Some media says a lot through very little words. Creating a work that can accomplish much discourse with little dialogue takes a certain type of skill. But other media says a lot through a great many words, and I'd daresay that the latter can be just as difficult and impressive as the former. Oregairu was an interesting case for me - not only because it was one of the first shows I've ever seen thanks to a recommendation from a stranger, but also because it's the most dialogue-heavy show I've ever consumed, by far. But it subverted my expectations in a myriad of ways, and I'm happy to come off the third season with a solid recommendation for those of you who (like me) may be delusioned by the romcom genre. I tend to use a lot of words in my reviews and I expect this one to be no exception, so I'll attempt to summarize my feelings in a single sentence for those of you intimidated by the forthcoming block of text. Oregairu is a compelling story of gaining connection, and the visceral reality that comes with the thought of losing them.

I do need to contextualize my journey in the romcom genre before I can really get started. Truly my first romcom probably ame in the form of Chuunibyou, a Kyoani show that floored me with the premise but frustrated me due to its weak male lead and questionable pacing. More recently I saw Kaichou wa Maid-Sama, which I appreciated despite the disappointing male lead, and Toradora! which started with incredible promise and mostly-good cast but absolutely fell flat in the final few episodes. I've also seen the first two seasons of Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai? which seems to be the hot new explicit romcom but I've found frustratingly repetitive and stale, with poor writing decisions becoming more prevalent as the series wears on. So my standpoint entering into Oregairu was one of almost delusion with the romantic-comedy genre. I've struggled to find a male lead I actually liked, and a strong cast to fuel both the comedic and romantic moments. Furthermore and perhaps more importantly, I've become disappointed in the writing. Perhaps I'm in the minority here, but I truly think that a good romcom has a legitimate plot. Why? In my opinion, relationships are the key to the romcom genre, and character development fuels these relationships. Almost all the shows I mentioned above struggle in the plot area, and this causes the relatinships to sufer. Flat male leads, refusal (perhaps fear??) to change the status quo, and extremely rushed unnecessary plot additions fuel my issue with the plots in the aforementioned shows. My delusion with the genre really just stemmed from my delusion with the writing.

But let's slow down and take a look at what Oregairu actually has to offer, and why I feel that it exceeds (though perhaps not excels in) my judgement of these other shows. As I alluded to, the show is incredibly dialogue-based. Many action scenes - such as, for example, the characters walking through a hallway - are short, and are either bordered by dialogue or integrate dialogue from the get-go. It definitely took me some getting used to, but looking back on the series, I can say fairly confidently that I don't mind it for this particular work. Unlike some other shows, when the characters talk, they actually say interesting things. Dialogue isn't just a way to burn time, it is the primary device through which the plot moves forward. And I'm okay with that! It's said that actions speak louder than words, but I'd argue that's only true when the words are vapid. In general, the dialogue scenes are well-written, and most of all, most of them accomplish a purpose. I respect and appreciate your decision to avoid such a dialogue-heavy show if it's not what you favor, but if you're on the fence I would highly recommend giving it a try.

I've waffled long enough. Let's take a better look at some of the categories, and partially because it's easiest, I want to look at the animation and art first. Generally (and perhaps unfairly) I compare everything against the Kyoani standard. And Oregairu - particularly S3 - holds up quite well. The art is generally pleasing to look at, perhaps less so in S1 but definitely moreso in S2 and S3. I'm not going to lie and say it's incredibly detailed, but I'd also argue that it's not necessarily that important for this show. The purpose of the art in Oregairu is to draw attention to the things that matter, and in this case, it's the words and the characters that are speaking them. But though a lot of scenes are just talking heads, it's still clear to me that the animators took care in deveoping the subtle expressions that really drive home the words being stated and the thoughts being visualized. Some of the more intense scenes are actually really well-drawn, to the point at which I explicitly noticed the terrific art rather than being completely drawn in by the dialogue. In a show like this, that's compelling. Overall, the art is good and the animation is too, not incredibly detailed but it honestly doesn't need to be.

The music is where I'm a bit less sure. I feel like a broken record saying this, but I'd argue the soundtrack to this show doesn't notably add to, or detract from, the experience. For reasons stated above, not drawing away from the show is a good thing. An out-of-place soundtrack is something you notice, and is something that pulls you away from the words you're hearing (or reading). Oregairu doesn't have that problem. None of the soundtrack is bad, per se, it's just inconspicuous. I would make the exception that the anime trope of playing vocals in the ending episode(s) is actually done quite well at the end of S3, and it notably adds to the feeling of the moments rather than detracting or distracting. The OPs and EDs are good - I would't say any of them stand out as particularly amazing or bad, however, or forge an inseperable mental bond between the music and the visuals like they do in some shows. Overall, average soundtrack in my opinion, but definition not poorly composed or badly integrated.

