Xenoglossia's Shine: Sowing the Seeds for Future Brilliance

 

    I’m going to start by making one thing clear: I don’t like The iDOLM@STER Xenoglossia. Its very existence is beyond my comprehension, robot/pilot romance is very weird, and it completely bastardizes some of my favorite characters. I watched three episodes with a friend before we both had to stop for the sake of maintaining at least some mental stability, and I’m not planning on going any further than that, especially from what I know about the rest of the series and how it ultimately ends. But something I always found completely baffling about it is the team behind it. The anime was released in 2007 and directed by one Tatsuyuki Nagai, who in following years would go on to direct the 2008 anime adaptation of Toradora—a personal favorite of mine—as well as the adaptation of A Certain Scientific Railgun, which has recently become very near and dear to me (watch Railgun btw it’s amazing). Moreover, the lead writer was Jukki Hanada, who would later go on to serve as the main writer for some pretty amazing anime, namely: Nichijou, Steins;Gate, Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions, A Place Further Than The Universe, Sound! Euphonium, and all of Love Live (excluding Nijigasaki). Essentially, two men who are responsible for so many of my favorite works are also responsible for something that brings me so much agony. From what I knew about Xenoglossia beforehand and what I’d seen in the first two episodes, I just couldn’t believe that this came from the same people, even if it’s their earliest work I’d seen. The first episode provides some solid intrigue with how it goes about introducing certain characters and aspects of the series, a major element of the early episodes of Steins;Gate and Railgun’s Poltergeist Arc, but that was it. Then the ending of episode 3 almost brought me to tears. As much as I despise everything about Xenoglossia, this one scene has been on my mind long after I dropped the series. And it’s because it was the one thing I genuinely liked from what I saw. And I mean I really liked it; it made me want to see what else it had to offer me. Clearly I decided against that, so I really can’t speak for the rest of the series, but I don’t really have to. Because as bad as Xenoglossia is, I did find some value in it from that one scene: it serves as a look into the early work of some amazing creators, the seed that would bloom into their later masterpieces.

 

            This is going to sound very strange and maybe even terrible, so just bear with me for a bit here. So in episode 3 Modenkind decides to send IDOL robot Imber out on a field test, now that Haruka has decided to become its Master. However, they’re unsure if it will even reactivate, as it’s been unresponsive after being attacked by Chihaya. Haruka’s unsure if she can even do anything. But after being reminded of how she was saved from loneliness by friend Yayoi, she feels as though she has a better understanding of Imber in its current state. “This child must be scared,” she tells the field operators.

“After being alone for so long and with that incident occurring the moment it came out again, it must be so surprised, and so scared, that it couldn’t move, and wouldn’t even if it tried to…But! This feeling of fright won’t disappear by itself. Unless it does something about it itself, unless it tries it for itself.”

As Imber gets sent out into the field, Haruka tells it to not be afraid, that it’ll be alright. And as they’re both falling fast into the sea, and the background track rises in triumph, this false interpretation of my favorite character reminds me who worked on this anime, a director and a writer who would both go on to create amazing works about bonds, friendship, family, and self-discovery, many of which have had such an emotional impact on me and so many others, as she says: “It’s okay, I’m not scared at all. You know what? If you show your scary side, others will show their scary sides too. But if you smile, they’ll smile at you too. So…let’s fly. Imber, fly!”

It’s a simple line, but the way the scene itself is composed reminded me so many of those anime that mean the world to me. Just as Yayoi reached out to a young, lonely Haruka, Haruka reaches out to Imber before it falls into that pit of despair. You can’t truly connect with others if you push yourself away; and while it’s difficult at times, and sometimes even scary, you have to put faith in yourself and those around you, and you can overcome it. Sometimes you can’t overcome a barrier without people to help you, but you have to trust in yourself and others. The value in connecting to others and giving people the push they need are key to many of Nagai and Hanada’s later works. It’s the foundation of Railgun’s Sisters arc, and at the heart of Hanayo’s episode in Love Live! School Idol Project. And as I rewatch this scene again, I can’t help but be reminded of these powerful moments.

 

            We move forward with each step we take, and over time we grow and develop the kind of people we are. This is true for how we live our lives, but also for the things we make. It’s only natural that we get better over time, yet if we go back and look at where we began, we can still tell that it was ours. Sometimes it’s in obvious ways, like what we prioritize or how we organize/structure it; other times it’s something more subtle, like a stylistic thing or a certain phrase or two, something we tend to repeat time and time again. It’s things like these that define our style, like our trademark. Those first few works end up being the foundation for what we go on to create. For example: I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed writing essays until about 3 years ago; it was when I wrote a short paper about a writer’s unique style. That was what stood out to me the most, how it was unlike anything I’ve ever read before, and I really enjoyed that. Over time I’ve come to realize that my favorite essays (and coincidentally the ones I consider to be my best) were the ones that were tailored to what I personally enjoyed or loved in a work, or what I found to be most impactful. In a general sense, I write my best when I can fully invest myself into something, when it’s something that truly matters to me. I like to find value in everything, even if it’s something I ultimately didn’t enjoy, which is why I’m even writing about Xenoglossia despite how I feel about it. Getting back to the point, despite the flaws this anime has and how much I dislike nearly everything about it, it serves a special role as an early work from two amazing creators, with hints of something truly great glimmering in their eyes; and thankfully, it wouldn’t be too long before their visions were realized.

 

Anyways check the things these two created (especially the ones I mentioned) and watch literally anything other than Xenoglossia. (The openings and endings are pretty great too but still don’t watch it)

https://anilist.co/staff/103539/Tatsuyuki-Nagai

https://anilist.co/staff/107198/Jukki-Hanada