Love Live! Nijigasaki High School Idol Club

Episode 6

One of the most nerve-wracking parts of...well life in general, but especially being a performer, is that you ultimately have to put your trust in others to understand you. Sure, you can carefully choose your words, practice your choreography or instrument until it's second nature, and try as hard as possible to get whatever you want to say across to your audience, but there is always an inherent limitation to language of any kind, and what you mean might not always be what others perceive. At the same time, the possibility of making that connection – of creating or saying something that resonates with even a single other person – is what drives many people to work past that fear. That's perhaps a little heavier a sentiment than what “The Shape of Smiles (">▾<")” is going for, but since I'm neither an aspiring idol nor a tech wizard who can craft a responsive electronic mask to express my emotions, that's the angle I ended up taking to relate to Rina this week.

Because for as (delightfully) cartoony as some of this episode is, there's something deeply relatable about Rina's desire to change and challenge herself clashing with her natural stone-face and social anxiety. The glimpses we get into her outside of the idol club also do a lot to humanize her – from the sparsely furnished bedroom that's dominated by a huge computer and electronic music setup, to the way she casually mentions having picked up gaming and computers as a way to “play alone” as a middle schooler, there's a lot of little touches that make Rina feel more rounded than the gimmick of “girl who emotes through chibi face-drawings” would lead you to expect. Though there's plenty of goofiness to it too. Just the sight of the entire idol club having a heart-to-heart with a cardboard box is hilarious, but it's that exact mix of silliness and irony-devoid sentiment that makes Love Live! what it is. I also adore the way Rina's worries are addressed: rather than just jumping to everyone reassuring her, the first response she gets is from Yuu and Ai thanking her for being open with them. That's a shockingly nuanced way to start what could otherwise have been a rote scene of Rina's friends assuring her that she's actually already great and doesn't have anything to worry about, and I really appreciate these kinds of touches that make Nijigasaki's cast so well-realized.

In general this episode also just feels sharper than the last few, with the requisite training montage pulling a lot of comedic weight. Part of that is thanks to more of the cast being fleshed out, but scenes like Shizuku's vocal training or Kasumi's MC crash-course just land better than previous episodes' equivalents. It's taking a bit to congeal, but there's some strong ensemble comedy to be mined once we eventually get through all of these focus episodes, and it has me looking forward to what later episodes might bring in that regard. Plus any episode with the cast playing VR laser tag is guaranteed to be a classic from the get-go. Also, while this may just be my bias for tech-themed idol solo numbers, I really dig the energy and production on Rina's song at the end. It's blippy and catchy with just enough edge in Chiemi Tanaka's voice to give it character. It's no Silent Hacker, but I'll gladly take Cyber Idol Rina as a consolation prize and a weapon to surpass Metal Gear.

All in all this episode was just good, solidly executed Love Live! fundamentals, with a deft balance of comedy and heart to make me love this awkward cat-robot-angel idol. Next week we'll finally be looking into the Sleepiest Idol with Kanata, and I'm still not sure what the show can do to flesh out that particular shtick. But I was also skeptical of turning a character without a face into a believable person, and look how that turned out. Bring me a dream, Nijigasaki.

Rating:

Love Live! Nijigasaki High School Idol Club is currently streaming on Funimation.