The Future of Anime Is Female: ‘Yuri!!! On Ice’s Director Sayo Yamamoto

Thankfully, this hasn’t stopped animator/director Sayo Yamamoto from not only surviving over the past two decades — but thriving. And in style. Like Attack on Titan, Yamamoto’s ‘Yuri!!! On Ice’ has become a breakout hit, and amazingly, it’s only her third time as a series director. … Yamamoto’s success as a woman director shouldn’t be the exception to the rule in the anime industry.

Yuri!!! On Ice

This guest post written by Hannah Collins appears as part of our theme week on Women Directors.


The meteoric global success of Mokoto Shinkai’s feature-length anime, Your Name, coupled with recent news that anime streaming service, Crunchyroll, now has over 1 million subscribers, might lead most to believe that the anime machine is chugging along nicely at the moment. The reality is unfortunately very different for those doing all the hard work to keep that machine churning to meet rabid fan demand. These success stories punctuate a general aura of “doom and gloom” that has hung over the Japanese animation industry for several years now. The workload is unreasonably high, the pay is unreasonably low, and intense pressure to succeed has even proved fatal for some.

Industry legend and beloved grandfather of anime, Hayao Miyazaki, isn’t known for his sunny disposition at the best of times in regards to the future of his trade, made all the more evident by this tweet in 2011. Surprise, surprise — the “end times” for a male-dominated field are apparently signaled by women trying to muscle their way in. Miyazaki wrote:

“They say it’s over for animation in Japan. When we look for new hires only women respond, and I get the feeling that we’re done for. In our last hurrah we borrow from outside staff (i.e. outsource), but soon we won’t be able to do that forever.”

Considering his championing of strong-willed, independent heroines throughout his body of work, this statement was all the more disheartening. Working in such a toxic environment is tough enough, but for Japan’s female population, who still earn up to 30% less than their male counterparts (60% less for working mothers) and are now even labeled as symptoms of its stagnation by male industry leaders, the odds are doubly stacked against them to survive.

Michiko to Hatchin

Thankfully, this hasn’t stopped animator/director Sayo Yamamoto from not only surviving over the past two decades — but thriving. And in style. Like Attack on Titan, Yamamoto’s Yuri!!! On Ice has become a breakout hit, and amazingly, it’s only her third time as a series director. For those who’ve only dipped their toe into the weird and wonderful world of “Japanimation,” her name might not ring any bells, but the shows and films she’s worked on prior to Yuri!!! On Ice most likely will. Beginning with CLAMP’s “X” in 2001, Yamamoto has storyboarded and/or directed episodes of some of the most popular shows of the past decade, including Space Dandy, Psycho-Pass, Highschool of the Dead, Gunslinger Girl, Eureka Seven, Death Note, Ergo Proxy and Attack On Titan, as well as films Redline and Neon Genesis Evangelion: 2.0 You Can (Not) Advance.

In 2004, she got her first big break as a director, helming several episodes of Samurai Champloo under the tutelage of the legendary Shinichiro Watanabe (Cowboy Bebop), an experience that would prove to be hugely influential on her. In the screencaps below, you can see her playful experiments with different styles developing through her work.

Sayo Yamamoto work

Fast-forward four years, Yamamoto is given her next even bigger break: an opportunity to direct a whole series. This was 2008’s Michiko & Hatchin, an action-packed, crime-caper across a Brazilian-inspired land that saw the young and sheltered, Michiko, team up with the dangerous and sultry, Hana, in search of a missing man from their pasts.

Though the series was sadly financially unsuccessful, it garnered enough praise for Yamamoto to be offered another series in 2012, commemorating the 40th anniversary of Lupin III. Never one to follow expectation, Yamamoto opted to craft an origin story, not around the eponymous gentleman thief, but around his love interest and rival, Fujiko Mine, instead. This became the cult series, The Woman Called Fujiko Mine. Similarly to Michiko & Hatchin, Yamamoto was given full creative freedom, allowing her bold, pop art-inflected visuals and thematic fixations — feminine sensuality, comedy, multiculturalism and complex, queer relationships — to begin to blossom.

