The average anime cour adapts 4-6 volumes of manga; Bocchi the Rock adapts 1.5. Yes, you read that right, one and a half volumes ONLY! Clearly, something unusual is going on with this 4-koma manga. How could it have provided such rich fodder for adaptation with only a fraction of the material usually required for a season of anime? Is this a case of pure genius on the part of mangaka Aki Hamazi? Or is Bocchi’s brilliance limited to the anime adaptation? How does the manga stack up, especially for diehard stans of the anime?
These were the burning questions that sleepminusminus and I had in mind as we read the first two volumes dedicated to the life and times of our beloved Bocchi.
Read on for a spoiler-filled discussion and some reflection on the art of adaptation.
Initial Impressions
sleepy: My first impressions of this manga adaptation are summarized by a quote from Ryo: The manga “may reach fewer people… but I bet it’ll hit those people deeper.” Four-panel comedy and storytelling isn’t everyone’s thing. Many times, the jokes go so far that you almost want to pet your Bocchi stuffed plush because you feel bad. Despite this, the manga still shines. I almost cried at the same places where I almost cried with the anime. And the last few chapters show promise. Here’s to Bocchi becoming the Rock!
claire: I’ll admit, I was a tad apprehensive going into this: the original manga couldn’t possibly measure up to the charm and inventiveness of the anime, right? Surely, the restrictive 4-koma formula would hobble the free flow of ideas, images, references, and ridiculously layered jokes that made Bocchi the Rock the best anime series of 2022. Right?
Turns out, my fears were misplaced! Aki Hamazi is indeed a creative genius.
The Art of Adaptation
claire: Anime has some clear advantages over manga in terms of creating an engaging, immersive experience, and the adaptation of Bocchi the Rock made full use of these capabilities. The most obvious addition was of course sound, but equally pivotal was the animation of the performances, a particular strength of the series. Hamazi does not linger on the concerts themselves in the manga, apart from the occasional moment of dramatic tension (such as Bocchi’s guitar going out of tune repeatedly before busting two strings and a tuning peg), partly, no doubt, due to the narrative constraints of the 4-panel gag genre. More surprising, though, is the way in which the anime develops moments of introspection, giving us even more access to Bocchi’s inner world.
sleepy: Right—the anime gives us a fuller, richer picture of Bocchi’s character and growth than the manga. Take their audition for Starry from from episode 5—the manga cuts straight from Nijika’s comment that they need to demonstrate growth, right to their performance, while the anime adds a little portion where Bocchi reflects on her progress in the band so far.
claire: Exactly! There are extended fantasy sequences as well, as Bocchi’s daydreams (daymares?) spiral out to epic proportions in the anime, like her imagined world tour complete with an idol-style decorated tour bus.
sleepy: I forgot about that world tour sequence—so good! I also think of the cliffhanger that ends episode eleven, right before they head on stage for their final performance. The anime flashes through layouts from the different episodes: cramped, isolated spaces from various moments in the show. But this time, the spaces are empty! Bocchi and the band have moved past what was holding them back.
claire: That’s a beautiful observation! This feature of the anime, fleshing out these kinds of hallmarks and emotional moments, is actually quite unusual because usually cinematic adaptation—be it for anime or live action—falls short of the written medium in granting access to characters’ inner worlds and thoughts. There is no narrator in visual media (unless you’re David Attenborough or a cheesy 80s movie), and this has, for the century that film and animation have been in existence, always posed a considerable challenge to adaptation, producing some pretty heavy-handed, unsatisfactory results on the literalist end of the spectrum, or, on the other extreme, overly subtle approaches that fail to convey characters’ moods, worldviews, and so on, adequately, which makes it difficult at times to understand their motivations.
Kerorira and the animation team found an elegant and unique solution to this age-old quandary in adapting BTR by maximizing the protagonist’s established proclivity for flights of fancy and harnessing it to relay character details and clarify arcs and plot points that are covered in the manga textually rather than visually (or not at all). The result is that the BTR anime does not feel episodic, and avoids feeling parceled up into “gags” or discrete sequences in the way that many 4-koma adaptations do.
sleepy: This is a really insightful observation. I also think the anime succeeds so well at adapting the manga because of how it embraces mixed-media animation. The manga goes to absurd, genre-defying lengths to portray Bocchi’s social anxiety-induced shenanigans, and the anime follows suit by stepping outside the bounds of animation into live-action film, claymation, stop-motion, and more. Like, in episode four, they literally blew up a balloon, wrote the word “identity” on it, and popped it, all to convey a scene from the manga where Bocchi has an identity crisis over talking to Kita. It’s fantastic as an example of how giving creators freedom as a director can elevate the execution of an anime to new heights.
claire: I love that! So true.
