Medalist
a review by saulgoodman
a review by saulgoodman
NIche sports series have always been some of the most enjoyable I've read, from sumo wrestling to competitive dancing, which always seems to share the joint characteristic of the novelty of an unorthodox sport and exhilarating character development. Medalist's harness on ice-skating isn't so much eye-catching as is how distinct its writing is from traditional sports genre. Rather than complying with a middle or high-school setting, the series pivots around the 11 year-old Inori and 28 year-old Tsukasa duo. The competitiveness of ice-skating allocates an especially demanding career time-frame, requiring many to start early as 5 years old to pull ahead of their peers in the future.
Medalist harps on the repercussions of the sport's rigidity on the tender psyches of especially young athletes. This juxtaposition of elementary-school children and the maturity of their mental and emotional issues that even 28 year-old Tsukasa presently empathizes with is the narrative's driving force, hooking you in from the get-go. Although the massive age-gap between the two protagonists could pose an awkward rift in both narrative and theme, Tsukasa and Inori's parallel in their lack of confidence in their abilities due to starting the sport late are established without a hitch. Given Tsukasa's blazing, optimistic nature and Inori's mature, pessimistic rationale, there's a middle-ground to be met in lieu of their ages. Although projecting his distraught and regret from his career onto Inori, who still has time to make up for starting off late, Tsukasa's genuine goodwill rekindles Inori's motivation and passion, who responds in turn, making for a heartwarming dynamic.
Although, Medalist is certainly not as psychological as I may have worded it. There's very much a large sports factor at work, which, again, is somewhat unorthodox in the sports genre. Knockout/round-robin style tournaments have always been a staple, working in as easy introductions to many important characters to serve as the protagonist's rivals/obstacles, ultimately an efficient character device while maintaining electrifying sport matches. While Medalist writes in many small regional tournaments, they have a slightly different nuance as a character device. Thus far, these "tournaments" are badge/rank tests (similar to boxing class matches) that measure an individual's abilities in solidarity in how they perform certain skill sets, as opposed to relative to other athletes in the form of matches and points. While point systems, trophy places and potential rivals appear progressively, the core of the tests are what both Inori and Tsukasa narrow in on. Although other athletes Inori's befriended serve as solid motivation and camaraderie, it's her own progress that she learns to measure herself by, rather than continuing by others, as both she and Tsukasa have for years.
Thematic and character writing aside, these badge tests display the kinetic energy of both ice-skating and Ikada Tsuruma's art. Comical and silly as the frequent chibi sketches are, Ikada's sense of anatomy is striking and flamboyant in depicting a plethora of different ice-skating poses and jumps. Although the paneling flow may be a bit ambitious at times, the flow of motion coincides with the poses, which appeals with interesting details instead of grandiose movements. Ikada often makes great use of screen-tones and gradience to accentuate certain movements or build up to the climaxing pose, in addition to easy-to-follow vector arcs. Just to reiterate myself once more, by God, the poses are fantastic. If this series ever sees the light of an anime adaptation, I pray that the key animators do them justice.
Although still newborn in plot development, Medalist gleams with tremendous potential. The dichotomy between its extremely young cast of characters and their strikingly mature internal conflicts quickly sets the narrative's foundation and continues to develop. Reminiscent of March comes in like a Lion and Blue Period, the series is primarily an exploration of fragile psyche bared against the sport's trials and tribulations. Just as the art frequently flip-flops between sloppily endearing chibi art and despairingly grim visage, the series is an accumulation of crestfallen anguish lifted up by heartwarming encouragement. Inori and Tsukasa's dynamic establishes itself on their shared agonies in the sport, but rather than licking their own wounds, they foster hope and change in one another against the orthodox of ice-skating.
Time is never at stand-still but it's for the individual to do something with the remaining time.
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