Netflix may have finally figured this anime thing out.

I had pretty high expectations for Kotarou wa Hitorigurashi, given the esteem the franchise seems to be held in.  Safe to say they were more than met – this was a fantastic start (and ending – you can’t go wrong with an Itou Masumi ED).  All the usual caveats about covering Netflix anime apply – I really have no idea how I’ll do so other than not binging it.  There’s also the fact that this show is premiering (and was dumped in its entirety) at the end of the season rather than the beginning.  But I’ll include it in the spring preview anyway, on the assumption that some folks won’t have noticed it.

Tsumura Mami’s seinen manga has been running since 2015, and already received a live-action adaptation on TV Asahi last year.  Both have been much praised by critics and fans alike, so I went into the anime on the assumption that there was probably fire with the smoke.  Based on these first two episodes there certainly is – this was really smart and very funny.  The feels are intense, but earned pretty honestly – for my palate things never get saccharine (bittersweet, if anything).  The two best anime premieres so far in 2022 have been Netflix series, and that strikes me as pretty notable.

The caveat for me is that the premise – a 4 year-old boy moves into an apartment complex by himself – seems frankly absurd.  I know anime and manga is obsessed with children living alone but high schoolers (even middle schoolers is a stretch) are one thing – Kotarou wouldn’t even be in kindergarten yet.  So for me at least there is a certain suspension of disbelief factor, but I was past it within five minutes – the writing and performances are so sharp that I was caught up in the moment.

I was skeptical of Kugimiya Rie as Satou Kotarou (the live had an actual boy in the role, unsurprisingly) but she too won me over pretty quickly.  Kotarou is a weird kid, speaking in a kind of formalized samurai dialect (he’s obsessed with samurai) and carrying himself with all the exaggerated dignity a toddler can muster.  Kugimiya captures the inherent humor in his manner (Umu!) without making a joke out of him, which is probably the most important requirement of the performance.  From the moment we meet Kotarou buying tissues (and a ¥250 sword) to give away as gifts to his new neighbors, we’re engaged in seeing what his deal is.

The key adult in the story is Karino Shin (Masuda Toshiki, also really good).  He’s a thirty-one year-old (Masuda is also 31) struggling mangaka who rarely leaves his apartment (#202 to Kotarou’s 203) and seems rather bereft of motivation.  Karino is by any conventional measure a loser, yet he passes a critical test – when he becomes aware of Kotarou’s bizarre situation, he takes an interest and behaves in a protective manner.  There’s a little feint at suggesting Kotarou could be his son (Kotarou apologizing was pretty heartbreaking), but the story is much more poignant with that not being the case.  The only reason for Makino to play a role is common decency – he’s unexceptional in every sense, yet he simply does the right thing.

The interactions between these two are really great, and Kotarou’s offbeat demeanor and speech (he declares that he speaks the way he does because the style is “trending with me right now”) is consistently a hoot.  A couple of other tenants are woven into the fabric – #201’s Akitomo Mizuki (Hayami Saori), a hostess saddled with either a deadbeat boyfriend or relative.  And #102’s Tamaru Isamu (Suwabe Junichi), who may or may not be a yakuza but is definitely divorced with a son who hates him, and who sees Kotarou as (unwillingly) a surrogate.

With the pieces on the board, the second episode launches into the series proper.  At this point it seems as if it will be a string of connected vignettes, each a half-episode long, depicting Kotarou’s life in the apartment complex.  Kotarou’s situation is the elephant in the room – we’re aware of it, the neighbors are aware of it, but no one really wants to talk about it.  When you step back and think about it this is a sad and rather alarming situation, but everyone copes with that by pretending things are not so much normal, but sort of “this is just as it is”.  Mostly, that means everyone (but especially Karino) trying to watch out for Kotarou without formally involving themselves.

Tamaru is the most problematic of the trio, because he condescends to Kotarou (which smart kids like him pretty much universally hate) and doesn’t respect his personal space.  Kotarou’s problems are both typical of a 4 year-old and unique to his situation.  His favorite anime “Tonosaman” (that’s where he gets the speech patterns) is ending.  He has trouble sleeping alone at night, but doesn’t want to admit that to Karino.  Most obviously, he craves close human contact – to the point where he pays people 10 Yen to watch him do his Tonosaman impression on the street.  He also freaks out when he has to go without a bath for a day (the sento is closed, and the apartments have no baths), finally resorting to bathing in the sink.

These mini-episodes, culminating in Kotarou’s first day of kindergarten, are an intriguing mix of quirky humor and genuine gut-wrenching sadness.  The juxtapose the mundane and the bizarre masterfully, and each one is thoroughly involving.  Mizuki slips into a more direct role in Kotarou’s life, inviting him for a sleepover (he doesn’t get any sleep, but he does enjoy it).  Kotarou dodges the issue of being alone at the entrance ceremony by telling his seatmate that his parents are ninjas, and sets about the task of creating believable bentos by asking ideas from the customers at the konbini (who he returns to thank the next day) – where the clerk too finds herself informally looking after him.

It’s a strange mix, all this, but it totally works.  Kotarou is irresistible, weird in an adorable way, mature for his age but only enough to make his situation that more more poignant.  What’s clear is that he’s filling a need in the lives of these people, especially Shin (the complex probably doesn’t even accept cats).  In lesser hands this could so easily be maudlin, but it never crosses that line – with a situation like this good storytelling lets the pathos sell itself rather than overselling it.  Call it a winter series or spring, whatever you like, but Kotarou Lives Alone is another piece of evidence that Netflix is getting better at anime all the time.  And that’s certainly a hopeful sign for a medium that creatively needs all the help it can get.