Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m delighted to announce we’re returning to the Monogatari franchise, the series that more or less began my journey as an anime critic. I’ve written about Monogatari for reddit, twitter, Crunchyroll, Anime News Network, and you folks here, and yet the series still manages to surprise me, offering fresh psychological insights and aesthetic flourishes after all these years.

It’s little surprise this series means so much to me. Monogatari embodies anime’s unique capacity to project our internal lives as ecstatic visual theater, combining a thorough exploration of human psychology with playful visual storytelling and Nisio Isin’s profound talents for thematically resonant drama and character voice. Monogatari’s characters feel both alive and compelling in a way few works of animation can match, and his insights regarding our ability to understand ourselves, each other, and the nature of a “life well lived” inspire me to seek such thematic richness and humanism in my own work.

Monogatari’s central narrative regarding the self-actualization of Koyomi Araragi has at this point concluded – though of course, as Nisio Isin is quick to assure us, everyone is a work in progress, everyone is “learning how to be happy” at their own pace. Nonetheless, Araragi’s resolution of his immediate psychological block, his long-time refusal to engage with his own self-destructive nature, has left the stage clear for Monogatari’s many other compelling characters to take the lead, and demonstrate the playfulness, compassion, and insight with which all of them have been brought to life. Let’s see what rambling adventures await in the off season!

Episode 1

There’s a self-aware joke even in this season’s title. Though it’s framed as a supplementary document, the fact that it’s also labeled the “Monster Season” implies a direct continuity with the franchise’s original “Monster Story” title, which in turn reminds us that in Monogatari, “monster” is simply a label attached to that which we fear or misunderstand, a title most of its protagonists have at one point or another applied to themselves. Thus the title naturally implies a sense of “don’t take this too seriously, but be warned it will all be on the test”

Many things have changed, but Monogatari’s ostentatious chapter break title cards remain. I recall how some episodes would actually flaunt the relative length of one adapted chapter versus another; one chapter would take half an episode, and then we’d spin rapidly through three more, offering a natural question of what was skipped or summarized. The conceit, like so much of Monogotari’s visual pageantry, echoes the show’s core themes: whatever we are seeing here is an interpretation, one perspective on what is important and what can be discarded. There is distance even between the consciousness of these characters as conveyed in the books versus in the show, and Monogatari wants you to know it

On a more immediate level, this conceit also emphasizes that these stories are people telling us about their own lives, fictionalized accounts complete with embellishments, ignorant of things the characters themselves would not notice or understand. That’s part of why Araragi’s world is so devoid of background characters – to the protagonists, such background characters are basically invisible, and thus play no part in their recounting of these events. Only the originally self-conscious Nadeko tended to notice all the eyes surrounding her

We open with an actual fried egg leading into a flock of bird outlines soaring upwards. The first shot is a welcome return to Tatsuya Oishi’s mixed media flourishes from the original Bakemonogatari, which set a standard for aesthetic invention that the show has only rarely met since. This shot also calls to mind Araragi’s sisters and their signature hair pieces, with the second clarifying that we’re focusing on Tsukihi, who is in truth a cuckoo bird-style aberration that took the place of his original sister. But as Nisemonogatari emphasized, that doesn’t make her any less true of a sister – our definitions are not stable, and we are ultimately what we spend our time attempting to be. “Authenticity” in the abstract has no inherent value

We learn this story is actually from Yotsugi’s perspective, as she’s still observing Tsukihi. Yotsugi has also been sculpted by experience – starting as a nearly emotionless apparition “doll,” she has become a member of the Araragi family, and likely Koyomi’s most trustworthy confidant. Monogatari admits that we are often broken; it comforts us not by lying and telling us we’re already fine, but by insisting that no one is a stable point, that we can all become new creations if we assess ourselves frankly and put in the work. We’ve already seen many of Monogatari’s heroes do precisely that; Hanekawa, Koyomi, and even Nadeko have come to acknowledge their worst instincts and attempt to grow beyond them

The production indulges in a bunch of bird-watching imagery as Yotsugi explains her mission. Also a sequence of many Tsukihis hung in a sort of crib mobile, with light cast through it creating shadows, emphasizing how Tsukihi is both caged and a reflection of an original

Monogatari’s dramatic style is really quite unique. At times it proceeds as a series of fancifully illustrated monologues, capturing attention through the richness of both text and imagery, rather than the need to know what happens next. This naturally pushes it towards being a love it or hate it production, depending on what precisely you come to anime for