The 4-koma Structure
claire: One thing I was not prepared for is just how dense the manga would be! Every single panel—of which there are sixteen on a double-page spread—demands conscious engagement. There is no skimming, and none of that “single illustration across two pages” stuff either. This was a slow read for me, but a rewarding one.
sleepy: I was also surprised by how long these volumes took to read! The lack of any exposition whatsoever, the frenetic and upbeat pace, the proliferation of punchlines—the manga gets overwhelming at times, and I found myself having to read in short bursts just so I could process it all. It’s also a little hard to get invested in these characters when there’s a joke at someone’s expense every four panels. I’m reminded of a time when I gave a sermon that ended with a somber moment of piercing application, which I ended up undercutting with a self-deprecating joke. The moment was ruined by that joke, and I feel a lot of times that this series falls for the same sort of trap because of the 4-koma medium.
But I wonder, too, if that same medium also strengthens the story. After all, viewing time in these short vignettes is, in some sense, what allows Bocchi to persevere through her social anxiety. When you look at how far she has to go until she’s able to interact without others it’s overwhelming—she’s a long way from the top of the mountain! But by facing each interaction as its own little battle, Bocchi is able to take both success and failure in stride. The next set of four panels signals the start of something new—a chance to try again, no matter what came before. Every moment is pregnant with possibility, the breeding ground for something new.
claire: Yes, the renewal of hope is literally baked into the structure of the 4-koma. Every time Bocchi fails or there is a misunderstanding or a mismatch of some sort with her band members—the example that stands out for me being when Nijika discovers Bocchi’s closet shrine to the band photo and fades away in horror like a ghost—the resolute four-stage structure insists that there is another chance to find harmony, which is the fourth and final stage and ideal outcome of the traditional Asian storytelling structure of kishotenketsu (generally used as the punchline in 4-koma). Every miss sets up a new beginning immediately—right there in the column next to the failure— and therefore a new opportunity to achieve harmony, understanding, and peace. And those moments of fulfillment, where everyone is on the same page and Bocchi achieves something for the first time, happen in every single chapter.
So I think we need to read the 4-koma chapter here as a montage of all the failed attempts that happen behind the scenes of that one perfect shot where Bocchi sticks the landing, like a snowboarder or skateboarder trying to master a new trick. We see Bocchi fail and wipeout more often than succeed, but that’s what makes this such a genuine series. And she always succeeds eventually.
Aki Hamazi and Bocchi’s Creative Genius
claire: What delighted me most about the manga was seeing that all the wild creativity, the fantastical elements of the BTR anime, actually had its roots in the manga. I was not expecting that! From citations of The Scream and Dr Caligari’s coffin, to Bocchi’s tsuchinoko form—all the outlandish imagery that defined the anime as a work that exploded the norms of animation actually had their genesis in the manga. That is to say, all the fun starts with Hamazi! She never hesitates to deconstruct her art, especially Bocchi, but other characters too melt and stretch and skew with a plasticity that goes beyond the kind of stylistic genre-hopping we often see in comedic manga and anime.
sleepy: I love how Hamazi isn’t worried about whether deforming her characters will make them less appealing in the eyes of readers. She’s willing to risk putting readers off for the sake of her creative vision. And we don’t really see that so often in the animanga sphere, where it’s so common for artists to create works that check all the boxes: relevance, cuteness, fanservice, and the usual tropes. Back when the anime came out, I mentioned that its genius emerged from how it defies genre stereotypes for the story it’s trying to tell, and after reading the manga I’m more convinced of that than ever.
claire: Totally! She goes even further too: Hamazi also deconstructs manga itself as a medium, with all those metatextual jokes and fourth-wall-breaking moments that create the impression that she uses the manga form to express her artistic vision, rather than because she necessarily aspires to be a mangaka. I love the juxtaposition of eight rigid, perfectly square boxes per page with Hamazi’s playful, inventive, even cavalier approach to filling those boxes, and occasionally exploding them too.
We also see the Yen Press translator catching this vibe and clearly having a lot of fun not just translating the text, but also geeking out over the plethora of inside jokes and references to the Japanese rock music scene that color every page of BTR.
sleepy: Those translation notes at the end are so illuminating! Especially for someone like me who isn’t as well-versed in that space. They also make this series more accessible for the larger fanbase that’s coming from the anime—the translator John Neal does a great job unpacking the animanga terms that some readers might not be as familiar with.
