The first few minutes of the first episode of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya left me scratching my head. The bizarre opening credit sequence did not refer to the show as "The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya", but rather as "episode zero" of something called "The Adventures of Mikuru Asahina"; further, the audio sounded canned and the colors all looked weirdly washed-out. What exactly was I watching? (My confusion was compounded by the fact that I had no idea what to expect from the show -- going into it, I didn't know if it was a comedy or an action show or a school drama or what).





I kept watching, though, and by the end it all became apparent: the entire first episode consists of a screening of an incoherent, poorly-made amateur film that the series' characters (most of whom are introduced properly over the next two episodes) have put together. This sort of boldly eccentric approach was, I soon learned, typical of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya: this is a series that refuses to be bound by convention. (The most obvious example of this unconventionality? Most of the fourteen episodes that make up the series were deliberately aired and are more or less meant to be viewed in anachronistic order.) I soon learned as well that the show does not fit neatly into any one genre: it's chiefly a comedy, but also something of a character study, and the series' substantial sci-fi elements are taken deadly seriously (an additional air of Evangelion-style paranoia pervades some episodes as well).

The action centers around the titular Haruhi Suzumiya, a pretty and extremely talented high school girl who seems to be good at everything, but who is also something of a nut: she bluntly tells her classmates on the first day of school that she's only interested in aliens, visitors from the future, and espers (people with special powers), and therefore won't be bothering to make friends with any of them. Thereafter, her puzzled classmates mostly leave her alone, since she refuses to talk with any of them and has a pretty obvious chip on her shoulder. The only person with whom she exchanges any words at all is Kyon, a cynical young man with a deadpan personality who sits one seat ahead of her (Kyon is the narrator of the series; the story is told from his point of view).

She remains sullen and grouchy until she's struck by the idea to create a club devoted to investigating supernatural phenomena, the prospect of which excites her immensely. She gets the reluctant Kyon to join the new club, and eventually rounds up a few others to bolster its ranks: Mikuru Asahina, a voluptuous but timid older student (Suzumiya contends that interesting things involving aliens and whatnot are more likely to happen to good-looking people), a quiet, bookish girl named Yuki Nagato who does nothing but read in the corner all day long, and Itsuki Koizumi, a transfer student who shows up later (Suzumiya drags him into the club because she believes transfer students are inherently mysterious and prone to be involved in secret conspiracies and stuff -- after all, that's usually how they're portrayed on TV). The club proceeds to enter into a number of ridiculous "adventures" (all hilariously narrated by the exasperated Kyon, whose skepticism contrasts with Suzumiya's exuberance), but under the surface some genuine sci-fi stuff begins to brew, and viewers eventually discover that there's a great deal more to Haruhi Suzumiya than meets the eye.

The fact that the episodes are actually meant to be viewed out of order is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of the show's weird willingness to confuse and tantalize its audience, however. Some pieces of the plot are never fully revealed (including some key mysteries concerning Suzumiya), and others are only barely hinted at (I should hasten to add that these deliberate omissions don't detract from the show at all; the story has no problem reaching a proper and satisfying climax).





The first episode is actually the eleventh episode, chronologically, in the series. After the dopey opening credits and theme song (sung by the hapless Mikuru, who wears a bunny-girl costume throughout most of the film), Kyon narrates the onscreen events, explaining that Mikuru's character is actually a "combat waitress from the future" but admitting immediately afterward that he has no idea why that particular detail is relevant. He continues to point out inconsistencies in the plot and other flaws in the production (lamenting, for instance, the incomprehensible conversations between the characters and the fact that the movie inexplicably turns from a sci-fi film into the story of two newlyweds), all the while struggling to lend the film some coherence via his narration. At the end of the episode, after the screening, Kyon and the others are horrified to discover that Suzumiya (the film's director) thinks the film is spectacular and plans on showing it at the school festival. It's a good, punchy start to the series and the characters.

Character designs? Animation? They're all top-notch. The series clearly had some lavish production values; the animation is never anything but fluid, and the show boasts a consistently bright and colorful look. This is state-of-the-art stuff.

I mentioned in my review of Genshiken that I tend to prefer quiet, down-to-earth anime over sci-fi epics with giant robots and superheroes and whatever. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya is a long ways from "down-to-earth", but I enjoyed it immensely nevertheless. Quirky, funny, innovative, character-driven: anime doesn't get much better than this.

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