The frenzy of anime seasons can always end up causing some shows to fly under the radar in terms of their discussion, either overshadowed by the shonen of the month or maybe just overlooked because people tuned out for a while ( in this case, the Olympic broadcasts). interrupted things a bit.) And here I am, hat in hand, as an incredibly important fall season begins to ramp up, to say: you should really consider catching up on April's bird politics anime.
Well, politics and bird mystery, historical fantasy, among other things. we are talking about Yatagarasu: The crow does not choose its masterdirected by Yoshiaki Kyōgoku (Relaxed camp) with animation production from the Pierrot studio (famous for naruto and Yu Yu Hakusho).
It's one of the most captivating and unique anime series in recent months, constantly elaborating on its curious historical fantasy world, building it with compelling sociological details and the ripple effects of its central magical concept. This fits perfectly with a deliberately paced courtroom drama, full of visual opulence and backstabbing, while also feeling surprisingly down to earth, even though all of its characters can transform into giant three-legged crows. , the mythical yatagarasu of the title. (If you're like me, British, the idea of people transforming into crows is strongly associated with something else.)
As its characters easily turn their bodies and robes into wings, the show feels just as capable of shape-shifting with natural ease: the action, decompressed conversation, mystery, and courtroom intrigue all feel at home together here in the fictional Yamauchi, a land that resembles a feudal past with its kingdom divided into smaller fiefdoms ruled by noble houses. The second half of the season looks even more transformative; hints at a broader mystery surrounding the nature of Yamauchi himself, whose nature greatly expands its thematic scope in ways I won't reveal here. Both parts of the series present these exciting revelations with a methodical and steady pace. But the first half is more focused on his confusion: like the Chisato Abe novels on which the show is based, Yatagarasu features houses ruled by a single monarch, and the series begins as that power is about to change hands.
Image: Pierrot/Crunchyroll
Crown Prince Nazukihiko is about to become ruler, having supposedly inherited the divine power of the “k'inu”: the Golden Crow, which is believed to have powers beyond the other great birds. Yatagarasu begins with a series of secret battles fought on multiple fronts: one is over the line of succession and the other is a competition for the would-be monarch's hand in marriage.
The latter seemingly has less at stake, but is also incredibly revealing of the nobles' attitudes and the show's perspective on them. The first is seen through the eyes of Yukiya, the middle son of a wealthy country family, who moves to the central palace to become the prince's servant. The role quickly entangles him in a complex web of espionage and secret alliances. He is more made for this world than he would like to admit to anyone, much more cunning and capable than he lets on. (Also great: the unlikely, prickly friendship between him and his new employer, the prince.) Just as the prince keeps his own wit hidden, Yukiya acts like a klutz, while secretly bitter about the system he works in, one that broke him. away from his biological mother and left him at the center of the town's gossip, and his distaste for it makes him a perfect agent of change for the prince, loyal to the people rather than the promise of political power.
The show also follows Asebi, a lady who moves into an auxiliary palace while waiting to see if she or some other woman of noble position will become the prince's consort. It quickly becomes clear that everyone is there with an ulterior motive, and the competition for the prince's hand becomes surprisingly intense, even more so than the basic misogyny of women being treated as prizes to be won. That story comes to a captivating and impactful conclusion in an episode that illustrates how exciting it is to simply watch these characters speak the truth about themselves.
The thrill of the show is seeing how these disparate worlds – of fantasy, of potential consorts, of hereditary lordships and warriors and, lest we forget, of giant birds – overlap in secret struggles for power, and how that poisonous ambition trickles down. towards everyone else, fighting for anything that brings them closer to power. It is characterized by quite exciting dialogue, each conversation is a kind of battle in its own way. Sometimes it's not even because of the intrigue; There's a charming friction between Yukiya and his boss, whose elusiveness and air of mystery sometimes give way to him being a rather strange guy to work with, and the show capitalizes on their odd couple relationship for much of its levity. Yatagarasu He's decompressed and chatty, but it's not all heavy courtroom drama. While it doesn't go overboard, the quick bursts of violence can be intense, and a murder mystery arc in its second half becomes surprisingly brutal at points; Even before that, some of the royals' stratagems lead directly to bloodshed.
Image: Pierrot/Crunchyroll
The intricate network of YatagarasuThe cruel and ugly political battlefield is often presented through striking framing, even if the animation isn't always the most striking. More than the action, it's clear that the priorities lie in the character's work: detailed facial expressions that highlight the importance of their conversations, the carefully layered fabrics of the costume design match the character's seemingly delicate behavior, but all with awareness of the facade that this rich wealth provides.
The show's attention to the details of social construction pays off as it shows how everything is poisoned by these power struggles. There is the distinction between “hill crows” of the countryside and “court crows” of the city in the center, this centralization of wealth becomes clearer with the program's trips outside the city to slums built around sides of ravines. Yukiya's brothers are even robbed by wealthy visitors at the beginning (they only get revenge because they themselves have the protection that comes from being the children of a local lord). One of the most horrifying concepts in the show are “horses”, other yatagarasu who cannot return to human form, not for lack of skill, but simply because they are too poor to live on human means.
It's funny to think that the most exciting moments in a series about people who can transform into some kind of bird focus mostly on the human aspect; the transformation seems almost secondary to everything else. It's not that the crows' shapes carry no weight: the fact that all the characters look the same when they turn into birds, although perhaps unintentionally, seems an illustration of how arbitrary these social divisions are, how petty the disputes seem. of the palaces.
There are certainly flashier shows, airing simultaneously and in this new season, but none that have forced me to release the next episode like this one. The show's fantastical hook is only half of the appeal, the rest lies in its fascinating climb up the social ladder and the consideration of how its characters' work relates to the depth of its world-building. Yatagarasu feels incredibly fresh, and while many have affectionately referred to it as the “bird show,” it's more than just a novelty: the continuous surprises of its confident storytelling make it one of the most exciting anime shows of a year. which is already very good, a Claim that I can make without fear of eating crow.