ef - a tale of memories could very well be- no, it is the Lucky Star of Autumn. It’s easy to bash for reasons like “random visual crap”, “distracting”, “confusing”, and equally as easy to hate for the very same reasons, which are, by some coincidental measure, only skin-deep. I feel that ef has its share of detractors due to how they’re not exactly comfortable with its method of presentation, which is unorthodox; or it could be due to how it’s supervised by Akiyuki Shinbo (note: supervise is not the same as direct), who apparently has a track record of psychedelic and random shows under his belt, thus enforcing a placebo effect like “this has to be bad”, which is, ironically, the direct opposite of the reason why we’re all watching kimikiss (”this has to be good, it has Honey & Clover’s director working on it!”).

I think it’s too convenient to not think at all, deriding the style and ignoring the substance in order to push away another show conveniently, declaring that it’s the work of the anime devil etc. Style is not substance. Once I got past the initial weirdness that the show’s now infamous for, I finally realised that there was a method to the madness — if you could call it that — that was displayed by ef. Word is on the street that SHAFT’s being as faithful as KyoAni and it’s not their style, because it’s what was part of the original CG in the game.

How many of you noticed that the visuals only decide to go kaleidoscope when it’s any one of the three couples having protracted conversations together? No, you couldn’t have, I mean, no one’s watching this show anymore right? I owe this post to Mike of Anime Diet for his keen and shrewd Lit Student observations; in particular, his post about ef 03 finally made me see the light, for I was still floundering about trying to figure out the meaning behind it all. No thanks to him pointing me in the right direction I can indeed see what ef’s trying to do, and it’s a thing of beauty.

If you haven’t figured it out already, the imagery and symbolism in ef’s so thick you could cut it with a knife, assuming you knew what sort of knife to use. Mike’s post was enlightening in the sense that my focus swung from the portrayals of the characters and how rounded they were (which, now that I look back on it, wasn’t an issue at all) to what was right in front of my eyes — this all despite having a clue or two while watching the earlier episodes.

It all begins with the ubiquitious line repeated ad nauseum every episode: “do you have memories that you don’t want to forget?” Immortalising memory is something all artists strive for, whether it’s a pretty bit of scenery, a conversation they had, or even the world seen through their eyes. The line isn’t random in nature or meant to add to any melodramatic atmosphere that could have been present; rather, it’s indicative of what the three male protagonists strive for in their art, and to some lesser degree the females, too.

This is where the interaction between the characters stem from — the desire to create that, in one way or another, ties into the visuals and character development so well that you can’t tell where it begins and ends. Take Miya for instance.

Her declaration in episode 04 sheds some light on why shots of Hiro from her point of view are constantly perceived in monochrome. She sees through people literally, looking at Hiro in black or white, and this is why the shots from her viewpoint seems the way it does during their conversations — she sees right through him, and she uses this knowledge to her advantage by using the opportunity to get closer to him.

As proof of this ability of hers, she also tears Kei apart later when they meet in episode 05. Miyako knows exactly what motivates Kei to act in a confrontational, belligerent manner, because she, again, has a good eye for people. By questioning her honesty she gets Kei to in turn question herself, forcing her to confront her hesitation in expressing her love for Hiro, or even her blaming herself for getting him into manga drawing and his current lifestyle, as a result.

Hiro himself is plagued with problems. He lives the life of a nascent manga artist that seems to be fast approaching burnout no thanks to his tendonitis, and while he recalls fondly his childhood memories with the Shindo twins, he now questions the path he’s taken. His life is a colourless one, as he says; “I’m searching from the colour that’s missing from the world I see.” Interestingly, however, the next scene slowly shifts from monochrome to colour as Miya enters his room — hinting that her presence in his life has brought colour to it.

Or what about the camera-wielding film buff Kyosuke?

Now that the reason for his obsession with carrying around his DV recorder has been revealed, the pieces of his puzzle fall into place like clockwork. He lugs his recorder along with him because he wants to make the perfect film, capturing something of the same magnitude of beauty as he saw his mother to be in his childhood. A strong impression would have presumably been left upon him, inspiring him to turn to film like the Shindo twins inspired Hiro.

His sudden confession at the end of episode 05 left me puzzled, and begs the question: does he like Kei, or has he just fallen in love with an image of her? I’m guessing the latter is true, as I’m positive any potential relationship that might come out of it would be plagued with his idealistic vision of her. He isn’t so much in love with her as he is the her that his recorder captures — proof of this can be seen in episode 05 where, instead of chatting her up or even asking her first, he chooses to surreptitiously film her while she plays basketball, and gets punched as a result.

Lastly, the eccentric Chihiro finally comes undone.

If we use “books” as a symbol, then the reason for their falling in love is explained easily. Renji’s love of reading means that Chihiro can’t help but fall for him given how her existence is basically contained in a diary; her memory consisting only of these written words, it would follow that if he has a fondness for them (reading), he would understand her as well (diary) — and understand her he does.

As Chihiro all but cries, “Why does someone know me better than I know myself?!” It isn’t that Renji has a great understanding of her as a person. Rather, it’s how he finds her predicament easy to empathise with, having the same affinity for the written word as she does. Likewise, so does he see their attempt to make a novel as finally setting a part of her in concrete, something she previously tried and deemed impossible.

Note that we’re only up to the fifth episode so far, and that there’s still a long way to go. Having finally understood the mystery behind Hiro’s monochrome shots, I’m guessing that explanations for the filtered shots of the other characters will eventually surface in the duration of the story. The only thing that’s puzzling me is the appearance of the girl in nun clothing who appears and disappears from time to time, although I’m sure that one will sort itself out as the story progresses.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 7th, 2007 at 11:59 pm and is filed under Anime. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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