Unable to forget a performance of "Shinigami" performed by the rakugo master Yakumo in the prison
where he was being held, Yotaro's first act upon his release was go right to the theater, where he
begged, pleaded, and was finally accepted as Yakumo's live-in apprentice. After years of refining his
art, Yotaro was promoted to the rank of Shinuchi and inherited the title of 3rd Generation Sukeroku.
For the sake of his master Yakumo, Konatsu, and to change the image of Sukeroku inside them both, what
kind of rakugo will Yotaro discover?
This celebrated human drama, based on a story by Haruko Kumota, offers an honest and sympathetic look
into the lives and livelihoods of rakugo storytellers in the Showa era.
(Source: Crunchyroll)
If you would have told me even two years ago that Studio DEEN would be producing two of the most high quality and well loved shows of the year, two years in a row, I would have told you that you were completely insane and should probably be committed to a psychiatric ward. Despite that previous aversion to the studio, I can firmly say that Rakugo's second season is my AOTS by multitudes of miles, and that the series as a whole is probably one of the best anime to air in the past decade. Just like in the first season, this series just oozes quality from every seam. The art and character designs are muted, but detailed and expressive. The music is a mixture of lovingly performed traditional Japanese music and re-imagined period pieces with a focus on both upbeat and atmospheric jazz. The VA is notably superb, as it should be in a series that focuses a Japanese art of spoken performance. Even as someone who does not understand the language, the emotion and feeling just flows off every word during both the in-show performances and normal dialogue. DEEN stepped up to the plate with the fruits of its recent successes and delivered an extremely polished finished product. And this is just me praising the series' aesthetic qualities, which albeit great cannot hold a candle to the stories that Rakugo has to tell. Rakugo is first and foremost a character-driven drama with quite a story to tell, and an anime second. This is incredibly refreshing in a medium so overfilled with "moe-blobness" and bereft of mature plots and characters, and reminds us just how effective animation can be when it decides to take itself seriously. With that in mind, this series is just as much about the art of rakugo performance as it is a story about our characters and their relationships both with and around it. It is hard to discuss anything about the specifics of the series without spoiling the experience, but believe me when I say that these characters are some of the most believable and engaging in recent memory, and getting to watch them grow up, accomplish their goals, and deal with all of life's challenges is a treat to watch unfold. In fact, if there was only one thing that I could praise Rakugo for, it would be its narrative breadth: across two seasons and eight decades we get to watch the evolution of the art of rakugo over three whole generations of familial performers. Despite this amount of pure content, nothing in Rakugo seems out of place, with character actions and specific plot events being as relevant from S1.E01 to S2.E12 as it is from episode to episode. I don't think I'd hesitate to recommend this series to even those who don't like or watch anime, which is something that I typically wouldn't do for a series that I don't rate a 10/10. As a complete 24 episode package, I think that Rakugo very closely approaches this score with only a few reservations, but when split cleanly in two some issues arise with pacing out of the first season and into the "Descending Stories". The series makes very liberal use of time jumps, and although they are lovingly crafted and well-executed, I know that they will undoubtedly anger some just from their nature. With such an incredible length of time covered, Rakugo opts to cover the most important and influential moments in our characters' (and rakugo's) lives, and the jumps in characterization, or sometimes the deliberate lack thereof, can be a bit of a mental leap at points. Rakugo above all else never opts to insult your intelligence with needless exposition, so careful examination of what happens on screen is going to be required. This is a mature series, and it expects its viewers to approach it with the same maturity that it provides. In the end, I think the biggest shame with Rakugo is that it's effectively un-localize-able. It deals directly with specifically Japanese cultural content that would lose nearly all of its meaning in translation. One of the series' greatest strengths is bringing the viewer to both appreciate and understand the art of rakugo performance and its traditions, but nearly all of this would be lost if all of the many rakugo stories were performed in English. This is not so much an issue with actual lingual translation but rather the voice actors' specific performances and the emotional weight and subtext that they carry. I want nothing more than to be able to recommend this series to non-anime watchers as an example of a modern, compelling example of the medium that isn't about giant robots or cute girls, but the sheer necessity of watching the subtitled version will immediately cause people to ignore the recommendation. Maybe I'm wrong, but I doubt even the most talented team of American localize-rs and voice actors will be able to do this series justice. If you haven't seen this series yet, go watch both whole seasons now. You won't be in the least bit disappointed.
Nostalgia is a powerful thing. Happiness is essential, for when death comes, we want to look back fondly at our lives. It's only natural, really. It's only natural that we feel this way, and it's only natural that this is the conclusion to such a wonderful work of art. With that sentimental tangent, back on track, though expect that to be the tone of this review. Death, or rather, actually dying and no longer being able to experience anything for all of eternity is something that legitimately frightens me, and it has since childhood. Leaving a legacy that you won't see, possibly not even knowing what kind of legacy you leave or if you leave one at all. All of this has toiled in my mind for quite some time now, and this second season really sparked that back into my psyche, for better and for worse. Since, it's been a struggle to keep myself from getting horrified by the unknown of it all, since it was inevitable that this would be a recurring thought in my head. Then again, it might've started before then; I'm not sure. All I know is that I am glad to have been alive to see this masterpiece. *This review assumes that you have seen both seasons of Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu. If that is not the case, leave, watch both seasons (or if you've seen season 1, continue on), and head right back. I will spoil both seasons for the bulk of this review* Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu is an impeccable tale about two young men’s careers and how their ways of dealing with their passions for their beloved art form affected the lives of themselves and others. It serves as a prequel to the events of this season, and are filled with such foreshadowing through the symbolic Rakugo performances that their effects can still be felt in this second season, but I'll get there. The sequel, Sukeroku Futatabi-hen, is a masterful tale of an apprentice surpassing his master while not only trying to not only carry the art in which he promised and now is challenged to protect, but also learning even more of just what happened before while his master comes to terms with everything, from his past to his legacy. Well, that's only at the start, since there are new things added in each episode that make each one vibrant, dramatic, and thrilling. The follow-up to the undisputed best anime of 2016, is every bit as rich as its predecessor and then some. With that said, let’s alter my usual segue, and jump right in, shall we? We begin with this hilarious meta performance by Yotarou, aka the 3rd Generation Sukeroku, telling us that it has been a year since the last season and that he had been putting his head to his feet in anticipation of telling us the second season’s events since the beginning of the Spring 2016 anime season, which is gold. Not to mention how the directing encapsulates