Tick-Tock
As much as animation style, from my personal point of view, is an imperative tool for a Japanese Animated series to competently exhibit – considering how a particular drawn or CG style will inherently resonate with those viewers watching the trailers or seeing the posters – it’s equally imperative for an anime to naturally uphold a distinctive story that has engaging and compelling story elements. Indeed, while a show such as Attack On Titan now has a recognisable visual and contextual style that a wide-range of audiences all know of and appreciate, it was this aforesaid series’ inception in firstly showcasing it’s distinctively haunting scenario which ensnared audiences to watch more and learn about the world’s intricacies. This is very much similar in the case of The Promised Neverland, a new anime animated by Studio CloverWorks, which presents a rather sinister scenario that is addictively gripping to perceive as more episodes pass by; even though it doesn’t necessarily have the visual fidelity Tetsurō Araki’s known anime show. Yet, with this eerie intrigue set in motion right after an amazing opening, does Maoru Kanbe’s series elaborate on its chilling moments and motifs on a consistent basis?…
Set in the year 2045, Emma is an eleven year-old orphan living Grace Field house, a small orphanage housing her and 37 other children. For the likes of Emma and her two best friends in Norman and Ray, life has never been better; with food that tasted gourmet, comfortable beds, open grassy-fields and the love of their “Mother” Isabella. The orphans have every right to do what they want, except venture off out of the compounds or the gate that connects to the outside world. On one fateful night however, both Emma and Norman stumble across a horrible truth; a harrowing secret that places their lives and the other orphans in a frightfully predetermined fate. Now determined to break-out of Grace Field house and utilising their strong minds and physical attributes, Norman and Emma partner with close-friend Ray to peel away at this disgusting facade and find a way to escape with all their other siblings…
As someone who’s naturally fond of the diverse world of Japanese animation and has written about different anime shows and the industry of which it resides in on preceding occasions, if there’s one specific aspect that I’m looking for any new animated show that I come across, it’s a original contextual concept. As unjust as this may come across, considering the industry’s attempts in unsheathing different stories that are instinctively different and appealing, it’s equally as fair to state just how saturated a multitude of Japanese animated shows can be in terms of their way of employing a formulaic structure that’s annoyingly familiar with a lot of other series. It’s at the moment where we recognise these common aspects – whether it’s to do with a character’s personality or a setting that’s similar to another anime premise – that makes us emotionally disconnect with the contextual proceedings; since it evokes preceding story-telling. While this could have very much been the case with The Promised Neverland, series director Maoru Kanbe’s devotion in mirroring the horrific melancholy of the context from the manga to an animation profoundly works and never once dissipates its eeriness. Inevitably, while there will be those viewers who’ll subtly argue the fact that the animated series doesn’t wholly represent the manga volumes, in relation greater character depth and monologues, the animated representation nevertheless provides a compelling and engaging opening to the story that makes you want to watch more and more. As much as the feel of The Promised Neverland very much resembles the ever-popular Attack On Titan, given that the protagonists of both said series are faced in defeating/escaping from demonic entities that they couldn’t have initially imagined, it’s the manner in which certain elements are executed that warrants audience to watch more. The best example of this seen is through the application of the story-telling itself; how it never once personifies the horror through one specific view-point but rather delves into the view-point of other characters. As much as it can been seen that the character of Emma is the viewpoint we latch onto from the start of the series, what’s feasible to see is how the perspectives frequently change; from Norman who calmly and confidently strategies the predicament their in and Ray who happens to have his own agenda’s and secrets. By employing this specific story-telling device, it allows audiences not only for us to understand the motivations of certain characters, but to greatly connect with the aforesaid individuals on an affectionate level. On the thematic approach however, The Promised Neverland upholds a considerate amount of intrigue considering it utilises ideas and approaches that fit in tangent with the said anime’s horrific premise. The more noticeable motif to fathom is the show’s clear indication in being a fairy-tale that subtly weaves neo-thriller genre conventions. Indeed, it very much presents itself as a classical German fable – in showing the central characters the tragic demonic reality of their existence – which is indicative of tales that which warn readers of that awaited them out in the world; comparable to the Brothers Grimm’s ‘Hansel and Gretel’. However, within the same frame, the series seamlessly manifests thriller conventions which harmonise with the story conflict. Whether it’s the formal aspects of extreme close-ups to show emotion, high-angle shots of the antagonist showcasing dominance or the mise en scéne which evokes natural darkness through low-lighting and isolated space, it’s fair to suggest that The Promised Neverland is also thriller that incorporates a blend of sci-fi and fairy-tale tropes.
