You may have heard some of the praise Cypics has received lately – from me if nowhere else. It’s much deserved based on the quality of their work. But as much as how the execute it, what makes Cypics (and indeed any anime studio) special is what they choose to produce. A weird original like Apocalypse Hotel (deeply flawed but brilliant). Adaptations like Hikaru Ga Shinda Natsu and World is Dancing – difficult, not especially commercial (this show in particular). People are hyped about Cypics working on Kagurabachi and while I might wish they’d spend their powder on something more to my taste, that’s going to see their profile explode in the perception of casual anime fans.
I deeply respect a studio working on material that’s hard, not easy. And World is Dancing in very difficult. I saw (thanks to a tweet from Anime Updates) an interesting quote from Kataoka Yoshiro, the planning producer of Mushishi:
“This is an incredible anime. I’ve never seen anything expressed quite like this before. The movement, camerawork, and pacing of its direction are extraordinary… Japanese anime has no limits. It can express anything, in any way.”
Kataoka went on to praise the anime staff for sticking with its vision, even if the product was one that wasn’t understandable to everyone. And it’s funny, because that’s exactly what I was thinking in watching this episode, even before seeing that quote. This series isn’t going to be appreciated by everyone. There are the technical details as regards the production (like how the camera perspective “breathes” with a character at times) that most viewers will miss. But more, it’s had to considerably tone down the sexual themes of the manga – that was not a matter of choice, I’m sure – while still trying to communicate the complicated emotions playing out in Oniyasha and the nature of his artistic journey.
Most of all, I think, this topic – an artistic awakening, and the nature of the creative process – is surely one of the most opaque themes any narrative can take on. Most artists don’t really understand it even as it’s happening to them (much less little boys). World Is Dancing – manga and anime – is trying to tell that through human experiences we can all share. Oniyasha is a relatable person in a way Zeami – a figure of legend – could never be. One day this series will be hailed as the generational masterpiece it is, of that I’m quite confident – though it will never be commercially successful in a big way. And I suspect Cypics knew that very well, which makes their decision not just to adapt it but to do it so lovingly all the more admirable.
In order to accomplish its mission the manga obviously mixes fiction and (accepted) fact liberally. Since the Shinza Troupe is itself fictional as far as I can tell, I’m assuming this whole contest/rematch thread is as well. That there is a rematch is courtesy Hosokawa Yoriyuki (Matsuda Kenichirou). He was the shogun’s Kyoto Kanrei (chief deputy in Kyoto) and a member of one of Japan’s most powerful samurai clans (his descendent, a famous potter, was the first non-LDP prime minister in postwar Japanese history). Yoriyuki senses that Oniyasha has touched a nerve with his edgy lion dance and is intrigued, and he’s the one who “suggests” a rematch.
Yoriyuki is an interesting one. He’s almost three decades older than Yoshimitsu and clearly feels comfortable pushing his buttons (he even calls him “weak”). He also presents this to Zoujirou in such a way that the boy can’t refuse to participate. But for Oniyasha, this is all abstract. He’s in a state of confusion after the contest – stressed, wetting the bed, always logy for reasons he can’t understand. Fortunately for him whenever he falls in the river, Kogane always seems to be close by. And we learn at last why Kogane disappeared from Oniyasha’s life (and why he was so skilled as a dancer himself).
One suspects there’s another shoe to drop with Kogane. At one point described as being from the Southern Court, he could be someone of great importance. But the winning side writes history and the Northern Court is the winning side. Whatever he was Kogane is now a refugee, and lives with fellow refugees in a makeshift camp on the river. Among them is Toku (Chou), an old monk who’s the first one Oniyasha sees when he wakes up. Having gotten a look at the mysteries of sex, Oniyasha is now introduced to the world of liquor – and to its potential both as a creative catalyst and a blunt force weapon.
These people seem carefree, and that appeals to Oniyasha – a product of his rigidly structured and often joyless upbringing. But it’s a sort of living death – the river people are like ghosts. Kogane was a dancer in the Shinza Troupe kicked out by Zoujirou as a means of protecting the troupe from guilt by association. Toku was a samurai who fought against the Ashikaga in the army of Emperor Go-Daigo, and the weight of all the lives lost in the cause slowly grinds him into the earth (Toku communicates this in a passage that could have come straight from Heike Monogatari). Now both are invisible people, and Kogane separated himself from Oniyasha in an attempt to protect him.
The thing is, though, that it’s not Oniyasha’s choice whether or not to be an artist. That thing is inside him whether he knows or wishes it or not – it can’t be shut off like a tap. To create is a compulsion. That’s why every time he’s lost, something lights his way to the true path – literally in this case, in the form of fireflies. And more than once the way marker has been the mysterious white-haired youth, whose identity is even more certain to me now that we know who Kogane is (and isn’t). And once more the creator in Oniyasha seems something like a shaman on a vision quest, in yet another spectacularly realized montage of surrealism. And this time we see how deeply creation and destruction are intertwined for him.
