I realize this is the first time I’m actually writing an essay regarding my thoughts on an Anime. For a site named Anima & Anime, it’s a bit embarrassing that all I’ve ever turned up are rants and rankings of currently airing shows — all the while looking like a half-decapitated chicken trying to pass off as a full-time writer. But essay writing really is something different in that I don’t necessarily have a point to prove. Instead, all I do is simply talk about something that has piqued my interest, case-in-point summer 2016’s understated star: Planetarian ~Reverie of a Little Planet~.

For a show that is only five episodes long, there is a gracefulness to its execution that is both simple yet deliberate. As a part of Visual Art’s/Key’s visual novel line up, it is probably not as dramatically verbose as stories like CLANNAD or Kanon. Regardless, it still makes a solid attempt at yanking the emotional feels of any casual viewer. It’s quite obvious, given the themes, that the story will end in tragedy, but tragedies work precisely because they do not brood over the obvious demise of a member of its cast. Instead, tragedies elevate and emphasize the emotional toils of its characters, allowing their sacrifices to serve as living messages for those left behind (and those watching, as well). A good tragedy, therefore, transcends beyond the explicit experience of sorrow in order to depict a greater message of truth and hope. And this is why Planetarian gets everything right when it comes to depicting sensitive topics such as death and despair. It’s not enough that you punch people in the emotional gut just for the sake of it; this show is far more sincere than that, and yet still deliberately poignant.

Planetarian starts off with the “birth” of Yumemi — the “bargain bin” robot girl tasked to serve as the tour guide at the Hanabishi department store planetarium. We see the world for the first time through Yumemi’s eyes, complete with cryptic-looking, holographic cyphers whizzing about her HUD. It identifies her world as warm and inviting, but at the same time clearly delineates her cold and artificial nature. We are then suddenly shifted to a parting scene where her human counterparts explain to her that they “cannot stay” and request that she “stay strong” under the pretext that “they’ll be back”.

But of course they won’t be back. The world has fallen into chaos. Biological warfare has plunged the world of Yumemi into darkness, and the bustling city she once knew is now a disintegrating maze of decrepit buildings doomed to the ravages of time and neglect. Devoid of humans, the city is now host to weaponized robots that scout the grounds for any signs of life, effectively eliminating anything that breaths or moves. It is in this post-apocalyptic setting that the story of Planetarian takes place. Continue reading →