Finished up
Haruhi, season two. I enjoyed it a lot. It's kind of difficult for me to explain -- I know that people have complained a lot about it -- but I felt like I could relate to it, in a way that I couldn't with the more idyllic
Haruhi episodes. Haruhi's a bright and talented teenager -- a kid, really -- and I admire them for letting her act like one. You know, she's a brat because everything came easily to her, and nothing she does seems quite real as a result. I admire Haruhi a little more for having seen the limits of her character.
Beyond that, it's narratively satisfying to see everyone pushed a little farther than they can manage. We finally see explicit limits to Nagato's powers, tremendous though they are. Mikuru shows off some hints of the personality we know she has. Itsuki comes close to cracking. We have glimpses of other factions. The tensions that Haruhi's antics have hitherto papered over come to the surface, and it's really quite touching to see how everyone reacts.
I also enjoy seeing them iterate one of the classic themes: the transforming power of narrative. All of that stuff about the line between fiction and reality -- that's not something that sprang full-formed from
Haruhi's staff. It's one of the oldest conflicts in storytelling. Hitchcock was legendarily obsessed with it -- film as agent of violent and catastrophic change. Tarantino's
Inglourious Basterds plays out the theme the same way, with explosions catalyzed and given meaning by a movie projection. If we look earlier, we have Shakespeare's
The Tempest, in which Prospero's magic-as-text is the very heart and pith of the narrative.
So you can imagine that I spent a good deal of time chuckling with recognition. I enjoy seeing these things done well.
And the last shot of Haruhi, right at the end, where she glances over her shoulder at Kyon -- it's perfect. Just perfect.
words from chris, 2009-10-07 01:13:33, los angeles
