Eve no Jikan (Time of Eve) Act 5: Chie & Shimei
Although the episode titles are usually self-explanatory for this series I’d say this outing was as focused on Rikuo as it was on the young girl and her elderly companion. Not that this is a bad thing, mind: we’ve been given hints of who (or what) they may be already, and they’re frequent visitors to the café anyway. It’s not so much who they are as why their relationship is the way it is that is interesting for me because of the resulting ethical questions. Not to mention another tantalisingly small piece of the jigsaw puzzle of the backstory for the show.
Perhaps we’re supposed to be concentrating on Chie and Shimei here but I was even more fascinated by Rikuo’s predicament in this episode. The philosophical stuff – and simpler, more day-to-day issues too – gave me plenty to think about, and ultimately provided the biggest emotional hit from Eve no Jikan’s latest quarter-hour offering. As unlikely as the prospect may be, I hope Ray Kurzweil is watching this too.
It’s fair to say Shimei is an android, and a special one at that. This raises the question of the whereabouts of Chie’s biological family, but also the meaning behind Shimei’s status as some prototype. I still have this nagging suspicion that in addition to being a modern convenience, the place in everyday life that androids enjoy(?) could well be some sort of experiment by an organisation or organisations unknown. Then there’s the fact that Rikuo’s and Masaki’s respective parents are involved in the android industry too…
If Chie is happy with the arrangement, does that make the arrangement acceptable? Is it fair that she isn’t aware of the fact that her ‘foster parent’ isn’t human? Does this fact matter when they are content with things being the way they are? I guess we need to know the exact circumstances of how their situation came to be in order to judge it objectively but the questions nevertheless kept on coming and continue to do so even as I type.
In saying this I’m trying to stress that the Chie and Shimei thing was not just interesting but significant too; the most thought-provoking and memorable aspect of this outing from a personal point of view however was the subplot of Rikuo and his piano.
Firstly, there’s the issue of whether a non-human being can create or perform a work of art; keeping on-topic with the field of musical composition and expression, does it matter whether the performer is a human or machine? If the audience appreciates it regardless of this, you have to wonder. In terms of technical accuracy, digital wins out; and yet the nature of the wetware of the human brain, with the inaccuracies and unpredictabilities that go with it, must surely win over software in terms of individuality and spontaneity – two things that are important in musical expression.
I’ve often wondered, looking at the worryingly-expanding collection of effects processors connected to the guitar amp in my living room, whether there’s any truth in the idea that digital technology is superior to analogue equivalents it is trying to emulate or replace; much like the solid state vs. valve amplifier argument (which would require a lengthy explanation that I ought to save for another time). Even if the difference in sound quality of analogue is purely in my own head, does it still exert a positive effect on my playing, and if so, does this perceived psychological difference make its own case for my mantra “nothing can match the warmth of analogue” in my choice of what type of gadget to use?
Perhaps this applies to the issue of android musicians, or perhaps not. While, say, a digital chorus pedal may be more reliable and consistent in performance than an analogue counterpart, accuracy isn’t everything. A machine may be able to hit the right notes, but as Gaguri recently mused an individual’s interpretation is important when appreciating a musical piece. I’m deliberately avoiding using the word ‘soul’ here, BTW.
The way in which music evolves, and the individuality of a given piece or performance, is through new ideas – be they intentional or accidental. Humans might lack note-for-note accuracy but it remains to be seen if machines can ever be creative; assuming we’re able to formulate some Turing-style test to spot it in the first place. A bum note, slip in timing or squeak of feedback from an amp may set the performer or writer in a new direction that yields something new – currently all a machine can do is flawlessly recreate an existing work created by a human.
This is I think Rikuo’s realisation: he felt discouraged by the idea that a machine could encroach on an area he felt he could excel in. Eventually he rediscovered why he started learning in the first place: practising an instrument takes time and patience but being the best isn’t everything. One of my favourite scenes of this episode is that in which Rikuo overcomes his misgivings and plays a piece in the Time of Eve, not to win a contest, or to prove anything; he plays to entertain those around him, and to experience the pure enjoyment of making music that is your own. A machine may have wowed the critics but Rikuo could take comfort in the fact that his friends enjoyed the music HE played.
I still love the dynamic between Rikuo and Sammy, which this episode once again showed to wonderful effect. The piano scene, in which she tried to play the same tune Rikuo does, shows a very humanlike sentimental attachment to the song, and to Rikuo too I suppose. The look on her face, and that of the android audience in the café too, makes me question my earlier statement that machines cannot appreciate music in the same way humans do.
The flashback-style scene with the two of them walking in the rain absolutely floored me though, honestly. The imagery casts my mind back to an old saying I heard once: “Love is a shared umbrella.” Aside from this personal thing, the symbolism here is reminiscent of the use of umbrellas in Hideaki Anno’s Shiki Jitsu and even on a more direct level the way in which the scene summed up their awkward relationship and how it is perceived by others was simply breathtaking.