his disorientation from that whole wait. With this, we begin the series on a hilarious, upbeat, and creative note, which is fitting for this masterpiece. The anime wastes no time in revealing the symbolism behind Yakumo frequently telling the story “Shinigami” in season 2, as we learn that Yakumo insists on haunt Rakugo die with him, saying this directly to Yotarou, effectively challenging him to fulfill the promise he made to him 10 years ago about keeping the art alive even after the master’s death, hence what I just alluded to literally 2 paragraphs ago. After a delightful and magnificent first episode, the second episode really delves into showing how the media is a bunch of snakes that will use Yotarou’s past against him, especially Amaken, the fucking prick. We get to see how certain upstart audience members will insult Yotarou and anyone who likes his work, sort of like an accidental allegory for an elitist punk that mocks us for liking a show we genuinely like. We get to see just how badly this affects him as he makes his first bombing performance, and everything really crumbles for him. At the same time, Eisuke (who met up with him in episode 1 and piqued his interest about Sukeroku) talks with Yakumo, wanting to know everything about the past of Rakugo, the masters, and, even Miyokichi for some reason. Her name comes up a lot, and it disturbs Yakumo and especially Konatsu, for we know what she did in season 1 and how Konatsu felt about her; her awful, love-deprived mother. Miyokichi’s negative impact is lasting, which is akin to how in real life, someone can leave a negative impact on so many people’s lives even after he/she is gone, to the point of using that person as negative comparison and contrast. Not only that but, as I said, the whole gang thing becomes notably relevant as well at around the same time. Each episode brings something crazy and new to the table, which is not what I expected. I mean, this show brings a lot of originality to the table, but I didn't expect it to start delving into some of the stuff it did with each new episode adding a new subject to the pile that relates to the characters’ personal lives. From the yakuza stuff, to Miyokichi, to a time skip where we get to see the new Shinnosuke that was born from Konatsu, to the lovely performance Konatsu gives to and with the kindergarteners, and even more amounts of great moments and revelations, this show never gets old. It's a treat to see just what amazing new thing will pop up, much like opening a bunch of presents on Christmas or your birthday. While, yes, the amount of time skips is potentially bothersome, even to me, the show never dwells at all on these time skips and it just wants us to have a reasonable gage on them, particularly with the second one, as they later spell out the first one. It's not like the time skipped was even necessary or something that would really flesh out the characters or develop either the characters or the plot. It would be nice to know more or if they resolved the gang issue from episodes 2 and 3 thoroughly, but they would merely be interfering with things if that were heavily included. Some people will complain about the lack of symbolism or foreshadowing behind the Rakugo performances this time around, but that's because the ones in season 1 were meant to do what season 1 was all about: foreshadowing, since it is effectively a prequel to the present day story, with season 2 being that story that is really about bringing everything from the past to light and to a close, which is why this doesn't bother me much. The Inokori performance that was hyped up for episodes 3, 4, and 5, was entertaining like the rest of them, but ultimately, the crux of episode 6 was how the final moment of episode 5 jacked up his health, part of that moment involved him seeing a hallucination of Miyokichi before being part of a hallucination of Sukeroku shoving him down for unknown reasons in a room full of candles. This leads into the fact that he hasn't truly forgotten about either of the two, and it also leads into the big truth: Yakumo lied to us. Not only to us but to Konatsu and Yotarou. Specifically, he lied about the circumstances of Moyokichi’s and Sukeroku’s deaths, or, as they are known by real name, Yurie and Shin. In reality, due to an emotional outburst, Yurie stabbed Shin and panicked, but the wound wasn't horrible. Konatsu came into the room and thought Bon (Yakumo) did it but Yurie told her that she was the one who did it, only for her to hit Yurie and push her out of the room in an emotional outburst which prompted Shin to reach out to save her only to die with her. Since then, he let it seem as if he did it in an act of permanent guilt, especially since her memories contorted around the fabricated idea that he was the one who did it. This moment was insane, not just due to it being a harsh and dramatic circumstance happening so fast, as life tends to do with moments like this, but mainly because it showed that part from season 1, from Yakumo’s story to be a lie, which was an interesting and epic thing to do. One failed suicide attempt later, and Yakumo gets to see Yotarou perform one of his old colleague, Sukeroku’s most famous works, and after his daughter is so moved and the finally gets the chance to perform, the gang boss, Kido Isao is arrested and Yakumo gives a performance surprisingly relatable to him. Then, after being disappointed by Yota’s performance, he does Shinigami, only to see Sukeroku and nearly die in a fire; a truly harrowing and tense scene, in no small thanks to the directing. With the sheer impact of that flame, we eventually get more news: Konatsu is pregnant once again. After that, we learn even more of what Yakumo did for her, and after a nice performance by Yota and some unnecessarily adorable backup by Shinnosuke, it seems like Yakumo is finally dead. The afterlife is very interesting there. It's a more vibrant and more poetic version than real life, and is a truly lively take on the afterlife, though nothing can beat the “Land of the Remembered” from Book of Life. It's a beautiful thing to see our trio reunite, and even more precious to not only see our two original leads perform Rakugo once again, but to do it with Konatsu and Shinnosuke by their side for a bit. Sure, this raises questions, but we, like Yakumo, can't really be allowed to truly understand this afterlife. It's also a shame that Matsuda died as well, but at least he sees his master off in a beautiful river in a breathtaking ending sequence that leads to a golden new frontier that is just...heavenly… The finale is one of the most peaceful, loving, and nostalgic finales in existence. We get to see Shinnosuke and the new child Koyuki, and they're pretty nice, and do really take after their role-models, Yakumo and Yotarou respectively. It's nostalgic to see how everyone we are left with to care about has aged, and the Rakugo performances of Shinnosuke and Yotarou are really nice, with the added bonus of Yotarou going what Yakumo went through earlier in the season with seeing someone he cares about being the Shinigami. The final scene really sells the nostalgia everyone has at this point and made me both nostalgic and teary-eyed. You never know what to expect with this show, and it's rare that we can say that in a positive manner. It's told impeccably, and it keeps things exciting with rest new twists and turns around every corner. Honestly, the finale was perfect, and the road leading up to it was beyond stellar. Yotarou is the same as ever, even with the 10-year gap between the beginning of season one and the beginning of this season, but he has still grown in terms of a performer and a student. Still brash, outlandish, loud, goofy, and earnest, this loveable fool, and, just like with some of his audience members, he will always be Yotaro to me. Plus, he makes a great dad and a really good partner to Konatsu, like in episode 4 when he got her to perform in front of her son and his class, or when in episode 7, he still decided to shield her from the truth about the Sukeroku death incident despite it taking an emotional toll over him and the fact that he now knows the truth. He’s a real treat to get to listen to, even when he becomes old. Bon, our old master from the beginning of the series and our interesting young lad from the entirety of season 1, is still as strict, stingy, and as much of an ass as before, but with