Nichijou-My-Ordinary-Life-en
Conventional wisdom has always taught us that more is usually better. We
think that the more expensive car should have more completely unrelated
features, the better ice-cream sundae should have a bigger pile of
fresh fruit on top, and the better statistics report should be able to
pull more numbers out of it’s arse. We compare phones by the multitude
of apps it can run, our enjoyment of horror films is based on how many
different ways the various victims die, and we often rate anime by how
many story arcs, characters, subplots and themes it can cram into it’s
26 episode season.
As the modern entertainment sector continues to emphasize excess and
surplus, Nichijou is a much welcome, and frankly much needed throwback
to a more old-school approach to entertainment. Nichijou’s frugal yet
distinct style reminds us that something is perfect, not because there’s
nothing more to add to it, but because there is nothing more to take
away.
Nichijou brings to us a fusion of gag, moe, slice-of-life and slapstick
comedy. It’s humor is very reminiscent of Azumanga Diaoh while it’s art
style borrows heavily from the distinctly colorful palette of Lucky
Star. Nichijou adopts a very light-hearted approach with it’s tone; it’s
jokes are played fast and loose, and while there is a constant shift of
pacing throughout each episode, Nichijou never seems to take itself
very seriously.
Perhaps the most noteworthy thing about Nichijou is it’s production
value. Frankly speaking, Nichijou is GORGEOUS to look at; it’s animation
so incredibly fluid and it’s art so crisp and vivid that it actually
puts other supposedly competent studios to shame. The artwork selects
it’s palette very sparingly, with a result that is both vibrant yet easy
on the eyes. This gentle tone is then frequently punctuated by segments
of metaphorical (and in some cases literal) animation explosions,
showcasing KyoAni’s talent with a huge variety of styles from gritty
realism to crayon slapstick.
One can’t help but wonder if KyoAni isn’t deliberately showing off their
workmanship with this anime. Many originally very short panels from the
manga are translated into incredibly imaginative and stunning sequences
of animation that simply scream “because we can.” Show off or not,
Nichijou’s cinematography is nothing short of outstanding; it’s liberal
interpretation of the original source material has really allowed the
creativity of director Ishihara Tatsuya and the KyoAni animators to
shine through like nothing we’ve ever seen before.
Special mention to Nichijou’s OP and ED songs, which are creative shorts
(incredibly well sync’d I might mention) in their own right. As a fun
fact, both of Nichijou’s OPs are sung by Hyadain, who is ONE guy. No
female backing vocals at all, he does it all himself. Seriously I’m not
joking, go look it up.
The aforementioned dynamic pacing forms the basis of Nichijou’s
entertainment value. Each episode tackles it’s structure with a large
degree of unpredictability. You never know what’s going to happen next,
be it a humorous dialogue scene, a fast paced action sequence, an
amusing random still image or a hilarious but completely unrelated skit.
Despite this seemingly chaotic approach, Nichijou still manages to find
a good balance between all it’s various styles so that no episode feels
too weighted. While such a haphazard approach may seem
counter-intuitive for a slice-of-life anime, this style ends up working
greatly in Nichijou’s favor, adding another layer to it’s texture of
absurdity.
The humor itself is very simplistic, almost to a fault, and one would
normally attribute this as one of Nichijou’s flaws. That is of course
until you remember that “Nichijou” translates to “My Ordinary Life” and
as such, the simplicity of the jokes are a fitting homage to the show’s
title and premise. Many of the jokes are simply exaggerated normal
events like missing the train or a waiter forgetting your order, relying
on witty dialogue delivery and clever timings to get the humor across.
Some may consider this a hit-or-miss sort of comedy, which is only a
fair judgement. All the same, you don’t necessarily have to laugh at
jokes like these to appreciate them, which is one of the main reasons
why slice-of-life can have such a widespread appeal (remember K-On?)
The characters are very likable, despite the obvious utilization of moe
in many of their design. If you can shed that manly exterior and look
past the few excessively “cute” scenes, there’s actually an abundance of
things to enjoy about Nichijou’s characters. Conventional archetypes
are few and far between in this anime, and all the characters harbor
their own quirky habits and flaws that you’ll quickly grow fond of.
The best thing about Nichijou’s characters however, isn’t their
individuality, but how they interact with each other. The personalities
of various character groups clash, contrast and complement each other in
extremely interesting ways; the conversations and activities of the two
golden trios of Nichijou: Yuuko/Mio/Mai and Hakase/Nano/Sakamoto make
up the abundance of material in each episode and just their hilarious
adventures by themselves could probably carry an entire show. This is
furthered by the great voice acting that the Nichijou provides; Nichijou
is one of the rare shows where the seiyuus genuinely sound like they’re
enjoying themselves. Dialogues are delivered with copious amounts of
enthusiasm which really helps sell the spirited relationships that the
various characters enjoy with each other.
With all that has been said though, I would like to come back to that
idea I mentioned when we began, that idiom of “less is more.” The thing I
love most about Nichijou, isn’t the amazing artwork, the clever
cinematography, the light-hearted humor or even the imaginative
characters. What I love most about Nichijou is the fact that, behind all
the technicalities and production values, lies a very simple ideal.
Everything about Nichijou revolves around this central principle of
being enjoyable. All that it does, every scene, every character, every
line of dialogue alludes back to this principle. Because at the end of
the day, all Nichijou wants you to do is one thing; it wants you to
enjoy yourself. With Nichijou, there is no story, no subplots, no
recurring themes, no character development, no product placement, no
lessons to be learnt, no obscure references to pander to a niche
audience, no obvious fan-service pandering or ploys to sell related
merchandise.
Fun is the only thing that matters, and it's this frugality, this
ingenious simplicity, that allows everything to just click together like
magic.
When you finally get home after a long tiring day, the only thing
Nichijou wants to do is to give you an excuse to prop your feet up after
and wash that blue feeling away as it slowly puts that grin back onto
your face.