Music is a terrible thing…If you hear a marching band, you march, if you hear a waltz, you dance, if you hear a mass you take communion. It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. The listener has no choice. It is like hypnotism. So now, what was in my mind when I wrote this? Hmm? A man is trying to reach his lover. His carriage is broken down in the rain. The wheels stuck in the mud. She will only wait so long. This is the sound of his agitation. “This is how it is.” The music is saying “not how you are used to being, not how you are used to thinking…but like this.”

Beethoven, Immortal Beloved (1994)

Note: Almost all quoted dialogue is from the English dub as I feel is not only a faithful adaptation of the intended script but also an eloquent localization which flows more naturally when spoken in English. The result is very poetic.

Within the medium of anime, there is a genre called slice of life. Think of it as weekly dramas or sitcoms. They do not usually incorporate any fantastical elements like magical battles or big robots fighting each other. The is no world saving. What usually makes it stand out as a success is a cast of characters that draw the audience into their personal stories how they interact with others.

Every season, there are dozens of anime series that come out encompassing different genres. The slice of life genre has its fair share of titles and of course there will be ones that rise to the top in terms of quality. Every once in a while, there are titles that not only rise to the top of its genre, but rises above all other shows in the medium to become true works of art. Let us look, with some minor spoilers, at the beauty of Your Lie in April.

In Your Lie in April, Arima Kosei was a former prodigy pianist who was on the track to being a star. One day, after the death of his mother, he suddenly stopped playing in the middle of a performance. His two best friends are Tsubaki Sarabe, a tomboyish girl who has known Kosei since they were little children, and Ryota Watari, captain of the soccer team who likes to think of himself as a playboy and likes the company of girls he considers cute. By the way these kids are the most poetic and articulate middle-schoolers ever. The series is very well produced and is absolutely beautiful to see. It is captivating and will break your heart more than once during the 22 episode run.

Kosei’s for the last few years has been basically wading his way through life after the death of his mother. He emotionally broke down in tears on stage. It is soon evident that the reason for this is that he’d been emotionally and physically abused by his mother to become a great pianist. Critics labeled him the human metronome, someone who plays pieces exactly as they were written.

When he first meets Kaori Miyazono, a fellow student, he is intrigues by her free spirit attitude. Ostensibly he and Tsubake are the tag alongs for a introductory meetup between Kaori and Watari because Kaori apparently likes Watari. It turns out that Kaori is a violinist and that she is on her way to a competition. In competition, the players are assigned a set piece that is supposed to be played as it is written. In this case it is the Kreutzer by Beethoven a piece for Violin and Piano. All the other pianist play well and according to the way it is written, but when it is Keori’s turn to play the Kreutzer, it is not as it is written. It is paced differently and alive with flourish and passion. This annoys the judges who mark her down, but it wows the audience. But is the fictional above quote from Immortal Beloved can be taken at perspective, it is like a heart agitated and exited.

While at a cafe together, Kousei shows some kids how to play Mozart’s “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” but he stops in the middle and leaves after improvising. He confesses to Kaori later he can not hear the notes of his own playing once he starts to concentrate. Kaori knows that Kosei used to be an accomplished pianist and is determined to bring his talents out again. His other friends are all for this as they know he’s been aloof, merely content at coldly transcribing pop songs to sheet music for piano. “For people like us, life without music is death.” she tells him.

She tries to convince him to be her accompanist for the next competition. He is constantly surrounded by the planned piece, with either sheet music taped to his text books or the music playing over the school’s PA system. Up until the day of the competition, he still refuses. “You’ll have me this time,” Kaori tells him. “I know you can’t hear your own notes and that you’re all kinds of rusty. I know all of that. And I want you with me anyway. Maybe we bomb out there. Maybe we step off that stage in defeat. We are going to play. If there is a crowd and a chance to play, I’m taking it. I’ll give it everything I’ve got. And the people who hear, they’ll never forget me. Part of me will echo in their hearts forever. I think those moments are why I’m alive. I was put on this earth to make music, and so were you. So please, be my accompanist. Believe in me, even a tiny bit.”

In his first public appearance since he broke down, he is unable to keep up with Kaori’s free spirited and lively playing. He starts off well, but haunted by the memory of his mother who literally beat it into him to him, he becomes lost. His ability to hear the notes, once again leaves him as he loses confidence. He ends up halting completely.

The competition is over for them, now. But Kaori merely gives Kosei a look and says “Again?” She starts from the top and once again he tries to follow. We hear her thoughts as if he were communicating with him telepathically. “It’s dark and we can’t see where the road leads, but trust in me and take another step. The stars will light our path however faintly. I know they will. Come on, our journey awaits.” At this point she’s just playing to play. “She moves me forward, relentlessly, like a heartbeat. Her music is everywhere.” he thinks to himself as he unleashes himself on the keys not as an accompanist but as a soloist. One of the judges observes it is like observing a musical brawl.  Yet, there is so much spirit and bravado that even though they are now out of competition, they have the audience enthralled, resulting in a rock concert style standing ovation. “The cool dry air, the sent of dust, my journey has begun,” says Kosei to himself.