more of a reluctant tendency to just let his two younger ones (Konatsu and Yotarou). After all, he’s gonna die soon, not them, they still have full lives to live. It's also interesting that he actually wanted Konatsu to kill him all this time like she said she would, but it not only disappointed that she hadn't but is not disappointed that the only reason she keeps him alive now is that her baby likes his rakugo. Worst of all, he doesn't enjoy doing it anymore, as it relates to his guilt of Sukeroku’s death, which we learn wasn't even his fault. He continues to lie about the situation to make himself as guilty to Konatsu as possible, since, as I stated in my season 1 review, he feels genuinely horrible about this whole thing, and all of this affected his art and his view on everything. Putting everything into perspective with the ultimate twist, which I have to commend this show for, since I hate the Unreliable Narrator, yet this show used that in order to allow us to have a thrilling prequel that sets up such context for the truth of it. Konatsu is as stubborn, angry, and hot-headed as ever, even after knowing the truth about everything and finally raising a kid. Even still, she is still very likable and a worthwhile partner for Yotarou. Still, there is a good reason, since she’s been that way pretty much all her life, starting from the moment she effectively killed her mother and contorted the memories of that event to Yotarou comforting her. It's pretty tragic, honestly, since she really hasn't grown out of that angry, overly emotional, and vengeful state, at least until motherhood in which she is still somber, but at least she mellows out in old age. Even other characters like Matsuda, Eisuke, Mangetsu, and Yotarou’s former boss, who play mostly minor roles here with one exception (all 4 of which also played minor roles previously, like Eisuke being that one man that was rejected by Yakumo near the end of season 1) remain or become really fun and likeable, and that's a treat in its own right. The only exception is the intentionally awful cunt known as Amaken, a total SOB who actively ruins Yotarou’s gig by rubbing his past in his face and acting like an asshole during Yotarou’s performance. Other more minor characters like Kido Isao and the geisha from season 1 are still rather good people, like, for example, the boss man (Kido) himself being charismatic and understanding, fascinated by rakugo, and not afraid to stand up for women, as shown when he throws Yotarou into rocky water for making Konatsu nervous for him due to his impudence, or remind us that he is still the boss and that he exerts massive authority. I also like Shinnosuke, the grandson of Sukeroku (who was also named Shin) for being such an adorable kid who happens to be a really nice boy, making me want him to grow up to be an amazing lad, as odd as it sounds given that he is merely an anime character. Turns out, both he and Koyuki were great as teenagers as well, and their dynamic is fun. Honestly, as cheesy as it is for me to feel this easy about characters in fiction, I really feel like I know the whole family of these guys as a friend who somehow got to see everything they went through that really contributed to this story. I don't think any anime has been able to do that for me, and I'm sure many of you feel the same way. It's damn impressive for an anime to be capable of doing such a thing, and I adore this anime for it. Studio DEEN is not known for having high-quality art. Rather it is known for the CGI Dragon, and the way it mishandled the Fate series. Even still, the art here is as impressive as ever, with great backgrounds and lively Rakugo performances to boot. Plus, if you thought the directing in season 1 was phenomenal, prepare to have your mind blown by the amazing moments of shot composition, lighting, and framing that shine amongst the best moments of season 1 and then some. Even with the occasional moments of bad CGI or the lack of notable fluidity overall, are unable to really bog down this series too much for its phenomenal directing and great art. Director Hidetoshi Namura did an excellent job with both seasons, and he deserves said credit as the animation director, and Studio DEEN deserves major credit for their work here. The anime wastes no time showing us some new songs for the overall OST, which is admirable, as a sequel should always bring in some new music to mingle with the old. Each track is as lively as ever and there are even more great jazz compositions to spare. They are, once again, placed incredibly in the perfect scenes, such as the song for the final moment of episode 1. The OP, “Imawa no Shinigami” by Megumi Hayashibara is both chilling and emotional, and with some of the best directing an OP can have, to the point that even the name carries meaning about one of the integral plot points of the show: Shinigami. Even outside of the masterful directing which is worth it's own video by someone who can break it down in perfect detail, it is still a wonderful song to listen to, starting off in a very chilling and somber tune with clocks ticking before Yakumo walks and then falls off a cliff, then it ramping up in an emotional flurry of him falling, to a slow emotional and chilling buildup from when he and Yotarou meet again and he purposely sinks back in and we see the death bell chime and a giant record-player stitching between different records of the different points of Miyokichi’s life, all the way to a true emotional payoff of everyone being there for him, including Sukeroku, who opens him up and brings the OP to a close, with the light already being out… The ED, “Hikobayuru” by Kana Shibue is also a very nice and relaxing jazz piece that takes us on a magical journey. We get to see many amazing landscapes and environments within the whimsical ED, and it's honestly a treat. While it is certainly not as amazing as the OP, it is still nice to listen to, and it even beats the first season’s OP much in the same vein as with the OPs. No matter what, Rakugo has never had an episode that didn't make me feel at least engaged and thoroughly entertained, with this season being no exception. The Rakugo performances, namely the ones played in full, are still quite a fun time, and I loved each episode. The scene in episode 1 with the duet of Yotarou and the geisha, the opening scene in episode 4 with Shin reciting Jugemu while walking, and the performance Konatsu gave with and in front of both Shin and the rest of the kindergarteners in episode 4, are some of the most endearing moments I've ever seen in an anime, with the latter moment also being one of the most heartwarming, thanks in no small part to the brilliant directing that really played up all of the emotions we were meant to be feeling. The stellar directing wowed me constantly, and the drama felt earned and properly done. I rarely found anything that even remotely made me not have a big grin on my face, which is a rarity, even among my favorites. I know that I’ve basically been gushing this whole time and have provided only the most minor of criticisms, but it’s because it was so damn good that I hardly found much wrong with it. Besides, the finale and penultimate episodes were just magical and full of wonder and nostalgia. I can't believe I have to get nostalgic as a teenager of all things, but hey, this anime is that powerful. Imagine when I watch this as an older man; suddenly I will cry my eyes out at the relatability. But that's a long, long time away from now. With that, onward to the conclusion of our journey, as we celebrate this final, glamorous performance. It seems almost ludicrous that this anime would be my first 10. It's crazy to think that this will only get better as I get older. This anime is a wonderful and poignant masterpiece and a lovely conclusion to one of the best anime of the new century. Art is the perfect way to describe this show, as it really explores and encapsulates both the effects and emotions of art. Nonetheless, it has come to a glorious end, and like the characters at the end of the series, we can look back fondly at all that happened here. Honestly, it's a pity that I've basically run out of things to say and that there are people who can and will do this show more justice than I ever could, for this wonderful work of art deserves more attention than it has gotten, and all of the praise it can get. Well, with that said, I bid you adieu.