“Of course you will see disruption if the aberration is close to the nexus.” This town being a supernatural lodestone is both text and metaphor, like most things here. It inspires the actual narrative drama, but also emphasizes how the closer we are to each other, the more we create disruptions and alter each other’s behavior and identity. To be close with others is to be changed

“You can’t flinch. You can’t show mercy.” These words contrasted against Yotsugi thoughtfully staring at Tsukihi imply a further degree of separation and artifice, between what Yotsugi is claiming she’s doing and what is actually happening as she spends time with Tsukihi. You can’t trust anything these characters say, and you can trust what they say about themselves least of all

“It can only be observed by an abominable, heartless monster that can annihilate its brilliant flight.” Yotsugi pushes the contrast further, daring us to agree with her self-description as she turns to face the camera directly

Koyomi is represented as a creepy, nefarious specter, only his shadow and hands visible as he drops off ice cream. It’s always fun seeing Koyomi as imagined by his long-suffering friends

“Pretending to be human is very important for humanoid apparitions like myself.” Once again calling back to Nise; “fundamental natures” are far less important than our practices, than the desires we put into action

Karen’s own room for high school is of course a dojo filled with punching bags. Reality is what we conceive it as; “objective truth” is a comforting fantasy

“My plushie is eating ice cream!” Welp, Tsukihi figured it out

“Hiding your identity and secretly freeloading with a family is the worst!” Yotsugi can’t help but point out the irony, when she should really reverse the point: if it’s okay for Tsukihi, it’s okay for Yotsugi, too

Tsukihi lets out her malevolent side a little, eventually resorting to setting Yotsugi on fire in order to provoke her into moving again. All of the Araragi family members are a little out there

Seeing one of these situations from the theoretical apparition’s side is also amusing – our characters often claim they were randomly cursed by apparitions, but the truth frequently turns out to be something closer to this, in that their apparitions were obviously, unavoidably provoked by their violent, selfish, or generally nearsighted behavior

Lots of fun flourishes of imagery here, like this heat signature map as the countdown nears its end

In the end, Yotsugi moves not to save herself, but to prevent Tsukihi from setting the damn house on fire. Much like her brother, Tsukihi’s indifference to her own fate is one of her greatest weapons

Loving these ornate backgrounds for Tsukihi’s room. Monogatari has not always been a top priority for Shaft, at times embracing minimalism more by necessity than choice, so it’s nice to see the franchise getting such lush background design again

Tsukihi unilaterally decides that Yotsugi is a magical girl, and of course we even get a Madoka Magica-style logo for her new adventures. Shaft are never above using Madoka for a cheap Monogatari gag; I recall there was a previous episode where Koyomi was framed as hanging out with a bunch of silhouettes in the shapes of the Madoka cast

“That’s fine. If you can’t say it in one sentence, say it in one hundred sentences.” An extremely Isin line

“For the first time in my life, I, Tsukihi, will listen to someone’s story seriously!” God, the whole Araragi family is so obnoxious. Love them

In spite of her monotone, Yotsugi swiftly gets caught up in Tsukihi’s magical girl framing. Not really a person you can read by tone

Of course, as a member of the Fire Sisters, Tsukihi cannot help but take part in this battle (against herself)

“I’ll show you that this world also has heroes of justice. And of course, I am justice itself!” This arc is doing a good job of emphasizing how quietly frightening Tsukihi is, as she’s previously demonstrated in interactions with both Koyomi and Nadeko. She has such a powerful gravitational pull that she’s essentially dragged Yotsugi into a new genre

“If you don’t want to be killed off, collaborate with me, Nadeko Sengoku.” Many Monogatari flights of fancy could likely power their own spin-off, and Magical Girl Yotsugi is a strong contender

As both Tsukihi’s closest friend and a veteran of several apparition encounters, Nadeko draws both connections immediately. She’s actually very quick on the uptake now that she’s not deluding herself, or at least productively channeling her delusions into her manga

“I want to help survivors like Koyomi and Nadeko. Though I’ll kill them if I have to.” Yotsugi is a bridge, suspended between the ruthless perspective of the previous generation of oddity slayers and Koyomi’s more empathetic, self-sacrificing approach. One of the many compelling frictions of Monogatari is that Koyomi’s fatal flaw actually was of great benefit to those around him, even though it eventually threatened to consume him. It is much easier to break a psychological habit that is blatantly, solely destructive; but for Koyomi, Hanekawa, and others, the poison that was killing them did indeed offer some tangible benefits and emotional relief