Yes, they were disqualified, and their performance was technically a train wreck, but slowly Kosei begins to open up and try to come to grips with the inner pain he still carries from his mother’s treatment of him.

It is clear right away that Kosei is attracted to Kaori not just for her musical abilities but for how he makes him feel more alive than he has in years. “The girl who likes my best friend,” he even thinks. Yet, he also knows his best friend likes her and she likes him. Yet, Watari doesn’t have a bone of jealousy in his body and encourages him to be play with Kaori. Of course, Watari is a good hearted playa, so of course he’s got another girl. And as par for the course with standard anime and melodrama tropes, Tsubake as been developing feelings for Kosei too.

As dramatic as the subject matter is, there are great moments of comedy between the characters, much of it slapstick and stylized in chibi transformations where the characters become mini caricatures of themselves. Much of that slapstick humor comes at the expense of Kosei, though as he is often kicked, slapped and yelled at by caricature versions of his friends. This is of course played for laughs and stands in total contrast to the flashbacks of when his mother would abuse him both verbally and physically. This may be more disturbing to some than others and some of you may not see the difference between the slapstick chibi violence and the  memories of Kosei’s past.

Kaori manages to talk (i.e. trick) Kosei into entering a competition featuring Chopin’s Wrong Note Etude. As the layers of Kosei’s old pain is peeled away, the scabs are exposed. Hidden within his pain was the belief that if he were a better piano player, his wheelchair bound and sick mother would get better. Yet, we are still watching the deconstruction of a young boy who is dealing with repressed pain, maybe even depression. Kosei’s memories come flooding back during the competition as he faces down the looming presence of his mother’s shadow, and looks toward Kaori for his inspiration.

In many ways, Kosei shares SOME qualities with Shinji from Neon Genesis Evangelion in that he has led a traumatized life. His pain and trauma stem from merely wanting approval and acceptance from a parent. Yet, he evolves beyond being the human metronome. He has learned to play with heart and love. It even inspires his old competition rivals.

Some of the elements that make the simplest of stories succeed and resonate is of course is in the execution. Your Lie in April is an absolutely beautiful modern anime with warm colors contrasted with the stereotypical flutter of falling cherry blossom leaves. You can tell that this show was not skimped on. Much of the musical performances on piano and violin look rotoscoped which gives it a look of authenticity.

And of course, the music is from some of the greatest classical composers of all time. On hand are Beethoven, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Bach, Kreisler, and Mozart. The original music is good and as well and has a top notch opening song by the group Goose House.

The writing, once you accept the fact that these are the most eloquent middle-school kids in the world, is beautiful. The dialogue when it is not being comedic, is near poetic in the English dub or even when reading the subtitles. The writing works in subtle and complex ways of proving a narrative and advancing some important themes. Kosei may be just be one boy in an average middle-school. But his story just doesn’t effect himself, his success and failures relies on and effects all those around him, from his rivals to his best friends. His joys and sorrows (which are also two musical pieces used, Love’s Sorrow, Love’s Joy) are deeply connected to everyone.

Your Lie in April teaches us is that we matter to our friends and our joy brings them joy. We need personal connections not only to live but to lift each other up. Koari is the greatest personification of that. We can probably relate to those points in our lives where we fee down, with low feelings of self worth. We are not good enough, we can never live up to what is expected of us. So when Someone like Kaori comes along saying something like, it’s all right, be what you are, live like there’s no tomorrow, it is a wish many of us desire over most difficult of times in our lives.

Your Lie in April has more than its fair share of melodrama beyond what was already mentioned. Some of the supporting characters do not have much of a story arc outside of Tsubake. Kaori’s back story is revealed even slower than Kosei’s and it is not until the final episode 22, the finale that we learn her story fully. And we also find out the significance of the title, Your Lie in April. I’ve known grown men to totally break down in tears by the end of the series.

The beauty of the series is not just the gorgeous art but in the main characters. While some may feel like there is too much internal monologues of Kosei and a few others, it actually allows us to enter into not only their personality but  their souls. It makes the show all the more compelling and we end up rooting for Kosei to succeed.

I am an unabashed fan of this series and have watched it several times. It is filled with beautiful animation, classical music, exceptional English dubbing, and poetic writing. It says to the audience, you don’t have to go through life alone, there are people who care for you and even love you. Highest Recommendation

Final Score: 9.5/10