Rakugo was certainly an interesting show when it debuted in 2016. A historical fiction piece about characters loving the art of acting certainly didn’t seem like it would grab an audience, but it quickly became a highly beloved title. One aspect about the show that was undercut was what was happening in the show’s present. Season 1 was mostly focused on the past, so it didn’t really get a whole lot of time to show off the current story and characters. Of course, as Yotaro says at the end of Season 1, the story was far from over and the second act to the “play” was revealed the following year. Season 2 continues the story of rakugo, offering new concepts and ideas wrapped in a bittersweet delivery. Though many have found favor with the season, placing it as equal or greater value judging by the averages, I would have to disagree. Unfortunately, the season simply cannot compare to what its predecessor laid out. At the end of Season 1 of SGRS, we see Yotaro become a shin’uchi among other important details, such as Yakumo becoming the president of the Rakugo Association and Konatsu announcing her pregnancy. The story starts off from this point in Season 2, refamiliarizing the viewer with the setting while introducing more characters into the central cast. Eisuke Higuchi, who asked to become Yakumo’s apprentice in the first season, has now become a writer and is obsessed with all things of the world of rakugo. Mangestu Tsuburaya serves as a struggling performer and comrade to Yotaro. Konatsu’s child, Shinnosuke, is a bright-eyed boy who becomes enamored with the world of rakugo, naturally as a result of the passion that Yotaro and Konatsu has. The addition of other characters certainly gives credence to that rakugo still strikes the heart of its audience and are important for a few plot points (such as Higuchi’s rakugo research), but they also contribute to a few problems discussed later. For the most part, the story is centered on Yakumo and Yotaro. Having grown older and experiencing the loss of Miyukichi and Sukeroku, Yakumo has become quite forlorn and grows more spiteful of the art he practices. In contrast, Yotaro is a goofier Sukeroku, having a more extroverted nature and playing up to his stage name of being “a fool”. However, he still carries great compassion for others and carries out what he feels is right, such as in the case of being a foster father to Konatsu’s child. Though I feel he does not carry the same charisma that made Sukeroku so enamored, he still serves as a great foil to Yakumo and Konatsu. As the opening to Season 2 plays, the first thought that entered my mind is that this would be the more melancholy of the two seasons. As if opening theme Imawa no Shinigami’s stop-start instrumentation and lyricism didn’t give it away, the OP is filled with grief. Starting with the characters facing the camera frowning (with the exception of Shinnosuke), it focuses on Yakumo in a number of sad ways, such as rejecting the assistance of others, falling off a cliff in suicide, and having Sukeroku’s ghost reveal the lack of heart/spirit underneath Yakumo’s robe. What’s more, the theme of the passing of time has been carried over to this season. As Yakumo grows older, it becomes more difficult to perform the art he loves and the memories of Miyukichi and Sukeroku still haunt him. Interlaced with this are plot twists and developments that reveal truths to previously known events. Though this is one of the main pulls to Season 2’s story, not every episode or moment is downcast. Though Yakumo delves deeper into his personal despair, Yotaro experiences many wonders as a new shin’uchi, hosting a television show and radio show where he performs his rakugo. Yotaro does face some conflicts of his own, but his side of the story ultimately is a contrast to Yakumo’s. As Yakumo’s story begins to close, Yotaro’s story blossoms with his growing family, friends and rakugo career. It shows the perseverance of rakugo and how it will continue to blossom as long as there are those who care for it. This begs the question as to what about this season makes it less captivating than the previous season. One minor aspect is in the season’s sound. Compared to the seductive allure of first season’s opening, its funereal ending theme, and the anxious crescendos that were littered through the first season’s key moments, the second season doesn’t carry that same punch either in the music’s arrangement or it’s placement. Again, this is more minor and will be more relative as to the moods of the viewers watching it. If I had to give a single answer, I believe it ultimately comes back to the cast of characters and themes of the show that make it falter. Season 1 of SGRS showed the growth of two rakugo superstars, the complex clashes they had with one another and finding their place within rakugo. While it didn’t go as in depth as I would have liked it, the focus on the Yakumo/Sukeroku relationship and rakugo’s waver over time made it an interesting watch. Season 2 expands this a bit by adding more supporting characters to show how rakugo has shaped the supporting character’s lives. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with characters like Mangestu or Higuchi, they present ideas or concepts that aren’t as explored as I would have liked, resulting in them being less memorable or mostly used for moving the plot along. Higuchi’s love of rakugo makes him want to write new stories for the medium. Mangestu struggles to captivate an audience with his rakugo and wants to inherit the Yakumo name for himself. Yotaro wishes to see Konatsu perform rakugo, but is given resistance from her saying the art is a “man’s field”. All of these ideas point back to Season 1’s big theme that rakugo is being eschewed for other forms of art. These are great opportunities to show rakugo’s need for change as it’s audience was rapidly decreasing by the end of the first season. This statement is hard to be believed during Season 2, where rakugo seems just as big, if not bigger than ever. While it’s true it’s due to these issues being resolved, the lack of discussion/development from problem to conclusion hinders their impact. It’s the equivalent of being given a math problem and it’s answer, but not knowing how to solve it. As a result, big character victories or plot points found in Season 1 feel less sharp in Season 2. Those looking for moments such as Sukeroku’s expulsion from the association or Yakumo’s geisha performance awakening his love for performing will only find weaker substitutes at best. This may be the overarching problem with the series. There are many explicit moments that show the anime’s darker side, such as the “lover’s suicide” and Yakumo’s haunted visions, but it’s too attached to a “feel good” origin point that the big picture can get muddled. The biggest contributor to this may be the show’s frequent usage of large time skips, showing big moments in time for a character’s life but hurting the overall impact of the show’s core themes. Then again, it is a necessary evil. Processes such as earning futatsume and shin’uchi rankings would take far too long without these big skips and could possibly be seen as repetitive if Yotaro’s story played out similar to the co-leads in Season 1. Still, seeing a more explicit outcome to the show’s questions would be preferred to the emotion it tries to stir in the last couple episodes. Overall, I give Rakugo Season 2 a 5.5/10. Unfortunately, Rakugo S2 is at best a lesser variation of things seen in Season 1. At worst, it is a few good ideas without proper execution. All things considered, I do think this season will have its fans, in particular if you were head over heels for the first season and are more prone to emotional memories of that same season. If you found the first season a fine show but nothing more, I’d recommend passing on Season 2, as it won’t cement anything you didn’t already love about the show. Do you like or dislike this anime? If you haven't watched it, are you encouraged to watch it or not? Leave a comment on my profile telling me what you think of the anime and/or my review. Thanks for reading and have a blessed day!
~~~_"...an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone."_ ~~~ ~~~_- Inception_ ~~~ _Here be spoilers._ ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/Shouwa-Genroku-2-12-87.jpg)~~~ When I write reviews, I often try and boil down the essence of the piece of media in my mind to one word. With Rakugo, it's tricky. It's a little amorphous, defying characterisation. But after I finished the last episode, it was clear to me - "confident". Every aspect of this series (and I'm using this to review the series as a whole, by the way, because I think you absolutely must take the two together or not at all) absolutely oozes confidence. First, in the viewer, expecting them to have a commitment to the characters and the stories without flagging clearly the implications. I want to talk about the exceptional ways the rakugo stories weave themselves into the narratives a lot more later, but for now suffice it to say that the narrative has absolute conviction that you buy into enough to recognise rakugo stories from the first few lines. Second, in the direction. There are genuinely 5-10 minute scenes where absolutely *nothing* happens but a single character sits in the middle of the screen in a wide shot telling a story. The direction in this series is genuinely an absolute astonishment and properly novel feature, because it somehow manages to sell you truly human stories and empathy with some drawings on a screen, and captivate your attention through small and tiny subtle animation details. From enhancing comedy to playing to true pathos, the direction achieves a huge amount