SPOILER-FREE!
Do you remember the moment when an artistic “something” hit you on a level you weren’t expecting? If I could best describe it, it’s as though things such as time, space, and even conscious thought leave one’s mind. You’re left to swim in an ocean of sensation that you don’t quite understand, but you recognize that it’s important. And what’s more, the initial experience isn’t enough; you also feel the urge to learn as much as you can about this “something” you encountered, as you allow yourself to be delightfully consumed by an enveloping curiosity. Everybody has their own moment for that, and there’s nothing quite like becoming enraptured with a new thing such that it takes over your entire imagination.

Blue Period is a series about that very thing. The most-notable challenge about writing such a story is that the inherent emotional connection needs to be expressed in such a way that the audience can relate or sympathize, regardless of one’s own exposure to art or art studies. In that sense, the show has a massive hill to climb, as any potential shortcutting risks toppling the delicate emotional balance that it needs to succeed. That being said, I was fascinated by the premise given my own history of teaching at university.

Yaguchi Yatora is a popular and academically-successful high school student, but doesn’t find any particular satisfaction in his life, be it through friends or direction. One day, he chances upon a painting in his school that he finds himself captivated by, and decides to try his own hand at art. With a striking piece of blue against a cityscape that gains some attention from his friends and others, he later becomes inspired by Ayukawa Ryuji to join the school’s art club, learning more about art as an idea, a means of expression, and devotes his studies to getting into the prestigious Tokyo University of the Arts.

As the main character, Yatora manages to leave a great first impression. His jadedness with things is apparent from the beginning, but because at his core he’s not portrayed with an unlikeable personality, he does not repel. He’s afflicted with ennui more than anything else, simply going through the motions of friendship and school while not gaining anything special from the experiences. Blue Period wastes no time setting him on his journey, showing just enough of his former life to get a hint of his character before it transforms through his inspiration. Yatora seeks to grow as much as possible as an artist, and the show’s strong initial draw stems from seeing his old self countered by his unbridled enthusiasm with feverish intensity.

Part of Yatora’s growth is his becoming exposed to various artistic concepts and techniques, all while trying to figure out what makes them work or not. Exploring these ideas has lots of potential, but Blue Period doesn’t give them enough time to germinate. A few minutes might be spent vaguely discussing why a concept matters, yet when it comes time to watch Yatora put that concept into practice, the show often cuts to his work already being finished and evaluated by his teachers or peers. Learning is not simply taking information in; that’s part of it, but the gradual process of applying that information is arguably the most-vital step. Blue Period far too often glosses over this step, so it’s difficult to gain a sense of what was accomplished if we don’t see deeper contemplation over the minute details play out in real-time with brush in hand. As Stephen Sondheim wrote in his lyrics for the Sunday in the Park with George song “Putting it Together,” “Every minor detail is a major decision.”

The glossing also spills into the other characters’ developments and relations to Yatora as well. The show moves through situations and conversations so quickly that I never got the sense that I “knew” who many of these side characters were, or understood them in the way the material felt like it was intending. This problem ties into the way episodes tend to be structured, as the content within comes across as a series of loosely-connected vignettes – while there is nothing wrong with that form of storytelling, it unfortunately does not do well enough to flesh out an ensemble of this size. Especially given when Yatora begins cram school and we see the same characters several times over, I find myself struggling to talk about these characters aside from a few details apiece, if any. Blue Period’s twelve episodes are too intimately bound to Yatora to cultivate new perspectives or takes about art and character beyond surface-level glimpses.

Other characters are almost completely dropped beyond the first two episodes, or they don’t contribute much to the story when they do return later on. With not enough time to explore the ensemble, their presence feels bloodless. Ayukawa is the only character who feels like they’ve been sufficiently developed with and without Yatora’s presence, as we get a more-thorough exploration of the character’s background and reasoning for why they are involved in art. I enjoyed Ayukawa such that, while I may not agree or like what they would sometimes do in the plot, the drama succeeded more often than it didn’t. The show appears to breathe more easily, even in tenser moments.

When Blue Period actually does take the time to slow down and catch its breath, both the level of introspection and art creation unfold wonderfully. The commentary Yatora has with himself or with his work takes on a marked increase in all of its various emotional facets, from frustration to elation. In this sense, the last third of the show is markedly the strongest of the run; if the first two-thirds were meant to be Yatora becoming familiarized to the numerous aspects of art, the last third shows him attempting to employ everything that he learned into his new drawings and paintings. I was happy to see the show finally bolster its heart with this attention to soliloquy, but was also upset that a similar approach was so underutilized earlier in the run. Taking the time to really show Yatora in the heat of creating, grappling with ideas that he has only just come to apply, was sorely missed.

Also missing is some good animation. Actual frames and movements from characters comes across as clunky, and the color palette utilized is stunningly limited. It seemed like Blue Period cared more about neutral colors, which for a series about art and expression, doesn’t read as inviting. If anything, it reads as conventional. While one could argue that the conventionality is what keeps true to the slice-of-life elements of the series, I don’t find that it did the series any favors for the kernels of character wisdom it sought. The series keeps wanting to dip its toe into the deeper realms of artistic life and meaning, but shirks away from expressing that visually. The potential for going abstract, or breaking beyond reality’s boundary with intense stylization, happens too rarely.

That’s not to say that the conventionality never works, because there are times that it does. When Yatora truly gets into the thick of it, when his introspection works at its most-effective, the mundane movements of drawing and painting can carry more weight. Each brushstroke on the canvas, each scrape of the pencil on the sketchbook, shoulders the burden of Yatora’s future, both in terms of his attempted acceptance into Tokyo University or his own perspective on himself and his work. Helping this element is the sound mixing, which emphasizes the incidental noises and places us within Yatora’s headspace effectively. Though we may not see much of the actual toiling away for their creation, the actual finished art pieces are, generally speaking, quite lovely.

Blue Period restlessly blasts through its material so quickly that both the human and artistic connections suffer, leaving much of the drama falling far short of its aspirations. The consequence is that both the characters and the art themselves are too glossed over to care about deeply. Though it occasionally demonstrates flashes of brilliance both in its animation and thematic exploration, these moments come too few and far between. I am curious as to whether the manga handles the material better, because this anime left me feeling empty. As sad as I am to say, if there is another season of this show on the horizon, and there’s been no indication of that at present, I don’t think I’ll be seeing it.