Shirobako

Episode 6

When I first started watching Shirobako, I was skeptical of what the show was trying to accomplish. I didn't quite understand its appeal, and the vast array of characters and subplots it threw at us felt very confusing. I could see the potential there, but it felt like it was drowning under all the workplace-comedy and moe clichés. Now that it's finally starting to deliver on that potential, I think it's winning me over. I definitely get why people love it now.

The past few episodes of Shirobako have been really strong. A large part of that is we can recognize the various regulars now, which makes it easier to follow their adventures from week-to-week or just within one episode. Even more, I think it's that Shirobako is continually maintaining its focus around a few ideas. Not just one—that's too little—but not different things every few scenes, either. Give us a small handful of things to chew on, then tie those together beautifully at the end, and that's where this series shines.

There are two big ideas in this episode: being willing to alter your plans to account for changes in your industry, and reminding yourself of why you got into it in the first place. These can seem contradictory at first, but they aren't when you think about it a bit. The reasons people pursue a creative profession aren't usually artistic purity or fame and fortune, after all; it's usually love of a particular work, and wanting to create something like that yourself. It's this sort of thing that our two warring animators, Endō.-san and Hotta-san, remind themselves of when they go to an exhibit for Idepon, the anime that got both of them into the medium. Despite their different philosophies on hand-drawn animation vs. 3-D CG, they find common ground, and from there are able to see where the other is coming from artistically.

That ties into the other theme: needing the ability to change and adapt as your medium grows. In the midst of trying to get the animators to sit down and work out their differences, Aoi visits her school friend who decided to study 3-D animation. She says that while she admired hand-drawn animation more, she chose to focus on 3-D because she thought it was more employable, the way the industry was going. She then discovered that it required just as much artistry as the traditional stuff, just as much time studying and fawning over anime she loved, and realized she truly enjoyed it. Then we switch back to Zuka, our voice actor, as she realizes that she make the audition when talking to her mentor. Still, when she sees her mentor's production of Waiting for Godot, Zuka realizes she may enjoy stage acting as much as voice acting.

The choice of play is meant to show that those waiting on the industry to change—or waiting on a role they're not going to get—are waiting for an illusion as much as Samuel Beckett's characters are. Zuka isn't that upset when she realizes this, because she's found another thing she likes that she can still excel at, and she'll probably still continue to pursue voice-acting on some level (otherwise, she wouldn't have much place in this show focusing on the anime industry). She points out that Aoi sounds more upset for her than she is, and it's one of the most relatable moments in this episode for me, as someone who's switched exactly what kind of music career I'd like to go into several times. That said, it would be fun to unpack what it says about Zuka that it's this particular play that inspires her as much as the anime that made her want to be a voice actor. Altogether, it ties nicely into the animators visiting the Idepon exhibition.

Zuka's sub-plot shows just how much Shirobako has spread its wings beyond my initial impressions, to the point where it doesn't work as the "otaku fantasy" at all anymore. It's clearly a much more unflinching look at what it's like to "live the dream" in the anime industry. It means a lot of disappointments, a lot of questioning why you're there in the first place and, if you happen to pursue voice-acting like Zuka is, a lot of busing tables while also waiting for a break that might never come. Yet, the show isn't discouraging or cruel about any of this. It shows you how these careers can suck, but pulls you to your feet again and tells you "You can do it!" It's relentlessly optimistic and feel-good, and that's a good thing.

The music is especially helpful here: consistently one of my favorite things about the production. It's always tuned exactly to whatever mood the episode is trying to convey, and this week that meant lots of mellow, soothing stuff. The frantic jazz of previous weeks was barely present here, since this episode was meant to be a pick-me-up in spite of its dispiriting subject matter. As usual, the visual design is top-notch, especially the gorgeous backgrounds, adding further to the anime's relaxing feel. Just because Shirobako knows the anime industry can be tough doesn't mean it's telling you not to dream. On the contrary, this is the gentle push to succeed for all those dreamers.

Rating: A-

Shirobako is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

Rose is a graduate student in musicology, who has written about anime and many other topics for LGBT site Autostraddle.com and her own blog. She tweets at @composerose.