In Which We Learn Not To Fear The Kawaii

For all that there are still some out there who insist on lumping anime into "those Japanese cartoons," the fact of it is we're talking about a medium, something which can be used to portray anything your squirrely little brain can conceive. My own collection, in all its towering, six-foot-rack, two-hundred-and-eighty-disc glory, runs the gamut. It can be a dense nugget of pseudo-myth and philosophy (I'm looking at you, Gasaraki). It might be a slapstick romance held together with fan service and safety pins.

It might be something like Ichigo Mashimaro (Strawberry Marshmallow in Plain 'murican): a light little bit of absolute fluff with no weight, no deep meaningful message and buckets of charm.

Now let me say this before I really get going: much as I enjoy it, I seem to run consistently behind the anime power curve by a year or two, so you probably won't find any new insights here if you've seen the show already.

It's a sure thing you can't fault Barasui, the author of the manga, for not warning you upfront. This is going to be exactly what it says on the tin - very light and very very sweet. Seriously. Diabetics would be advised to consult a doctor before approaching it. Watching this is like mainlining uncut distilled essence of moe.

The story's entire premise is this: five girls, one twenty (or sixteen, depending on whether you watch or read), two twelve and two eleven, go around doing...stuff. That's it. The biggest drama is whether or not the girls will get their homework in on time. If you want giant robots, explosions or gobs of romance and angst you ought to move along. Shoo. Go on.

If you're wondering what that leaves to see, well, you can have my place in line. I wasn't at all sure about this whole thing; I can rather proudly say the day-to-day life of the average twelve-year-old girl fails to pique my interest. But my queue at RentAnime was getting thin, and the rabble at TV Tropes were mostly positive about it. So when the first disc turned up, I popped it in, got comfy and let fly.

The initial sugar-shock was rough, but I stuck it out - and oh, boy am I glad. As sweet as this story is, it easily could have devolved into absolute glurge. Fortunately Barasui and company counter this tendency by bringing the funny in great big handfuls. Most of the humor comes from Miu, the hyperactive, over-imaginative loudmouth of the group. If you find yourself wanting to give her a smack (and you probably will), fear not - she takes her lumps early and often. In fact, this is one of the show's best running gags: at least once an episode, Miu will cross the line at a dead run - and the scene immediately cuts to her laid out, usually by fellow twelve-year-old Chika (the "average" one and voice of reason) or Chika's older sister Nobue (who is an elegant reminder that age should never be confused with maturity). The two youngest girls, shy little Matsuri and fish-trying-to-be-out-of-water Anna, are mostly there as foils for Miu, but each has sufficient character to stand on her own when they have to.

If you think you can handle the sweetness, I definitely recommend you pick this up. Should you make it to the third disc (of three, this isn't a long runner), you will find yourself rewarded with the absolute funniest bath-house scene ever. That alone makes it worth the trip.

Thus endeth the lesson.