Nadeko as Arale, sure, why not

“Perhaps you should go to school again soon. You don’t need to worry. Nobody’s really concerned about you.” Extremely blunt words from Yotsugi, but well-aimed and well-intended. Nadeko spent her life performing for an assumed audience, being the cutesy empty-headed girl she assumed they wanted, having learned from her neglectful parents the easiest way to get along. Since she exploded at her classmates during Medusa, she’s understandably anxious about how they’ll treat her now – so Yotsugi offers her the frank, freeing “nobody really gives a shit.” Nobody at school cared about her much before, and they won’t care that much now; she need not feel paralyzed by the opinions of her classmates, because they’re all undoubtedly caught up in their own lives, and Nadeko now has a source of pride and identity in her manga, something true to her that is not granted or denied via the whims of outsiders

Ooh, love this layout of Nadeko’s life conceived as a series of manga panels. So nice to see this franchise in top creative form again

Also a neat trick of room design here too; Nadeko’s high windows and shelves of manga make it easy to present her room as a series of manga panels even without entirely diverging from reality

Yotsugi’s got a plan: pretend Nadeko’s current apparition is the monster she’s seeking, and defeat it in front of Tsukihi, thereby satisfying her need for a magical girl threat and ostensibly returning to being a lifeless doll. A perfectly circuitous solution to a problem she herself created

“To this date, I have never seen that unhealthy, unlucky man doing well.” Love our Kaiki

“I’m down to earth. The type that focuses only on the results.” Oshino tends to focus on putting his clients in the right frame of mind to directly confront their demons, and thereby exorcize them through their own will. Yotsugi is blunter – she’ll just blast the oddity directly, sometimes even if it means killing the host

“Why do I have to draw manga right now with a slug as a protagonist? That’s too innovative.” Nisio Isin is an absolute master of depicting our gradual evolution as people, conveying how we can change either naturally over time or through a willful decision to change ourselves, while acknowledging that such processes are incremental, and that we are still in large part the people we used to be. Nadeko is dedicated to her manga art now, but is primarily using that art as both vector for and commentary on the person she used to be, and very much does not want to see her past self as a slug

Once again, Nadeko’s irregularly stacked windows create a natural sense of manga paneling

“You don’t have to worry about the quality. It’s fine if you give me a rough sketch.” You think a beginning artist is going to listen to that, Yotsugi? She’s pouring her heart into everything she draws!

“You’re going to apply screentone, too?” This is likely the first time, save for Kaiki’s speech, that anyone has actually asked her to draw something. That it has been important that she be able to draw. No wonder she’s savoring it

“I’m very glad that this world is not such an easy place to live in.” Having lived her padded, insular life for fourteen years, Nadeko is embracing the long climbs and sharp corners of the actual world. It’s hard, but there’s a substance to it. Her victories are truly hers

“For my showdown, I chose the park that everyone is familiar with.” Yeah, we’ve been there a time or two

As Tsukihi carelessly brandishes a giant spear, Yotsugi wonders again why she is forced to keep tabs on this terrifying girl

Yotsugi of course requested salt to counter their surrogate slug opponent

This plan feels extremely reckless, though. It’s little surprise to me that this oversized episode is apparently followed by a Nadeko arc; using her current oddity as a decoy feels like it’ll cause more problems than it solves

Oh my gosh, I love Nadeko’s slug monster drawing

“This is a pretty good story for being an impromptu one.” Sure Yotsugi, great job

“An entitled life where everything goes your way would make you lose sight of whether you’re alive or simply dreaming.” It is conflict and struggle that defines us; without adversity to overcome, we are simply shapeless, amorphous blobs of vague, unsatisfying pleasures without the muscle density to walk our own path, or sculpt our own marvels

“That’s why you seek a purpose in life. You seek a suitable difficulty for your own life.” We have the privilege of choosing how much we want to push back against the world as it is, how high we want to climb, or how much we want to change about the world around us. There is no shame in picking small struggles, but without forward momentum of some kind, without a challenge to overcome, we collapse into listless, shapeless complacency. We become as helpless to choose our destiny as Nadeko once believed she was

“I trace over all the words, but it doesn’t strike a chord in my heart at all.” We’re actually getting a number of parallels with Hitagi End here; Yotsugi’s position feels much like Kaiki’s, clearly protesting too much regarding her distance from ordinary human emotion

As essentially a “zombie,” Yotsugi did actually live as a human once, though she cannot remember it

“I know that life is fleeting, and that there is nothing in death”

