This review contains very abstract spoilers; however, there will be concrete plot details referenced later on that are direct spoilers, but they are all labeled.
Kyoto Animation’s reputation should come as no surprise to many anime fans, and likewise it would be no exaggeration for me to say that Kyoto Animation's works have shaped me into the anime fan I am today. The unbridled sincerity and joy of youth depicted in Tamako and K-On!, the tribulations and triumphs of life showcased in Clannad: After Story, that tangible desire to belong in spite of their broken selves highlighted in Violet Evergarden, and of course the incredibly subtle yet simultaneously loud themes of love and regret all unpacked in Liz and the Blue Bird: beyond the extensive variety of characters and stories in all kinds of shapes and sizes, whether it makes us laugh, smile, or even cry, there’s always that special “spark” in KyoAni’s impressive catalog, something so profoundly intimate in each and every one of their works that can’t help but to inspire such deep emotions in us, the viewer. Indeed, it’s this kind of gravitas that elevates some of their works over countless others as my personal favorites, and without going off on too much of a tangent, it’s this gravitas, that special something, that allows me to say, unequivocally so, that Hibike! Euphonium shaped my life.
Hibike! Euphonium is, as its core, a highschool music melodrama, and as such its narrative and characters reflect that. For starters, Kumiko Oumae, our main protagonist, is your average, absent-minded highschool girl with nothing too exciting seemingly going for her, much unlike many other types of protagonists seen in other anime. She starts off the series awkward and indecisive, contemplating what is seemingly even the most trivial of choices. She’s complacent with herself, and doesn’t strive for any more, a stark contrast to an individual like Reina, who cries in utter shock and anguish as they fail to advance in their final middle school competition. She confides in only herself all of her personal problems, always afraid to put herself due to any possible confrontation, and rarely did she ever try and go against the norm, usually accepting what is the hive mind. In fact, she only chose to play the euphonium again because no one else wanted to and she felt pressured to do so. And unlike Reina, Kumiko was content in just doing that, playing the euphonium without so much as setting a goal for herself, as she was fearful of committing herself in the first place.
But of course, it would not be so much a story had Kumiko remained so stagnant. In what was at first a one-sided relationship, Kumiko placed Reina on an internal pedestal because Reina is someone special, someone that Kumiko subconsciously aspired to be. Reina is someone with pure, innate talent, someone who, without overstatement, is quite literally destined for greatness. Reina’s almost dazzling resolve is what starts to drive Kumiko out of her comfort zone, to venture for something more. It's her excellence that taught Kumiko to strive for that same sort of excellence and likewise be dejected by failure. As shown in the bridge scene in season 1, she cries out about how she wants to improve and be better than everyone—it's unmistakable that she loves the euphonium now. She wants greater things, she wants to become more, she wants to win gold at Nationals: she finally has that yearning for more that allows her to devote her all to music, and likewise she can empathize with how frustrated Reina felt back at the middle school competition, that feeling of anguish so prominent it kills you inside.
Hibike! Euphonium, along with many other KyoAni works, stresses the importance of having the ability to embrace one another when times get tough, of being able to come together in spite of it all. Just as how Kumiko herself feels so sympathetic, the series' cast, true to life and with all of their own trepidations, feel equally as authentic. Whether it be Reina and her pursuit of greatness, Asuka and her inner grapples with her personal life and desire to play, Mizore with her introversion and her longing to play for the one she loves, Mamiko with the heightened expectation as the older, adult sister, Mayu and her loneliness and earnest desire to connect with others, or Kanade and her admiration for Kumiko and her desire to perform with her senpai, each and every character has their own personal struggles and motivators that allow them to walk the path they did, and likewise support Kumiko as she traverses down her own path. The love for music, the love for competition, the love for each other, and most of all, the love for your own self: seeing all of these people, branching from different backgrounds, come together in spite of their differences is legitimately so beautiful and motivating to me, and Kumiko’s own journey would not have been possible had it not been for the people that supported her all the way through.