Yamamoto’s continuing exploration of eroticism through a female gaze is particularly important within a medium infamous for leering “panty shots” and unwanted groping being normalized and excused as “fan service,” with too many female characters swinging between either hypersexualisation or infantilization. During an AnimeFest panel in 2012, Yamamoto made no secret of what attracted her to Fujiko Mine as a character:

“In almost every chapter or episode [of ‘Lupin’] there were some sort of naked female somewhere in there. I felt that the recent TV series animation was really aimed at kids, made intentionally with kids in mind. So I wanted to go back in history and bring back the original manga, how I felt it was intended to be entertaining to adults. […] When I was growing up watching Fujiko in the original series of ‘Lupin’, I always watched her with anticipation of when she was going to take off her clothes.”

The key word here is “adult.” Sexual content alone is not the problem; it’s the context and tenor of that content. Too often in anime and manga, sexuality and “ecchi” humor fixate on teenage characters with a similarly teenage sensibility. Yamamoto, however, crafts stories about adults for adults, with a suitably mature and artful understanding of the power and mystique of sensuality — both heterosexual and queer.

Woman Called Fujiko Mine

Considering Yamamoto’s female-focused track record, directing a series like Yuri!!! On Ice — a show about professional male ice skaters — seemed like an odd move. But, despite men taking center-stage, Yamamoto was characteristically careful not to underrepresent women throughout the series. Also, considering the show falls into the shonen-ai or “Boys Love” (BL) genre (stories about queer male relationships created by and for women) a woman director and storyboarder (Mitsurou Kubo) team was also a logical move. As fans of BL stories like myself know, the genre has long been plagued by problems of the kind of festishization that always seems to sadly come part and parcel of hetero-appropriation of LGBTQ stories. But in the hands of Yamamoto and Kubo, Yuri!!! On Ice thankfully dodges most of this, managing instead to channel Yamamoto’s skillful handling of comedy and adult eroticism into protagonist Yuri Katsuki’s journey of self-discovery with complexity and sensitivity. Aside from the dazzlingly choreographed skating, it’s this competent handling that’s been key to enthralling the show’s fans.

Episode three is particularly pivotal in Yuri’s journey, as he is challenged by his skating idol, Victor Nikiforov, to perform a program titled, “On Love: Eros.” To tackle his severe lack of confidence in his ability to channel the “eroticism” needed for the routine, Yuri imagines a story about an 18th century “playboy,” which Yamamoto and Kubo animate beautifully using a sketchy, shadow-puppet technique to accentuate the fairy tale aspect of the story.

Reflecting upon the narrative he created, Yuri begins to realize that he identifies with both the feminine and masculine characters, a revelation that empowers him both on and off the rink. During his first performance, he compares himself to a “woman” skater and makes the suave and handsome Victor the object of his seducing. The costume Yuri chooses to wear during competitions visually reinforces all this — a replica of one that Victor once wore, incorporating both masculine and feminine elements into its design with a half-skirt layered over the trousers.

Yuri On Ice

Yamamoto’s success as a woman director shouldn’t be the exception to the rule in the anime industry. A report from the Women in Animation (WIA) board formed by The Animation Guild found that a staggering 84% of roles in animation were taken by men and 16% by women in 2006. By 2015, this ratio had shifted slightly to 80% men and 20% women, with just 10% of animation directors/producers being women. Though these figures come from American studios, a comment made by Yamamoto during AnimeFest seemed to corroborate a similar — or worse — gender imbalance in Japan:

“At the time that I started work on ‘Michiko & Hatchin’ [in 2008] there were only about 5 female directors. But as I moved on to ‘Lupin’, I do feel the female influence on the industry is definitely increasing and growing.”

Her optimism is shared by Naoko Yamada (A Silent Voice) who is currently the youngest female director of feature-length anime. In a recent interview, Yamada shared this advice to women hoping to beat the considerable odds stacked against them:

There’s no limit in a creative industry, so just look at what you like and create and make what you like to create and just be passionate about it.”

