Greetings, fellow anilovers! After many long weeks, Moya and I are pleased to bring you the sixth installment of our collab on Shiki! Let’s eavesdrop on the conversation that she and I had in the not-to-distant past…
NegativePrimes: Basically, the episode opens with Megumi picking up the pieces of her postcard and walking sadly away. But it’s done with this fast forward/rewind technique, and I can’t get a handle on why.
Why do you think it’s done this way only here, at least so far?
Moya: It’s true that the opening of this episode seems to be the only instance of the fast forward/rewind technique, in the entire series too, I believe. Essentially, we get to see the sequence twice—the first time rewound and the second time in correct chronology.
In addition to rewinding, the anime also adds a grainy texture to the whole sequence. The whole thing makes Megumi’s movements seem artificial. To me, the rewound version tells the story of Megumi re-inserting her existence in Natsuno’s world by placing pieces of the torn postcard back on the ground. It’s especially significant that we get a zoomed-in view of the piece with her name on it. The music that plays during this sequence keeps getting interrupted by the rewinding sound effects.
The second version of the sequence reflects the reality. A giant teardrop from Megumi blurs the word “Shimizu” on the postcard (ironically, her surname “Shimizu” means “clear water”). A darker, more dramatic soundtrack overlaps with the melancholic and airy one as Megumi’s tear-stained face hardens into an expression of resentment/bitter determination (her pupils turn red too!).
To me, the first sequence, by portraying the futility of Megumi’s efforts to mean something to Natsuno, reflects the tragic existence of a shiki. The second sequence shows how she bitterly accepts the reality of her existence, and is about to take action based on it. Perhaps in-between these two sequences is a big point of change in Megumi’s character?
NegativePrimes: Makes a lot of sense, what you suggest. And it raises the larger issue of how one’s psychology changes, or stays the same, after becoming a vampire.
As a side note, can we just admire how much Shiki accomplishes with no speaking? So many scenes are like this one, conveying a lot of emotion and narrative without words.
Anyway, with the rewind/replay perspective, we get two different takes in sequence on the same events. Building on what you’ve said, the first version shows the more human side of Megumi, with heartbreak at her love being rejected. The second shows the more vampire like reaction, one which the human girl likely wouldn’t have had. Or is there really that much of a difference between how the humans and vampires behave? I mean, maybe Megumi wouldn’t have turned vengeful while a human, but many humans have.
Moya: Hmm…now that I think about it, I can easily picture Megumi as a vengeful human though, when she finally realizes that Natsuno will keep on rejecting her forever (because surely, she ought to realize that at some point). Being a vampire probably just sped up that process.
And Shiki definitely does accomplish a lot without words! The novel series it was based on, which I bought just last week, also focused a lot on descriptions of atmosphere. I’d love to compare the novel and anime some more, but the novel I bought is in Japanese and it’s far more of a traditional novel than a LN, so I might take forever to finish it… 😂
NegativePrimes: Perhaps she would have been vengeful; there’s something about how she does things that strikes me as different now, though. Maybe it’s that she actually has the power and encouragement (from the other vampires) to inflict serious harm on others. As an ordinary girl she probably wouldn’t have felt capable of killing Natsuno’s friend, as jealous as she may have been; as a vampire, it’s literally as easy as eating and drinking for her.
Moya: Good point there. Being a vampire gives her a lot more power and justification. One question I have: did the scene take place after she killed Tohru, or was it a flashback to a time prior to that?
NegativePrimes: Well, it gives the date at the beginning, right? We can compare them. [sounds of Primes frantically speeding through the opening frames of the episode.] Ok, it occurs on Monday 9/19. When does Tohru die?
Moya: lol, i don’t have the dates memorized!
NegativePrimes: haha [more frantic scanning through episodes] 9/10. That’s the night Megumi attacks Toru.
Moya: oh okay.
NegativePrimes: Then I don’t know if we can really say that her vengeful personality is only awakened during the rewind/fast forward scene. The innocent, heartbroken Megumi in the rewind scene is perhaps more out of place.
One of my hobbies when reading or watching a story is to notice those moments in which the story itself calls attention to its own medium: In this case, a video calling attention to its video-ness. It’s not quite the same as “breaking the fourth wall”, but it’s similar inasmuch as it requires some awareness on our part of the relationship between ourselves and the art we are observing. I feel moments like this are important because they give us a clue as to how the story “wants” to be interpreted. This one presents us with two different “self-interpretations”, one more mournful and one more vengeful. Which is correct? Are both? Neither?
Essentially, while breaking the fourth wall ruptures the narrative and draws it consciously into our world of everyday experience, Shiki does the opposite here: it deconstructs the fourth wall and rebuilds it with us inside the story. If that makes sense…? Put another way, giving us two different views of the same moment is a way of drawing us more consciously into the narrative.
Moya: Can you explain how Shiki rebuilds the fourth wall with us inside the story a bit more?
NegativePrimes: Regarding the fourth wall, “breaking” the wall means rupturing the narrative in a way that violates the internal logic of the story. So when a character does something dangerous and then looks at the camera and says, “Don’t try this at home”, there’s no reason within the internal logic of the narrative to do so. So for a moment we’re drawn out of the story back into our narrative.
Moya: yup, so far so good!
NegativePrimes: In this case, though, Shiki doesn’t violate its logic: It provides two different ways of interpreting the same narrative. So on the one hand, it’s forcing us as viewers to make decisions about interpretation that are not part of the narrative—which we can only do as outsiders—but both views are consistent within the story’s logic, meaning that our very act of interpretation draws us into the story. In a sense, we become not just viewers, but participants.
Moya: Okay, that makes sense. Participant not in the sense that I relate more deeply with characters and their circumstances, but a participant in the construction of the narrative.
NegativePrimes: Right. In a way analogous to, but not identical with, the construction that the chraacters themselves give to the narrative.
Moya: A cool way to put it!
NegativePrimes: 🙂 Thanks!
Be sure to check out our other recent collab post over at Moya’s page, on Toradora! 10! If you missed previous installments of our collab, here they are! 🙂 In order of publication:
Toradora 5
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I was waiting for more Shiki!
Thanks! 😺