(Fairly major spoilers for The Disappearance of Suzumiya Haruhi.)

We see it countless times—a protagonist faces hardship in finding happiness, ultimately conquers his demons, and finally begins a new life with an object of happiness. In much of what we watch, this object of happiness is also an object of romance. This is the case for just about every one of those eroge adaptations you love, for just about every one of those harem manga adaptations. Sometimes a series like Negima comes along—it tries to obfuscate the search for love with magic and battle, but it never does so very well. Even one of my very favorite shows, Kannazuki no Miko, is slave to this pattern; ultimately, all that matters is that Himeko and Chikane can be happy lovers in some later lifetime.

Some of the best shows invert this trope—in Honey and Clover, for instance, does Takemoto win love?

But again: most give themselves up to it, to this “hero’s journey” version of romance.

… and what happens beyond that?

Perhaps I speak only for myself when I say I would like to read a story about someone who has found that happiness, overcome those hardships, and is now dealing with daily tedium. How does she remain enthusiastic about what she loves? How does he remind himself of his luck? How does he enjoy what he has?

At the rate at which movies, both live-action and animated, from across the world convey messages of taking risks, moving on, going for your goal—doesn’t the consumer grow restless?

Perhaps I speak only for myself when I say that sometimes I watch a particularly good—inspiring, even—movie or show, one that falls into the pattern I described in the first paragraph but that remains good nonetheless, and I feel a twinge inside: ‘what are you waiting for? Go for it! Find your true happiness!’ And that makes me uncomfortable. Because I’m happy. I’m lucky. At least, I think I am. And show after show, movie after movie, I constantly get this nagging feeling like I need to be more active somehow.

Where are the role-models for a happy, unexciting life with little conflict and a lot of repetition?

The answer is obvious: Aria is a good example. But beyond Aria. Something more relevant to the life of a human on Earth, who falls in love and struggles to live an ethical life in a Mexican Gulf of crude oil? By which I mean—Akari’s world is idyllic. And it’s wonderful. Just like her. But every lesson we learn from her is an abstraction. Is there an Akari who lives in our world, who can act as a more practical exemplar?

I just watched Amélie, a 2001 french film that probably every person in the world except for me had already seen. It rocked. It was beautiful. It spoke to my True-Tearsian crying-heart-imagination whateverthefuckitwascalled.

But Amélie doesn’t teach us much about living.

We see her combat her solitude—and we learn from that.
We see her combat her cowardice—and we learn from that.
We see her plotting—and Ashirogi Muto^[1] could learn from that.
And then we see her love and be( )loved; she is happy as she rides on her boyfriend’s electrical bicycle^[2].

What do we see after that?

Has she conquered her fears? Will she not return to solitude someday? She and her Romeo may be fated to be with each other, a perfect match, fated to be together. This is what the movie suggests. And yet, does life work like that? Relatively few contemporary films/shows make this conceit. And without it, all we know is that she’s happy for a snapshot following her first good sex. Yay?

“lolikit, you’re asking for too much,” you might say.

Or maybe even, “lolikit, no one thinks that deeply about these things…”

But I am. Because I just watched a movie—that one on the 22nd, with my gorgeous gorgeous CCY-senpai—and that movie betrayed the trope.

STOP RIGHT THERE.

Before proceeding, I need you to understand that I am expecting of you all the maturity required to sit there as I tell you that I liked the Haruhi movie. No, no, no, you don’t get it. Today is not April 1st. You can trust the internet. Shut up. Sit there and listen.

The Haruhi movie was good.

But my praise relevant to this post (which is forthcoming below) was not my first reaction to the film. Reality check: I still think the show had some major, major shortcomings. I don’t think it was good. In fact, I think large chunks of it straight-up blew. I’m not flip-flopping.

So. Initial impressions.

First: why did I go to see the movie?
In all honesty? I wanted to troll the shit out of it. I didn’t want to watch Mazui’s “super low quality” camrip, and I didn’t want to spout verbal diarrhea without knowing what the movie was actually about. I managed to avoid spoilers for a long time… when CCY told me the movie was about Nagato, we already had our seats. I was surprised, and I knew I was in for a treat. Not because I’m a Nagato fanboy. Because I had the feeling it would be interesting.

