Review of given

A soft, dappled light pools in the corner of a stairway, warm and nostalgic like a home you never realized you were missing. A boy sleeps in that light, a guitar clutched to his chest. From a glance, he seems adrift, like a lost rowboat bobbing on a dark, cloudy ocean. For a moment, all is silent and still. It might as well be a framed photograph. Then, the silence is broken by the arrival of a grumpy, sarcastic basketball player who’s none too happy at seeing his favorite napping spot taken by someone else. So begins Given, a show that achieves its humble intentions better thanmost other anime achieve their outsized ones. It’s a story of bands and a story of boys, a story of love and a story of loss. More than anything else, though, it’s a story of hope, one that’s sure to stick with you long after the credits finally roll. Do not miss out on this one, friends; this is the true under-exposed gem of summer 2019, and you owe it to yourself to give it the attention it deserved.

Our story centers around Ritsuka Uenoyama, a former child guitar prodigy who’s long since lost the fire that once drove him. He’s listless and aimless, basically sleepwalking his way through high school. He’s still in a band, playing guitar with a couple older friends who go to college, but it’s a distraction more than anything. That all changes when he meets Sato Mafuyu, the sleeping boy with the guitar I just mentioned. Here, it seems, is someone even more lost than Uenoyama, burdened by something in his past he dares not talk about, at times seemingly barely aware of his own surroundings. He’s an enigma to Uenoyama, who wants nothing to do with him at first. But the second Mafuyu first hears him play guitar, he’s determined to have Uenoyama teach him. Despite his protests, Uenoyama can’t help but find himself drawn in by this kid’s eagerness, his soul, his uncertain but determined fumbling. It’s like seeing his old passion reflected back at him... but perhaps, also something more. Before he knows what he’s doing, Mafuyu’s become part of his band as well, and the two of them work together to overcome their various hang-ups and recover their lost desire to make beautiful music.

If you think you know where this story is going from that description, you’re absolutely right. The power of Given isn’t found in how it shocks you with an unexpected plot turn or stuns you with some jaw-dropping feat of animation. It’s found in the countless ways this show feels real, capturing a more genuine snapshot of life’s ebb and flow than most anime even approach. I could talk about the strong direction that compensates for the kinda lackluster animation by bringing each scene to palpable life. I could talk about the incredible musical score, steeped in authentic indie grit and swagger that gives off the feeling of futzing around in a music studio and seeing what kind of magic you can make. I could talk about how gosh darn adorable the romances that develop between the characters are, and how they perfectly balance the sweetness of love with the subtle pangs of figuring out your sexual orientation in a world that often pretends gay people are invisible at past. But all those are just pieces of the whole. The banter between characters, the nuanced performances, the quiet, silent breaths of unspoken ideas, the interweaving of humor and heart and anxiety and sorrow... this show is achingly sincere in a way that’s almost terrifying at times. It feels like there’s no filter between you and the characters, no invisible wall of fiction to keep you safe from their pain. It leaves you feeling tender and vulnerable in ways that really leave an impact.

But life itself is tender, isn’t it? Life is raw and quiet as well as rushing and furious. It hits you whether you’re ready for it or not, whether you’ve got it all figured out or you’re crouched terrified in a ball, trying to keep all your vitals safe from the storm. And Given captures that particular vulnerability with shocking clarity. You won’t find a better excuse to use the phrase “tug your heartstrings” all year, possibly all decade. The lives of Uenoyama, Mafuyu, and all the rest aren’t anything spectacular. They’re ordinary lives lived by ordinary people, struggling with ordinary problems and grappling with ordinary pain. But that ordinary nature is what allows Given to creep so deeply into your heart and take up shop before you even realize it’s done so. It balances light and dark, joy and sorrow, characters who trade friendly jabs and jests one moment and pull each other down for trembling heart-to-hearts the next. Nothing is overstated, nothing is overblown. It’s all allowed to just... be. This is a slow-burn drama of the highest caliber, one where the slow pace allows you to settle down into it like a big, comfy armchair and feel its folds and caresses wash over you. In time, you’ll find yourself much like Mafuyu, lying asleep in a warm pool of sunlight and feeling your skin shiver as it takes in the world around you more openly than it ever has before.

Given is really damn good, but more importantly, it’s good in a way that’s really damn hard to accomplish. Not many anime have the chops to pull off something so quiet and intimate. Not many shows can show such admirable restraint in crafting something true to life. But Given makes it look like child’s play. Maybe it won’t win any Anime of the Year awards- the lackluster animation can be distracting at times- but your heart will be better off for letting it in.