The immense popularity of Yuri!!! On Ice and the positive reception of Yamada’s A Silent Voice proves that Miyazaki’s fears are completely misplaced. Female directors and animators are not symptomatic of the anime industry’s failings. Rather — if given enough opportunity, encouragement and fairer wages — they could instead be the driving force behind its salvation.


See also at Bitch Flicks:

Michiko to Hatchin: Anime’s Newest Mom Has Some Issues


Hannah Collins is a London-born writer and illustrator fascinated by the intersection between pop/visual culture and feminism. On the blogging scene, Hannah has attracted over 1 million readers to her blog on gender representation in pop culture. By day, she is currently a freelance illustrator for children’s books and comics, and by night (and any other available hour) she contributes to the Cosmic Anvil and Fanny Pack blogs, as well as her own.

‘Michiko to Hatchin’: Anime’s Newest Mom Has Some Issues

Throughout the course of the 22-episode series, Michiko abandons Hatchin to get laid, lets Hatchin work a part-time job rather than pay for shoes she herself stole, leaves Hatchin with an abusive orphanage (more on that in a second), lets her run away half a dozen times, all while the two bicker constantly about often incredibly petty matters. All of this rolls up to establish that Michiko is, well, basically just a terrible, terrible mom.
And that’s pretty amazing.

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This guest post by Robert V. Aldrich appears as part of our theme week on Bad Mothers.


**Includes extremely mild spoilers**

Michiko is a terrible, terrible mom.

The face of a good mother?
The face of a good mother?

 

In 2008’s Michiko to Hatchin, brought to us by Studio Manglobe and directed by Sayo Yamamoto, we see Michiko Malandro (voiced by Yoko Maki or Monica Rial, depending on the original or English dubbing) break out of prison and liberate her daughter, Hatchin Morenos (voiced by Suzuka Ohgo or Jade Saxton) from an abusive foster family, and subsequently take her daughter on a whirlwind trip around a South American nation that’s totally not Brazil. Sounds like pretty good mom, right?

Yeah, no. See, for starters, Hatchin’s name is actually Hana. Michiko just calls her Hatchin because it seems more fitting. And she isn’t taking Hatchin on this “tour” of South America; she’s on the run from the police (remember the part of her breaking out of prison?). And she isn’t quite so much reuniting her family as she is trying to track down clues to find Hatchin’s allegedly dead father, Hiroshi.

But at least Michiko rescues Hatchin, right? Well, yes, she does do that. But that’s about all she really does for Hatchin. And, again, it’s more because Hatchin might have a clue or two about Hiroshi’s whereabouts. Throughout the course of the 22-episode series, Michiko abandons Hatchin to get laid, lets Hatchin work a part-time job rather than pay for shoes she herself stole, leaves Hatchin with an abusive orphanage (more on that in a second), lets her run away half a dozen times, all while the two bicker constantly about often incredibly petty matters. All of this rolls up to establish that Michiko is, well, basically just a terrible, terrible mom.

Seriously, this is like half the show.
Seriously, this is like half the show.

 

And that’s pretty amazing.

Why? Because mothers in anime are usually perfect. Like their fairy tale counterparts, mothers are (with a few very rare exception) saintly figures capable of doing no wrong. The matrons of anime families are often paragons of the traditional Japanese ideal; dedicated homemakers who are happy to don the apron and attend to the culinary and domestic responsibilities of husband and child. Examples include Trisha Elric from Full Metal Alchemist, Ikuko Tsukino (Serena/Usagi’s mother) from Sailor Moon, and even Mom Racer (from Speed Racer), and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Other characters in anime can be louts but when maternity is concerned, there’s rarely much messing around.

We see atypical examples of course, such as Yui Ikari from Evangelion, who instead of being a homemaker is a brilliant and innovative scientist but whose primary if not sole motivation is to make a better world for her son, Shinji. We see Chi-chi from Dragon Ball Z, who is a ferocious fighter but still the doting housewife. We also see evidence of the strong maternal instinct in non-mother characters, such as the career military woman Lisa Hayes in Robotech/Macross, who adopts a maternal role to Rick Hunter/Hikaru Ichijyo), despite the personal and romantic tension between them.

