TV & Film
Coming-of-age is a Vantage column where staffers share their opinions on a specific beat. From in-depth analyses of TV series to miscellaneous musings in music (and everything in between), this monthly column is an avenue to spread and inspire thought-provoking ideas.
In this column, Vantage Magazine Editor Bea talks about her experiences while growing up as a closeted anime binge-watcher, and how she’s reconciled with her emotions on the recent rise of the Japanese TV shows through digital streaming services.
I was in the fourth grade when I discovered anime. I remembered watching these Japanese TV shows while my classmates downloaded Taylor Swift’s iconic Love Story as MP3s. While my peers followed the lives of teen stars Hannah Montana and Raven, my life trailed behind Haruhi’s and Hikari’s adventures. Out of interest for these Japanese stories, I learned to binge-watch before even knowing what the term meant.
Catching up on anime series during the pre-Netflix era is different from what we know of binge-watching today. To watch anime online meant poring through website over website; jumping from countless videos of Part 1 to Part 2, until one (finally) reaches the last installment of the episode. Looking for the subsequent uploads felt like an adventure, and I had very little qualms on that way of watching anime.
I didn’t think of how the Japanese TV series affected my life until there came a point when it had finally influenced my interests. I dabbled on reading (and even writing) fan fiction. I explored drawing anime characters and posting these on online artists’ community DeviantArt. Sometimes, I even scouted for my next best purchase of anime merchandise secretly tucked within the corners of Comic Alley. But, as all awkward teenagers trying to grow into the world of friendships, I hid interests that did not match those of my peers. Since not a lot of my classmates were into these shows, all of these anime-related stints were kept secret: They never saw the light of day outside the drawers in my bedroom.
Just as I wanted to fit in with my mutuals’ hobbies, any niche interests should be hidden. Not a lot of people enjoyed these Japanese TV shows back then, so I grew up in a decade where talking about anime is a calculated move: Will you risk becoming the black sheep of your barkada just because of a TV show? I didn’t want to stand the chance. For the past few years, I’ve been a closeted anime binge-watcher. I’ve never been vocal about it. In fact, this is the first time that I’m publicly writing about this interest.
What changed?
Netflix did.
The quarantine made watching, and therefore binge-watching, more convenient. Gone are the days of looking for Part 1, Part 2, until Part X. On Netflix, it’s easy to see which show to start, since you’re given recommendations based on your viewing history. With a click of a mouse or a remote control, a whole library of anime series becomes available for you.
Because shows can be streamed at the viewers’ convenience, the interest for Japanese TV shows have grown. Viewers follow Deku’s story with highly-acclaimed superhero All Might. They sit in with Class 3E and Koro-sensei, to see how the students try to save the world from their (apparently) ultra-villain teacher. They follow Hinata’s and Kageyama’s journeys as they hope to become up-and-coming athletes in the exciting world of volleyball.
I’m happy that more people have come to love and enjoy anime. However, I still don’t think that I can muster the courage to talk about the Japanese shows on my watchlist. While a number of anime series are gaining traction within my current peers, a part of me still can’t (and won’t) forget my growing pains of cultivating interests related to anime. For now, I’ll keep my list of fan fiction secretly tucked in my phone’s tabs, hide the records of my anime drawings inside the depths of my childhood drawer, and dust the merchandise that I’ve held on to for the longest time.
Exposé