of things. ~~~img600(https://imgur.com/o9gKK8S.jpg)~~~ Third, in the voice acting -- absolutely *crucial* to selling the rakugo aspect of the series is that the voice actors have to be able to sell all these tiny little nuances in the storytelling and even do so over a wide range of ages. Akira Ishida, the voice of Kaworu in Evangelion, delivers (as Kikuhiko) what must be simply one of the most incredible voice acting performances in the medium. Fourth, the characters themselves are confident. And goddamnit, they better be. All of the rakugo performers have to have the confidence that they can captivate an entire audience simply with their voice, hand movements, and a few rudimentary props. But more than that, they're ultimately confident in the things that they believe in. Although the realism of the setting belies this fact, characters are immensely committed to their ideals here. Really, truly and genuinely. ~~~img600(https://imgur.com/YXaE8MR.jpg)~~~ One more quick note on names: I will use whatever name seems most convienient for a character. The character variously known as Bon, Kikuhiko and Yakumo will just be Kikuhiko. Hatsutaro and Sukeroku will just be Sukeroku. Etc. >_"...a spur-of-the moment thing" - Plot_ ~~~img600(https://imgur.com/LUbRcpu.jpg)~~~ Where to begin? This is a simple story. There are none of the emotional histrionics of other melodrama series. No flashiness. In some scenes, the animation genuinely lacks. But it is also a deeply complicated, messy, sometimes confusing, and obscure story. In short, it is a *human* story. Nothing more, nothing less. This, almost alone among its peers, really deserves the title of "character drama". The deep layers of nuance in this story are deeply satisfying and deliciously unfolded. Necessarily, then, whatever summary I might offer is going to erase the nuance of this story. So I'll spend a lot more time talking about the characters. Two comments on plot, though: First, I am in love with the frame narrative of almost the entire first season. It is just a brilliant way to present a story about telling stories. Moreover, there are small hints scattered here and there throughout the first season that we are not dealing with a completely reliable narrator. We know Kikuhiko lies about things. This is a setup that is paid off to simply genius effect in season two, but it never feels forced or stupid. It's just a completely natural way to introduce the story. With Yotaro standing in for the audience, we sit and let Kikuhiko outline his story. Layers upon layers. Just utterly brilliant. ~~~img600(https://imgur.com/76XhuHY.jpg)~~~ Second, the time skipping is handled with immense delicacy throughout the entire series, but especially well in the second season. Gentle reminders here and there flag up exactly how much time has gone by, and the timeskips *always* serve some purpose. Because they're within a frame narrative, it feels perfectly natural that Kikuhiko would skip the bits he thinks are unimportant. Notice that a huge amount of time is given to the character interactions between Kikuhiko, Sukeroku and Miyokichi and very little time given to solely Kikuhiko. This itself is character development - what do our characters care about? It's always, ALWAYS, shown as well as told, and sometimes it isn't told. >_"the world of Inokori itself..." - Art, Animation and Background_ ~~~img600(https://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/c_scale,f_auto,fl_progressive,pg_1,q_80,w_800/ncxflbzr6yly7rjhrbre.png)~~~ Art and animation within this series is very important and simultaneously not important at all. The realism of the setting means that there's not a huge amount of innovation that can be done...but this series innovates regardless. Within the rakugo stories, the character animation is simply breathtaking, with every stylized nuance absolutely captured in the animation. The backgrounds are usually dark and out-of the way, with the characters absolutely in the fore. However, when called for, the backgrounds become simply stunning. There's a lot of work done in some more allegorical moments by the backgrounds, and it never fails to strike absolutely precisely. Episode 11 of Season 2 has a deeply inventive look at the afterlife (whoops, spoiler) and there's a lot of effort put into quiet little moments. The colour palette is saturated but never overly bright, and there's a strong sense of colour identity to the characters, with some banging character design, really tracing maturation. Especial shoutout to the progression in design of Kikuhiko from a small, aloof child to a strong young man, to a wise old man, to a skeletal ancient in the last few episodes, with such a strong sense of continuity throughout. Especial shoutout also to Shinnosuke's design, really managing to catch what characterises both Sukeroku and Kikuhiko. It's very impressively done. ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Shouwa-Genroku-09-17.jpg)~~~ I've already gushed a lot about the character animation, but I want to tease out why it's so good - it's because every movement that's animated serves a purpose. Whether intentional or not, the characters in this series sell their every move as realistic and also as part of the story-within-the story. There's at least two meanings to almost every movement made, and it's just an exceptional achievement. Finally, the direction is good enough to give you cues on how good the rakugo is early on. It's obvious Yotaro's Dekigokokoro is good. It's equally obvious Kiku's early efforts are terrible. But this never has to be said. It's so clear from the animation and the beads of sweat rolling down the neck and face of the characters and where the camera chooses to focus. Brilliant, too, are the scenes when a character does "someone else's" rakugo. You can see both characters in the performance. Incredibly, the effect of someone imitating someone imitating someone is legitimately created. It's layered. It's effective as all hell. It's just titanic. ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Shouwa-Genroku-09-5.jpg)~~~ But the art, animation, and background is all - *all* in service of the character acting. More on this in a second. >_"We humans are pathetic creatures, aren't we?" - Characters and Screenplay_ I have no hesitation in saying that Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu has by far the best screenplay of any anime. It should be framed and put on display. It is absolutely breathtakingly good. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. One. In the first few episodes, it succeeds utterly in selling a completely foreign and ancient art form from a culture that is very distant from the West. But more than that, it also sells the infrastructure *around* that art form -- all the little performers' nuances and infighting. Two. The ways the rakugo stories are set up and cut eliminates the need for the whole story to ever be told (although, incredibly, almost all of the important ones are eventually told in full). Three. The rakugo stories come to be referred to by their opening lines, and (what I consider the most incredible feat of all) any semi-attentive viewer can recognise the four or five (Shinigami, Inokori, Shibahama, Nozarashi, maybe Jugemu) that are the most important in the narrative with just an opening line. This is an indescribably special feeling. It feels like you're an insider. That you get it. That you understand rakugo, even if you don't. And your mind just races ahead, making the connections. "Wait, he's doing Akegarasu?" Just like the characters in the early episodes, you instantly understand what the rakugo means on a multitude of layers. There's an especially brilliant fakeout in the second season where you think one story will be performed and another is performed, both of which you'll recognise. It's an incredibly special moment. There is just nothing else like it. Four. The character writing is sparse but so, so careful. The speech mannerisms of the characters perfectly fit them. There's tenderness, and there's violence, and there's funny. Five. There's funny. This show is *really* funny. It's not hilarious, but almost all of the comedy beats are just very successful. ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Shouwa-Genroku-2-06-10.jpg)~~~ And then we have the characters the screenplay paints on the screen. These are fundamentally *interesting*. They are nuanced. Shrek-like, they have layers. Is there a main character? Kind of. If there was one, it would be Kikuhiko. This is his story. It's a story about him, and it's no accident that the climax of the story involves his death. But all of the other characters in this story don't just serve him. They serve themselves. From the second Miyokichi steps on screen, we just know that she is *bad news* without ever being told. Sukeroku is funny, charming, charismatic, and doomed. Yotaro has a substantial coming-of-age story. Konatsu comes to terms with her fathers. The side characters, as well, have defined motives and goals, which they work toward in meaningful ways. Mangetsu, Sensei, the mob boss. All of these are *human*. They're never there just for plot contrivances. >_"From Yoshiwara to Senju, I am without peer!" - Voice Acting_ ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Shouwa-Genroku-2-04-9.jpg)~~~ What voice actors are being asked to do by this series is an awful lot. There's always at least two layers - they have to inhabit their character, and then they have to perform rakugo (hard by itself) as that character, not as themselves. Sometimes there's even a a third - they have to slot the rakugo into the narrative. They have to be good, or bad, or confident, or imitating, or unsure. Every single rakugo performer