Jellyfish Can't Swim in the Night

Episode 9

How far must you go to gain respect? Umm.
Well, it's kinda simple, just remain your own.
Or you'll be crazy, sad and alone.
Industry Rule Number Four-Thousand-and-Eighty:
record company people are shadyyyyyyyyy.”

- The inimitable philosopher Q-Tip.

With the last episode's cliffhanger, I don't think most viewers expected Yoru to seriously consider Yukine's offer. For one, everything we know about her character and relationship with Kano tells us that she wouldn't want to suddenly insert herself into such an emotionally fraught situation. Yet the story the writers want to tell is set on breaking up our two leads for the time being, so this episode has to serve that goal by fighting on two simultaneous fronts: to meaningfully flesh out Kano's relationship with her mother and convince us that Yoru would ever take on Yukine's project.

On the first front, “Take a Look at Reality” succeeds with flying colors. It paints a tragically realistic portrait of a young girl who was taken advantage of by the person she trusted most in the world—and how their eventual falling out left her spiraling for purpose and identity after attaching so much of both to her mother. Much like the rest of our leads, Kano was an awkward duckling of a teenager who desperately wanted connection. But instead of friends or fans, she found a parent and boss whose hunger for success outweighed any love for her daughter. Any adult watching will key into the subtle, insidious ways Yukine controlled Kano, tying the girl's self-worth to her mother's success—while never actually addressing the isolation she was feeling and feeling sick at it all.

It's a much more impactful take on the typical Stage Mom dynamic and makes Kano's story feel all the more raw. Watching Kano's faith in her mom slowly crumble is heart-wrenching, bolstered by the stylized animation depicting her perspective as it all fell apart. Though I'm a little disappointed that Yukine apparently wasn't the one who sabotaged the SunDolls' rivals. Technically there's still room for her to have been pulling Mero's strings (I seriously doubt the credulity of a teenager setting up a hidden camera sting and keeping the whole thing secret on her own while also having push notifs for her secret accounts activated) but I worry it's being set up as an out for an eventual reconciliation. Pinning the blame on a shithead teenager who's barely been developed as a character just feels a lot less fulfilling than a cutthroat adult.

On that note, I'm also not sold on Yoru's end of things. Pretty much every scene before she meets Yukine is a parade of Yoru ignoring red flags on all sides for reasons that don't click with me. I get what they're going for—Yoru wants to improve her art and sees this as an opportunity to challenge herself and accomplish something impressive that she can build on. I just struggle to believe she'd put all that before her closest friend—especially after hearing Kano's reaction on the phone. Also, while we the audience know Mero was (supposedly) behind the SunDolls' shady tactics, Yoru and Mei still suspect Yukine was the mastermind. So why in the bloody hell would Yoru even think about working with a woman who's seemingly ruined other girls' careers to get ahead? Like, does the fact that she's contacting you right after you were revealed to be working with her estranged daughter, on a rival musical project, not ring any alarm bells, girl? Look at your life. Look at your choices.

Once Yoru's actually in the room with Yukine, it feels a lot more organic. It's up in the air as to whether or not the producer's appreciation for Yoru's art is genuine but her attention and praise certainly feel true at the moment. I especially like the detail of her noticing the flaws in Yoru's art that Kano glossed over. As sweet as Kano's blind devotion can feel, when you're insecure about your work, having somebody pay enough attention to actually critique it can feel far more affirming than a friend saying it's great because you made it. I can believe that so much attention and affirmation, coupled with the chance to grow as an artist, would be enough to make Yoru agree. If she ever did. Notably, we don't hear her initial answer, only Yukine's affirmative response, so it's possible Yoru's dazzled senses just rolled with the momentum.

Regardless, that gets us to the big, tearful confrontation at the end, which feels unduly lopsided. Even keeping in mind that Yoru doesn't know the specifics about Kano's past, it's really hard to see both sides of the conflict when Kano is so visibly distressed and the writing had to contort Yoru's character so much to get her here. The story wants this to feel like an honest conflict of desires, with Yoru and Kano being torn apart by their deepest insecurities despite how much they care for each other. It's gunning for that same sense of tragic, misguided betrayal that landed so well in The Witch From Mercury but hasn't quite done the leg work necessary for it to click.

I hope this conflict will feel more organic as it moves forward—and we further explore all these tangled feelings, and hopefully get some clarity about the key characters in this conflict. As-is, like with much of Jellyfish, I want to like this turn of events more than I do.

Rating:

Jellyfish Can't Swim in the Night is currently streaming on HIDIVE.