There wasn’t even a need for dialogue, which is why I think the cinematography of Eve no Jikan and this scene in particular excel so well. There’s the formation of understanding and the gradual emergence of unsaid feelings between the two of them but on top of this, the story once again highlights the way that the general public view androids and the expectations forced on android and owner alike.
I honestly don’t think the Robot Revolution is as close as we’d like to think but the early signs, such as a synthesised idoru getting her first Real Life gig alongside human stars, suggest that technology is catching up with us in a number of areas. Although I daresay some of the so-called music artists deserve to have a Sharon Apple-style figure knock them off the top spots in the charts, there are still some regions of human endeavour where machines are not so much unwelcome as unable to occupy. The degree to which this applies is one of the things I love about Eve no Jikan…not to mention the fact that it continues to make us question the status quo with such ease and makes us empathise with the characters into the bargain.
Haha…I was more lamenting the sad tragedy of my poor tiny fingers physical inability to materialise what I really wanted (oh cry me a river..).
Anyway, I read bits here and there about Eve no Jikan but this is the first time I’ve become really interested in checking it out because of that piano subplot you’ve mentioned. Using piano to explore deeper themes is one of my favourite things in a story (many favourite movies of mine are piano-related in fact), and this also seems to delve more into human/robot. I remember the movie I-Robot, where Will Smith asks the robot, ‘can a robot paint on canvas? can a robot turn a piece of paper into a symphony?’. My memories are bit fuzzy but later the robot claims that he can not create art, but he can dream, and he can copy that dream, and then starts ‘printing’ a brilliant landscape.
I haven’t watched Eve no Jikan, but I see you’ve tried to avoid the word ’soul’. I think to have your own interpretation of music, soul is what you need. Maybe one could reproduce a maestro’s performance by ordering a robot to play this piece in such a way, but that is not interpreting a piece, that is just copying. It’s not just an intellectual process it’s an emotional and spiritual one (assuming your skill is good enough to not worry about your physical abilities…), and whether a robot can interprete a music I think, will depend on its capacity to feel emotions. I wonder if in Eve no Jikan, the barrier between man and machine will be blurred through such a symbolism?
I strongly recommend you watch this then – aside from the fact that it’s a great piece from an animation and storytelling point of view, it addresses the human/robot aspect as well as the classic sci-fi movies do: it’s up there with Blade Runner and I, Robot, albeit on a more day-to-day level (but is no less effective for that). I left out the issue of ’soul’ purely because my word count was spiralling out of control!
Sorry if I misunderstood your sharing of you own performance, but even if it’s not perfect it’s still a personal interpretation unique to the individual performer, which is the distinction I see between humans and, say, an android or Vocaloid software (the latter is, at present, merely another instrument for musicians to use to express themselves). I still enjoyed listening to your recording!
A great post, and I think you’ve covered some angles that I hadn’t even considered about this episode/series previously. The conspiratorial experiment idea is an intriguing one, and it got me wondering as to whether it’s actually the Time of Eve cafe that is the experiment? Could it be that some of these androids are in fact programmed to seek it out, or is it there to test the social consequences of no longer discriminating between android and human?
The whole question of music caught my eye (ear?) more than Chie and Shimei’s relationship as well, it’s one of those timelessly fascinating questions. It’s kind of off-topic, but I never cease to be fascinated by musicians who work largely in a digital domain, yet deliberately “break” their compositions with distortion, running it through analogue equipment and what have you to bring it back to something more “human”. Back on topic, I suppose if you’re tackling the question of whether an android could ever “feel” emotion, then once they reach that point they should also be equally capable of expressing those emotions via music.
The umbrella scene was a great multi-layered one – On a basic level, sharing an umbrella in Japan is considered a public display of affection of sorts, yet of course in Rikou and Sammy’s case the association of that shared umbrella (and being seen to share it by others) goes way deeper and transcends simple like/dislike into other directions entirely.
There seem to be so many things that the final episode of this show needs to tie up, I can’t imagine how they’ll manage it. I’m expecting some big surprises/twists though considering the way Yoshiura’s other efforts have finished.
The conspiratal thing has been getting quite noticeable for me in the last couple of episodes, but who knows where Yoshiura and his team will take it. My guess is through another series of episodes after the next one (which was initially supposed to be the last one, but they’ve raised so many interesting issues I think they’re happy to continue).
The matter of digital and analogue music is an interesting one: there are things that digital technology outstrips what musicians and instruments were previously able to do but it’s still necessary, for the benefit of both performer and listener I think, for old-school technology. D$igital distortion and delay effects for example are considered harsh or cold while analogue units are described as more expressive and musical. A combination of the two yields fascinating and surprising results though!