “returning to how you were when I first met you.” So we are left once again with Kengo’s unanswered question, as to what Jogoro is attempting to achieve through seeking “normalcy,” or rather what he is trying to avoid by denying his talents. For Oreki, the fear of embracing his talent stemmed from a fundamental lack of self-worth, as acknowledging them carried an implicit responsibility to make use of them – a fear he would ultimately overcome through his desire to be a partner worthy of standing at Chitanda’s side. Here, Osanai is performing the opposite role, validating Jogoro’s refusal to embrace his full self. But what is it that makes Jogoro so afraid of his own talent, and why is Osanai so attached to this project as well? The mysteries keep stacking as we return to Shoushimin Series!

Continue reading →

Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re going to be continuing our investigations of the intriguing Shoushimin Series, originally written by Hyouka scribe Honobu Yonezawa, and adapted by the accomplished Mamoru Kanbe. The series’ first episode demonstrated both of these artists at their best, with Yonezawa offering a fresh collection of intriguing, multifaceted adolescent stars, and Kanbe bedecking their stories in a singular combination of lush background art and sterile, alienating intimacy.

So far, what is most clear about our protagonists Osanai and Jogoro is that we don’t actually know anything about them. Jogoro is observant and Osanai is indifferent to her peers, but they are otherwise self-conscious ciphers, dedicated to a project of “becoming normal” that seems to imply a goal of becoming part of the scenery, making no waves and attracting no attention from those around them. It’s a particularly bleak variation on Hyouka’s pursuit of low-energy living, and its advocates are as strange as you’d expect, their idle exchanges betraying a callous disconnection from their environment. Such ambiguity might be worrying if presented by another team; but given Yonezawa’s understanding of characterization and Kanbe’s fluency in dramatic tone, I have every reason to suspect these mysteries are purposeful, and our leads are precisely as unknowable as this team wants them to be. Let’s delve into their dark hearts as we return to Shoushimin Series!

Continue reading →

Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re embarking on a new journey, as we check out the first episode of the ongoing Shoushimin Series, bearing the curious subtitle of “How To Become Normal.” Of course, if you’re familiar with original author Honobu Yonezawa’s other works, that title actually seems perfectly appropriate – for it is Yonezawa who wrote Hyouka, centered on Oreki Houtarou and his own quest to live an ordinary, low-energy life.

Yasuhiro Takemoto’s adaptation of Hyouka is a masterpiece; to be honest, it stands among the handful of shows I’d consider uncontroversial choices for best television anime of all time. And while much of that brilliance comes from Kyoto Animation’s singular elevation of the material, they would have nothing to elevate if not for the fundamental richness of Yonezawa’s characterization, his keen interest in human psychology and mastery of using incidental mysteries as tools for illustrating human nature. I’m frankly not a fan of mystery fiction in general, but Hyouka embodies what I consider art’s highest callings – its ability to illuminate the countless peculiarities of human identity, and to bind such inquiries into anthemic statements regarding our fears and ambitions, our relationship with ourselves, each other, and the world at large.

That’s a tall order for any show, but Shoushimin Series does seem to have a solid team behind it. Director Mamoru Kanbe has a variety of excellent productions to his name, having served as director of Sound of the Sky, The Perfect Insider, and The Promised Neverland, among a variety of other productions. That trio in particular demonstrate a clear knack for matching his direction style to the material at hand; Sound of the Sky is expansive and atmospheric, The Perfect Insider is sterile and precise, and The Promised Neverland features some of the best horror cinematography in anime. Meanwhile, series composer Toshiya Ono both composed and wrote half the scripts for Gatchaman Crowds, alongside working with Kanbe on both Perfect Insider and Promised Neverland, giving me every reason to expect a thoughtful, expertly realized adaptation. Let’s get to it!

Continue reading →