Cruel Angel Theses

kimikiss pure rouge is turning out to be surprisingly realistic, thoroughly enjoyable, and almost Shinkai-sque in terms of endearment. I’ve come to the conclusion that the multiple main character approach employed is working for rather than against it, contrary to what I’ve heard: those who’ve played the game have reportedly been upset about the decision to split it rather than have the one guy go through all the girls before settling down with one like every other harem anime out there.

You know there’s something inexcusably wrong when fans would rather settle for an approach that’s been done to death and worn to bits so many times. Do we really have to settle for second-best just for the sake of adhering rigidly to the source’s structure? Not if the director of kimikiss has his way about it.

What I liked about this episode was how it’s finally revealing its hand, showing the way it’s playing out the theme of distance — not the tragic romance, almost idealistic, explored-to-death by Shinkai distance, but a distance much closer to home that we can all relate to; whether it’s the hesitant attraction of a shy couple, aloof and distant partners, or even a dream being lived out through another, it’s not a far stretch of the imagination, and I’m liking it.

it’s not shown here, but apparently the hand gesture thing is synonymous with kimikiss, if the parody tags on Akibakko and Danbooru are anything to go by

The problem with the conventional formula, whether it’s shoujo character development or the arc of a chosen girl in a harem, is that it’s totally predictable. Shoujo does it in such a self-conscious way; once the main character and her boyfriend are well-developed (pun unintended) and out of the way, what happens is that the usually huge side cast is developed upon little by little, the focus being pronounced, so much so that the main cast is totally ignored at this point in favour of the side ones.

With harem you have it no better — as Clannad will attest to, albeit less painfully, the issue of attending to each girl is solved by conveniently dividing their story up into small arcs, which means that in a 26 episode series one girl will be getting an average of anywhere from 4 to 5 episodes of dedicated screentime. While Clannad has managed to steer clear of this so far through reeling in the rest of the cast and exploiting Sunohara for checks and balances, it doesn’t change the fact that anything done in this vein is usually painfully formulaic.

kimikiss steers clear of either by focusing on three main characters at once. The end result is simultaneously refreshing and innovative — not only does it feel less forced, it also has an omniscient quality reminiscent of what a slice of life series would usually employ, which makes the entire viewing experience a creature of more acceptable taste than would be the norm.

I felt that the sheer QUALITY shining through in this episode stemmed from how three utterly unremarkable sub-plots, when told together, suddenly became nothing short of awesome. It could be due to the different perspectives coming together that don’t feel as contrived when compared to other shows of similar make. It could also be a placebo effect stemming from how it’s Honey and Clover’s director at work here, so I’m not ruling out the possibility of rose-tinted glasses just yet.

Yuumi and Kouichi’s interaction is true to life and really sweet, for starters. I can really relate to the clumsy, wavering interaction (God knows I’ve been in a similar position recently) and how the mutual unspoken attraction is there, yet they’re taking just so damn long to get their act together. Kouichi for one gets my approval for being the groan-worthy epitome of someone newly in love — those pointless conversations where they say hi and bye? Been there, done that. I suspect we all might have at one point or another, too.

In this distance of would-be lovers, Yuumi in particular wins points for being the epitome of the sweet, soft-spoken type that people in general seem to pass over. I’ll come clean and say I’m biased towards them because of how I can relate towards both Kouichi’s attraction to her and their general behaviour — this is distance, albeit the least painful and most gratifying to watch for the inevitable happy ending (spoiler: the guy gets the girl), even if the process is something rather wince-inducing. Shouting at your anime is something I’ve rarely done, if ever at all, but the scene where Kouichi blurts out “karate!” instead of “karaoke” touched a nerve with me.

That potential m�nage a trios that Kazuki might have with Eriko and Asuka isn’t all that different. While I understood Asuka’s intentions to train Kazuki even before she voiced them out, and pitied her for it. I was expecting that revelation much later, definitely not in the very same episode, but it appears that kimikiss isn’t wasting any time on developing their characters. It’s only natural to live out your dreams through someone else if they have the potential and chance that you don’t, and now she’s not just another random, noisy, and irritating side character to me.

The inability to communicate effectively, or even a gulf of understanding between one person and another means that distance isn’t just limited to the definition of an impossible, physical one, but still applicable even up close. Eriko, for instance, has a distance that’s more social than physical in her inability to open herself up to the people around her. While it was amusing to see Kazuki as an effective example of how guys can feel used too, she’s treating him as nothing more than collateral damage at the moment, and I’m looking forward to seeing how this develops.

Finally, Mao and Eiji, while by no means groundbreaking or revolutionary in terms of predicament, portray the distance of loneliness quite well. Eiji feels alienated by everyone’s talk about entrance exams; Mao, as revealed in this episode, doesn’t know how to get across to her legion of suitors, and while she’s open to the idea of having a boyfriend, she’d rather they see her in person rather than drop seemingly insincere, impersonal notes in her shoe locker.

It’s as everyman as you can get — two single, available, and lonely classmates befriend each other and slowly come to realise that the one for them might be sitting nearby in class everyday after all. Instead of introducing characters that suddenly like each other for unfathomable reasons before attempting to endear yourself to them later on, kimikiss does it differently by introducing a believable, likeable cast that just happen to fall in love with each other later on.

Kenichi Kasai is doing it right. To be honest, I would never have guessed that what used to be a dating sim would be so easy on the senses, or even guessed that it had such roots if I wasn’t in the know. kimikiss looks right on track to become yet another quality offering of the season, so those of you with a weakness for realistic romance can start celebrating now.