I agree. While I think Kanon is pretty sad, this does somewhat hurt it as there's not enough meaningful contrast in emotions. Watching the series with the overall snowy setting and constant depressing events means it's hard to feel much else which can seem manipulative.
Is Yuichi's memory loss adequately explained in the VN? Sometimes it feels like an arbitrary device that passively feeds you the answers to the past, rather than him actually discovering it.
I treat all living things equally. That is to say, I eat all living things
Okay bit of a mistake. Almost forgot that it was Trauma-Induced Amnesia. Nevertheless, my point still stands that the memories come back rather passively.
I treat all living things equally. That is to say, I eat all living things
SPOILER WARNING
It's because he choose not to remember because the pain and sheer shock of watching what he thought to be Ayu's death was too much for him to handle. Especially as a seven year old. Kanon is one if the best Key works though. Second only to Little Busters.
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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 (Air, Kanon and Clannad) 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.