This next stretch will contain concrete spoilers:
Spoiler, click to view
Season 3 is the culmination of all of the interpersonal drama, relationships, character arcs, philosophies, and motivations built up over this season’s predecessors. It revists many of the themes present in the first two seasons and entwines them in season 3’s own narrative. The directing is somewhat different from the earlier installments, utilizing more close-ups and dynamic lighting rather than the wider framing and showcasing of body language used in previous seasons (Naoko Yamada’s departure is surely felt), but it’s still excellent.Reina has remained unwavering in her goal, but Kumiko on the other hand doesn’t know how she wants to take the next step in her life. Simultaneously confronting the unfavorable atmosphere that permeate the band as president, she wrestles with the thought of entering a music university and whether that is truly what she wants. Over the course of the season however, it becomes more and more evident that music university is something that is not befitting of Kumiko. Of course, she loves music, dearly so, but that doesn’t entail music university being a necessary path. There is so much more than a singular path in life, and we’ve seen Kumiko grow and develop in other facets than just music. As Mizore bluntly put it: “I can’t imagine you here”—she can sense Kumiko's hesitance in committing to music in the same capacity as her or Reina (but of course, Kumiko has dedicated much of her life to music, hence her noncommitment). On the other hand, we've seen Kumiko time and time again be more than a capable leader, essentially holding together the band as it was about to burst. She plays the part of a beacon of guidance and support for others in the band, someone who is proactive in addressing her fellow band members' grievances as shown in episode 3 with Sari. The Kumiko at the start of the series would never have involved herself in these types of conflicts, but that is proof of her heartfelt devotion in maintaining the well-being of all her band members and a showcase of her change into a more driven, dedicated leader.
Spoiler, click to view
And to address a slightly controversial decision made in episode 12, if you found that change deplorable and thought that it “bastardized” the original, or you thought that Kumiko should’ve won the soli and it made everything meaningless, then I’m sincerely sorry to hear that. Of course, no single interpretation is more valid than the other, and if this ruined the season for you then you have the complete right to feel that way and I mean no disrespect to those that do.That being said, I personally believe that viewing episode 12 in that light is a rather insular way of thinking and overlooks all of Kumiko’s meaningful growth she’s undergone over the entire series. Of course, it’s frustrating, immensely so, and it was heart-wrenching to see Kumiko so upset about it. Never in a million years could I have predicted Mayu winning over Kumiko (especially in the way that it had happened), and as saccharine as it may be, I really did foresee Kumiko winning for the final soli piece. However, losing that single achievement does not, in any capacity, outweigh any of the lessons she's learned and the experiences she's gained. For the entire season, we've seen Kumiko constantly reinforce her resolve in the idea that Kitauji is a meritocracy, so Kumiko losing the soli serves a test for her, putting her beliefs in direct conflict with her own desires. But rather than indulging in any of her self-admittedly selfish wants, Kumiko, in lieu of all the emotions bubbling inside of her. is still able to lead altruistically and be proud of herself in a brilliant display of character—THAT is indisputable proof of Kumiko's maturity over her three years in high school and brings real closure to Kumiko's character. After all, the goal isn't the soli, it's winning gold at the National competition, and Kumiko losing the soli does not trivialize the entire band's efforts in getting this far and what winning gold represents for the band. It’s the final antithesis to the Kumiko of the beginning of the series, seeing her cry over losing the soli position and still be able to accept everything with such conviction when the early freshman Kumiko probably would’ve brushed it off and kept it to herself.
And naturally, this is not to undermine Reina’s role in this matter. Of course, Reina loves her best friend and sincerely desires to play together with Kumiko, but as Kumiko mentioned earlier, Reina will not change herself for Kumiko and as such chose the performance she thought to be a better fit for the soli, illustrating her unwavering devotion in being the best. She could not choose Kumiko when Reina herself does not have utmost confidence in that decision, and choosing Kumiko when she is so uncertain would be akin to lying and desecrating what they mutually believe in, and seeing someone of Reina’s stature completely break down and wail is a testament to how transcendent their bond has become. The prospect of separation is a key theme that is exemplified in this season, as Reina time and time again urges Kumiko to follow the same path as her in fear of losing her friend. But just because Kumiko and Reina's paths aren't one and the same does not mean their connection has to be severed—just as Mizore and Nozomi let go of one another in Liz and the Blue Bird but still walk alongside one another, that same sentiment is paralleled in the relationship between Kumiko and Reina as they'll always share their bond with each other even as life continues to drift them apart.