I also wanted to see Haruhi on the big screen—Kyoto Animation didn’t let me down.

Second: any memorable reactions during the movie?
I laughed with the crowd during the opening animation. My heart raced when Asakura Ryoko entered the classroom—I admit, that was epic. I noted Itsuki’s jealousy very happily. I’d never been satisfied with pigeonholing him into the role of “comedic gay guy,” and having this much more realistic reason behind his treatment of Kyon was extremely gratifying. I winced every time Hirano Aya spoke, but she was relatively reserved, so it wasn’t too painful. It helped that Haruhi’s screen time was something like 5% of the movie. Awww yeah. Kyon running to Haruhi’s high school in the altered world was also exhilarating.

Third: any objections?
Two major objections:

Objection A. Kyon pressing the enter key to initiate the reset sequence. He clearly didn’t need to do it to be with Haruhi; the only explanation I can think of is that he wanted to be firm with Nagato. There might be some technicality I’m missing, but it seemed like he and Haruhi hit it off pretty nicely in the altered world. The club had gathered, and what was to stop them from having a fabulous time together?

Objection B. The lens flare during Kyon’s internal dialogue.

Fourth, and last before I return to my main topic: immediate, post-watch summary of feelings?
It was solid. The story was interesting; many of the important parts were very well executed (Kyon’s breakdown being a high-point, his hunching over his bike and saying “I miss Haruhi” being another). Stupid fanservice ratio was much lower than for the actual show. Nagato’s blank personality guided entirely by infantile emotions was very well done, too; initially, I feared “oh crap, did she write herself to be this way? Fucking damn.” But then it became clear. She just erased the lock on her emotions, and became a sort of empty human—empty, that is, save for her feelings for Kyon.

Now, back to the subject at hand.

Kyon.

Kyon.

You spend 15,000 summers with Haruhi, and you still want to be with her. You’re still satisfied with her, with your life. And it’s not because you’re a pushover. It’s because you love her. (Protip: next time you try to justify reverting the world, say that you love her, not that it’s more fun…)

With this film, Kyon goes into the same hall of fame as the beautiful Senjougahara Hitagi. A down-to-earth person who is reasonable and human in his dealings and reactions. Who goes for what he wants, taking others into consideration. Who can home in on the core of an issue.

And ultimately, who is loving.

He loves Nagato—and appreciates very deeply, I believe, that she tried to make a better world for him.

But more than that, he loves Haruhi, and goes out of his way to show it.

Think about it: why would he open that clubroom door?

Think about it: why would he go downstairs to watch that baseball game between two unrelated prefectures?

Think about it: why does he run, run like a madman, when he learns where to find Haruhi? The movie shows us his violent side for the first time. It’s extremely sexy. He goes batshit because Haruhi is missing. And when she’s there, resting by his side in her sleeping bag, his tenderness!

I feel sorry for Itsuki.

He can’t compete.

Ultimately, Kyon humanizes Haruhi. He makes her a sixteen-year-old girl instead of a megalomaniacal goddess. Recall a line from one of my aforementioned favorite shows, Kannazuki no Miko: “You’re neither an angel nor a devil, Chikane-chan, you’re just a sixteen-year-old girl, just like me…”

Kyon makes Haruhi impotent as a goddess. Why would she want to recreate the world? And why would she want to be a total bitch?

She’s improving.

And he, John Smith, is ruggedly taking on an eternity of banal happiness with the person he loves. 15000 summers is nothing for him, it’s a brief moment that Nagato easily erased from everyone’s memories. But 15000 summers is a lot more than Amélie’s “un autre été.”

I hate to say it, but… best anime of 2010, to date?

The Disappearance of Suzumiya Haruhi.

I think we can all learn a thing or two from it.

Footnotes

these notes are like lelouch's head to the boot of this post's suzaku

1. Awww yeah Perfect Crime Club! [↩]
2. freakin’ LOL [↩]