What’s more intriguing however, is the shows entanglement with time. In relation to general film-making and film theory, the idea of ‘time’ can be used as a contextual and formatic mode of means which not only manipulates the space presented to us – in exploiting character motivations and events – but also controlling the way in which we’re seeing events unfold. Indeed, you don’t have to look hard to perceive just how films of the past seemingly sync their story with that of the viewers watching along. An impermanent example of this seen is through the classic Western, High Noon when a retired sheriff attempts to recruit a posse to defend himself from a gang due on the noon train but soon realises his fate as the ticking-clock counts down the hours and minutes. Aware of every moment left on the clock, these distinctive films on real-time dwell on the slow passage of time to heighten tension and remind us of the inevitability that our own time will eventually run out. While there aren’t always moments like this seen within the disappointingly limited twelve episodes on display, it’s nevertheless clear enough that The Promised Neverland similarly utilises the same methodology to emphasise the quandary that the protagonists are faced with. Whether it’s through the subtle use of continuous POV camera angles that hallmark Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining or boldly displaying huge-imaginary clocks to depict the children’s ‘training’ in playing hide-and-seek, it’s this specific use of the ‘time’ motif that necessarily interweaves with more uneasy moments; whether it’s Emma coldly expressing a blank look in talking to their mother or when the likes of Don and Gilda search in a secret bunker.
As much as the overall style of The Promised Neverland doesn’t necessarily uphold any occasions of grandiose and explosive animation like many popular anime’s of today, what’s welcoming to fathom of the aforesaid anime series, especially in its first episode, is the execution of all its formalities. Everything, from the direction, editing, sound design and musical score worked in tangent to augment The Promised Neverland’s eerie premise which seamlessly continued through each one of the episodes; establishing a momentum without any awkward and unnecessary exposition. As highlighted in the previous paragraph, what was particularly interesting in terms of the animation and the camera angles used, was the specific use of continuous POV (Point Of View) camera shots and how it was the central aesthetic of the show to create this naturally aurora of uneasiness with the characters contemplating their horrific fate and their mother’s true identity. Quite, the visualisation of these said shots is a mode of means which makes us inherently ‘connect’ with the character who’s ever point of view we’re in line with. Most often than not, it’s used as a visual tool to create suspense and make us question what scenario our protagonists are going to be faced with. One downside to this specific method of this animation aesthetic was the somewhat woeful attention-to-detail of the surrounding as the camera is moving along. While there’s no expectation from myself in seeing exquisitely drawn boards of woods and books that amalgamate the house in which the children are living, considering the industry’s ever-changing position in having the money to produce such clarity, the rather broad attempts of CG architecture can, at times, be a little off putting since it doesn’t coincide with the drawn character models on-screen. Apart from this qualm however, the simplistic and pristine looks of individuals, especially there abstract and vibrant eyes and facial expressions, provide a necessary sheen for a sombre series and rather serves as a nice contrast to the more darker motifs. Much of the same credentials can be said in regards to the show’s soundtrack which subtly draws you in with a hauntingly beautiful chorus. As is the norm with every anime series, an opening intro song never ceases to amaze and UVERworld’s latest musical foray of “Touch Off” doesn’t fail to deliver. While the said J-POP band have delivered rather catchy-tunes to several different anime’s in the past, namely with the Japanese animated shows of Bleach and Blue Exorcist, it’s hard to disregard this latest entry since it rightly has enough buoyancy to get you into the mood of watching these characters planning their hopeful escape. Despite playing enough-off the song to the point where I’ve become sick of it, UVERworld’s cover does its job in setting the mood, what more could you want?
Despite the arguable notion that there’s never any real character development amongst the other children and how the series doesn’t opt for a longer episode listing, which would have meant more detailing for specific conversations that characters have and more action that the series lacks of, it’s really hard to fault too much of the aspects that The Promised Neverland beautifully displays since they’re all executed to a high-degree. What’s satisfying to comprehend is that most of what we see, from the story to the chosen film-making choices, are utilised in manner that is so pleasing to perceive, which was been a rather long time from my time watching recent anime. When one episode ended, I was downhearted since the momentum leading towards the end of each little scenario was potent and compelling. By all means, I can’t wait to see what’s in store for the second season next year, considering what happenings and revelations are revealed near the conclusion of the last episode…
On that note, it’s time for me to end this week’s Anime Review. As always everyone, thank you for reading my latest Anime Review of The Promised Neverland and if anyone happens to have an opinion on my review or the show itself, you’re more than welcome to share your thoughts down below. For this week or next, expect to see a review of Jordan Peele’s Us or another Anime review of Mob Psycho 100: Season 1. With that said, thank you once again for reading my latest Blog Post and I hope you’re all having a nice start to your week! Adieu! 😃😮😱👶👿👦👧
★★★★☆ – Alex Rabbitte