Things to remember, places to go, pretty maids all in a row...
Sad girls in the snow?
Kidding they are not.
Watching any of the three Key Visual Arts cry 'em up adaptations
by Kyoto Animation
) is an experience best described as a sugar rush cut with varying quantities of quinine; Kanon
of 2006 is no exception, although it's handled with a lighter touch than its siblings. It's safe to say that you'll only enjoy this if you like the aesthetic
, or at the very least are prepared to tolerate eyes the size of angry universes, angel wing backpacks and onomatopoeic verbal tics, among other manifestations of cute.
The show is divided into several arcs, each focusing on one or two of the female leads: the arcs generally stay faithful to their visual novel
counterparts, although the endings have been compromised or otherwise tweaked to circumvent the romantic mutual exclusivity of the girls' routes
in the game. This, for the most part, is rendered into something quite believable, mostly due to how the girls relate to Yuuichi, the protagonist (and originally player avatar): while they are all undeniably sweet on him, they are also all mature enough to concede that his heart belongs solely to only one of their number, and gracefully bow out accordingly. Well, there's Makoto, but she's...uh...different.
Much of Kanon's
appeal lies in the fairytale atmosphere of the narrative, with its subtle supernatural flavourings. The physical setting is itself a contributing factor, a strange subversion of Capra's winter wonderland; the omnipresent snow, however beautifully animated, is as benevolent as it is not.
Alas, it falls short of being a heartbreaking work of staggering genius by a noticeable, if forgivable margin: the relentless succession of tragic events (albeit leavened by suprisingly deft comedy) often feels contrived, and occasionally traverses Deus Angst Machina
territory. But unless you're made of stone, you'll probably be too busy bawling and reaching for the hankies
to either notice or care much because ultimately, the heart of Kanon
is a simple promise of hope and redemption, unabashedly worn on its sleeve: when the snow finally melts, you get your chance to make good.