Review of Haibane Renmei

Storytelling is a labor of love, regardless of what you aim to accomplish with the story. To tell a story that conveys conventional entertainment (through elements like plot, action, and drama) is tough. To tell a story that conveys meaning (through elements like symbolism, motif, tone, and theme) is tough in a whole different way. And to tell a story that conveys both of those things in a deft, skillful manner is the mental equivalent of giving birth: A long, unspeakably painful process. But at the end, you've created something of value and sent it headfirst into the sunlight of this world. Brief, deceptively simple,original, and thought-provoking, Haibane Renmei is such a story.

Haibane Renmei begins with a scene of strange beauty. A young girl wearing a white robe falls headfirst through an azure sky. A crow appears near her, gently grabs her robe with its clawed feet, and, with genuine compassion, attempts to stop her from falling. This little bird cannot, of course, break her fall. The girl smiles wistfully at the crow and shakes her head. “You can't,” she says. “But...thank you.”

The girl, we later learn, is a Haibane—a humanoid who is birthed live from a huge cocoon. Haibanes possess wings and halos whose purpose is unknown. The Haibanes live in a small town called Glie, which is surrounded on all sides by massive walls. To even go near the walls is strictly forbidden. Haibane have no memories of their past identities, and are given a name based on the dream that they had while sleeping in their cocoons. The aforementioned girl is named “Rakka” (eng. “falling”) by the group of five female Haibanes who help her hatch from her cocoon. These five then help Rakka learn the ropes of day-to-day life in the town.

At the halfway point of the episode count, the plot makes a transition to darker, more character-focused drama, and it's at this point that the show really hits its stride. This series possesses a key component for dramatic validity that most others simply do not have: Balance. I sympathize heavily with the common complaint that drama is sometimes “overdone” or “forced,” but I found that in Haibane Renmei, the opposite is true. The show's emotional content is often quiet and understated, and it is all the more powerful because of its subtlety and the suddenness with which it can develop out of seemingly normal situations.

The characters (or, at least, the two main characters) are fleshed out remarkably well despite the time constraints of a thirteen episode series. The first, Rakka, is a sort of empty vessel; she's born into the world without much of an identity. However, she is naturally curious, and she takes in everything around her and makes it a part of herself. It would have been all too easy to make her into a braindead, one-note, always-smiling-always-happy type, but in a display of very sensible character writing, she instead grows into someone who is influenced by both the positives and the negatives of what she sees in Glie. She is hopeful to the core, but possesses doubts and insecurities which threaten to overcome that hopefulness as the series progresses. Nothing bounces off of her. She is a living character, responding in the truest of fashions to everything that's thrown her way.

The other main character is the perpetually smoking Reki. One of the oldest living Haibane, she is a cynical but caring individual who helps take care of the children and newborn Haibane. Reki hides a troubled past underneath an unmoving exterior of wry humor and grit. An extremely well-written character, she is also a powerful symbol, and one of the main vehicles for conveying meaning within the series. She is Rakka's darker counterpart, and many of the most compelling scenes in the show are a result of Rakka's wide-eyed optimism facing off against Reki's wizened voice of harsh realism.

Thematically, Haibane Renmei makes several comments on human sin and redemption. Where the series shines on this front is, once again, the understated way in which it delivers powerful and mature ideas. There aren't any Evangelion-esque scenes where the characters appear to be having a bad acid trip while a weird voice-over shouts philosophical questions. Instead, in the tradition of literature, ideas are conveyed through symbols and recurring themes. It's surprising just how rich with symbolism Haibane Renmei truly is; from the titular gray wings of the Haibane to the walls which surround the city of Glie, it seems like everything is more than it appears. The amount of thought that went into designing this world must have been staggering. And yet, at the same time, the thematic content of the series is easily accessible. This show doesn't ask that you be an analyst to understand what it's about. It only asks that you pay attention.

Haibane Renmei's soundtrack is a superb demonstration of how an orchestra can navigate the entire spectrum of human emotion. Sometimes it's boisterous and whimsical. Sometimes it's chilling. Sometimes it's unutterably sad. The music here has enough range to perfectly complement whatever is happening onscreen. An upbeat, string-driven instrumental opening and a quiet, vocally haunting ending are perfect bookends for each episode.

There is one area where the series falters. Whatever else it might be, when it comes to visuals, Haibane Renmei is no masterpiece. There are some good elements here: The backgrounds are lovely, and the character designs are a breath of fresh air. In recent years artists within the anime industry seem to enjoy depicting women as overly sexualized blobs of skin with massive soul-searching eyes, so it's nice to see an all-female cast that is rendered as a little more realistic looking. It sounds strange to note that the Haibanes, with the full halo and wing treatment, actually look more like humans than most modern characters, but sadly, it's true. However, while the designs themselves are good, the execution is...a little spotty. Character art is often a bit blocky. Characters tend to have poorly defined lines, especially around the hands/arms. This is particularly noticeable in scenes that show them from a distance. Animation is often a little stiff; granted, there isn't a lot of action, and this hardly detracts from the show overall. I'm not going to go on and on, but suffice to say the art in general just looks a little rough. I debated taking a point off of the overall score due to these flaws in artistic execution, but in the end I asked myself: Would the series really be any better if it had sharper visuals? And the answer, I believe, is a resounding “no.” The strength of the show lies with the story it weaves, and no degree of special effects magic would make it any more compelling than it already is.

At times uplifting, at times haunting, and always beautifully understated, Haibane Renmei is a superb example of the “complete package” of fiction: In addition to being an extremely entertaining emotional roller coaster full of memorable characters, it's also a collection of powerful and intelligent ideas that are conveyed elegantly to the viewer. Don't be fooled by its brevity or its seeming simplicity—there's far more to this one than meets the eye.