Stop Sleeping on "Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!"

Words by Curmudgeon Film Talk.

Well, we’re all quarantined so you know what that means.

Time to watch some anime!

Yes, the world hangs in fragile balance, and the only thing keeping me from gnawing my fingers off is the extensive canon of film and television, particularly a wealth of anime available to stream. I’m guessing you, dear readers, feel the same way. If so, pull up a seat…

In these trying times, there sure is a hell of a lot to watch. Somewhere in this overabundance of audio-visual media, it’s easy for great content to slip through the cracks. Add cultural export to the equation, and it's plain to see how certain anime in particular can disappear into obscurity.

Tsubame Mizusaki, Kanamori Sayaka and Asakusa Midori in 'Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!'

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!, or Hands Off the Motion Pictures Club! (2020), is one such title that just doesn’t seem to be making waves. On the contrary, however, the show is an absolute delight. It deserves your attention, and hopefully I can explain why.

The series revolves around a ragtag trio of high-schoolers who scrap together an indie anime venture. Together, they create and produce anime, making a name for themselves (and a few quick bucks) along the way.

Asakusa Midori

One of Hands Off’s most instant selling points is its stellar ensemble cast. At its core, there’s Asakusa Midori. Short in stature but brimming with energy and curiosity, it is through her eyes that most of the narrative is lensed. Then there’s the sociable, popular Tsubame Mizusaki; a model by trade, shoehorned by her parents into pursuing acting. Her fascination with the human form, however, has driven her into following animation. Finally, we’ve got Kanamori Sayaka. Unwittingly nicknamed “Kanamoney,” she’s a ruthlessly pragmatic business brain with an overt fervour for farming funds.

Tsubame Mizusaki

Like any great ensemble cast, the trio complement one another in various ways. Midori and Mizusaki, for instance, who specialise in animating settings and figures respectively, form a mutually beneficial part of the production process. And, of course, where would they be without the bureaucratically-minded Sayaka to keep them on-course, under-budget, and under control? After all, Midori herself begrudgingly admits that “it’s less about finishing or completing the project, and more the outcome of passion crashing against compromise and resignation.”

Kanamori Sayaka

A lot of the entertainment of this tripartite dynamic comes from their differences; how they respond to situations differently, and how their disparate thought processes yield totally diverse perspectives. Sayaka relays to Midori when they first meet: “The idea that all children can potentially be friends is magical thinking on the part of the educators.” Midori’s response: “So friendship is magical?”

Midori, Mizusaki and Sayaka form a sort of small-scale simulacrum of an animation studio. They guide us excitedly though every aspect of the production, from story boarding, to sound design, to editing. As they do so, Hands Off solidifies its identity through its frequent use of magical realism – the protagonists’ rampant flights of fancy explode into the real world in a way that collapses distinctions between imagination and reality. Usually from the perspective of the excitable Midori, her ideas are manifested into quasi-physical reality, allowing the characters – and the audience – to explore her imagination as though it were a level in a video game. It imbues such an earthbound story with a genuine sense of enthusiasm, passion, and creative flair. It allows us into the minds of its protagonists and takes us on a journey through their artistic process and authorial adventure. Often, it serves as a way of keying the audience in to the excitement of artistic discovery. It engages us, and the characters in its world, more directly with the product. The ‘real’ and the ‘imaginary’ are distinguished by the use of pencil sketches and watercolour to demarcate illustrations on a page, a welcome stylistic shift that keeps Hands Off’s visual style (almost) constantly explorative and fun.

Mizusaki and Midori, cruising their imagination.

The plot meanders, but this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s complementary of its relaxed tone and quotidian subject matter. Any forward-motion is maintained mostly by the presence of the school authority – a pseudo-antagonistic presence that could loosely be described as the ‘villain’ of the show. What little conflict there is usually boils down to the domineering, controlling hands of the school council. Hands Off’s extremely literal representation of this authority has its tongue firmly plastered to its cheek – the ridiculous inclusion of riot police and other such exaggerated forms of authoritarianism keeps this ‘villain’ constantly in the realm of parody. Indeed, they never really pose a sense of danger, which perhaps works to Hands Off’s detriment. That said, it’s befitting of the show’s comedic tone, and allows the cast and the act of animation to take the fore.

Naturally, Hands Off isn’t without its flaws. As is perhaps inevitable with an ensemble cast, the characters won’t be of equal interest. Midori and Sayaka are easily the most entertaining of the three, perhaps due to their polarised personalities, emphasised by their deliberately contrasting character designs: Sayaka’s tall physique comprised of sharp edges and squares, and Midori’s miniature build and general roundness. Unfortunately, Mizusaki falls short by comparison – her presence in the narrative is mostly practical, and the subdued nature of her behaviour fails to compete with her counterparts. She isn’t without charm, but is nonetheless the weaker link.

Sayaka, Midori and Mizusaki editing sound with Doumeki Parker.

The animation isn’t always constant in quality, either. It’s got character where it counts, but there are some pretty noticeable shortcuts on occasion. Since the story is so preoccupied with underlining the practicality of the animation process, and why these shortcuts exist, these dips in quality are all the more noticeable.

Don’t let these minor gripes turn you away, though. Make no mistake; Hands Off is absolutely worth your time, and given the current quarantine, time is something we’ve got in droves.

Hands Off is most comparable to something like Shirobako (2014), but distinguishes itself with its indie focus and idiosyncratic visual appeal. Do yourselves a favour and add it to the ol’ watch list.

See more: Moral Choices in Video Games

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