Recommended
"I think solo camping is a way to appreciate loneliness." Great cute girl anime have an effervescent quality to them that never fails to casually curl either corner of my mouth no matter how inane or minimalist the antics on screen become. By now, we’re all familiar with quiddities/odds and ends of a cute girl anime as they’re thoroughly ingrained in the genetic code that makes anime...well…“anime”. What shows like “Yuru Camp” lack in narrative heft they make up for through sheer force of charm. And that’s not to say that shows pigeonholed as “CGDCT” are entirely bereft of anything worthwhile, as the narrative oftengoes. I say this without a lick of irony, but cute girl anime almost form a sort of parasocial relationship with their audience, more-so than a lot of other genres. This is due to the grounded simplicity of the storytelling as well as the cast members themselves often serving as proper analogs for friends and family (save for the shrill voices and big eyes).
But what more does Yuru Camp have to offer that hasn’t already been retrofitted by any number of other functional cute girl shows? Truth be told, you almost have to actively try to fuck up a cute girl anime because they’re just that easy to write. Most of them nowadays don’t even try to hide the fact that they’re aping one of their predecessors. In regards to content, Yuru Camp is quite breezy, so breezy in fact that some have taken to calling it (myself included) an iyashikei anime. On top of being an exemplary cute girl anime, Yuru Camp effortlessly bridges the gap between irreverent gag comedies like K-On! and meditative deliberately paced iyashikei like Aria and Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou. This is a particularly odd marriage of two genres on its surface, they’re practically diametrically opposed. But when you really think about these two contrasting energies, the shamanic self-reflective loneliness of an iyashikei and the galvanized free-wheeling entropy of being in a friend-group like a cute girl anime, therein lies the duality of a balanced life and the recipe for a damn great anime.
For transparency’s sake, I feel it’s necessary to be forthcoming about the fact that I am an avid camper myself. With that, you could potentially glean that I have a dog in this fight. Frankly, I do. Yuru Camp dials me back to those summer nights, splayed out on the pebbly shores of a campsite, drunkenly trying to point out the different constellations and asterisms above to my friends. Or simply lying there with our eyes closed as we share in a communal silence, melting into the night, knowing that when we open them again, we’ll be together once more. In the social distancing era, these moments are precious.
Where S1 of Yuru Camp faltered was in its need to establish rudimentary camping know-how. Perhaps this is a non-criticism to those who don’t know much about camping, and in truth, the sight gags and sound editing greatly mitigate what would otherwise be something of a slog. This isn’t to say that the discrepancy in quality between both seasons is vast, not by a long shot, but with all of the minutiae having been already taken care of in its first season, S2 is significantly more focused.
The degree of agency that these characters are given is frankly somewhat unprecedented for a show like this. By now you’d imagine that one of the core tenets of a cute girl anime is wholesome togetherness in the face of everything from abject misery to minor inconvenience, to the point that the term “moeblob” takes on an entirely new meaning. It’s a scary thought, imagine Tetsuo Shima’s transformation scene in Akira except with bigger eyes and multi-colored hair. The globular goofballs that populate Yuru Camp’s cast have far more freedom than that.
What really sells Yuru Camp’s characters as an organic and believable friend group is the fact that they’re not always together. Their group texts read true to life, like one you may be a part of with a group of friends, making plans but also splintering off in different directions due to availability. While they all like each other in a manner expected of a cute girl show, it’s apparent that they have exclusive dynamics only present between certain friends. I’d also be remiss to not mention just how against the grain it is to force a wedge between these girls. This goes to show just how much trust is put into these characters as individuals going off on their own adventures and yet still being fully capable of carrying episodes on their lonesome. Often, these rare insular episodes are the ones that entrance you the most with their healing properties and measured pace.
