Ballroom e Youkoso – 21-24

This is going to be a loose, informal series of takes on the last four episodes of Ballroom e Youkoso. We’re saving the professionalism for the series review post. If you think this show is the best thing since sliced bread, or just a competent anime series that you happen to enjoy, you’ll want to avert your eyes.

21: I recently had a conversation with my brother about whether art can be objectively labeled “good” or “bad.” Take anime, for example. Show the same episode to 100 different people, and you’ll get 100 varying ideas about how “good” it was. There’s no perfect metric that can be used to determine the quality of an artistic work – or so I thought, until I watched this episode. It is now my belief that you can fairly and impartially measure how bad an anime is by the length of its flashbacks and digressions. This episode was full of them, and it all started with a two-and-a-half minute free association exercise by our resident rival character, Hyodo Kiyoharu. We got scenes of him grilling his mom about her coaching technique, his opinions on the strengths of different dance partners, and a breakdown of stretches that can increase mobility, all in the middle of Tatara’s performance. This was just the beginning, as the show proceeded to bring Shizuku, Mako, Gaju, and a couple of sideline reporters in on the fun. No amount of metaphorical door kicks could save this episode from distracting itself to death.

22: This episode began with a flashback, but it was self-contained and only lasted for half the episode, so at least it wasn’t disruptive to the point of awfulness. It was Kugimiya’s turn in the spotlight this week, although “spotlight” might not be the best word for it, given the bleak treatment his character received. Production I.G. has chosen to cut one of the brighter aspects of his story: a relationship with a pair of boisterous nephews who support him from the stands. Ordinarily I wouldn’t complain about a reduction in the show’s massive peanut gallery, but this particular omission leaves us with a terribly dark portrayal of Kugimiya. The guy literally wishes for death midway through his dancing career, and upon being hit by a truck, thinks to himself, “There is a god.” Then he wakes up in the hospital, cursing his revival, and has to watch as his former coach breaks down and insists that he study under someone better. There’s plenty more sad stuff in his backstory, but those were the highlights we got before Ballroom reverted to bullshit mode and had Hyodo ruminate on the nature of partnership for eleven more minutes.

23: We’ve entered anime-original territory here. Some of these events were covered by the manga, but the focus on Idogawa (or “Banshee,” as Kugimiya calls her) was totally new. As far as I remember, the metaphor of Chinatsu emerging from an egg in Tatara’s chest is original, as well. What were we supposed to take from that scene, I wonder? That Chinatsu has found a place in his heart, or that he had the capability to understand her all along? It’s a cool-looking scene, but it didn’t make me feel one way or another about the couple. That’s the big issue that I’m having with Ballroom at this late stage – none of Tatara’s triumphs feel earned. It was great to watch him jump for joy when Sengoku called his cell, but if a phone conversation and some cooperation from Chinatsu were all it took for him to power up, it could have happened at any moment. It feels less like a culmination and more like a coincidence. I’ve got other gripes with this episode, but it was mostly decent (with some snazzy dance scenes as an added bonus), so let’s watch the finale and see how it lands.

24: For all my criticizing and nitpicking, I did get swept up in the drama of this episode. Even as I took sarcastic notes about Hyodo’s role as an all-seeing mouthpiece or Tatara’s impossible improvement over the course of a year, I was pulling for the kid to win. And win he did – not just the trophy, but a peck on the cheek, too! With a first place finish under their belt, he and Chinatsu will be partnered for the foreseeable future, and that’s cause for celebration, since they seem to be on the same page all of a sudden. Tatara describes an ability to “love himself and hate himself” when he’s with her, and although that phrase is only half encouraging on its face, the message of emotional openness it conveys is a positive one, I think. During his final dance, the show gave us a glimpse of Tatara’s mom leaving their house, suitcase in tow, for what we can assume was the last time. My guess is that there’s an expressive, traditionally “feminine” part of him that was sealed off when his mother disappeared from his life, and that dance is a way he connects with that aspect of himself. Assuming the manga continues publication, it’ll be a while before we learn whether that theory holds water. In the meantime, I’m happy that Tatara has reached a point where he’s successful and content. After all, isn’t that what life is all about?

Final series review coming soon.