Review of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya

When analysing art, perhaps the most interesting aspect of it to me is in its ability to communicate and inspire people on a very raw, personal level. Art is certainly a very powerful thing and I’m sure everybody at some point in their lives has been touched by a piece of art before. Perhaps it was a movie that inspired you to peruse filmmaking, as the original King Kong did for me. Perhaps a novel that enchanted you to pick up a pen and ensue writing your own stories. Or maybe it was a song that gave you the motivation to finally pick up aninstrument and learn to play. The pieces of art that mean to the most to us play an important role in shaping who we are as individuals, as well as our sensibilities, especially if that piece communicated with you at an early enough age. I myself have many pieces of art that have been able to profoundly connect with me before, as I’ve already talked about in previous reviews, but perhaps the most prolific, or, to use a more accurate term, important pieces in defining who I am now as a person, was a series from 2006 produced by one of the most infamous anime studios, KyotoAni, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya.

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya was the first anime I ever watched way back in late 2012, knowing full well that what I was watching was indeed anime, and it affected me at the time in ways I can’t even properly articulate. For 13-year-old LIQ, it opened up a brand-new world; a world in which I could freely explore and learn about; a world full of inspiration and creativity; a world that I could escape into from my perceived concurrent boring, everyday life. While I would still consider myself quite an aimless guy, even nearing 20 years of age, my early exposure to anime opened up my imagination as I was exposed to media that I never thought could ever be created, and anime became deeply entrenched in who I was growing into adolescence, and profoundly changed my sensibilities and taste in what I wanted to peruse in terms of narrative and aesthetic when it comes to my passion for filmmaking. For as much as I make fun of anime for all its troupes and clichés, it’s ultimately a medium I care very deeply for, as it is so intrinsically linked to my coming-of-age and Haruhi was the series that started it all, so much so that whenever I think back to it, or re-watch the show, I’m transported back to that time in my life.

While I don’t mean to delve too much into my personal life in my reviews, nor do I usually preface them with this much background information, I believe it is important when discussing Haruhi, as to me it’s an important series in defining who I am today. However, trying my best to squeeze out the immense bias I feel for this show, allow me to elaborate on why Haruhi, disregarding my personal history with it, is still a show worth your time!

Before diving into the various elements that make up the narrative, it’s worth pointing out that there exists two different ways in which you could possibly consume this series: the chronological order (which I will be referring to for the sake of this review) and the broadcast order. Perhaps only unique to Haruhi, during its original broadcasting over in Japan, the episodes were all aired in a non-linear fashion, intermixing the six-episode Melancholy Arc with the other stand-alone episodes, while the chronological order places the aforementioned Melancholy Arc in succession at the beginning of the series, with the standalones at the end. During my annual re-watches of Haruhi I’ve experimented with both modes of watching the series, both of which have their own pros and cons. If you are planning on seeing this show for the first time, then I’d strongly recommend checking out the chronological order first, as it won’t leave you in confusion, and as the Melancholy Arc is presented in succession, it will be easier to follow the events of said arc. However, you may feel that the show suddenly loses its narrative grip half way through the series and just devolves into a series of “filler” episodes (although I’d argue these still hold up on their own which I’ll get into a little later) and indeed the chronological order ends on the weakest episode in which Kyon gets a heater (I’ll be getting to that blasted episode a little later too!) Watching the broadcast order is certainly a unique ride, as the show seemingly seems to jump from random episode back to the more narrative driven Melancholy Arc, and intermixing both during its duration does help in creating better flow, but the first episode would definitely be a confusing one to start off with, if you were to have no context of the show at all. The reason for that is because the very first episode of the broadcast order is of a terrible short film Haruhi makes in episode eleven of the chronological order, and watching this film, with no framework for what is happening or who these people are will certainly be a strange experience indeed. However one may argue that this is indeed a good episode to begin with, as it conveys Haruhi’s meta humour rather well, and as this episode is followed by the first episode of the chronological order by introducing Haruhi’s character as she was absent in the previous one, could be a fine way to start. Additionally, beginning the series in such a way firsthand with no context is an experience I will never have as I watched the series in the chronological order to begin with, so perhaps for those who viewed the show in the manner opposite to mine will be able to properly articulate why the non-linear mode of consuming the show is the one in which people should try.

