There’s as many anime series about high school clubs as there stars in the sky—or if there isn’t yet, there will be eventually, because every new season sees a few more being made. Kabuki-bu! is somewhat unfortunate in being not just the only anime about a school kabuki club, but one of the few anime about traditional Japanese performance arts, full stop. Furthermore, its original release date was less than two weeks after the conclusion of Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju, another Studio Deen production about a traditional Japanese performance art, and one of the most thematically deep anime yet made, full stop. It’s not much of a stretch to compare the two shows to each other, which leaves Kabuki-bu! looking inferior by far. Watching Kabuki-bu! at a distance of a couple of years, however, I find it to be middling even within the over-saturated school club genre—but it has a few refreshing aspects that will make it enjoyable for the right viewer.
Kabuki-bu‘s treatment of its characters is what sets it apart from the myriad of school club shows about cute girls (or, more rarely, cute boys) being cute. There’s no fanservice whatsoever, for starters, and it has a mix of male and female characters. The show treats them kindly, and they all face interesting problems. Their storylines often involve questioning gender roles, both in real life and on the kabuki stage, all without fetishizing homosexuality.
Kurogo, the lead character here, has a passion for kabuki that was inspired by his (deceased) grandfather, and which he hopes to pass on to other people. He is earnest and determined but also practical, and his methods of getting people to join his group don’t veer into threats, sexual assault or invasive stalking, which contrasts him nicely against characters from other school club shows (or college club, in the case of Run With the Wind). Despite his in-depth knowledge of kabuki, he has no acting talent, making him an ideal director—but also unable to fill in onstage in a pinch.
Two of the group’s performers deal with gender identity in different ways. Kaoru is a prince-type who has won a legion of female fans through her acting in the drama club; in trying to recruit her, Kurogo pays no heed to the fact that kabuki is traditionally performed only by men. Kaoru’s personality is not the stereotypical suave charmer, but is more low-key and modest. Hanamichi, meanwhile, has a background in performing traditional Japanese dances in female roles. At the show’s outset, however, he has retreated into a macho façade, unable to reconcile being straight and also rather effeminate.
The group’s backstage team have issues that are handled in a surprisingly down-to-earth way, for an anime. Kurogo’s best friend, Tonbo, is unemotional (having “weak expression muscles”) but devoted and loyal; he handles the audio-visual aspects of the group’s performances. Maruko, a costume designer, has a habit of introducing herself as fat and ugly so no one else can get to it first.
The remaining two main characters are a complementary pair. Ebihara resists joining the kabuki group: he’s a professional actor, from a kabuki family. He finds the notion of amateurs performing kabuki to be not only ridiculous, but offensive. He’s such a traditionalist that his performances are out of place in the present day: his grandfather and his teacher urge him to be less serious and more relatable, but he is resistant to this as well. Ebihara is a layered character, surrounded by familial and cultural context, and never ceases to be the most interesting part of the show.
Shin is, ostensibly, Ebihara’s rival: he’s rumoured to come from a kabuki family, but doesn’t have the prestige and support that entails. He was trained in the art by his mother, who now lives in America. He’s crude, blunt and not very smart—in short, unrefined. When he performs a scene with Ebihara, under the guidance of Ebihara’s grandfather, both of them improve. Clearly, they work well together—but this doesn’t go anywhere. They still don’t like each other at the end of the show, and Shin still has no interest in receiving serious kabuki training. They don’t push each other to new heights.
It doesn’t help that Shin is the focus of a lot of clumsy or cringe-worthy comedy. He has little self-awareness and often says the wrong thing at the wrong time, including a lot of mangled English words. If Maruko’s around, she hits him. Rinse and repeat. It’s nice that he’s not also a serial sexual harasser who never learns (there’s none of that type of humour in this show), but that still doesn’t make it funny when a girl hits him.
The characters in Kabuki-bu! might be likeable but they aren’t necessarily used well. Their internal conflicts are resolved early in the series and aren’t raised again. Furthermore, apart from the friendship between Kurogo and Tonbo, their interpersonal relationships aren’t compelling. Each character rarely contributes something distinctive to their group scenes, apart from Shin being dumb and getting hit by Maruko. A romance between Tonbo and Kaoru is hinted at but goes nowhere.
The direction doesn’t help make the character interactions more interesting. Even when they’re having meaningful dialogue, there’s too many static shots that are framed in the most basic of ways. A scene in which Shin reveals his true family history is shot in more or less the same way as any other conversation in the show—despite being much more important.
