Horimiya: Surprisingly Subtle

Horimiya appears to be a standard high-school rom-com, but it quickly shows how it is more. The series focuses on how people have hidden sides to their personalities that slowly reveal to those closest to them. The main characters Hori and Miyamura develop a relationship while discovering these layers. Hori is a popular, head of the class type. Miyamura appears to be an insular nerd. However, Hori is a homebody who cares for her younger brother; Miyamura has piercings, tattoos, and has average grades at best. Their friend circle also has their own romantic relationships, and Miyamura slowly develops friendships among the group.

Horimiya shines in all of this. You don’t see a lot of the usual formulaic comedy. Rather, you have teen angst mixing with the realistic awkwardness all relationships have. The characters aren’t dense thankfully. In fact, they are quite aware of their own emotions and those of their love interests. The story plays on that awareness for comedy and for heartfelt scenes. The heartfelt scenes contrast the comedy by using subtlety. Little gestures, glances, and double-meaning statements capture the awkwardness of love and friendships. I’m remaining vague so not to spoil any of it for you. When you watch this one, pay attention. The facial expressions and body language surprised me with how much they convey. After all, anime usually isn’t subtle like this.

The story has a maturity to it, a self-awareness, that sets it apart from the usual high-school rom-com fare. Hori wrestles with what the end of high school will entail. Miyamura works at his family’s bakery business and is a responsible person. Sometimes you see flake-outs. These are still anime teens, but it isn’t as common as in most stories. The maturity of the story is a welcome change.

However, some scenes are strange. In one of them, Hori’s father braids and teases Miyamura’s hair. Horimiya definitely has a shojo/josei feel to it during these scenes. Of course, they are played as awkward comedy. Hori’s dad falls squarely into the strange-father role common to anime. Ichigo’s dad in Bleach has many of the same mannerisms despite the two stories standing far apart in their themes. This behavior includes loudness, a breaking of body boundaries, and a adoptiveness toward the non-family characters. Hori often reminds her dad how she is dating Miyamura and how he isn’t.

Hori and Miyamura’s relationship develops in a faster pace than most anime relationships. They don’t take forever to declare their affection for each other. Likewise, they move from hand-holding to off-screen kissing quickly. This allows the story to look at the areas of awkwardness anime doesn’t usually visit: how friends react to the relationship, how it can pressure them to seek their own, and the negotiation of relationship needs against the demands of life. Horimiya does an excellent job in examining what happens when a friend has a crush on another friend’s girlfriend. In this case, Toru has a crush on Hori. The scenes of his heart breaking made me remember my own heartbreaks. Yet, Toru continues to move on in the story even as the heartbreak lingers. This isn’t melodramatic either as you would expect from the usual anime fare. Rather, the story builds up to his heartbreak scene through dialogue and his subtle looks and gestures.

Hori and Miyamura anchor the story, but their friend’s side stories add interest and explore relationship aspects that reflect back to Hori and Miyamura’s relationship. Hiddeness sits at the center of it all. Everyone has secrets and layers of personality that they reveal slowly. As Hori and Miyamura say to each other, they don’t know each other, but they want to spend their time learning. That is what a relationship is about, after all.

Horimiya is well animated, especially with the facial expressions. To emphasize emotions, sometimes backgrounds drop off for minimalist designs with a pastel shadow of the character. The colors chosen for these scenes underline the feelings of the character, often in subtle ways. You don’t need to understand color theory to feel what the animators intend, but a lot of thought went into these seemingly simple emotional scenes. Of course, during the comedy scenes you see chibi-style deformations. However, this overt change of style contrasts and adds more impact to the minimal emotional scenes. Contrast can be a powerful tool if well used.

Horimiya surprised me with how well done it is. It contrasts overt with subtle. It doesn’t get trapped in the usual romantic comedy problems of dense characters. Rather, it explores areas anime doesn’t go into. You still see teen angst, but it isn’t obnoxious. The character interactions are interesting, and you don’t see the strong stereotypes of tsundere and the like. The characters feel deep. The subtlety of the expressions and gestures and the use of background struck me. If you enjoy rom-coms with heart and depth, be sure to give Horimiya a watch.

An Aside

You may have notice my recent anime reviews, when I post them, are mostly positive. I’ve become much more selective of the anime I watch. I allocate perhaps two or three hours a week for watching them, and I don’t want to spend that little bit of time on stories I don’t enjoy. As I get older, especially with the passing of my grandfathers and my grandmother, I’ve become more aware of how limited time is. I don’t want to spend it on stories I don’t enjoy. I used to push to finish a book, even if I didn’t like it. Now I put it down and move on. I have too many books to read. Likewise with video games. If I’m not having fun, I turn the game off instead of push through it. Entertainment media isn’t the place for grit, although it can be a good way to exercise grit every once in awhile. As you get older, you realize the value of your time and are less willing to spend it on what you don’t enjoy. So too with anime.