Review of Haibane Renmei

Every once in awhile, an anomaly occurs, which shakes us to our very foundation. For the masses, the distinction is straightforward: love or hate; brilliant or idiotic; transcendent or pretentious. When the Beatles came along, it was immediate and sustained adoration. Justin Bieber, on the other hand, was considered the 5th most hated man in the United States, just behind O.J. Simpson. But to explain why the public supports or denounces a particular person/group is next to impossible, as it culminates from the attitude of the era and chance. One thing, however, is certain: ingrained perceptions are difficult, if notimpossible to change.

Once a Beatles fan, always a Beatles fan. Once a Justin Bieber hater, always a Justin Bieber. Once considered an elitist anime, always considered an elitist anime.

The problem with the love/hate dynamic is that critical evaluation is sparse, and if an ‘outsider’ decides to scrutinize the work with a critical eye, he is often castigated for not falling in line — or, ridiculed for not understanding the core themes. Such is the case with Haibane Renmei. An anime that is held in such high regard due to the deep-seated love people have for the members of the staff. Yasuyuki Ueda, Tomokazu Tokoro, and, Yoshitoshi Abe all had a hand in developing Haibane Renmei, but, four years prior, collaborated on a groundbreaking work, known as: Serial Experiments Lain. Which felt much less an anime, and more of a philosophical assessment of the dangers of technology detaching us from reality, how online personas distort our perceptions of others, and how being ‘connected’ (social media) drives us further apart — leading to depression and suicide.

Given Lain’s foresight and success, it seemed only right to set expectations high for Haibane Renmei; or, as I would contend, set the results high, due to the positive perceptions of the anime staff. That being said, before we delve into specific aspects of Haibane Renmei, one critical detail must be mentioned about the show’s staff — or, lack thereof. Chiaki Konaka, the script writer for Lain, Texhnolyze, Armitage III, and many others, was not a participant in the Haibane Renmei production. If you are not familiar with these works, they all contain philosophical themes about the meaning of life, and the omnipresence of technology (and how that affects humanity). Mr. Konaka’s presence in each work is felt profoundly, leaving the viewer in a state of awe and bewilderment. While Ueda, Tokoro, and Abe attempted to replicate this feeling in Haibane Renmei, it never materialized, and often felt devoid of the existential themes it invoked. But enough introductory fluff, let’s get started.

The story begins with a young girl named Rakka (Japanese for ‘falling,’ as she was falling in her dream), awakening in a world she knows not, by a group of people called Haibane. The series leisurely introduces Rakka (and the viewer) to the world of the Haibane, starting in ‘Old Home,’ working our way into the town, and eventually toward the ‘wall.’ Without getting into specifics, it becomes apparent to the viewer that the Haibane are neither human or angel, but something in between. Signifying that they are trapped in an intermediary state (purgatory?) to redeem themselves for a major sin. Hence, they dedicate themselves to working in town to aid the community, on their path of crossing over to the other side (presumably heaven).

However.

Sin-bound Haibane (Reki and Rakka) wonder if they will be able to cross over, and given their finite time as a Haibane, doubts begin to creep in. Particularly for Reki, who experiences a mental breakdown of sorts in the concluding episodes (the most memorable moment of the series). Now that we covered the basics, it’s time for an analytic dive into Haibane Renmei’s three biggest flaws.

1. Faux Redemption

Life for the Haibane is pleasant. So pleasant that it is a wonder how they are being ‘punished’ for their major sin. In fact, the only form of punishment is self-inflicted sorrow (usually through mental anguish cultivated by jealously or depression). Besides the notion of having a finite time in the Haibane world and disappearing forever, life is paradise. The Haibane have food, friends, and a village of people to interact with. Compared to the real world, there were no social or economic pressures that would lead to suicide. It’s like giving a college student who failed his calculus exam a make-up exam, but with 5th grade math questions. How is that going to bring the student to a higher level of understanding? Also, compared to 3rd countries, the world of the Haibane is delightful. It is like a little detour before entering heaven (some people call that a timeshare meeting).

