Uchouten Kazoku

REVIEW: The Eccentric Family (2013)

by Dustin Kramer

 

As I sit here and try to think about what Masayuki Yoshihara’s The Eccentric Family “has to say,” I find myself profoundly inept at finding a fitting focal point for this introduction. It would be a disservice to say the 13-episode adaptation of Morimi Tomihiko’s novel is purely about the importance of family, because it feels even bigger than that. To claim that its central themes examine the meaning of life itself is a concept so large and overdone that it implies pretension, something that this story truly has none of. But to denounce both of these examinations is equally dishonest, because this animated drama has plenty to say in each arena — and much more.

 

The show begins with the voice of our protagonist, Yasaburou Shimogamo, narrating over images of himself running through the streets of Kyoto, Japan’s former capitol and a city known for its historic relevance. He enlightens the audience about the balance that is maintained by the city’s three intelligent species: tanuki, Japanese raccoon dogs mythologized in folklore as having the ability to transform; tengu, humanoid creatures with black wings and the power to fly; and humans, the only species seemingly unaware of the fantastic creatures with which they coexist. Yasaburou is a tanuki that seeks only the most joyous experiences in life, but he makes clear that he isn’t interested in being a “mere tanuki.” He “admires tengu from afar and loves imitating humans,” hinting at a thematic thread of cultural tolerance that runs through this piece.

 

The events of the narrative revolve around the death of Yasaburou’s father, Souichirou. Years prior, the tanuki patriarch had been killed and used as the main ingredient for a traditional dish called “hot pot” that the human fraternity known as the Friday Fellows indulge in at every New Year’s celebration. This sets the stage for every dramatic turn that we encounter throughout this journey, but keep in mind that each of the Shimogamo family members have already undergone major character changes in light of Souichirou’s untimely demise by the time the series begins. The mother of the four brothers attempts to step in to a more masculine role by literally dressing up as a prince. Yasaburou’s answer to his mother’s transformation is to become a feminine presence within the family via cross-dressing. The oldest of Yasaburou’s brothers, Yaichirou, has spent the time since his father’s death attempting to emulate the leadership and nobility that Souichirou exuded. Yajirou, the second oldest of the Shimagamo siblings, has lived life transformed into a frog and dwells at the bottom of a well, giving advice to any and all who drop a small donation into his dank abode. When it is revealed that he was out drinking with his father on the night of his death, his retreat into doleful solitude is finally understood. The youngest of the bunch, Yashirou, has regressed into childishness where his brothers have sought some refuge in early maturity. He is still quite young, but perhaps too young to be hiding in the shadow of his family’s elders — as he does.

 

In their tanuki forms, the Shimogamo boys bear markings that resemble the four suits in a French deck of playing cards. The two elders, Yaichirou and Yajirou, are the spade and club respectively. The black color of these suits is representative of a darkness within these characters that their siblings don’t carry. Like a spade, Yaichirou is sharp and offensive. Yajirou’s club brings to mind the image of a clover — the diminutive plant’s natural color and shape reflecting his chosen amphibian form. Yasaburou and Yashirou, on the other hand, bear the red suits —  a color that symbolizes warmth and zeal, something their older brothers have lost. Yashirou is the heart, and he certainly has the most of it. Yasaburou’s diamond is the only shape with four sides. This represents the centrality and connective nature of his character in relation to his brothers. Those who share a suit color exist as pairs. Yashirou seeks protection and solace in Yasaburou over anyone else (except perhaps their mother), and Yaichirou’s strong empathetic reaction to the revelation that the guilt-stricken Yajirou may have been the last one to see their father alive suggests a much stronger bond between the characters — despite rarely communicating with one another — than the audience had been privy to up to that point.

 

The first half of the show occurs in a series of brief arcs detailing the relationships between the Shimogamo tanuki clan and their relatives (the Ebisugawas), an aging tengu professor named Akadama, and the largely clueless Friday Fellows. Akadama requests that Yasaburou summon Benten, a human woman to whom Akadama had previously taught the tengu’s signature skill of flight. Her uncommon power serves to blur the line between these hierarchical groups, strengthening the theme of cultural acceptance. Yasaburou agrees to deliver Akadama’s letter, but he does so with trepidation. You see, Benten is member of the Friday Fellows, the mysterious organization that cooked and ate the young tanuki’s father years prior. It becomes clear that both Yasaburou and Akadama have feelings for the human woman. But once the rivalry between the Shimogamos and the the Ebisugawas is established, the show builds in the final half toward an election to determine who will lead the Kyoto tanuki community as the “Nise-emon,” a role that Souichirou was filling when he died. Yaichirou vies for the position against his uncle, Souun.

