Rarely music in anime is held to the same esteem as the other factors that make an anime an anime. Rather, it settles into the ambient background music that quickly evaporates into a vague memory after the last ending plays. For many anime watchers, the exception to this is the work of Shinichiro Watanabe. Since his first full directorial venture with Cowboy Bebop, Watanabe carved a niche for himself by innovating flashy animation and compelling stories with innovative musical direction. In Samurai Champloo, the addition of hip-hop and lo-fi beats flows with the atmosphere and movements of the characters. in Terror and Resonance used this Sigur Rós/We Lost the Sea blend of post-rock to bolster the atmosphere of a darker story. Carole and Tuesday presented this grand opportunity to elevate this symbiotic relationship between music and animation Watanabe appears to strive for. The result, however, was a mixed bag.

First and foremost, the vocalists and musicians cast are phenomenal. I would be astounded to see another show come close to attaining this level of talent in the near future. However, music is an exhaustive endeavor. Those who write songs insert trying periods of their life into a short passage and relive it with each performance. These parts also happen to be the most organic and make for awe-inspiring pieces. The songs that follow this structure in Carole and Tuesday are beautiful. It should be easy for someone to compose a song titled "Loneliest Girl" because everyone can pinpoint a specific moment where they felt lonely. The first song in Carole and Tuesday is "Loneliest Girl" and it is stellar. However, what if you are a lonely girl and you're asked to compose a tasteful rap song about politics and immigrants? Any poignant message falls into a lack of perspective and emotional drive. This show provides a spectrum of these types, ranging from incredible catchy tunes and somber ballads to kitschy genre pulls and trite song structures. Fortunately, most fall under the former and the latter never stay long enough to truly take away from an episode.

Much like the rap song analogy, writers often struggle to place themselves, and the viewer, into the lives and the environments they created. This was the major downfall of Carole and Tuesday. From the first instance of the characters appearing on screen, they were saying generic matter-of-fact lines that reiterate the visual cues in the scene. Points where the characters express themselves often come across as shallow, eventually leaving the viewer with nothing but a storyline to drive any depth into the main cast. The major developments are relegated to one episode bursts that are forgotten entirely after the 24-minute mark, leaving us with sparse puddles of trials to drive emotion out of characters. Once that next opening hits though, they are back to normal without a second thought.

Beyond the main cast, the minor characters feel disposable, rarely serving any need to steer the story. In some instances, multiple supporting characters serve the same function ten episodes apart to gently remind the audience of why the protagonists are the protagonists. The upside is some are also talented singers who give the viewers a catchy insert for 90 seconds before fading away forever.

Looking nowhere but up from the script and character composition, the premise itself is a husk of what it sets out to be. The story takes place on Mars, but there is no reason why. Its only objective is to act as a surrogate to a country while also sometimes reminding the audience that the show takes place in the future when robots are not on screen. Additionally, the Mars depicted in Carole and Tuesday has no identifiable characteristics nor known unique cultural discrepancies.

The denouement attempted to capitalize on the Mars/Earth relationship but never fully fleshed out the concept. Music is meant to be the savior, but outside of the people in the show liking music, it does not interact with the other plotline that develops. The conclusion this show builds up never fully intersects with the antics of our protagonists.

What helped tie everything together was the quality of the animation. The vapid characters spouting vapid lines still had expressions that breathed life in the world. There were hyper characters who were always moving. There were mellow characters who were always vibing. Each character was animated in a way that was catered to that specific character, reminiscent of the unique fighting styles in Samurai Champloo. Additionally, they were surrounded by a world that never failed to complement the substance of the scene (minus the fact it was randomly on another planet). Most scenes were drenched in warm tones as we saw two girls become friends. Lighting was utilized quite well to emphasize characters. The comedic ones got an array of neon purples and pinks and greens while the elegant ones got bright angelic yellows. The animation never completely covered up the writing issues and pacing, but it created something that grabbed my attention episode after episode.

This project almost felt too big to fail. Backed by Netflix and with Watanabe’s name attached, they had the funds to give the audience one of the most appealing music and animation projects in recent memory. They cast some of my favorite voice actors and some of the most talented singers with an incredible studio to bring Carole and Tuesday to life. However, it failed to deliver a compelling story, forcing the viewer to cling to two catchy songs per episode and some wild single-episode storylines. The project itself felt inorganic and artificial, a harsh foil to the main theme of genuine, organic expression.