Review of Bakemonogatari

If I pet a dog on the street, I'd be living. If I could get off my vehicle and offer a candy to the poor kid, I'd be living. If I buckle up and confess to my four year old crush, I'd be living. But all through my life, living feels extensively circumstantial to how I like to define it. I may have been at the right place and time to discover that I have often taken infatuation for love, polarity of opinions as disrespect and insecurity for defence, I may have been a second late or uttered a word more to hurt the peopleI have. But why does all of this need to happen if I could have easily fixed them? The border drawn between life and existence comes to effect. We dream towards an objective reality while constantly ignoring the subjective standpoint, or, in simpler frames, we choose to run away what (really) is. From the very beginning of the show, Bakemonogatari puts all of its skill in exploring this very border. The weight deficit, I think, is allegorical to the parents' negligence and incapability of confrontation dynamically inheres within the product as cowardice and irresolution. It's this cowardice that surfaces and impacts on Senjougahara's persona as desire for solitude. Her fear of embarrassment distracts her from seeking help. But as Araragi-kun says "you're the only one who can help yourself", but often a hand lent in favour can make chivalric a despondent heart. Only when acceptance supersedes Hitagi's own fear, she is able to see life in a new light, that is, from her standpoint instead of being afraid of revealing the lost 'normality' — a metaphor, hinted throughout, for the invaluable piece of splendor identity is.

This, fantastic parallel drawn between the two extremes in the first two-three episodes, made me reflect and appreciate the depth put into the show in large magnitudes. Thoughts are told through flickering cards, the emotional gap of the medium was bridged by distinct cuts of reminiscence. Bakemonogatari was like a spontaneous and sexy daydream ready to trade eminent escapism for the banal blemishes of my own life. But this kind of polish does not stay put. As I made it through further episodes, the imperfections grew in significance. The stylish dialogue was shaped into gross loli humour and mechanical blueprints started to eat up its steadiness. The nomadic existence of the thematic representation and execution, which the show once held proudly, was isolated into ridiculously drawn caricatures (I'm looking at you, Tsubasa Cat and Nadeko Snake) which would (often) forge unsettling side arcs to mock their own passive survival. Romance is precisely well done at some (ep 12, my favourite of the 15) and it is again assembled into a portentous cliche at the terminals.

For a dialogue driven show, Bakemonogatari has its script proofread. The show breaks the fourth wall like it has the copyrights reserved, and it does so avoiding convention and embracing creative pursuits. The music is again, a riveting addition to the drama, Staple Stable is simply enchanting. Although when it goes out of its comfort zone to address themes such as farewell, reliance, it floats with a lot of baggage. Sometimes it mistakes warmth for pedagogy and tries to interpret simple events as something beyond its thematic perimeter. It loses out on animation too on occasions where the scenic impact bore great value. But the sublime consciousness and molded creativity, though in uneven amounts and periods, exceeds its aforesaid shortcomings. If loli humour can be gross, the finesse in dialogue can be sensational. Bakemonogatari emerges as a raw gem of brilliance tarnished and toned down by suspended disbeliefs. If it could've stayed on track, I'd be looking at one of my favourite entries in anime. For now, it's wonderful mirage that I'd revisit amidst coming years.