 

The Eccentric Family is a gorgeous piece of entertainment art and yet another bright spot in studio P.A. Works’ ever-growing portfolio of visually impressive projects. The backgrounds are so painstakingly detailed and given these touches of realism that many other animation studios would disregard as unnecessary minutia. They seem to be painted on an interesting, textured surface not unlike a watercolor block. The characters themselves are heavily stylized and casted with straight, clean lines and solid blocks of color. This gives the entire presentation a very distinct visual flavor while serving another more practical goal — when the story calls for action, budget can be easily moved around to ensure that money goes where it needs to. More static scenes of dialogue can be trimmed without the animation quality appearing to have been affected. This works out well for the series, as a moment where a visible decrease in aesthetics was rare in my viewing experience.

 

As I mentioned before, cultural tolerance is one of the shows themes, and I find that it was handled quite deftly. Despite tensions between the humans, tengu, and tanuki, they all make efforts to coexists peacefully. The fact that members of three different species — Yasaburou, Akadama, and one of the Friday Fellows — all fall in love with the human woman Benten speaks to the possibility of a world without borders. As an extension of this, the show seems to make some apologies for Japan’s own slow, quiet transitions into progressiveness. The non-human societies in the series are certainly aware that the Friday Fellow’s practice of eating tanuki is wrong, but everyone accepts it as a fact of life until tradition is challenged and things change. With this, the creators ask that the world be patient with the island nation as it learns to compassionately approach longstanding, sinful ideals. The country really can’t claim a large number of loud social movements that pepper other comparatively younger countries’ histories. Instead, when it’s time to think a new way about something, social change just tends to happen — sometimes from the top down, with the government passing new civil rights legislation before it even becomes a major issue among activists. A cursory glance at the Wikipedia pages for “Social Movements in America” and “Social Movements in Japan” is an eye-opening reminder that the Land of the Rising Sun just tends to “go with the flow,” which happens to be a piece of advice that Akadama gives Yaichiro in the final episode.

 

The tengu Akadama is also a particularly interesting central figure. He is old, and his fear of becoming obsolete is well-drawn and poignant. Symbolically, he is Japan’s aging population itself. More than 20 percent of Japan’s population are over the age of 65, and this large chunk is retiring from the workforce to lean on socialized support from an ever-shrinking working-age populace. An ostentatious demonstration from Akadama in the last episode is an announcement that he is still alive and still matters, something that many of whom he represents would love to have the voice to say.

 

Unfortunately, not everything about The Eccentric Family deserves praise. This anime is a fantasy set in the real world, but real world implications of murder are never fully addressed. The show never paints Benten as a villain, despite her passiveness to the killing and eating of tanuki and her active participation in the death of Souichirou in particular. She’s enigmatic but woefully incomplete and highlights an uncommon thematic void for the series. Additionally, although Yasaburou was engaged to his cousin, Kaisei (Yajirou was also in love with her), the show never addresses the topic of incest. The ancient practice of marrying relatives for political purposes is not foreign to the West, but in a show where themes of tradition-breaking are so prevalent, the absence of examination or commentary here is notable. As an aside, the relationship is never sexualized in any way, so it would be inaccurate to call it fan service — it’s definitely not that kind of show.

 

The last few episodes resolve the arcs of major and minor characters alike and prove to be one of the most satisfying endings of an anime series in recent memory. The variety of sociopolitical ideas the show tackles and the overwhelming rate of success at these attempts is laudable. If The Eccentric Family had only one thing to say, well, it wouldn’t be the thematically rich piece that it is. But if I had to try and nail down the “one thing” that the series is about, I think it wants to say something like this: Don’t over-prepare for things that may not come. Take life one day at a time, enjoy it to the best of your ability, deal with shit when it comes your way, and never forget what’s important to you, no matter what it is.

 

[starrater]