All right, with that out of the way, it’s time to move on to the real contents. I find that Oregairu supporters claim that their show is unique in the world of generic romcoms due to two primary reasons: a strong cast and a strong plot. I’d argue that these two features are distinctly intertwined, and I’ll evaluate them together. Specifically, fans of the show argue that the characters are unique, undergo strong development as the series progresses, and follow a plotline that crosses cleanly from unbelievable fiction into familiar reality. As is my tendency on these reviews, I’ll take a look at each of the main characters by themselves first.

In the world of visual and spoken media, narration frequently lies at the center of my analysis. Therefore, I’ll turn first to the man himself, Hikigaya Hachiman. Particularly in S1 but also in S2 and S3, it’s easy to argue that most of the story is told from Hikigaya’s perspective. Long opening monologues seem to be a trope in the shows I find myself watching, and this one is no exception. If you’ve watched even a few episodes of this show, you’re probably familiar with Hiki’s worldview – that youth comprises delusional people living under the impression that all of life’s hardships and triumphs comprise the allure of adolescence. Even from the very first episode, it’s clear to me that Hikigaya views youthfulness as one of self-serving deception. His classmates pass their daily lives deliberately ignorant of the trials that make youth truly suck, instead choosing to classify everything that comes their way into a single bucket: the attractive spice of life.

For Hikigaya, this behavior is disgusting and repulsive. It’s so repulsive, in fact, that he prefers that those who take such joy in their youthfulness would simply cease to live. Die. From this perspective, it’s not hard to put Hiki in a sort of ivory tower, where he looks down with disdain upon the delusional masses who somehow delight in a difficult existence. And it’s not hard to immediately contextualize Hiki as a simple cynic, perhaps just pessimistic. I’ll revisit this shortly.

I’ll skip over Hiratsuka for now, not because she’s an insignificant character, but merely because her importance becomes particularly poignant in S2 and S3. Instead, I’ll move to Yukinoshita and Yuigahama, the other two vertices of the service club’s dynamic triangle. At first glance, it’s not difficult to identify Yukino and Yui as simple foils. Yukinoshita is quiet and reserved, aloof from others but dutifully bound to help those in need. Yuigahama is energetic and outgoing, drawn to help others by personal connection rather than duty. The former says exactly what she thinks, the latter holds back her ideas for a future time. It might seem like I’m drastically oversimplifying the disparity between the club’s female constituents, but I’d argue that the show portrays them as significant opposites right from the beginning. Perhaps the only thing they share in common is their apparent disdain for Hikigaya’s worldview, identifying him (at least in my subs’ translation) as “gross.” Although the reasons why aren’t clear right now, both reject Hiki’s worldview of youthful delusion – a point that becomes a critical plot feature later on.

I don’t want to spend too much time on supporting characters, but it’s worth glossing over them for the sake of completeness. The popular, athletic and sympathetic Hayato who carries opposing worldviews to Hikigaya and thus finds himself at odds with the social outcast. Miura, a figurehead of opposition in Yuigahama’s friend-group who carries surprising disdain for dissident worldviews. And perhaps my favorite, Totsuka, president of the tennis club who seems to harbor feelings of true care for Hikigaya despite his self-isolation. All the makings of a typical high school romcom, with social dynamics, power hierarchies, and conflicts of interest. For those of us who’ve put high school in the past several years ago, it comes across as a rather simplistic characterization of secondary education containing many of the typical tropes. The athletic dude. The popular girl. The quiet guy. How, then, does Oregairu manage to set itself apart?

Thankfully, we really don’t have to wait long to find out. Because it’s introduced in the very first episode I really don’t even feel like this is a spoiler, either. I said I’d return to Hiratsuka in later seasons, but she’s fundamentally important here. She casts a challenge between Hikigaya and Yukinoshita the apparent first time they meet. The terms of the contest are simple – the one who can do the most service is the victor, and the loser must do the winner’s bidding. Why? A simplistic view argues she wants to fix Hikigaya’s social isolationism and cynical attitude. Hiratsuka wants Hikigaya to integrate back into society by challenging the way he thinks about other people. And clearly, the best way to do that is through service of those others – right?

