BT: First round will be for Nonsensical Openings. Strange or absurd stuff, sometimes fun, sometimes just odd. Things chock full of creative editing, subliminal images—all that good stuff. They might even make a little sense if you get the symbolism.
Because this whole mess is my fault, I’ll lead off.
I’ll throw in one of my favorite pick-me-ups from the past couple years: Ore no Kanojo to Osananajimi ga Shuraba Sugiru. You know, OreShura. (I bet you knew.) Which I suppose makes it as much a “Happy” opening. But it’s also so in love with its cute, fluffy, sugary, happy, “Girlish Lover” imagery that it can feel a little…unhinged. Certainly a bright and colorful sensory overload.
GBS: Of all the things you point out, what strikes me the most about that one is the color scheme. Each girl has her own pastel color assigned to her (and the four-color scheme is retained even in the ending animation).
BG: Besides the undeniable cuteness of all of the girls and their outfits, one of the things that stands out most about the opening’s visuals to me is the food imagery. Love stuff like the oversized sweets and Masuzu’s banana phone.
BT: And that’s the cool part about it, I think. It’s not just all of that stuff put in a blender with no design to it. Some of it is just what it is, but some imagery—like the coloring, and all that food!—is symbolic with what’s in the show. And that song, such perfect, classic bubblegum pop. Maybe too much for some, and not what I’d usually listen to on a daily basis, but for anime like this, it’s perfect.
Also, since I picked OreShura, I win! Because Ai always wins!
GBS: Sorry, you’ve lost, since you forgot to include the “-chan” after her name. Ai-chan always calls herself Ai-chan.
BT: Aww. Sorry, Ai(-chan).
GBS: So, how am I supposed to face the undefeated Ai-chan? I guess by going for as nonsensical as possible when it comes to openings. So, I’ll see your OreShura and raise you a Nichijou. The first opening to the series, set to the tune “Hyadain no Kakakata kataomoi-C” by Hyadain, is a series of extreme pan-in closeups and strange little vignettes that suddenly becomes sensical in the middle for a few seconds (the Nano Interlude), but then goes right back to being utterly nutty.
BT: Nichijou’s first opening is all sorts of brilliant for one of the most brilliant little shows out there. It’s one of those things that is more an experience than a simple two-dimensional piece of animation—3D without the glasses, the way it pulls in and out.
GBS: All of that and frantic pacing. It’s the pacing that really makes it, with that perfect little pause in the middle before running you downhill again.
BG: That “running you downhill” moment always got me so excited. Even during the fast-paced segments, there are cute down-to-earth moments mixed in with the insanity, like how Misato has a sleepover with her friends. Just a few scenes earlier she was blasting away with her heavy weaponry. It’s fitting with how the show itself is. Character quirks are emphasized in a rather entertaining way throughout, like seeing Mai dance with her friends with her usual expression and opened book in hand.
BT: The pacing, with the odd interlude in the middle, almost makes it feel subversive. I’m not sure why.
GBS: It’s definitely teasing the viewer. “Try to figure this out…if you can!” And the second opening is even crazier. Actually, a little too nonsensical for my taste.
BT: Unfortunately for you, you include an OP from a show with Yuuko. And the world hates poor Yuuko.
GBS: Alas poor Yuuko. Will she never catch a break?
BT: Well, she has Mai. So, no.
GBS: Since we both struck out, shouldn’t we see what Brandon has for us?
BG: Going from one quirky slice-of-life comedy to another as my choice for nonsensical opening is Azumanga Daioh. In its randomness, it rather delightfully captures many recurring jokes of the series: Yomi concerned about her weight, Sakaki bitten by a cat, Yukari driving crazily, among several others. It manages to say a lot about the characters in amusing simplicity, like the scene where we see Yukari and Nyamo juxtaposed. Signs of some of the weirder aspects of the series show through as well, particularly with the very personification of that weirdness, Chiyo’s “father”, blasting off like a rocket near the end. Azumanga Daioh also provides an example of credits as a visual element of the opening itself, with them being presented in speech bubbles of differing colors. The most amusingly interactive instance is near the start where the girls appear to be hauling the credits around and we see the text move as such.
GBS: Many shows do something similar with their openings: introduce the characters and their particular traits. The quirkiness of the opening is only heightened by the song as well, as Oranges & Lemons have a distinct sound which is both cute and weird. Even though the opening makes sense in some respects (with character introductions), others parts, unless you have read the original manga in advance, are bordering on surreal, including Chiyo-chan’s flapping about in a penguin suit. My reaction to seeing that the very first time was “O…kay.” Once I saw a few episodes, however, it didn’t seem so out of place.
BT: AzuDai is one of the greats. It’s not so much the absurdity and joy that it gives itself into, but, indeed, how clever and even practical it is with that imagery. I have to think it was a great influence on other animation directors for years afterward. The opening chords of the girls jumping in the air is still probably my favorite part—and a similar joy as the zooms in the beginning of the Nichijou opening.
Then there’s the wonderful waving hulu dance thing, especially by the three blockheads. Chiyo-chan in a penguin suit certainly earns this selection major points, but unfortunately those three drag the curve down too much.
Sheesh. I guess we all strike out.
Moving on!
