Hige vs. Otaku

The news report of this act’s opening scene was a clever touch. It coupled the reported increase of youths’ addiction to androids, and their seeming inability to socialise with real people as a result, with Rikuo’s fumbling uncertainty with housemaid android Sammy. The way it demonstrated how the reality was completely opposed to the media perception was a smart bit of social criticism – made even better by its function within the show. Rikuo is not wrapped up in the fantasy of having a living, feeling android at his command; he’s realistically scared and confused by it. Rather than immediately accepting the potential humanity of Sammy, Nagi et al and setting off on some whimsically unreal adventure, he cautiously probes and investigates in a bid to genuinely understand. This reluctance is one of the main attractions of this show for me and it makes his gradual acceptance of the androids’ sentience all the more successful. The slight smile Sammy gives after Rikuo, we assume purposefully, compliments the coffee she worked so hard to improve genuinely broke my heart. Not in a sad way, but just in how it subtly communicated Rikuo’s acceptance of Sammy’s humanity. He came to realise that Sammy lied to him for wholly selfless reasons and his reward for her act of love was some simple words of appreciation. When was the last time anyone thanked something that was just a machine?

Another story element I liked about this episode was the brief but telling hint of Masaki’s past. His lofty disdain for androids had complimented Rikuo’s besieged confusion up to this point but it would’ve worn thin if he never developed beyond it. Luckily, it seems, Masaki is not just a bonehead supporting character to the protagonist. If anything this episode suggests he’s going to be as fleshed out as the other central cast members. The use of sound in the scene itself – a half-second flashback to a young Masaki sitting hunched in a darkened corridor outside a door – was fantastic. We went from the light hum of Nagi’s café to a deafening silence and I was amazed how something so slight as a drop in sound amplified the dramatic impact of the scene. Masaki’s brief chat with the man/android reading next to him again implied that Eve no Jikan is concerning itself as much with his journey as it is with Rikuo’s. It seems wrong to make predictions about a show as refined and in control as Eve, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the two boys forked off in two ideological directions towards the end of the run.

It’s hard to imagine Eve no Jikan not appealing to the whole spectrum of anime fandom. There’s cute moe girls, relatable shonen protagonists, robots. All tied up with intelligent direction, depth and technical prowess. It’s a show that writes its own hyperbole but then actually delivers on the evangelising, and it really feels like ‘new’ anime, too; in the same way Mononoke felt new. The use of CG in both series opened up a whole new method of storytelling and the results feel genuinely fresh. Plus, fifteen minutes of run-time per episode. What excuse is there not to be watching? Dae it. Dae it right now.

Martin, being the fine purveyor of all things curious and my uncanny taste-zen-twin, got me interested in the work of Yasuhiro Yoshiura. I’ve seen his previous two works and have a particular affection for Pale Cacoon with its beautiful claustrophobia and gentle melancholy, so I was eager, like Martin, to feast my eyes on his latest animated effort.

It’d be silly to dance around the fact that Eve no Jikan is another success. The animation continues to edge towards realising Yoshiura’s strange vision and particularly here he nails the art of comic timing brilliantly. Everything is so tightly synchronised from the shaky camera angles to the snappy verbal exchanges that you’ll notice one hilarious moment only to miss another ten lines of dialogue from laughing out loud so unexpectedly.

One moment that really stood out for me was the introduction of Akiko, the café Eve no Jikan‘s resident ADHD suffering, caffeine-fuelled moe girl. She pops up at protagonist Rikuo’s table and promptly reels off a mass of non sequitur hyperactivity leaving Rikuo and his friend completely dumbfounded. It was specifically the little rolling tap of her fingers at the outburst’s end as she looks eagerly at one boy to the other that had me in stitches. The use of music and sound effects here, too, really accentuated the quick-witted humour of the scene and Eve no Jikan in general makes fantastic use of its audio as well as everything else. I’m not bullshitting when I say this show is a sensory delight. Flowery and a bit purple, yes, but bullshitting, no. The use of light had me salivating over the lush beauty of it all. It’s all just a bit stunning, really.

As Martin says, Eve no Jikan is a much lighter-hearted affair from Yoshiura’s previous work, but there was a few underlying moments of paranoia and sadness that peeked through and caught my attention (being addicted to misery as I am). Rikuo’s terror over the possibility of androids being more sentient than they appeared seemed very palpable and reflected a surprisingly realistic attitude a person might have in that situation. Equally, though, the revelation that Eve no Jikan‘s robots can actually feel emotion made their pathos shoot through the roof. Once we meet Nagi in her haven for androids and humans alike, witnessing the subsequent neglect she suffers at her job in Rikuo’s school genuinely stings. Initially the androids appear to be typically mindless drones, best exemplified through Rikuo’s dutiful housemaid, but by the episode’s end we realise these machines are actually emotionally aware and suffering in silence. Nagi’s attempt to forge a unity between the two forms of life with her café only drives home the inhumanity of Eve no Jikan‘s ‘living’ people and how cruel their ignorant mistreatment really is.

I thoroughly enjoyed this brief but elegantly formed experience, but was definitely left wanting more. And not just in the it-was-so-good sort of way; many elements that I really wanted to be expanded upon felt left in the dust of its relentless pace. The speed made considering emotional implications of various events difficult, and there were so many that caught my imagination that I was scared to blink in case I missed something new. Of course this makes the show ideal for rewatching, but it’s hard not to imagine how much more satisfying the experience would be if we had a little more time to breathe and take it all in. By the sounds of things this is the first in a series of ‘acts’ so perhaps these intriguing plot threads will be expanded upon in due course. Regardless, Eve no Jikan is a fine achievement both visually and thematically and you’d be a fool not to sacrifice fifteen minutes of your time to enjoy its many delights.