I’d argue the reality isn’t so clear. Firstly, it’s not clear why Yukinoshita is chosen as Hikigaya’s opponent. Is it because she’s smart? Because she can deliver sharp-witted retorts to Hiki’s cynical quips? Or, perhaps more deviously, is it because she’s unable to refuse? This is the angle that I take. Hiratsuka views Hachiman and Yukinoshita’s worldviews as so diametrically opposed that they can’t help but fight to the death. And indeed, Yuki attempts at first to refuse, rejecting Hikigaya due to perceived impure motives. But she quickly caves, and I argue it’s not because she’s bound by duty as the sole member of the service club. She hates Hikigaya not because he’s a gross pervert but because his method of thinking is the exact opposite of hers.

And here’s where I argue the true poignancy of Oregairu S1 comes in. Yes, this is a romcom and yes, there are love triangles. This is a spoiler so loose it’s practically still alive, but the romantic tension between Hiki – Yui – Yuki is the apparent focus of the show, particularly later seasons but this one as well. However, this vapid trope’s major contribution is to conceal the deeper, much more meaningful tri-pointed tension lying beneath. In a battle of worldviews, which paradigm wins out? This question is further muddied when the audience considers that Yukinoshita and Yuigahama’s own worldviews are not immediately clear. The former is terse and reserved, willing to talk about others but ultimately not much about herself. The latter is outgoing and gregarious, but hides a surprising amount of personal pain within. And Hiki himself is stuck with the narrator’s curse, saying a lot about himself that may or may not be true.

While I do seriously think that this theme of worldview opposition is Oregairu’s major theme, I think we can turn aside to look at how the plot actually helps to subtly push this motif forward. The first half of S1 is actually surprisingly episodic in this regard. The service club is presented with a problem that afflicts one of their classmates – whether this be Zaimokuza’s book (he’s a hilarious character by the way), Totsuka’s practice venue, or Hayato’s clique – and resolves it. Sometimes the service club approaches the problem from different angles, and sometimes they disagree on the best path forward, but ultimately they come to mutual resolution. It’s frankly a generic slice-of-life plot path, but it’s nuanced by the underlying theme of mutual opposition. Interestingly, few of these episodes approach the apparent confrontational style of the very first. Hikigaya, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama may disagree with each other, but generally come to some sort of mutual respect for how the others approach problems.

The plot does take a turn halfway through the season, when a major point in the three leads’ mutual backstory comes to light, and while the exact nature of this event isn’t particularly relevant for the purpose of this review, it’s worth identifying this point is pivotal both in the season and the series as a whole. Suddenly, the audience is invited to question Hikigaya’s initial monologue. Do we take his worldview for granted or can we peel back the reasons and experiences that led him to take on this standpoint? We get a parallel story from Yuigahama’s perspective, albeit from a different angle. While Hiki is a social outcast, Yui is a social butterfly – in the same way we question why he rejects people, we’re invited to question why she engages with the people she does. Why does she choose to pursue certain people as friends? What are the burdens that she chooses to embrace, reject or ignore in order to create or break off these relationships? I’ve talked a lot about the diametric opposition of Hikigaya and Yukinoshita’s viewpoints, it’s worth remembering that Yui’s worldview plays a more subtle but equally important role in this battle.

To nobody’s surprise, the series ends with a multi-episode arc regarding the school festival, simply because no romcom/slice-of-life anime would be complete without one. This follows a lot of similar themes to the first few episodes in S1, particularly when it comes to opposition of different viewpoints and problem-solving strategies, but this time with a bit more nuance. Perhaps for the first time we get an idea of reliance between members of the service club – before we had varying degrees of respect, but now we get hints of actual cohesion. Messy cohesion, as Hikigaya’s methodologies still result in ostracization for himself and disagreements between the other two members, but some sort of mutual respect and dependance nonetheless. And what better way to end out S1 than with the first glimpse at this theme, as it foreshadows much more to come in future seasons.

So, in conclusion, do I recommend this season? Yes. I’ll freely admit that it’s a fairly stereotypical romcom on the surface, given the ubiquitous love triangle, typical high school setting, and (superficially) archetypal cast. But Oregairu has the immense benefit of a central motif – the juxtaposition of different worldviews. It’s this centralizing theme that pushes it ahead of many peers and make the show a fundamentally interesting show to watch, and this motif only improves in nuance as the seasons roll forward.