Also, as I read through those notes for this review, I was astonished by how quickly Hamazi was able to pick up the J-Rock scene as someone who wasn’t particularly interested in music before this series. Seriously—there are so many band references! Whether it’s the album cover parodies that begin each chapter, the encyclopedic knowledge of various rock genres/the culture as a whole, or the offhand mentions of indie artists, you can tell Hamazi knows her stuff. This series is really making me want to do a stay-at-home Bocchi pilgrimage where I just flip through the notes, listen to all the bands, and watch all the music videos that are referenced. In any case, I’m sure Bocchi would love the introverted nature of that pilgrimage…
claire: Ha! That’s a brilliant idea!
Beyond the Anime: the Second Half of Volume 2
sleepy: As claire mentioned earlier, the anime covers only one and a half volumes of the manga. That means volume two breaches new territory for Western fans of the series. And I have to say—I’m impressed! But before we continue, make sure you’ve read the volume, as spoilers lurk ahead!
With the school concert completed, it’s time to address the elephant in the room, when is Bocchi going to reveal to the entirety of Kessoku Band that she’s guitarhero? The reveal could really take their band to the next level, but is Bocchi ready for that pressure? And more incisively, does she really feel like the hero she calls herself on the internet? These are questions that linger throughout the volume until, at the end, an incident with a particularly sleazy columnist shoves her identity into the spotlight.
It’s funny, though—like that reporter points out, the whole reveal of Bocchi as guitarhero could have been stretched across multiple volumes. Instead, Hamazi decides to focus on the band as a whole, and the unique pressures it’s facing as it starts to take off. Bocchi leaning into her identity as guitarhero is just one step on that journey, as she realizes that the whole point behind her video channel was so that she could be in a band! Growing together with her friends was always Bocchi’s dream, and it’s exciting to see her press into that here.
claire: I was surprised and delighted to see a new character practically in the next scene after the point where the anime ends. She brings with her a lot of tension and the potential for melodrama galore, it’s true, but she also offers a new perspective on the indie music scene that hitherto has been missing from the series. Hamazi may not have known the first thing about the indie music scene when she doodled her first Bocchi splodge, but with this new character and plot line, it’s clear that she’s made up for lost time.
This is because Cynical Reporter-san manages to lay bare the paradox at the heart of Kessoku Band’s dreams of making it, namely, the paradox of losing artistic independence in the process of gaining the ability and security to produce art. And with it, comes the double-edged sword of fandom, which both supports and destroys the object of its obsession, exemplified by the discourse of “we were fans before they sold out” and “their old stuff is their best stuff.” This is the ouroboros if you will, that lies curled at the heart of indie music, where success is actually your undoing as a band.
So far, Bocchi has evaded the seductive susurrations of that tail-eating snake, opting, as sleepy highlights, for the more wholesome path of growing together as a band. But there are new fissures now in Kessoku Band, or perhaps the fissures were always there, though they went unnoticed, in the form of the girls’ vastly divergent motivations and goals for the band. Bocchi and Kessoku Band are suddenly edging near a crossroads that, until now, has not seemed to be part of BTR’s universe. I hope this signals more development for the band together, and not just for Bocchi, in volumes to come.
sleepy: That’s a great observation. We see the tension between artistic independence and fame all throughout the series. I think about how Ryo left her old band because she felt that they were falling for the siren song of commercial success. That’s why she resonates with Bocchi so much; Bocchi’s engagement with music reflects an authenticity amidst the struggle that Ryo finds lacking in more popular bands.
In some ways, could it be that Hamazi herself struggles with that same tension? Bocchi is a genre-defying story, after all. Few “cute girls doing cute things” stories take as many potshots at their characters as Bocchi does, and few 4-koma stories get as real as this one. There’s certainly a lot of pressure for Hamazi to abandon her authentic creative vision for a manga that would receive more general acclaim and, perhaps, sell more copies. But Hamazi hasn’t given in to that pressure, and that’s why we have Bocchi—as zany, provocative, authentic, and hopeful a series as it is, and as successful, too.
Outro
With that, it’s time to wrap up our review of volumes one and two of the Bocchi the Rock manga! Now that Kessoku Band’s ambitions are set toward bigger stages, will they be able to navigate the pressures of commercialization and fame? Can Bocchi handle the social pressures of new audiences? And more importantly, what abominable monsters will she choose to morph into?
Look out for the release of volume three in a little more than a month! And in the meantime, let us know what you thought about these volumes of the manga—or the anime as a whole—in the comments.
Bocchi the Rock is published by Yen Press.