Ultimately, having two different ways in which one could experience the show just adds onto its overall charm, as well as its potential rewatchability (considering you didn’t dislike it by the time you watched one way of consuming the show) and, if anything, the eccentric nature of Haruhi’s narrative structure falls in line with the eccentricities of Haruhi (and by large the show itself). Regardless of which structure you chose, both are definitely ones that will (hopefully) engage with you.

Before diving into the show, first we must establish a basic plot overview: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya revolves around, well, Haruhi Suzumiya, who is known throughout her High School as being a little less than ordinary to say the least. Having spent her previous school years in search of the supernatural or of aliens through means of moving every chair in the classroom into the hallway, or painting large symbols on the ground, or some other variant thereof, Haruhi is helplessly bored of everyday life. That is, until Kyon, our sarcastic protagonist for this tale, begins conversing with her, providing Haruhi with the idea to start the SOS brigade! A brigade that is devoted for locating and finding the supernatural or mysterious and for making life more interesting!

Haruhi’s narrative is largely dependent on meta humour, poking fun at the abundance of anime and manga that feature characters with supernatural abilities while being that kind of show in of itself, with later additions to the cast who just so happen to harbour these characteristics. While I wouldn’t go as far as to say that Haruhi is a deconstruction of these types of shows or anything, it does play around with its meta elements in rather interesting and fun ways, even extending so much as to parody other genres of anime, such as the space opera in episode thirteen, or the detective genre in episodes nine and ten, all the while being able to carry the weight of these episodes just as a result of how strong the character interactions are and how much energy the show seems to permeate from itself. There’s a nice sense of variety to the episodes thanks to the unique powers each character retains to put interesting spins on otherwise mundane activities. Take episode seven, for example, “The Boredom of Haruhi Suzumiya” in which the SOS brigade plays baseball against an actual team of college students, whereupon Nagato uses her alien technology to manipulate data, in other words, to control the bat and the trajectory of the ball in her team’s favour. And, again, likewise in episode thirteen, to deactivate the computer club’s cheating system when the brigade challenges them to a video game. The sci-fi elements not only extend to making otherwise dull high school activities interesting, but in creating new scenarios entirely, from the characters travelling between different fabrics of reality, or having them encounter strange entities, keeping the show consistently engaging. There also seems to be a level of self-irony and awareness too, as our narrator, Kyon, constantly pokes fun at how ridiculous the show can get sometimes, and often breaks the fourth wall, bringing attention to the fact that we are indeed watching an anime, which to me always came off as wonderfully charming and tongue in cheek, but most importantly, rather humorous.

As I already alluded to, the series can be fundamentally split into two halves: the Melancholy Arc and the stand-alone episodes that follow straight afterwards. The former has a greater focus on more of an overarching narrative, mainly centred around resolving the melancholy Haruhi is faced with, while the second sees her trying to curb her boredom by entering her brigade in various competitions, such as baseball as I already discussed, or going on retreats. While it would seem that the latter half would be weaker than the former as it follows less of an overarching narrative, I’d argue that it still holds up, not only for the energy and character interactions that I mentioned in the previous paragraph, but because the latter half still develops Haruhis and Kyon’s relationship while subtly providing introspection into the other characters, all the while building upon established characterisation. One such example of this would be in the thirteenth episode, in which, Nagato, a character who had been thought of as having no interest in anything aside from books, has fun playing a video game, and by the end of the episode actually admits that she would want to go back next door to play from time to time, adding a new layer onto her character, and making her feel more human (well, as human as possible considering that she is essentially an incredibly sophisticated stream of information, or, in other words an alien!)

While I feel that the latter episodes have enough vigour in them to remain enjoyable, I couldn’t make the argument that they’re all as strong as each other, as is the case of the final episode in the series, in that it is an entire episode of Kyon travelling to a shop to obtain a heater. That’s it! Aside from being incredibly dull anyway, the episode is padded with about three whole minutes of just Nagato sitting on a chair and reading, while the sound of a nearby club, assumingly the drama club, rehearse their play. Occasionally, she turns a page. Sometimes she doesn’t. Riveting! For the final episode of the series, it doesn’t particularly leave a good final impression and is the reason many advocate for people to watch the show in the broadcast order, to avoid leaving the show on such a low note. Funnily enough, it seems KyoAni were even aware of this themselves, and of the reaction this episode must have igarnered from the Japanese fans at the time, as, a year later in their next series, Lucky Star, the protagonist, Konata, upon watching said episode, remarks that, “they really cut corners on this one. Nagato just sat there the entire time!”, before turning to her computer screen and baring witness to the flame war initiated as a result of that enthralling episode.