“I don’t want an eternal life. Even if it was limited, I want to fulfill my life as a human.” Yotsugi seemingly draws a comparison between Nadeko and Tsukihi, seeing the phoenix Tsukihi’s eternal life as similarly stagnant to Nadeko’s conception of a life without conflict, without struggle. If it is struggle and finality that give our efforts meaning, then is Tsukihi capable of living a meaningful life? Perhaps this is why Kiss-Shot struggled for so long as well, incapable of dying, and thus incapable of truly living

Yotsugi rightfully defines this perspective as “heroic narcissism.” Perhaps we see our deaths as meaningful only because we cannot fully let go of the idea that we are protagonists, and the idea that our deaths are heroic offers some consolation against the certainty of oblivion. Another reason I love Isin’s writing – he always stress-tests his ideas in the text itself, challenging pat, self-satisfying conclusions and seeking a deeper truth, blunt or unflattering as that truth may be

And then Nadeko’s giant slug rises over the park, complete with screentone and everything

Yotsugi’s counterattack is the first time the production offers those rapid flashes of title card thoughts that have become one of this production’s signatures, as this is the first time in the episode that Yotsugi has experienced anything approaching panic

“Why is her technique so unnecessarily skilled?” Unfortunately, Nadeko drew an extremely resilient fire-breathing slug

Another brief flourish of live-action photography for Yotsugi’s musings on tofu. It’s good to be back

“Is this what it means to get involved with Tsukihi Araragi?” No, you just constructed an extremely bad plan, Yotsugi

Just like her brother, Tsukihi rushes to push Yotsugi out of harm’s way with no thought to her own safety. Of course, also like him, she can sorta get away with it

“As a corpse, I won’t cause any trouble in the future. I have fulfilled my baseline duties as a spy.” Seemingly nearing her own death, Yotsugi’s thoughts become more frank, no longer reflected through the comforting, distancing mirrors of characters like Tsukihi or Nadeko. What was Yotsugi’s life worth, and can she feel happy about it now ending? The best she can come up with is “I did my duty the best I could, and I wasn’t a bother to anyone”

“However, this is nothing more than a calm conclusion, and not my own feelings.” And driven to this brink, she at last admits that she has feelings, that she is not a doll, and that simply fulfilling her orders could never make her happy

As she gracelessly flees, hoping to save her allegedly meaningless yet precious life, she is rescued by our friendly local god Mayoi

She reminds Yotsugi that this slug was actually no more than a piece of paper. It was Yotsugi who’d gotten caught in this dream of magical girl heroism, Yotsugi who wanted her life to be more than a series of duties and errands. Yotsugi’s dream of a greater life, a life with the sort of challenge and texture that Nadeko described, was so fervent that it almost got her killed

“I couldn’t dismiss the crisis befalling this town, or the crisis facing my friend.” Life demands struggle, but you should always be willing to accept a helping hand

Yotsugi is ultimately saved by Tsukihi’s apparent inability to accumulate trauma – such difficult memories are washed away by the phoenix, alongside her knowledge of Yotsugi’s true nature

Even as she describes Tsukihi’s terrifying ability to remain spotless both physically and emotionally in spite of the chaos she invokes, Yotsugi is primarily constructing an excuse to stay with her, to continue observation

But then she repeats the same damn mistake, both proving her humanity and restarting the cycle of struggle. Well, that’s what it means to be alive, Yotsugi

And Done

Ah, it’s so good to be back! It’s also quite nice to get such a focused Yotsugi drama, where we can dive into her insecurities regarding purpose and personhood in her extremely Yotsugi way. Both Nadeko and Tsukihi served as distorted mirrors for Yotsugi here, her own feelings made clear only in the way she exaggerated her description of the people around her. Yotsugi clearly saw Tsukihi as something close to herself, a monstrous oddity incapable of full human expression, while Nadeko embodied everything about humanity’s desire for struggle and a happier self-definition that she not-so-secretly craved for herself. Thus Yotsugi’s final verdict applies to both Tsukihi and Yotsugi herself, declaring both worthy of continued existence, even if they’re don’t exist within the harsh temporal limits of an ordinary human like Nadeko – a conclusion that was likely spurred on by the appearance of Mayoi, who’s similarly embraced the fantastical variation on human life that’s been afforded to her. A check-in arc that simultaneously explored and contrasted four key members of Monogatari’s “next generation” – just the sort of graceful, thoughtful madness I’ve come to expect from this wonderful franchise.

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