First Impression: Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night

Shibuya is at its best at night, when the neon signs and fashionable clubbers sparkle like costume jewelry and the traffic thins out enough to pulsate like a beating heart. Two girls wander around, soaking up the ambiance, unaware that their paths are crisscrossing like the threads of paint in a Jackson Pollock work. Which is appropriate, because it’s a painting that ultimately brings them together: a psychedelic mural of a jellyfish, to be exact. Once upon a time, when Mahiru was a carefree grade-schooler in love with art, she painted that mural on the streets of Shibuya, and Kano saw it and was inspired to pursue her own creativity as an idol. Years later, both girls have had their dreams shattered, but unlike Mahiru, who has locked away her passion in favor of being as mainstream and ordinary as possible, Kano fights on, putting out music anonymously, determined not to compromise who she is. When she discovers that Mahiru is the artist behind her favorite mural, she invites the girl to collaborate, but the wound that prompted Mahiru to give up art is still too fresh and she turns the singer down. Later that week, Mahiru glimpses Kano again on the nighttime streets of Shibuya. Will she have the courage to seek her out and make something of this second chance?

A year ago, studio Doga Kobo brought us a stunningly animated series that engaged meaningfully with the corruption of the entertainment industry and the brokenness of young people who have been chewed up and spat out by its ravenous maw and victimized by the cruelties of social media. Today, it brings us Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night, an original series that resonates strongly with last year’s blockbuster, Oshi no Ko, even sharing a seiyuu in the form of Rie Takahashi, who played Ai Hoshino in OnK and voices Kano here. There is one crucial distinction, though: rather than focusing on the dark underbelly of the industry, Jellyfish seems to be setting its sights more on independent art and the purpose and meaning to be found in creative synergy. In this sense, it’s queued up to be a more hopeful series than OnK, and just as fascinating for fans of the arts.

The direction in this episode is top tier: the cinematography, the powerfully rhythmic editing—at times, rapid-fire, and others, almost languorous—and the attention to detail—like the moment where Mahiru’s hesitation is conveyed through the angle and bend of her legs alone—make this episode stand out in a very full premiere season. The way the story of Mahiru’s loss of childish delight is interwoven with her present-day wanderings in Shibuya is nothing short of cinematic. Her childhood exuberance has been replaced by a strong tendency to hold herself back and self-censor, which is cleverly conveyed through the grainy fuzz and blur of a video cassette rewinding as Mahiru plays out and edits her words and actions in her imagination before doing anything in reality. Meanwhile, the writing from Yuuki Yaku, the creator of Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki, manages to take what might sound like trite themes of the moment—finding yourself, the cost of fitting in, the cruelty of social media—and free them of their melodrama. Instead, Yaku infuses the characters we’ve met so far with a kind of simple genuineness that makes them compelling rather than eye-rolling, and recalls another pair of delightfully crafted characters, Rena Kousaka and Kumiko Oumae of Sound! Euphonium. The nascent friendship between Mahiru and Kano, like that of the brass band duo, is set to play a formational role in their lives and has the potential to be as hilarious and moving a watch as the pair from Eupho. What’s more, the central artistic concept here is intriguing, and I’m looking forward to seeing how this union between music and fine art plays out, and what it is that the remaining members of the creative collective Jelee will bring to the table in future episodes. Also, Shibuya is just so darned cool. All in all, I think Doga Kobo has another winner on its hands here—at least it does for me!

Jellyfish Can’t Swim at Night is streaming on HiDIVE.

claire
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4 thoughts on “First Impression: Jellyfish Can’t Swim in the Night”

  1. But where can we watch it? That’s always the next question when a show sounds as interesting as this!

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