However, even this weaker episode was still able to contain a wonderful final moment between Kyon and Haruhi, cementing their relationship and bond, and this relationship is the crux of both Haruhi’s development and the entire narrative weight of the show. Haruhi’s internal conflicts and her need for escaping monotony is the cornerstone of her character, and while the other members of the brigade exist solely for her desires (Nagato as the accessory, Koizumi as the man who doesn’t refuse any of her requests and agrees with her on everything and Mikiru as her plaything) it’s ultimately Kyon, the human of the group, who she reflects her personal hang-ups onto, and who has the greatest influence on her actions, making her realise that indeed she is truly human. Haruhi’s desire for an interesting world filled with interesting things is completely viable, as is evident in her short monologue to Kyon in which she talks about the time in which the cold truth was finally thrust upon her. As a child, she came to the realisation that ultimately she is not all that special and is just one person in a sea of millions of people in all of Japan, which not only justifies why she acts the way she does, but it also aids in crafting a more emotionally dense character, and is a definitive point in their relationship as this was the first time she had probably ever revealed such personal information to anybody in her life.

Moreover. in the latter half of the series, Haruhi changes in subtle yet meaningful ways in her relationship with Kyon. Such an example is when she gets irritated when Kyon and Mikiru get along with each other indicating personal feelings for him, or when Kyon’s words have influence over her actions and she thinks twice, as is the case when she offered Nagato or Mikiru as a prize to the Computer club if they won the aforementioned video game challenge.

Perhaps the most interesting moment in the series in which Haruhi’s character grows is in episode twelve, in which Haruhi steps in to cover for a band whose lead guitarist and singer had accidentally sprained her ankle. After doing so, she is thanked for her efforts, in which Haruhi, instead of acting arrogant or boastful at her achievement like one would expect from her character up until that point, doesn’t know quite how to respond and ends up being bashful as a result. Haruhi is not used to people appreciating her, but what’s most significant about this is how she drags Kyon along with her when the girls from the band come to thank her in person. Haruhi needs Kyon for emotional support, going to show just how strong Haruhi truly depends on Kyon even though she would never admit it herself. As much as Kyon would hate to admit it himself too, Haruhi truly does add colour to his life, quite literally in fact, as in the opening sequence for the first episode in which Kyon narrates about his boring everyday life free from espers, ghosts or time-travellers, everything the cinematography is of a washed out dull grey. However, when he meets Haruhi colour returns back into his life. It’s an interesting and creative way to show the affect that Haruhi has had on Kyon’s life, and is one that certainly cements their strong bond.

While Haruhi is indeed a strong female protagonist, and her eccentric, loud and egotistical personality, contrasted with that of Kyon’s sarcastic and cynical comments, is enough to hold the show together, there are some elements of her character that come across as trite. Most notoriously are the scenes in which she forcibly changes Mikiru into different outfits, be it either a maid or into a bunny girl, just to work in some forced fanservice and to market figures and other lewd merchandise that you would expect from a scantily clad anime chick. These scenes are easily the weakest of the entire show, and it’s a similar problem I had with a later KyoAni show, K-on, in which the teacher of that respective series would dress the girls up in innumerable outfits. Mikiru as a character anyway serves very little purpose in the narrative, other than to just drop a hint to Kyon which comes in handy when he finds himself in a helpless situation with Haruhi in episode six, and is more so of the mascot character, as quoted by Haruhi herself.

Nagato, aside from being my first anime crush (I have a serious thing for smart girls with glasses and short hair) commands a lot more presence in the narrative than that of Mikiru, and even has a pretty entertaining fight sequence in the forth episode. Nagato’s deadpan, serious face and mannerisms always put a smile on my face, and she even has a few moments at trying to replicate comedy, such as when she refuses to open the door for Haruhi in episode ten due to her following Haruhi’s orders to an absolute. Much of Nagato’s character gets developed in the move tie-in, The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya in 2010, which was actually my favourite movie of all time back when I had watched it those many years ago and comes highly recommended too.