The result of the final soli audition goes full-circle with the themes of Hibike! Euphonium as a whole, remaining true and providing closure to both Kumiko and Reina's individual character arcs. Kumiko learned and achieved many things, so much more than what a single soli can represent. I believe the greater implications for Kumiko’s character in losing the soli are so much bigger than if she had won it. The experiences Kumiko has gone through and the lessons she's learned as president are far more valuable than whatever she would have gained from playing the soli. Months and years after the National performance and it will be all but a memory to her, but the important life lessons as a leader will remain with her for the rest of her life. Ultimately, she remained true to herself and kept her best attitude even after losing, and even if she rightfully regrets losing to Mayu, she wants to be proud of what she's done and the effort she's put in.
To me, this season is the one where all of Kumiko's astounding qualities are accentuated and brought to life; moreover, it's the season that finally registered to me just how special Kumiko is as a character to me. In my own viewpoint, Kumiko is a true protagonist in every sense of the word: still as awkward and clumsy as ever, but more dedicated and compassionate than ever before. Her transformation from a passive, directionless individual with no purpose to a confident leader brimming with heart and determination is not only heartfelt but also deeply inspiring, and very few protagonists, if any, resonated with me in the same way Kumiko did. Kumiko is not someone that is special in a traditional sense, especially compared to individuals like Reina (the series makes that abundantly clear). But just as every other character has their own personal paths to follow, Kumiko has her own distinctive path to take as well. It doesn’t make you any more or less exceptional than anyone else if someone has a seemingly “grander” path, it just means that there are a multitude of different paths you can take and it’s something we as humans must find for ourselves. In short, Kumiko, supported by the people that had their own, unique share of ideals and motivations, found the resolve to live by her own ideals—ultimately, she’s grown, she’s become more mature, and most of all, she’s become resolute in the path she wants to take in her life.
Afterword & Personal Note
Throughout the majority of my life, I didn’t really have a sense of direction in what I wanted to do, systematically going through the same mechanisms that my peers around me did. I went to university because, well, that’s what everyone around me did, and I initially chose the major I did because, again, it created the most avenues for a seemingly good career and future and it’s what many people around me did. Just as when Kumiko abstained from the vote to compete for Nationals at the start of the series, I also hesitated in myself and just followed what was the most common path, reluctant to decide on what I really wanted in my future.
Consequently, seeing Kumiko herself make that impossible leap and find her passion, whether it be music or something else, is so deeply inspiring. In part thanks to Tomoyo Kurosawa's absolutely marvelous voice acting performance, the sheer relatability is why I can connect with Kumiko so much: when Kumiko is overjoyed, I’m overjoyed. When Kumiko is sad, I’m sad. When Kumiko cries, I can’t help but to tear up, and whenever she makes a realization, I empathize with that as well. Ultimately, it’s Kumiko’s growth and unwavering dedication in spite of her struggles that elicits such strong, personal emotions in me. Just as how Kumiko changed and found her purpose despite the unknowns, I myself strive to live without any regrets, find my own path in life, and discover the things that are uniquely meaningful to me. Even now I’m still not absolutely set on where I want to take my life, but, as silly as it may sound, Kumiko’s journey inspires me to take that next step in discovering that passion. To me, Hibike! Euphonium was a truly euphoric, such a profoundly life-changing performance. Even if I one day grow out of watching anime or reading manga, I will never ever forget the influence that a "mere" highschool girl and a fictitious band narrative had on me. So thank you Ayano Takeda, and thank you Kyoto Animation for creating such an affectionately one of a kind piece that evokes such genuinely overwhelming emotions and inspires me to look onwards in my life.
___ そして、次の曲が始まるAnd so, the next piece begins
And so, the next piece begins