Unlike many club-based shows, Kabuki-bu! doesn’t have a strong over-arching goal. A few short term goals include getting enough members, putting on performances, and recruiting Ebihara. But although there’s a competitive aspect to the group’s relationship with the drama club, there’s no series of structured challenges, such as you’ll typically find in shows involving teen characters trying to improve themselves. There’s no momentum. The last episode is just about putting on a show—and not in the meaningful, inspiring way that the finale of Kaleido Star was just about putting on a show.
It’s hard, in fact, to pin down what Kurogo’s group gains in their final performance. Okay, sure, they succeed in showing kabuki to their entire school and will presumably gain more members in the future. By doing so, Kurogo maintains his feeling of connection to his grandfather. But what about the rest of the group? The show does not directly depict their motivations in participating in the performance. Are they coming to terms with a part of themselves? Are they making a mark on the school that will be left behind when they graduate? Are they gaining a new skill, impressing a special someone, or forming the foundations of a future career? They’re certainly not saving the school, fulfilling someone’s dying wish, or any of the more dramatic goals you often find in these sorts of anime. They’re just putting on a show—and a show that’s mostly dialogue with little animation, at that. The performance is still enjoyable, but not the most emotional way of finishing a series.
It seems to me like a mistake to keep Ebihara from helping the group until the final episode. Granted, Kurogo’s efforts to get him to join are the greatest source of tension within the show. However, it’s a letdown that they use guilt to win him over—he possibly caused one of their cast to fall ill, so he repays them by being her understudy. We only get one scene of him helping the other actors to improve. More than this, there’s no time spent on how the experience has helped his own acting skills. About half of the closing credits show him with his family and teachers, with everyone looking happy, as though he’s made a breakthrough—but this is not the best way of showing character growth. (The rest of the closing credits show the other characters hanging out, feeling proud, and looking happy – which, again, doesn’t say anything about their unique personal goals.)
So, as far as school club shows go, Kabuki-bu! is unexciting. However, it does succeed in its focus on kabuki. The show is clearly pitched at people who have little to no knowledge about kabuki, but who are willing to learn. This means we get quite a few conversations about different terms, stories, and historical facts. This should be no problem for the right viewer, i.e one who hasn’t tuned in just to watch cute girls struggling to accomplish something.
The group faces a constant question: how can kabuki remain relevant today? This show suggests that the answer lies in opening up the art to different types of performers: women, amateurs, and young people. Kabuki-bu! makes it clear that each kabuki tale is open to being interpreted in different ways. However, the formality of kabuki makes it seem inaccessible and even impossible to relate to. Kurogo’s group eventually finds two solutions to this problem. For one performance, they stage the same work twice, in first a modern style and setting and then in a traditional manner, complete with archaic, complex language. Later on, they add subtitles to the backdrop of a different performance; these both interpret and explain what’s happening onstage.
Being ignorant about kabuki myself, I can’t comment on how truly creative this show is with its kabuki performances. I have a lot of opinions about the successfulness of various different Shakespeare adaptations and, in the same manner, a kabuki fan will see details in the performances in this show that I won’t. However, I do on the whole enjoy how Kabuki-bu! depicts creative debates and problem-solving.
Much of this show’s visual interest is reserved for the kabuki scenes. In addition to the often mediocre direction I mentioned above, the show’s art remains pleasant but unremarkable. The animation, never wonderful, dips at times. The characters’ eyes often look oddly-placed on their faces and, worse, their pupils sometimes have a misshapen look that’s reminiscent of a medical condition. Nonetheless, Kabuki-bu! lavishes details on the kabuki costumes, and the professional kabuki theater is the most complex piece of background art.
Sound-wise, the show makes interesting use of kabuki instruments in the music. In every other respect, however, the BGM isn’t remarkable. The voice actors, meanwhile, have to deliver lines in kabuki’s particular vocal performance style. Again, there’s probably nuances that I miss, but the cast seems up to the challenge. Ryoto Osaka as Shin is the standout, delivering off-key singing, multiple kabuki roles, rapping kabuki dialogue, and impersonating other characters.
Kabuki-bu! is what it is: a relatively lower budget show about a niche interest. Where it fails to reach the comedic and melodramatic heights of the school club drama genre, it manages to both educate the viewer about kabuki and help them engage with questions about the art and its future. It also leaps right over the more problematic aspects often found in shows about high-schoolers and focuses on personal issues that many shows ignore. This mightn’t be an especially good show, but it’s well-intentioned enough to overcome its flaws.
Quetzal Attack 