Individually, most of the characters remain largely unchanged but there isn’t really a need for them to change. Inuko’s little sister (Chibiko?) is introduced in this season, and she is just as saucy and diabolical as her sister, thank god they don’t have the nuclear codes. Nadeshiko, who was mostly relegated to an audience surrogate in S1, really came into her own this time around. Watching her navigate her first solo camping trip was delightful, mainly because Rin and her older sister fumbling to shadow her like concerned helicopter parents underscores just how much they care for her (on top of being hilarious). That aside, watching Nadeshiko put into practice what she’s learned from Rin (as well as passing some of her own wisdom down to other campers) is deeply satisfying. And of course, there’s Sensei. Ah Sensei, I’m right there with yah.
I’ve watched quite a number of anime over the years but few that I’ve gone out of my way to watch have been so emphatic about exploring Japan’s natural beauty. You’d think that these girls were charting hinterlands in any given outing they go on. For example, I wasn’t even aware that there were notable basalt columns in Japan before having watched this anime (but I guess that’s on me). A show like this was made for the standard still-frame minimalism that animators in this industry are often forced to abuse due to scheduling and time crunches. The still-frames in Yuru Camp are almost like flipping through the pages of a glossy coffee table photography book. Would I be THIS charitable to just any show skirting by on the bare minimum as far as animation goes? It’s only because Yuru Camp knows how to properly calibrate its minimalism for maximum output.
Yuru Camp is a comedy of details, and often the smallest of details do the heaviest of lifting. It’s the little things that make Yuru Camp so special, like when Ena is showing Rin photos of her trip with Chiaki and Inuko and you can see her finger partially obscuring the camera lens on her phone in the corner of the picture. A resoundingly innocuous detail but one that further adds to the organic believability of this world. I also can’t praise the character designs and outfits in this show enough. These girls have that Pacific Northwest DRIP. The character designs and general art design of the show is distinctively cartoony, save for the scenery porn. Yuru Camp does not come up short in the sight gag department. Its dry comedic sensibilities are accentuated by its snappy but simple editing style. Quick cuts and stylized facial expressions make up the bulk of the laughs but it’s not afraid to get creative with the musical cues and effects.
One scene that really stood out to me as far as arresting camera techniques was when Nadeshiko was simply walking through a town during her first solo camping trip. As she walks with a mountain in the background and with the neighborhood she’s traversing in the foreground, the natural sense of parallax is almost like an old Disney cartoon on those multiplane cameras or even Akira (leave it to me to mention Akira more than once in a friggin Yuru Camp review). The interesting camera techniques also extend to the visual gags. Like when Rin attempts to cross a rickety bridge and it switches to handheld like she’s on Survivorman.
Theoretically, Yuru Camp’s soundtrack is something that shouldn’t have a modicum of cohesion. The diversity of its sound palette was deliberately curated by Akiyuki Tateyama, who pulled from completely disparate corners of the globe. I can only describe the lush instrumentation as rustic which deeply accentuates the outdoorsy antics. You’ll hear anything from pedal steel guitars and fiddles to pan pipes and mandolins in any given episode which can honestly catch you off guard. The delicate acoustic guitar notes and the mellow lounge percussion remind me of Choro Club’s work on the Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou’s soundtrack. There’s even a bossa nova track or two which makes me yearn for Hekiru Shiina on backing vocals at the very least.
For better or for worse, Yuru Camp’s tactile qualities will make it something of an insurmountable wall for certain audiences. It’s not a particularly challenging anime but it’s the type of thing that you kind of just have to “feel” for yourself. I’m sure some will find it to simply be nothing more than a twee travel brochure anime padded to its core with innumerable layers of fluff and the occasional yuck. But for others (who are fortunate enough to have the means and capacity to do so) Yuru Camp is a prescient anime whose content is a charming forecast of better days to come in the great outdoors. I’m privileged to live in an area with a rich cultural heritage/a melange of biomes and microcosms to see firsthand. Nonetheless, even if it’s as simple as a leisurely trek/drive down a street you’ve never been down before somewhere in your hometown, I urge everyone to soak in something new with or without the company of others, it makes no difference. There’s not enough time allotted to us to let it all slip away like a fleeting dream.
Yuru Camp was crafted from the purview of someone who has a deep affection and understanding for what they write about. What may be a quaint show to some, to others will be a didactic reminder of our transitory human condition, and the onus is on us to make the most of that fact.
