SHOSHIMIN: How to Become Ordinary

Shoshimin: How to Become Ordinary does not start with fanfare and a display of splendor but with restraint a story which draws you into the minds of two teens looking into oblivion to become ordinary. Based on a novel by Honobu Yonezawa (who wrote Hyouka), the series is a slice-of-life-mystery with a slight air of teen-identity-crisis. Instead of concentrating on dramatic twists or over-the-top hijinx, it plays into the quieter suspense of normal living: the pressure to fit in, the price to pay to be unmitigated, and the complex wish to just be normal. It does not necessarily close the door on a high note, Shoshimin is nevertheless new and frequently insightful approach to a coming of age story.

This is the story of two high schoolers, Kaboku JŌgoro, and Yuki Osanai, who have a deal, to spend their youth as shoshimin, and ordinary citizens. They pretend to be non-threatening, they want to be obscure, be unseen, become invisible, just to be non-obtrusive. Of course, things don not work out as such. The two get along with things that keep landing them in some weird situations that both Kaboku and his deductive mind and Osanai and his coded knowledge come in handy.

The best part of the story is the atmosphere of “Shoshimin”. It almost shares with the earlier Hyouka in creating this quiet and at the same time emotionally charged world where the mysteries are not grand or life-threatening but rather very human. These are not whodunits, dealing with murder, but close-up puzzles, with a background of social friction, or adolescent unease, or even deviousness and manipulation. That makes the series realistic. It does not make any noise, not yelling like a mad being about being brilliant.

Kaboku, a misguided supergenius of the past, who has attempted to leave his days as a deduction monster behind, is a strong lead. One of the strongest themes of the show is his inner struggle concerning what to be normal and what to dig deeper. Osanai is more mysterious in his turn. Sometimes she is underdeveloped, with her reasonability covered in a cloud of unresolved mystery left unexplained by the series. The actors are in a state of repressed emotion, awkward tension and understated chemistry, which makes their relationship interesting to watch even when the plot draws to a slow.

Art and animation, with Studio Lapintrack offering it, are satisfactory. Not being particularly spectacular, the gentle character animation of expressive ability and the presence of enough visual metaphors touch key moments. The backgrounds are soft and sometimes pastel toned, which accompanies the low-key mood of the series. The tone restrained in its political leanings, never taking excessive stylistic liberties, is a big advantage of the show that might strain at times to be too dry or bland.

It is at the pacing where there are viewers that Shoshimin may be losing. The secrets are revealed leisurely, almost lazily. This will be a good change with those who like a bit of slow-burn character work. However, it may seem disappointingly unspectacular to anyone who goes in hoping to see some exciting twists or edge-of-your-seat storytelling. Other episodes tend to digress, and not all mysteries leave the feeling of completeness in their resolution.

On a thematic level, the show is an insightful reflection on the theme of adolescence, identity and pressure. The concept of denying own possibility to belong into a place is intriguing even more so in a high school environment, where the pressure to meet particular expectations is usually externally contributed. The conflict of Kaboku is the symptom of a wider sense of fear of many talented persons who desperately want to be normal at the expense of self-denial. The show gives the following notion: Does being an ordinary person bring peace or is it a self-imposed prison?

Still, there are some stones the series fails to turn. Some of the character arcs (particularly that of Osanai) are left incomplete and the philosophical nature of the show, although interesting, can present as undeveloped or far too ambiguous in the end. It seems like Shoshimin is being set up to something, an emotional or character payoff of some kind, and it never quite gets there.

Shoshimin: How to Become Ordinary is a relatively subdued, meditative sequence that cares little about the eye-candy and most about the sublte notes. Not all viewers will enjoy it, of course: it moves slowly and deals in muted mysteries, which will prove dull to those looking for the high drama or breakneck plotting. However, it is an emotionally rich and intelligent experience to the audiences that are attracted by the films who thrive in character-driven stories that investigate the conflict between individuality and conformity. It does not quite achieve everything it sets thematically, but it makes for an absorbing, contemplative and subtly touching voyage.