Because the Haibane are residing in a town reminiscent of purgatory (an innocuous version), it seems fitting to compare it with Dante Alighieri’s, ‘The Divine Comedy,’ for proper perspective. In purgatorio — an apt comparison for Haibane — souls are punished in ironic ways to purge their sins. For example, people who exhibited excessive pride, were forced to carry huge stones on their backs, causing them to bend over — as if they were bowing (a punishment, irony, and lesson all wrapped into one package). Yet, the Haibane come to terms with their sin at their own pace, in a comfortable environment; it’s boring as all f—k! Reki displays the most inner turmoil in Haibane Renmei, but the anime staff waited too long to hone in on her moment, and eventually sent her off with a happy ending (contrived bullshit, if I ever saw it!). Perhaps if Reki were the focal point of the series — and if we were given a comprehensive glimpse into her past — the story would have been enthralling. But, alas, we are left with rubbish.

2. Slice-of-Life is impeccable beyond belief.

Besides a few moments of misery, life in ‘Old Home’ is optimal. There is no bickering, internal squabbles, or power struggles amongst the members of the house. They passively accept their responsibilities and express unconditional kindness. Here’s the problem: once you start living with other people — especially non-family members — power struggles ensue (usually immediately!).

This is my spot at the table! Why are you in the bathroom so long? Why do I have to wash the dishes? Who left this mess here?—You get the point.

Furthermore, girls usually gossip (or, so I’ve heard) and develop cliques. Even amongst people who share similar interests, smaller groups form within the main ‘crew.’ This is how rumors spread and internal conflicts arise. The first six episodes of Haibane Renmie were so artificial in its presentation of ‘real people,’ that it was impossible to take the show seriously. When the characters feel unnatural to the human condition and the main goal is to establish empathy with their redemptive process, then the payoff is unmoving.

One could argue that — at the very least — Reki was real, but was concealing her true feelings from the other Haibane (e.g. when she admitted her jealously the day Kuu took the ‘Day of Flight,’ or her ‘disdain’ for Rakka). Of course, this intense tonal shift in the final episode was nullified by a complete 180 to the original, joyful story. The staff, most likely, wanted to display a level versatility to evoke astonishment in the viewer; however, it felt forced and noncommittal. Especially when Rakka read Reki’s journal (literally seconds after she was kicked out of the room) and found out she was a nice girl all along — awww, isn’t it sweeeetttt?…F—k! If you are going to tantalize the viewer with a major plot twist, then don’t pussy out and go for the safe ending that won’t offend anybody. Did Berserk give a shit about the viewer’s sensibilities when Griffith showed Casca his massive hawk dick? Hell no! Because Berserk was attempting to deliver a different experience from the cookie-cutter story model, something that seems lost on Haibane Renmei.

3. Uninspired…everything

The concept of redeeming one’s sins (or a second chance) is nothing new. As a reference point: ‘The Simpsons’ had a Halloween episode where Homer had to complete one good deed to get into heaven; ‘Dogma’ featured two angels (Matt Damon and Ben Affleck) in their quest to absolve their sins and return ‘home’; and Yusuke — from Yu Yu Hakusho — was given a second chance at life in return for becoming a detective. Each example, had a comedic undertone or a unique perspective on the afterlife, whereas Haibane Renmei was laden with happy, insipid moments. Essentially, Haibane Renmei was a puerile version of redemption.

As for the character designs, they were straight up trash. In fact, each character’s bland personality matched their drab appearance…so, I guess that’s something. The artwork was weak and the overall aesthetic was hazy/blurred (symbolism? The f—k if I know). The snow animation in episode 10 looked awful and the introduction of 3D ‘elements’ was — as is the case in all anime — offensive to the eyes.

Finally, in terms of entertainment, the notion of redemption is a terrible concept. People make mistakes everyday, some worse than others. But we can never omit are past blunders via a magical, redemptive process. We must learn from our mistakes, by admitting we were wrong and identifying the prime impetus, rather than expecting a convenient loop-hole toward ultimate happiness. Depression and suicide are prevalent problems in first-world countries (particularly in Japan), and invoking this issues, without providing accurate insight or practical solutions is a massive oversight. Perhaps there was a good or even great anime concealed in this underachieving debacle. But without the necessary talent (*cough* Chiaki Konaka *cough*) it didn’t have a prayer.