Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m delighted to announce we’re checking back in on CITY the Animation, and finding out what preposterous nonsense our locals are getting up to this week. The first episode introduced our presumed main trio of Midori, Niikura, and Wako, but as with its predecessor Nichijou, CITY is a proudly ensemble production, boasting dozens of characters who might jump in for a quick pratfall or surreal non-sequitur. The title does not lie; it is the city itself that is the protagonist of this production, a living organism whose many inhabitants all enrich each other’s lives in countless tiny ways.
So far the production has proudly, painstakingly emphasized that active coexistence, opening with an absurd flex of the entire city in motion, and continuing to link its various skits via their spatial proximity and shared cast of characters. CITY’s impressive loyalty to Keiichi Arawi’s original designs not only creates a uniquely charming, almost cut-paper-reminiscent world, it actually facilitates a union of traditional and CG animation that in turn enables the production’s frequent, ambitious junction of narratives, as stories ramble beyond their own sets to coexist with the ongoing stories of others. And this in turn underlines that core theme: that we are all in this together, and that every city is a collective promise, an investment in the love and support we owe to each other. Let’s get to it!
Episode 2
We open at soccer practice, where Captain Obina is addressing the troops
In this era where the art of the layout is swiftly dying, and shows are frequently staged as if we’re just watching a three camera sitcom in front of a CG-painted background, it’s so nice to see this show jumping to elaborate, uniquely angled layouts just to emphasize the sense of space, or hammer in the back-and-forth between this captain and his team. Ever since Tezuka, television anime has always been partially an art of compromise, but Kyoto Animation have never heard of the word
Apparently they lost in the finals because their star player Sasago was injured, we learn as an otter with a mustache and glasses putters around in the canal
A classic reversal of expectations gag here, with the captain “hyping them up” into a shout-and-response about how worthless they are without their star player. As usual, it is the enthusiasm of the execution that really hammers this silly joke home
The elaborate lean-in is often the gag itself, as with this run of the dozen players each contributing a word as they offer a shocked repetition of the captain’s suggestion
This OP is so dang warm and cheerful. It fits this series quite well – tonally, it’s clear Ishidate is going for more of a generally comfortable, inviting atmosphere over the often hyperactive energy of Nichijou
These first cuts emphasize the relationship between town and identity, as we see our three leads as young girls racing down the alleys that shaped them
This aesthetic is simultaneously so distinct yet so naturally animation-friendly. Simple, definable silhouettes, pure colors, and infinite potential for playful, exaggerated character acting
After witnessing a series of preposterous physical feats from our other two leads, Izumi finally introduces herself. She feels a bit like a combination of Mai and Nano from Nichijou – the surreal flourishes of Mai combined with the earnestness and mild nature of Nano
I’ve rarely seen a show use the layers of its compositions in this way. You’ll often use foreground objects to create a sense of depth, emphasizing the theoretically voluminous nature of the composition, but that’s more for establishing the immediate moment than progressing the narrative. Here, the show will often use foreground or background objects as segue points, exploiting its ability to run multiple dramatic tracks at different distances from the “camera” in order to create a sense of spatial continuity between its constantly hopping local perspectives. A very clever way to emphasize the continuity and shared spaces of the city
Feels like Nagumo’s emotions are just too intense for normal expressions to capture, and thus she must resort to new inventions like this “180 degree back-bend” pose of despair
Nice mix of smears and grounded character acting, too – in spite of the embellishments, the characters don’t feel weightless, and actions like Nagumo attempting to swipe this camera are complimented by the follow-through of her momentum carrying her into a near-stumble
We then jump to a meeting of the city’s magazine editorial department, the titling announcing our jump from “Trio” to “Editorial Trio.” Arawi clearly likes working in trios, as demonstrated by the two main trios of Nichijou; he basically creates a manzai duo plus one, having one character be the ridiculous boke (Waako, Hakase, Nagumo), one be the theoretically grounding tsukkomi (Mio, Nano, Niikura), and then one be the wildcard, an often-surreal weirdo who can either yes-and or non sequitur the prevailing line of thought into some preposterous conclusion
This magazine is actually connected to the mangaka plotline, as this is where they publish his Mr. Bummer strip. Feels like Arawi must have been going through it somewhat while writing this particular arc
Excellent trick of our editor collapsing and pleading into a great surge of aura, but that aura is just a second him who is also crying
For our next sequence, Niikura has made an awful face and won’t put it away
Though this over-labored beat of Nagumo baiting praise for nailing the face is actually even better. I like when the characters just sort of wander off along their own wavelength, and her weird humble-brag mouth shapes are fantastic
The more grounded character acting really sells the intimacy and comfort of these quiet moments, like Niikura softly laying out her futon. It’s a nice balance of scenes with no overt gags, simply emphasizing how happy these characters are to be in each other’s lives
We actually flash back to Niikura’s first year in high school, when she first saw Nagumo being her usual energetic self in a tennis match
“The way she was destroying every club one after another even seemed to relieve my depression.” A classic Arawi trick – take a hoary dramatic staple (the inspirational star player raising a wallflower protagonist’s spirits) and push it three steps into absurdity without ever breaking character
It was sharing her fandom of Nagumo that actually made Niikura her first friends
And of course, all this genuine emotional buildup is swiftly put to absurdist use, as our chef pops a hole and swiftly deflates in front of Niikura. An excellent use of this production’s quasi-superflat aesthetic, drawing attention to the apparent two-dimensional nature of the characters
Meanwhile, for our current high schoolers, the task of the day is “Playing God”
These two don’t seem to have as clear of a Nichijou analogue as our other leads – they’re closer to Arawi’s own wavelength, constantly one-upping each other in their free associating play-acting
Though it’s not exactly the same wavelength – Eri in particular is one of those people with boundless creative energy, and Matsuri is just eager to facilitate her ramblings
The compositions emphasize the combined flatness of individual objects yet depth of the overall scene as the two walk home – first a profile shot along the canal that totally flattens the perspective, but subsequently some movement into depth, diagonally angled shots, and even a composition where the pair are caught in reflection from above. The production is reveling in the aesthetic novelty of this world, while consistently reinforcing the idea of this city being a living, walkable place
“Did you tell Matsuri that we’re moving soon?” Whew, what a stinger for this lighthearted sequence
What even is this city’s mascot, this cat-dog-bunny thing?
In our impromptu epilogue, Niikura is compelled to take a 500 yen coin by a procession of devils, all of which are played by her making different funny voices. Perfection
And Done
Well that sure was a lovely load of nonsense, as expected from Arawi and this magnificent team. I continue to be impressed by all the ways this production ensures the city itself feels like a living organism, whose component parts and various residents are all connected, all living their lives in context of and reaction to one another. It’s a wonder that the show is able to so deftly balance fanciful, plainly 4koma-derivative comedy setups with such a persistent focus on physical grounding; the transitions here are key, establishing sturdy visual connections between the school, canal, downtown, and residential area. I’m also quite intrigued by the introduction of Eri’s apparent family move – Nichijou was able to pull off some unexpectedly poignant reflections on family and community, and I’m looking forward to City’s own expressions of how much these characters mean to each other. A show that in every way demonstrates how we are all in this together.
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