absolutely slays it. It's just an astonishing performance all around. There are no weak spots. Akira Ishida as Kikuhiko absolutely destroys every time he's up on the cushion, with his best performances reserved for the soft, gentle, aged voice of the old Kikuhiko. Kouichi Yamadera as Sukeroku absolutely blasts the screen with his confident rakugo. Tomokazu Seki - Yotaro - portrays both terrible, inexperienced, and exceptional rakugo with equal gusto. Megumi Hayashibara, another Evangelion alumnus, brings a sinuous and slithery edge to Miyokichi -- a genuine seductress. Yuu Kobayashi as Konatsu has incredible emotional range (and can also do funny, apparently!). It's just so, so good. This isn't just the benchmark. This is an entirely different bench. >_"The sound of the bell from Mt. Benten in Asakusa..." - Sound_ ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/Shouwa-Genroku-03-7.jpg)~~~ Sound in the series is always very good. From the little motifs that play as the characters walk out (by the way, when Yotaro starts using Kiku's music, that's another one of those brilliant little insider moments) to the gentle and stirring pieces in moments of high drama, it's all absolutely hitting. There's some very good work when one of the characters does crummy rakugo, with tense pieces ratcheting up the emotional stakes and stress. Traditional Japanese instruments like the shamisen and taiko drums are foremost, which, of course, is a cheeky wink to the fact that the whole series is just one big story being told. The OPs are both superb, but Season 2's just takes it for me, with the animation absolutely top notch in both and some well thought out storyboarding underpinning them. The EDs are gentle pieces of instrumental music that signal the end of the episode the second the cut happens. The music always enhances, never detracts. The focus is always on the dialogue as well, with the music usually in the background. >_"...it went out." - Themes_ ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Shouwa-Genroku-2-07-82.jpg)~~~ Let's talk about the themes of this series, and why they mean so much. The first theme I wanna talk about is about love. A lot of characters in this series love each other in a lot of different ways. Patrial love between Kiku and Shinnosuke, and Kiku and Konatsu. Fraternal love between Konatsu and Yotaro. Romantic love between Miyokichi and Kiku. But the pair that anchors this series together is Kiku and Sukeroku, and it's a deeply human relationship. Contra the fujos, it isn't romantic, but it certainly is deep and intense. The two men are like brothers, and they love each other so much. It is hard not to read Sukeroku's Shibahama as an arrow aimed directly at Kiku's heart, a thank you for everything Kiku had done. Rakugo says that love anchors any relationship there is, including the love the performers have for rakugo. They'll do anything for the art form they love. It's a deeply optimistic and profoundly beautiful view of what love is, despite all the tragedy that the plot visits on the characters. Kiku is loved by all the people around him, and they just refuse to let him go. ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Shouwa-Genroku-11-45.jpg)~~~ The second one I wanna talk about is performance. It's hard not to see the whole series as a sort of extended commentary on what it is to be a performer or any kind of artist. Rakugo says that art is what you put into it -- at least, that's what Kiku thinks. But we get a lot more nuanced commentary than just that. Yes, there's what you put into it, your ego. But the degree to which you let it in will influence the art. We're shown, not told this. We see no ego (Yotaro), all ego (Sukeroku), somewhere in between (Kikuhiko). And it's hard not to agree with this characterisation of what exactly it is to be an artist. It's an engaging commentary, and it's one done through the prism of very human characters. Look, this story doesn't reinvent the wheel. But it has a goddamn good look at that wheel, and it has a lot of interesting things to say about that wheel. There are so many layers to this story that I could talk about it for genuinely two or three thousand more words. But this'll do for a review. >_"I can't have this becoming a dream again." - Conclusion_ ~~~img600(https://lostinanime.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Shouwa-Genroku-2-07-46.jpg)~~~ I honestly, genuinely, cannot find anything to criticise about this series. I really, really can't. It is perfect. It is a deep, engaging and moving character drama of the highest order. It is simply some of the best television ever created. I cried multiple times. Episode 11 of Season 2 is just deeply cathartic and intensely moving. But it is only that because of all the leadup, and all of the work done in earlier season. There is just a tremendous amount of consolidation between the whole series, as themes and ideas and, most of all, stories, stay constant even as the plot whips our characters around and as time rolls on and on. The ending, as Kikuhiko is ferried to "the other side" by Matsuda, as he performs Nozarashi one last time is just spot-on. Go watch Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu. ~~~img600(https://imgur.com/YvC2VgI.jpg)~~~ >"The snows of the surrounding mountains melted, filling the great rivers, which rolled forcefully along, with a southern tide..." ___ \- Pointy
Warning, may contain minor spoilers. Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju, I wasn't quite sure what this anime was about when I first heard about it, but I was curious since I have heard many others praising it. At first, I watched this anime in the hopes to learn more about Rakugo, however, what I got, in the end, was a lesson about life and death. img(https://wallpapercave.com/wp/wp4091162.png) --- Story: The plot, just like S1, is outstanding and it really grabs your attention and keeps you at the edge of your seat. Drama, comedy, romance, mystery, Rakugo has it all. It attracts you into the story through its unique storytelling and makes you feel like you are living in the Rakugo world. Rakugo takes storytelling to another level and I have never been so emotionally attached to an anime like this. --- Characters: In Rakugo S2, we see the present-day Yotaro and Yakumo, both working together to help Rakugo gain more popularity and acceptance. This season adds more depth and development to the characters, especially Yotaro and Konatsu. In addition, every character presents complex emotions, which makes them feel more real and relatable. Konatsu, for example, shows forgiveness towards Yakumo when she realizes how much he has done for her. Yotaro is first portrayed (even named) as a simpleton, but later on, we see that he is someone who takes initiative and confronts his challenges. I couldn't help but respect Yotaro for his determination to enjoy everything he does. Although each character has their problems and flaws – just like a real human – they are overall likable and relatable. img(https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3T-tpdlDJ_0/U58-7gsnxfI/AAAAAAAAAk8/VusX6NDvCD4/s0/kumota-rakugo01.jpg) --- Art & Music: The art in Rakugo is stunning and it helps to capture the little aspects well. Although not as impressive as some other anime in the medium, the animation is certainly unique and stands out. In addition, the OST is arguably one of the best in the medium. The use of the soundtracks during some moments chilled me to the bone and provides more emotional value. img(https://wallpapercave.com/wp/wp4091143.png) --- My thoughts: To me, Rakugo is an anime that exploits the complexity of human nature and human emotions. It accurately portrays the incomprehensible emotions that we humans experience every day, whether it would be love, hate, happiness, or sadness. Such incomprehensible emotions that we experience are what make us human. Rakugo has helped me realize several things and has made me question my own beliefs. A big theme in Rakugo is humanity, humans desire intimacy, even if it means getting hurt because of it. Perhaps that is what it means to be a human: to make friends, to fall in love, to build a family, and to die. The relationships between each character in Rakugo help establish the idea of humans depending on each other to move forward, whether it's Sukeroku inspiring Yakumo to continue doing rakugo or Yotaro inspiring Yakumo to keep living. As the viewer, you get attached to the characters and their relationships and often will emphasize their ideals. img(http://www.anime-evo.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/Rakugo2-11-21-700x385.png) Rakugo also makes an emphasis on death: humans fear death, even the thought of dying makes us shudder. Rakugo presents death as a way of gaining freedom because that is when humans are truly free and atoned from their sins. Live is full of hardships and loneliness, but the relationships we build, the people we meet, the places we go, the things we do during that short life will all help make life much more enjoyable. Rakugo encourages the viewers to keep on living because, in the end, they will be rewarded. img(http://www.anigamers.com/uploads/entries/Showa_Genroku_S2_20170129202512.JPG) --- Conclusion: Rakugo is a story about finding and developing your own identity, building relationships, and facing others. It is a story of life, I have never felt the urge to cry this much after finishing an anime. I have learned many things from watching this anime and I hope that future viewers will also take away something. Most importantly, you should enjoy watching it. img(https://anigamers.com/uploads/entries/ShowaFamilyTree_20170916091020.jpg) Thanks for reading my review and have a nice day!
Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu | Descending Stories Season 2 Review. Spoilers for Season 1 + S2EP1-2 https://anilist.co/review/15670 Review for Season 1 With the flashback finally over we can get back to the main story. Our MMC is continuing to rise up in the ranks of Rakugo. His shows being more and more popular. Him becoming more and more successful. The MMC2 (Yakumo) is having his old age catch up to him. The FMC gives birth and the story moves on. We learn a little bit more about the MMC's backstory and his Yakuza related people. His relationship with the FMC also becomes more romantic but in a subtle way. Before I start talking about this series, I do wanna talk about my previous review as well. When I wrote my original review, Something happened that hadn't happened in a long time. Something I forget happens when I write my reviews. I pissed some people off. I had gotten too comfortable. However there is a distinction in comparison to my previous reviews that I my previous review was positive. It ends with me saying that you should watch the series. So why are people are riled up? Well from what I can tell the problem is the fact that I did not analyze the series enough. There is a lot of nuances and subtlety in play in here that is going way over my head. Unlike most people that are just spouting shit there was someone that explained what they meant instead of copy pasting words they found in the dictionary. Honestly, I don't particularly about that stuff either. Which I feel is a fair assumption to make. You can write 70 pages on why the main character is wearing a blue shirt but that doesn't make it more interesting or more enjoyable to watch. That is the difference. I do like understanding the nuances and the little details but these are still little details and I don't think they are enough to justify it being a masterpiece. I do appreciate the show a bit more now but not enough to change my overall score of the series. For example The impact of the war are not bashed into you like other media. The effects are simply shown. Japan fought a good fight and lost. Shouwa Rokugo's silence in scenes speaks volumes though. No one ever says "I'm sorry". They know. Its still a solid 7.5. Still something you should watch at least once. But Its also dragged down by stuff that I frankly just didn't give enough of a shit about. This series however is... mildly worse than Season 1. I really liked the character dynamics of Yakumo and his best friend but the MMC doesn't have that kind of relationship with anyone. He has a closer relationship with his master (Yakumo) but that didn't really scream a strong dynamic. Its good, great even, but nothing on the level of Yakumo and his shounen rivalry. There really isn't anything major that happens in the series that I can't really say without spoilers. I mean I liked the characters. I enjoyed the story, The relationship between the characters in a nice way without it feeling like they needed a major catalyst to change there relationship. I also especially got bored around episode 8. Which is why I considered the series mildly worse. To me this where the series kinda ended and we are just in this incredibly long epilogue. There is also the issues of Shin's father that gets kind of addressed and I really hate what the author has done with this question. Fuck the author. Like I said I felt bored after episode 8 and the reason for that is just I stopped enjoying the SOL moments of the series. I liked them in the first season yeah. But here it just didn't do enough to keep me entertained. I kept waiting for the main story to hit. Writing this review I feel confused. I did like most of the series. There is some random garbage here and there but a lot of what other people told me also feels I'm missing something about the series. But I also feel like that's bullshit. Not that I missed anything but the fact that me missing something would completely change my enjoyment of the show. Again I want to state I quite liked the series. It falls somewhat in episode 8 but its not a big deal. I still think the series is great. Even after finding out what I missed about the series I'm indifferent. I feel like people are putting too much strain on the fine details like how I'm focusing on the technicalities of the show sometimes. In the end I don't know. I don't believe I watched the show wrong. The author does not decide how his audience perceives and views his show. Otherwise everyone would have the same fucking opinion on everything and that's just not how it works. Look at like this. I don't care about the small details and the relative bullshit that people seem to be making up about the series. But lets also add that I'm completely wrong for having these thoughts. I still think the series is good and something worth watching. You can just enjoy the surface value of what the show has offer. What I'm trying to say is... Watch the series. Its good. 7/10
img1000(https://i.imgur.com/grfBEdm.png) >"The art of Rakugo is about creating empathy" Descending Stories. The hook is the promise of a homage to an obscure artform. The content is a devastating character drama inflicted on all sides, throughout generations. Rakugo Shinjuu has always been fascinating. There's no clear connotations you can attach it to, no description or definition you can box it into. It's an everchanging, sprawling tale about life and humanity. Encapsulating a fragment of emotional complexity and spiritual dexterity within the decaying art form of Rakugo. It presents a poignant case study of the burden of love—be it for art, family, or friendship. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/dFktFUf.png) Yotaru bring us back to where we left off, revealing that it has been, to his surprise, an entire year of bowing his head down, coinciding with the time it has been since I last watched Shinjuu Rakugo. The show is nice enough to present us a skilful recap in the form of a rakugo. But it expects us to be familiar with all the rakugo it introduced and the connections it had crafted beforehand. Every frame is purposeful, evoking a distinct emotion or a recollection, whether through the synchrony of Yota’s imitation to that of Sukeroku’s or the distinct bond between a performer and the performance. Every iota of information is intentional and builds off of the introductions we were given in the previous season. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/unZreCn.png) Take the opening. It’s a quiet, dreadful meditation on what’s to come. The images subtly foreshadow an episode’s content. Notice Sukeroku’s eyes in Episode 5’s opening, or the CD disc with Miyokichi in the cover in Episode 7’s sequence and how they connect with the events pertaining to those episodes. It’s a bold, meticulous statement on how thoughtful, intricate and deliciously realised all of its components are to the point were a single missed frame means an important piece of information lost. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/nfS5oOz.png) This isn’t to say Rakugo strives to confuse or overwhelm its viewers. In fact it does the opposite. The story takes a linear approach navigating a drama that is considerably less intense (for the first few episodes at least) than its predecessor. Which has confused many into thinking this is weaker or a less worthy sequel. But it's here where the overarching narrative of “Descending Stories” truly reaches its thematic climax, offering profound resolutions to its myriad threads. This is better, and better as in not-even-close better. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/VvgYeSf.png) Yotaru’s task this season is extremely daunting. Where the previous season was navigating the shifting landscape and decaying interest in Rakugo, this one places the sole burden of revitalizing it on poor Yota, the jovial protégée of the cold and distant Yakumo, who has nothing in mind but to wither away with the art he has devoted his life to. (But… why?) There’s a great deal of emphasis on minor characters fleshing out and and influencing the mindset of both characters and audience alike. Higuchi is someone who is outwardly keen to preserving, or rather, evolving the trade of rakugo by writing new stories, which Yakumo is unsurprisingly against. Matsuda is sweet and an almost kindred spirit that has been a companion to our cast since the very beginning. Someone who has seen these lives unfold and lives to tell the tale to others. An intimate witness like us. I love that immortal old man. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/RQgPx8R.png) Rakugo's minimalist presentation belies its complexity. It is necessary to note the difference between animation and cinematography, because despite boasting almost static animation, it is genuinely one of the most beautifully storyboarded shows out there. Tiniest of mannerisms are taken into consideration to craft holistically compelling performances. Which complements the core idea of rakugo, of evoking emotions through presentation and voice. img383(https://i.imgur.com/aXQGsMF.