I started watching this back in ’08 but for a number of reasons I didn’t get around to finishing it. The subbing was sporadic, the plot derailed into a lengthy period of three blokes sitting around a table talking, other shows caught my interest, etc., etc.. Last week though I finally sat down and practically forced myself to finish the thing; the mid section was as tedious as I remember but pushing on to the finale was worth every minute.
This is an extremely unusual series, which is why I’m not surprised that it’s already virtually forgotten. It’s straight-faced and serious as hell, challenging the viewer from the outset by starting off very weird indeed. And it gets weirder. Even so, I found it to be a piece of sheer bloody genius with a multi-layered maze of a plot that starts off with bizarre yuri overtones, moves into hard-boiled detective fiction with serial killers and femmes fatales, dabbles in esoteric Japanese folklore and rounds it all off with a closing act that reaches Nasu-esque levels of twisted insanity.
I don’t use the term ‘Nasu-esque’ lightly: his writing is the only other example I’ve seen so far that holds a variety of disparate themes together and pulls it off with such audacious flair. Mouryou no Hako begins with a severed head then introduces a poetic shoujo-ai subplot that does little to prepare the viewer for what follows; it’s one of the oddest ways to open a series but is a good way of drawing in those who’d appreciate the rest of the series while warning away everyone else.
Needless to say it’s very Relevant To My Interests, and I daresay that the original novel would be even more rewarding in terms of appreciating the additional details of the story. I didn’t know what to expect from the use of CLAMP character designs in this situation but they add a vital air of stylised gothic elegance to a realistic 1950s setting. The ‘CLAMP touch’ works well with the shoujo-ai aspect and sweetens what is an otherwise very thematically dark tale. I don’t know why it was decided to set the story in the 50s either, but it picks up on the feelings of rebuilding and profound change that must’ve been felt in the post-war period.
The atmospheric side of Mouryou no Hako is I think a major part of why I found it so compelling. The relationship between Yoriko and Kanako plays out in a dreamlike fashion but there’s this formless something lurking in the shadows that’s telling you that the flowers, pretty girls and moonlight are deceptive. Sure enough, it veers into murder-mystery territory with the police tramping around on the trail of a crazed killer in the sweltering summer heat, and there’s an ominous-looking box-shaped building full of scary-looking medical equipment hidden away in the woods.
This building is one of several examples of the way this series employs recurring themes and motifs, the most obvious being that of boxes. Marrying the concept of the hako, or box, with the other half of the title, mouryou, is the point where the series made its only mistake though: the Mouryou are allegedly creatures of folklore and a full two episodes or so are devoted to the terminology and derivations.
I daresay this is interesting in itself, and of course tossing in seemingly unrelated plot points that promise you they’re significant later on is all part of the general approach of the show. That is to say, there are a lot of things in here that are more significant than are immediately apparent; even so, going into such dry, hard-to-digest and ultimately irrelevant detail about the history of the word mouryou isn’t one of them. I felt a bit cheated at that because after such a gorgeous opening and, later, a brilliantly disturbing ending it broke the flow. The metaphorical idea of the mouryou does however effectively play into the story’s themes of morality and madness through obsession.
Another thing I really appreciate about this show is that the narrative jumps around and expects the viewer to put the pieces together, picking up clues as they go and taking it upon themselves to work out what to do with them. Such a mature approach to storytelling is rare (even more so now, in light of recent events), although for every viewer who loves it there’ll be another who finds the experience frustrating.
Mouryou no Hako is an ambitiously-mixed cocktail of concepts and aesthetics that are so varied that the chances of failing would’ve been high. Surprisingly the aforementioned verbose stream of jargon is the only point where it stumbles because CLAMP’s shoujo character designs make a wonderful contrast next to the blood-soaked violence, the historical setting is perfect for a film noir murder-mystery and when the concept of the mouryou is used in the context of the serial killings and mystery elements, the mystical and realistic complement each other rather than clash.
The ‘rewatchability’ of the show is also an important point, which includes those pre-opening-credit excerpts of short stories written by two of the characters. They are indeed important but it’s not until you watch the series in its entirety that you understand where exactly they fit in. I must admit that this was one more thing that genuinely surprised me, so for fear of spoiling it I urge you to see it through to the end if you’ve made a start on it and like what you saw.