The anime genre is positively lousy with iconic mothers whom fill the role either perfectly or cleverly. Still, one constant in all of anime is that the role of the mother is filled as near-perfect: in deed or at least intention.

Except Michiko. She’s terrible.

There’s a theme developing here, you may have noticed.
There’s a theme developing here, you may have noticed.

 

Mothering is hard and not every woman takes to it naturally, even when they’ve hoped to be mothers their entire lives. Check out this clip from Scrubs or episode 11 from the third season of House of Cards (where the campaigning Claire Underwood talks to the lonely mother and wife) just for a few examples in fiction. And yet in anime (like much of art), mothers are often depicted as flawless in their pursuit and intentions, if not results as well. The idea of a woman who isn’t naturally inclined towards maternity, if not automatically great at it, is almost alien and so rare as to be almost be unheard of. Thus art isn’t always imitating life.

Michiko, as outlandish and flamboyant as she is (we first meet her when she drives a motorcycle through a window onto a dinner table), might be one of the most realistic depictions of motherhood in anime. Not because she’s terrible per se, but because mothering doesn’t come naturally to her. At all. It’s not some magical transformation that she (like all women) automatically goes through. Some women struggle with the trials and with not knowing what to do. Some fail at it, no matter how much they wished they could do better. And Michiko reflects that possibility.

Of course, Michiko isn’t the only mother in the series. On the contrary, the series has quite a few mothers and mother-figures. In episodes five and six, we meet the woman who ran the orphanage that Mitchiko grew up in, Zelia Bastos. A hard woman, we see her making a terrible situation almost functional. She’s a horror, but a horror found in a horrible world. We see a menagerie of mother-figures, but almost none are actual biological and true-to-the-iconic-image of the mother-saint found in so many other anime. Whether it’s a drag-queen single father doing his best or even Hatchin having to take care of her ill mother, motherhood as both a responsibility and an identity is an undercurrent in Michiko to Hatchin and nobody is the ideal.

Picture offered without comment.
Picture offered without comment.

 

The series does a lot to explore the different people in Michiko’s life, and by virtue Hatchin’s life as well. We see a multitude of different maternal figures, including, at the very end, Hatchin herself. The series closes by jumping forward half a dozen years to when Hatchin works as a cook and has a child of her own, a little baby girl. Her life is far from idyllic but it’s a life of her own creating and one free of at least some of the troubles that plagued her own mother. In some ways, her life is the result of Michiko’s trials and struggles witnessed throughout the show. Just as Michiko tried to give Hatchin a better life than she had (which she did, which is a testament to how terrible Michiko’s life was), Hatchin tries to give her daughter a better life than she. And she seems to be managing it, certainly at least compared to Michiko’s efforts.

The series, directed by Sayo Samamoto (previously known for her work on Trava: Fist Planet and Samurai Champloo) and produced by Shinichiro Watanabe (one of the leading voices in modern anime, with credits like the aforementioned Samurai Champloo as well as Cowboy Bebop and segments from the Animatrix), isn’t the most innovative or ground-breaking anime narrative to come along, but it is most certainly a breath of fresh air. It is a vibrant and encouraging show with a vivid style and a unique feel. It can remind palling anime fans of what the medium can do and it’s the sort of thing that can surprise others who might dismiss anime as nothing but “giant robots and hentai.” This is a great show that deviates from so many anime norms, but its greatest accolade may just be its bravery to make Michiko a terrible, terrible mother.

Though not for lacking of trying.
Though not for lacking of trying.

 


Robert V Aldrich is a semi-talented author who writes novels and others works, while also speaking at conventions.  His newest novel, Samifel, will be released by Haven Publishing House this June at Anime Mid-Atlantic.  His writings and other works are available at official website, TeachTheSky.com