“Anytime I need to see your face I just close my eyes
And I am taken to a place
Where your crystal minds and magenta feelings
Take up shelter in the base of my spine
Sweet like a chica cherry cola”
–I Want You, Savage Garden
This song takes me back. I just close my eyes and I am taken to place where I’m standing against the gymnasium wall at a middle school dance while one friend is crying in the bathroom and the other is trying to hook me up with my science lab partner, “because we both have glasses.”
When the Orange manga was first recommended to me, I was hesitant. I’ve stayed away from shoujo manga and anime due to my growing personal frustration with it. The insipid storytelling based on years upon years of tropes coupled with often insidious messages for young women found in most shoujo romances is still far more difficult for me to ignore than routine sexual fanservice aimed at men. I approached Orange with trepidation, but came away rewarded with a strong story that skirts around these expectations by focusing primarily on regret and the premature loss of a friend.
Orange is less about romance — despite the ever-present tropes — and more about dealing with the death of a loved one.
Due to the well-worn nature of its subject matter, the second episode of Orange is grating, especially to those who have seen a large amount of shoujo anime — perhaps only one was enough, considering that gifting food to a romantic interest is so common of a cliché that it appears in nearly every shoujo romance. Throughout the majority of Episode 2, I wanted to shake Naho Takamiya by the shoulders and yell at her to give Kakeru Naruse the lunch she prepared.
In fact, Orange could easily fall into the trap of becoming just another shoujo series — and there are a few more clichés to come — although I have confidence that it won’t for two major reasons. One is a source material spoiler from the original manga around which I’ll try to tread lightly. The other is the deft visual touch of director Hiroshi Hamasaki.
“Million Clouds” sung in dulcet, relaxing tones by Maaya Sakamoto is the perfect opening song for Amanchu!. As Futaba Ooki looks out at the vastness of the ocean while waves lap at her feet in the sand, it’s clear that Amanchu! is going to be another Kozue Amano property in the similar vein of Aria — allowing viewers’ cares to melt away throughout the episode, or with each beautiful note of the opening song.
I was initially going to write about Futaba’s first day in school, comparing Amanchu!’s focus on establishing the seaside setting of Ito on the Izu Peninsula as a main character of the series alongside Hikari Kohinata and Futaba. When revisiting the opening, I was struck by how pointed the visuals were, especially having watched the first episode entirely.
“Good morning!” an affable voice blares from the boombox next to the kitchen table, following the trademark jingle of “Morning, morning, morning, mojo radio.” The voice belongs to disc jockey Kai Harada, a friendly, average sort who always has the perfect song to start the day. Sure enough, as eggs and bacon sizzle in a frying pan, an upbeat song starts to play, accompanied by the soft background noise of the morning news on the television.
No sooner has the table been set — a small salad, toast, eggs, bacon, and orange juice — than white noise and static interferes with the radio and the song dies out. The camera pans back to reveal a severed hand. Blood drips onto the floor from the otherwise pristine breakfast table setting.