Carole and Tuesday vs. Kids on the Slope - Part 1.

Written by The Curmudgeon

SPOILER WARNING: The following contains spoilers for both Carole and Tuesday and Kids on the Slope. Go watch them first if you don't want the plot spoiled. If you have seen them, or you just don't care, read on!

I love Shinichiro Watanabe. I love ‘im. He’s responsible for some of my favourite things; from Cowboy Bebop (1998) – smart, sombre, and slick – to the utterly hilarious and bizarre Space Dandy (2014), he’s got a style that suits me just fine. Although it’s unlikely he’ll ever make something which moves me quite like Bebop, he always finds a way to imbue his work with such panache.

Also, he wears sunglasses all the damn time. I’m not kidding, it’s actually challenging to find out what this man’s eyes look like.

The problem is that he doesn’t helm too many original titles. As such, when Watanabe’s most recent series, Carole and Tuesday (2019), debuted this year, it made some serious waves. Something about this musical love-letter clicked with a lot of people, and it clicked with me too…

…at first.

If I’m being honest with the critical voice in my head, something about Carole and Tuesday just wasn’t right. After making it through the first half of season one, I had the brutal realisation that it’s just not good.

This is, of course, just my opinion. But I’m going to do my best to explain why I think Carole and Tuesday falls short, especially by Watanabe’s standards. And what better way to do that than by comparing it to a similar - but more effective - Watanabe project: Kids on the Slope (2012).

What’s it all about?

Carole and Tuesday

If you haven’t seen Carole and Tuesday, the basic gist of it is this: the heiress to a wealthy estate (Tuesday) runs away from home to become a musician, with naught but a suitcase and her 6-string. When she makes it to the big city, she bumps into a busker (Carole), laying out some melodies on her keyboard. It’s love at first sight, so to speak. What follows is a rags-to-riches sort of ordeal, as the two strive for success with the help of their out-of-shape, washed-up manager.

Kaoru and Sentaro in Kids on the Slope

Kids on the Slope, on the other hand, follows three high schoolers – Kaoru, Sentaro, and Ritsuko – finding kinship with one another through jazz, and discovering themselves along the way. Set against the backdrop of 1966 Japan, the miniseries’ musical overtones make it an apt comparison to Watanabe’s latest.

Now, if you’re familiar with me, you’ll know that my normal conduct for negative opinions is squeezed through the filter of over-the-top cynicism and pretentiousness for comedic effect. I like to get angry; I like to be passionate. It makes it much more fun.

In the case of Carole and Tuesday, however, I’m mostly just sad. Truth be told, Shinichiro Watanabe is one of my personal favourite directors, and the fact that he’s directed something in which I found so many glaring, fundamental flaws is just upsetting to me. So, this time, I’m just going to be straightforward about it.

If you enjoyed Carole and Tuesday like so many others, more power to you. Nonetheless, here are my criticisms, contrasted against Kids on the Slope and how the latter did it all better. Without further ado…

Part 1: Canned Drama

The first few episodes of Carole and Tuesday are a little more palatable because they don’t really try to do anything. There’s an awful lot of screwing around and doing little of consequence. My favourite episode thus far entails Carole and Tuesday making a slapdash, embarrassing music video as part of their quest for popularity. It’s funny, it’s slice of life, and it allows the characters to take the forefront. In many ways, Carole and Tuesday might have been better off this way; low-maintenance, slice-of-life fun with a likeable crew of kooky characters. But the series really begins to fall apart when it attempts to be a little more dramatic.

The drama in Carole a Tuesday is pretty surface-level. It comes across like it was thrown in last minute to keep things interesting, without having any lasting or meaningful impact on the story. For example; towards the end of the first half of season 1, during a competition arc (I’ll get to THAT later…), Tuesday meets a fellow contestant who’s…clingy, to say the least. There’s some weird, stalker-y behaviour, but it goes unchecked. Later in the arc, said stalker turns hostile. “What happens next,” you might be thinking.

Tuesday, moments before the plot stops making sense...

They burn Tuesday’s hand with liquid nitrogen. Where did they attain liquid nitrogen? How did they contain it in a little box? What the fuck is happening?

...aaaaand there it goes

In either case, this totally ridiculous setup serves to fry up some quick conflict. How can Tuesday play guitar with an injured hand? How will she file her tax returns, or type up scathing reviews of popular anime on the internet? Surely, the competition is over. Woe and thrice woe. Except that everything is fine because she can still sing. Her hand is healed by the next episode, and the whole ordeal has zero influence over the story and no lasting implications.

In stark contrast, Kids on the Slope keeps its drama firmly rooted in the characters, and thus has a much more lasting impact on the plot. For instance; when Sentaro – the drummer to Kaoru’s pianist - gets in a motorcycle accident, it’s more that just an accident. He survives, yes. But his younger sister riding with him narrowly avoids death. Couple this with an over-bloated sense of paternal responsibility on account of absent parents, and you’ve got disaster. Sentaro and his 4 siblings are largely without parental guidance, a role which Sentaro desperately tries to fill. With this in mind, what seems like a simple accident weighs on him as a detrimental failure.

Sachiko, Sentaro's sister/cousin(?)

All of this leads to Sentaro’s self-exile and alienation from his friends for the better part of a decade. The gig they’d been building up to goes out the window. It’s not just a matter of a sprinkling of canned drama, then everything is conveniently fine.

This might not seem like a fair comparison – the former example is just a little minor conflict, a bit of spice. The latter, a major plot advancement in the finale of the show. Perhaps a more appropriate contrast is in order.

It’s set up early on in Carole and Tuesday that Tuesday’s mother is somewhat stifling. She’s a career politician with no interest in her daughter’s own pursuits. When Tuesday escapes her familial shackles, her mother sets about finding her to bring her home. A runaway child is bad for publicity, I suppose.

As expected, Tuesday is kidnapped by her mother right before the finale of the competition arc. Much like the above example from Kids on the Slope, this could be an opportunity for some actual stakes. But, once again, it has more-or-less no lasting consequences. Carole and the manager hatch a break-out plan, and the whole subplot takes up about 10 minutes of screen time. Maybe less. Carole and Tuesday are late for the final showdown which means their opponent wins by default. But they still get to perform and they still get signed, which is basically the prize for winning anyway.

This is shaping up to be a little lengthier than I’d planned, so I’ll be continuing my gripes in another post. Next time, I’ll be taking a look at how music is integrated into both Carole and Tuesday and Kids on the Slope. Stay posted, friends!

A small disclaimer

So I haven’t posted anything for a little while now…

Unfortunately, I’m still studying for university, and I’m knee-deep in the crunch period right now. But, as soon as I’m not swimming in essays and regret, I’ll be right back to my normal upload schedule.

The benefit of having a following that consists of about 7 people is that upload schedules aren't too strict...

Au revoir, curmudgeons!