Happy Valentines Day — belated if you’re in the Eastern hemisphere — to all you ronery and non-ronery people out there. In choosing to do this joint feature I figured that a certain someone would be just the girl for the job, considering how she’s posted twice on Tokyo Marble Chocolate before this, and with such passion and eloquence, too.

But what’s the point, you say, in covering something that’s already written to death about, and much earlier on, too? It’s quite simple — aside from being suitable Valentines fodder, it also has two very different sides to the same story, with the girl’s and the guy’s sides showing off distinct perspectives. Naturally, it’d only make sense to have two bloggers of the relevant genders covering it from their respective angles, which is rationale behind this little feature.

There’s also the relatively more sombre tone of TMC that I found to be its selling point. While Valentines Day is famous for glorifying the union of the couple and all its romantic trappings, I wanted to take the road less travelled in writing about those who once had a significant other, and TMC fit the bill. It’s all well and good to have someone to make presents and profess your undying love for, but for those single by choice, those who aren’t exactly eager to get into a new relationship after the trauma of a past love, this is for you.

As surprising as this might sound, I found myself relating to the girl’s side a lot more than I did the guy’s. You could call it being sensitive, as I was once described in a not-so-flattering context. The effect it had on me was great, for I was close to tears throughout most of the Girl side, being able to identify with it — Chizuru as a character seemed just that more real and convincing due to how she struck that just-right balance of hopelessness and weary despair that anyone, given a couple of failed relationships, could subscribe to easily.

It was an insightful glimpse into the psyche of a girl I might have known once. Fighting is part and parcel of a relationship, and being human and whatnot, I would get into arguments with this ex of mine over the smallest things, being the insensitive prick that I was, resulting in her being in tears and having this emotional outburst about her bad day, while going on about how I didn’t understand her, resulting in my feeling like a terrible monster at the end of it all. With that in mind I found Chizuru to be a great character that gave me a sense of illumination not like a eureka moment, an “Oh, so that’s what she meant back then” that I’d missed before.

But while I identified with Chizuru as a result of her convincing portrayal and true-to-life characterisation, I found myself to be in tune with Yuudai’s thought processes a lot more, and enjoyed watching his side as a result of how the overall tone was that of hopefulness, something I also subscribe to since I haven’t sworn myself to a lifetime of being single just yet. It’s true that there’s got to be a balance in how you approach a new relationship with a view of the old ones, and TMC did a great job in the way in which it handled its main theme, presenting reality as we know it in an episode-sized format to chew on.

The theme of emotional baggage played an important role in the conflict. In this sense Yuudai and Chizuru represent different sides of failed relationships that anyone must inevitably choose as they head into another tentative union — it’s either a pessimistic “this will be no different from the last” view that takes into account past events to measure against, or an optimistic “I’ll make this last” one that tries to forget about the bad parts that’ve happened while learning from the good ones.

also, for those of you who haven’t seen it, I personally recommend watching the Girl’s side before the Guy’s

It’s thought-provoking to say the least — when was the last time anime made you think about relationships in such a roundabout manner? It doesn’t assign values to either side and never judges, for both halves end in the same manner on the pedestrian bridge that suggest that it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day whether you go into a new relationship all prickly and scared of getting hurt again, or with bright-eyed bushy-tailed naivete that this one won’t be like the last; what matters is the process of mending while learning to trust and love again.

Having been in about three relationships before this myself, I’ve found that they certainly helped me identify with Chizuru and Yuudai’s respective predicaments a lot more, if only because I had an ex that carried the “Will it work this time around?/I’m tired of looking” baggage into the relationship with her, and another sort-of ex that had the same “Were we ever dating?” conundrum that earns anyone in this day and age an “Its Complicated” in their Facebook.

It wasn’t your everyday anime, that’s for sure. I don’t fault those who didn’t get it for not enjoying TMC as much as I did, for, in my opinion, what this draws on in order to be effective isn’t so much base emotions that anyone can relate to as much as it is a common, shared experience that those who’ve gone through will ultimately be able to appreciate more than those who haven’t.

There’s something terribly saddening about the fatalistic way in which Chizuru goes about from one relationship to another, with Yuudai as just another boyfriend in that respect, and the opening minutes of her side seem to indicate this well enough — she narrates about how she’s going to break up with him today, as if doing so was just another item on her to-do list or a matter scheduled as an afterthought, and nothing more.

There’s a very straightforward and WYSIWYG train of thought that frames Yuudai’s narrative as he goes through the events of his day. I wouldn’t say that he was conforming to standard male behavioural guidelines or anything, but as far as experience has taught me, the main problem with guys in relationships is how little they bother to understand or empathise with their girl, choosing to take it for granted that what they see is all there is to it, and Yuudai’s behaviour is uncharacteristically realistic in that sense.

Compare this then to Chizuru’s inner monologue during her date with Yuudai. I found the contrast here important because, as she points out, for all of Yuudai’s earnest efforts in their relationship that extend so far as to even getting her a present for their date, all she wants at the end of the day is a less tangible “I love you” that means more to her than any mini-donkey or rabbit could ever do –however, instead of talking to him about it, she chooses to talk about other things and diverts the topic, bottling up her feelings instead of articulating them.

With this in mind, I found that TMC didn’t cut corners by romanticising or glossing over like any other show would, and it’s, to quote Jon McLaughlin from his song Beautiful Disaster, “perfect in its imperfection”; one of the better fictional depictions of a relationship that I’ve had the pleasure of viewing. It was about putting on a brave front in the face of a loveless and cold world out there that no amount of shoujo or romance manga can adequately begin to describe — definitely a sobering reflection on this special day. Hope you had a great one, even if it was mostly spent in front of your PC monitor!

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This entry was posted on Friday, February 15th, 2008 at 1:32 am 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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