The true power of animation is not all in what we see, but how we see ourselves and our circumstances told on-screen. It is easy to project ourselves onto these characters. Behind the chaos, the magic and the all-consuming fanservice are compelling portrayals of people who choose to live and face whatever challenges come their way. That’s the reason I haven’t given up on the current anime scene; for every carbon copy Harem Isekai shounen reboot there is a series that will make you fall in love with the medium and shift your perspective on what life is or can be, on how you are or how you could be, like it has for me.
Michiko to Hatchin
Love is not emotional abuse.
I was in a toxic relationship during my first two years of undergrad. He was someone who I had been friends with in my early youth that I reconnected with once college started. I credit him with introducing me to many of the great animes of the late 2000s that I continue love to this day. I also attribute a few mental breakdowns to him, one in particular where I found myself locked in my car screaming into my headrest for hours about how I will never be good enough for him to love. This is the first anime to make a cry as an adult. I saw myself in Michiko: spirited, headstrong, quick to think fast in difficult situations and, of course, firmly enamored with a man she could never have. Her drive was Hiroshi. Being motivated by a man at first make Michiko’s character perfect for a quick comedic slapstick, but it soon ate away at her and became her foil. I hated Hiroshi, not only because he is aloof, a coward, and genuine terrible character, but because he was a mirror image of the person I was in love with. I realized then that the vision I had for him in my life was as dreamlike as what Michiko had envisioned for her, Hatchin and Hiroshi: lacking promise and never to come into fruition. We stop seeing each other shortly after I finished the series.
Beck: Mongolian Chop Squad
Music can give you strength.
Back when Funinamtion had a tv channel they would play the more adult, contemporary shows at night. I never got to watch any except for one show that catch my ear on a snow day back in the late 2000s. Beck Mongolian Chop Squad didn’t try adolescence like a joke; it told me that a Coming of Age tale can work outside of the normal high school structure anime is most comfortable portraying. Beck was the reason why I fell in love with Studio MADHOUSE and went on obscure websites to download music by Beat Crusaders. It had grit and edge and great direction, but above all, Beck was the music. As a kid, music was my solace. It understood why I needed to cry. It prompted me to scream when I was consumed with peer-pressure and self-doubt. I found it easy to identify with the changes in self-realization each character experienced, especially Koyuki. Koyuki was a unsure, book smart, eight grader with fleeting confidence and a lackluster sense of self, just like I was when I found the series. Through happenstance he found confidence through the help of song and live rock music. It broke through his shyness, his self-doubt and his fear of failure. The kid became fearless. And as Koyuki developed into a stronger character, the intensity of the music in the show grew to be more vivid, structurally sound, and compelling. Each song throughout the series was its own expression of freedom: the freedom to be afraid, to be happy, to be unsure and know that it’s okay to be afraid and happy and unsure. That message as a young woman was vital. I grew more confident. I grew fearless. I sang live on stage that year.
Spirited Away
Magic is tangible.
Every March, Cartoon Network would show Spirited Away as a special movie presentation. And once a year, every March, I would lay on my shaggy brown carpeted floor and fall in love with Miyazaki all over again. This was before online streaming, before I really understood what anime was or even could be. I just knew that this story was beautiful and that I had to be in its presence to watch it unfold. It was magic. And it felt as if it was my gift to be experience since I had no one to watch it with. The kids at school never watched it, and my parents didn’t want to understand the story. It was weird to everyone but me; a lot of things I liked felt that way. And in that way, Spirited Away was like a home away from home for me to visit where I could drive head first into the magic of other side. I could get lost in a story about a girl who become her best self through a journey of hard work, love and patience. And in that way, she found that she could break spells that bound her and make her own magic. Magic is the journey home. Magic is a new and unexpected friend. Magic is the love of a child to their parents. Magic is your name. It is the power of self; I am magic.
This may be a new series, so let me know if you’ve enjoyed reading.
Happy New Year.
SYDSUGOI SPEAKS 