One piece of criticism I’ve seen regarding Nagato, and the show at large, is how she is essentially a dispenser for exposition, such as in the case of the beginning of the third episode, but I believe this can be generally excused if we take into account Nagato’s character, and how it makes sense for her within the context of the narrative to talk on in long unbroken takes about complicated and intricate systems due to her essentially being a stream of conscious information. Besides that, the few exposition scenes in the series were fine for me, either because they were pretty short to begin with so they didn’t feel overwhelming or they were intermixed with Kyon’s sarcastic comments making them enjoyable to watch, so I’d argue that to make the case of exposition being a problem in the show would be a pedantic one to make. The final character worth mentioning is Koizumi, the somewhat pretentious Esper who, as noticed by Kyon, seems to be putting up an artificial personality of who he truly is in front of Haruhi in order to keep her mental state stable. Kyon and Koizumi’s interactions throughout the series are perhaps some of the most entertaining to watch for me, as the long drawn out pretentiousness of Koizumi creates an interesting contrast with that of Kyon, but there’s also an air of playfulness about Koizumi as well which permeates itself many a time in the various activities the SOS brigade finds themselves in too; he is a character whom we can never really truly figure out and understand, and much about him is wrapped in mystery, much like the origins of the organisation he works for, playing in the meta elements once more of the secret black organisation or any variant of that kind of cliché.

The animation as a whole is pretty consistent and strong, and it really does shine in a couple of areas, such as in the aforesaid fight Nagato is involved with for all the crazy backgrounds and effects, but also during the performance of the show’s most infamous track, "God Knows!" The scene is pretty well damn animated, and the close-up shots and attention to detail in Haruhi’s face as the sweat pours down her face while she sings to the heavens are some great pieces of animation. However, there also a few moments of poor animation too, such as in the case of the already mentioned final episode, in which Nagato just sits there and occasionally moves a page, and in the case where everyone excluding Harhui face off against a giant CGI cricket. While this CGI doesn’t look too bad for mid-2000s standards (and could be argued that, as this is the only moment of CGI integration, it makes the monster seem all the more alien as it doesn’t resemble anything from the established world), there’s a shot in which the backs of the characters move up and down awkwardly like cardboard cut-outs to simulate movement and talking; it looks rather silly.

The music is also of a pretty great standard, and the track, God Knows, is a song that I have listened to so often that I don’t think I could ever forget it; it’s just so damn great! And that greatness also extends to the voice actors too, all of which do an amazing job, featuring two of my favourite voice actors for Kyon and Haruhi: Sugita Tomokazu and Hirano Aya respectively. Speaking of voice actors, Haruhi has probably my favourite English dub ever! Each member of the cast does a wonderful job at portraying their characters, with Freeman, Crispin's role as Kyon I believe outshining that of the original dub!

Additionally, every piece of music the show has to offer is so intrinsically ingrained in my mind, that every time I hear it, I am transported back to the time in which I first watched the show those many years ago, which also means I remember the embarrassing video I made of me dancing to the ending track of Hare Hare Yukai. Every time I revisit that old video, and I remember how much of a weeb I was back then in my outwards love for the medium, I want to dig a dark hole and stay there forever…

To conclude, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya is still one of the most popular anime ever made, and its legacy is still being felt today, with frequent references and call-backs in even recent seasonal shows! Haruhi was a real game changer, and the fanbase exploded when it first came out in 2006, and even though I was six years late to the party, it still had a profound affect on me. Haruhi is a series that I can’t talk about without incorporating my personal history with this community and fanbase, but, even trying to push that aside, Haruhi still has a lot to offer, through its charm, characters and meta elements, even if those meta elements could, frankly, be developed somewhat more and not just used mainly for irony. Haruhi is, at the end of the day, a series I wholeheartedly care for. Perhaps I have been biased. Perhaps I have overpraised the series and looked over its problems too much. But, I believe the relationship between the viewer and how a work connects with them is important, and hopefully I have been effective in communicating that today. With that all said and done, thanks for taking the time to read the stuff that I write, and I’ll leave you with my favourite quote from the show:

“I don’t know how I know I just know that I know you know?”
-Itsuki Koizumi