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/Wyc4xZS.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/zWefZ2W.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/NVKpIph.png) ~~~[Miyokichi's shinigami. The manifestation of Yakumo's guilt]~~~ The voices carry an immense burden. Not only because they have to sell the emotions of a story, but because they have to sell the characters doing it too. And characters in this show are antonyms of static. Yotaru is perhaps the most striking example of voice acting being imperative to a character, because the same voice actor has to vocally paint his journey from a loud, coarse, naïve but ecstatic voice of rakugo to one that can transform into the colourful cast of the story he tells. Any semblance of progression absolutely hinges on the voice actors far more than it would in any other story, and they are beautifully captured by the unseen talent. It’s incredible how deliveries, not just tone, can be so varied and still contain the essence of the same story. Jugemu’s comedy is told as a poem by Konatsu, whereas Yakumo’s approaches it with technical skill, Sukeroku with personal biases and Yotaru with sincerity. Higuchi reveals that the stories themselves are products of modernity (the original ending for Jugemu is in fact gloomier than the revised text). He is right in his argument that any artform should be willing to accept change if it wants to remain relevant in a modern society. img383(https://i.imgur.com/ggQGn1B.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/CyxxSaK.png) ~~~[The dynamic between an apprentice and a master as parallel paths]~~~ I would love to dissect and present flaws from this show. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while and nothing about this feels wrong. Even the controversial hinting towards Shin’s father makes sense because rakugo or storytelling is, more than anything, a deception. For a brief duration you are susceptible to the whims of a storyteller. Futatabi-hen's shattering revelation was the unreliability of Yakumo’s narration. Who’s to say this doesn’t apply to Konatsu as well? img1000(https://i.imgur.com/VAPbh8C.png) In the end, the knowledge Shin’s father doesn’t matter, because his _actual_ father is Yotaru. Where Konatsu was conceived by Miyokichi as a rebellious act, Shin acts as a revitalization of Yakumo’s existence and by extension, Rakugo’s. Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu: Sukeroku Futatabi-hen is a mouthful. But the title is apt. A tradition descending through generations is bound to change. It’s the idea of change that makes Yakumo unwilling to let go his craft that has become almost unanimous with his existence. But it is also the difficulty of letting go a craft that has brought him so much despair, hope, lose, tragedy and ultimately, family. How can you trust something so deeply imbedded in your being to a world that is continually becoming disinterested? A world that considers it a relic? Each character has a different relationship with Rakugo that is amplified through the generational mindset. Yakumo is tragically bound to it, Yotaru was given meaning through it, Konatsu as suffered through it but ultimately accepts it and Shinnuske is the incarnation of the hope of its succession for the foreseeable future. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/wvD2XNd.png) Death is not the end. Any spiritual thought will argue that death is but a bridge towards a destination. A beginning rather than an end. The death of Rakugo is not the death of memories, of the love it brought when it touched others, of the tragedy that was born of it. It is rather a rebirth. img383(https://i.imgur.com/wryxzkj.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/0fYetmd.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/G34JthO.png) img383(https://i.imgur.com/qjSXHGd.png) Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu is Yakumo’s story more than anyone else’s. He is the personification of his craft. A boy estranged from his dreams of being a dancer by his leg injury is given a chance with a “lesser” trade of verbal performance arts. Negotiating his talents and realising them all the same. His the idea of his loss is so monumental that is reverberates throughout the entire country. Eventually when he does pass away, we’re not given a traditional ceremony but a reunion in a buddhist afterlife. Cementing the idea of death not being the end, for Yakumo, Sukeroku, Miyokichi and even Rakugo itself. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/Zoo3qHc.jpeg) >“I never worried for a second that we’d ever lose rakugo. After all – something this good could never go away!” - Yotaru's final benediction. The amount of painstaking details poured into this show is, despite what I may have said earlier, immensely overwhelming to the point where I feel like no matter how much I write I’ll fail at properly addressing the sheer brilliance that this show operates with. It is a tremendous journey, one that continually challenges you to keep up with its twists and turns, its human contradiction and blossoming ideas. Every moment I have spent with this show has forever etched itself onto my being. I am eternally grateful to this show and to everyone who has worked on it. Thank you. img1000(https://i.imgur.com/CSURGQI.png)
A beautiful multi-generational masterpiece that dives deep into the rich art of Rakugo, the history of Japan, and a character study. The whole story starts with “The God of Death.” it what attracted Yotaro (during imprisonment) to the Eighth Generation, and it’s a prevalent motif of the series as a whole. This could be in relation to the art of Rakugo in general, the Eighth Generation (Kikuhiko), and the many burdens the characters face in this series. Season 1 and Season 2 should definitely be watched together, as they are two halves of the same picture. Season 1 primarily deals with postwar Japan, and Kikuhiko is the primary lead. Season 2 is a balance between Yotarou and Kikuhiko and how they navigate the present. One of the most amazing aspects of the series is definitely the performances. Tomokazu Seki, Akira Ishida, Megumi Hayashibara, and so many fantastic voice actors went above and beyond. Voice acting is already an immense gig then add Rakugo to the mix, and it certainly will be a challenge to tackle. Yet these performances felt so effortless, how brilliantly they captured the people in this profession. I could only imagine it would hit even harder understanding the language, as the nuances, emotion, and feeling poured into every word performing and outside of Rakugo. This is not even mentioning the brilliant direction by director Shinichi Omata, Kan Kannou's legendary soundtrack, an authentic yet modern soundtrack that feels reminiscent of jazz. Which I guess could make sense as Jazz started as a black art form during the Harlem Renaissance, whereas Rakugo is a timeless Japanese art, and both have evolved throughout the centuries. Studio DEEN's reputation is often quite odd. On one hand, they were the studio responsible for the masterpiece that is Angel’s Egg and the beloved Trust and Betrayal, but on the other hand, there are also some very unremarkable projects. Nevertheless, this adaptation was brilliant, everyone who worked on the anime pulled were at the top of their game, especially its stunning art direction. The character arcs are all brilliant, especially in the context of what this show sought to achieve in terms of its themes. Kikuhiko obviously being my favourite, and there’s many other characters who are flawed and realistic people. I loved how the series ended, especially the last two episodes, it critically examines the core themes the show has been exploring throughout and brings across a message I’m doubtful will disappoint anyone. Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju is a character study, it’s a history of assumed dying art (if it will live on for the future generations), a history of Japan. It’s about legacy, sin, forgiveness, and the bonds that we form from our beginning to our end to the afterlife. It’s about a lot of things, which I believe you should contemplate what it means to you when you watch this show. It technically took years for me to watch it, I’m not sure why in all honesty, but I’m glad I stuck around and completed this masterpiece. _P.S. When watching it, make sure the first episode is 90 minutes (referring to Season 1) and not broadcast a 46-minute version, as the former is a director’s cut which is incorporated in the Blu-ray releases._