Review of Sing "Yesterday" for Me

“Never knowing when to stop — thy name is human.” — Krunchyman Each time a slice-of-life drama comes to the fore, we, the viewing public, need to ask a pertinent question: ‘will they half-ass it, of full ass it?’ For example, invoking themes of unrequited love, interminable ‘friend-zones,’ and romantic ignorance is a precarious undertaking that walks a thin tight-rope of becoming too clichéd or too dull. The former is pervasive to the point that we might as well classify it as an invasive genre in the anime medium; on the other hand, the latter is equally undesirable, as it fails to engage theaudience in any meaningful fashion (a critical element in these types of anime). So perhaps the question then becomes: will a healthy balance be struck?—And if so, will it done with grace and ingenuity?

Sing “Yesterday” for Me, in my estimation, establishes the balance with an anachronistic cast of characters…in fact, the juxtaposition of differing ‘philosophies’ is the engine that drives the show. Rikuo, the indecisive male lead, is primarily focused on what he could be and who we wishes to be with. But this prospect driven mindset thwarts him from living in the here and now; thus, ‘closing doors’ (i.e. Haru’s kindness) and limiting his overall happiness. This indirect ‘self-sabotage’ is the impetus behind Rikuo’s capitulating personality, allowing him to be manipulated by the unwitting Shinako. Hence, Rikuo would do well to adopt Haru’s ‘presence’ and begin exploring all the possibilities presented to him, rather than holding out for one long-shot.

Shinako — Rikuo’s ‘one-and-only’ — has the antithetical problem, she cannot dislodge her mind from the past. Having the displeasure of watching her lover’s health slowly deteriorate, Shinako resigned herself to a life of solitude and emptiness. Numerous scenes show Shinkao reminiscing about her past lover in a way that demonstrates her unwillingness to believe in herself via moving on from the traumatic event. She, therefore, is apathetic toward her own future — precipitating an inner tumult that leads to emotional stagnation. Even when she initiates a relationship with Rikuio, it seems as though she’s sabotaging it via making fun of his limited vocabulary or blowing him off (as nicely as possible) on more than one occasion. But she hangs onto to him, nonetheless, as support for her own shortcomings and her inability to terminate what she knows is a fruitless endeavor (as noted by Shinako’s reluctance to kiss Rikuo).

Rikuo and Shinako are both fleshed out characters that give the viewer much to ponder in terms of being too ‘nice’ and not knowing when to close a particular chapter in one’s life. Furthermore, none of the their actions or spoken sentences felt out of place, nor did they come off as tired character tropes. The subtle nuances in each character provided a slow-burning level of intrigue that was hard to turn away from. Haru, on the flip side, is more forward with her actions. Not all surprising from someone who embraces the chaotic beauty of living in the here and now. While some viewers may interpret her character as ‘obnoxious’ or ‘creepy,’ I much prefer to classify her as passionate, resolute, and, yes, a bit foolhardy (this is a compliment!).

While her proposed competition with Shinako seemed a bit outlandish and rude, it is precisely what we all do in pursuit of the ideal partner. If one questions the rationality of this statement, then I suggest they neglect taking showers, become homeless, uneducated, and attempt to woo the girl/boy of their dreams. Whether the other ‘competitors’ is known is of no consequence, as we are all ‘competing’ for the right to date/marry a worthwhile, loving partner. Haru acknowledges this hidden reality and makes no bones about her wanting to make Rikuo hers. Sure. Some men see this persistent as annoying, but this commitment to achieving her goal is admirable and praiseworthy. To make the topic crystal, I’d choose an ‘annoying’ girl with self-awareness and the courage of her convictions, over an equivocating, over thinker any day of the week. Of course, that is not to say that Haru doesn’t have doubts or regrets about her decisions, but she knows the path she is on and does not allow mishaps to deter her future ambitions. Plus, the fact that she constantly goes out of her way to see Rikuo and show her admiration for him with gifts and warm smiles is proof that she cares about his well-being; whereas Shinako is, inadvertently, neglectful about Rikuo’s happiness.

The characters, without a doubt, were the strong point of the anime. The plot, also, was exceptionally consistent, save for an episode where Chika stumbled into Rikuo in the convenience store back alley and pleaded to stay with him until she got back on her feet; causing Shinako and Haru to become distraught about Rikuo’s ‘playboy’ lifestyle. I would have preferred if this episode didn’t exist, as it felt like the plot was being accelerated to inject a certain level of ‘excitement.’ But it felt superfluous because the methodical, emotional build up was entertaining enough in its own right, and needed no additional ‘spice’ to liven it up. Although some may argue the plot was a bit leisurely, I would contend it never laggard, as most of the events felt organic. And this authentic approach not only kept events grounded, it also made even mundane experiences feel important; like when Rikuo was having a difficult time giving Shinako the necklace for Christmas or when Shinako’s lip was quivering when Rikuo gently stroked her hair. So while there were no overt plot devices that would give the viewer metaphorical whiplash, there were enough small events that added nervous anticipation about possible events to come. Mix this with the pleasant backgrounds and placid OST, and Sing “Yesterday” For Me was just an overall satisfying experience.

“It burnt slowly, but it never lost its heat.” — Krunchyman