Mouryou no Hako, a boxful of wonderfully hard-boiled madness

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.

9 thoughts on “Mouryou no Hako, a boxful of wonderfully hard-boiled madness

  1. 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.

    I’m glad someone else picked up on this, because as far as I’m concerned CLAMP’s involvement with the series made it go from ‘good’ to ‘very good’. Their style isn’t suited for most anime character designs. For example, I happen to feel that their involvement with Code Geass was to the series’ detriment, and perhaps inspired it down the path of melodrama it ended up following. But given the melodrama of the situation described in Moryou no Hako, CLAMP’s exaggerated, slightly overdone style was right at home. Honestly, this is one of the most underrated series to come out in the last 2-3 years.

    • I highly recommend it myself, as well as encouraging you to check out the novel series; the Japanese might be a bit hard, but the first book from the novel series (MnH is the second novel in that series) has been translated into English.

  2. The first novel from the series of novels of which Mouryou no Hako is the second actually has been translated into English. Vertical released it under the title ‘Summer of the Ubume’, and it was extremely good. Having read it, I get the feeling that the whole ‘mouryou’ portion of Mouryou no Hako probably just didn’t transfer well from the page to the screen – the short runtime probably made it impossible to really integrate it properly. I really wish someone would sub the live action movie so I could compare the two.

  3. Hey I’m not the only one who thought those sit-and-talk episodes were boring!

    Well, they weren’t exactly boring but dragging it for 3 episodes were way too much.

    I personally really like CLAMP’s designs in general, and I find their sleek look somewhat melancholy, which I think worked for Mouryou (and although I haven’t seen xxxholic, looks very pretty nonetheless). And the series just has the most brilliant 2 first episodes and 2 last episodes, little bit weaker towards middle, but still a very awesome series.

  4. Loved this show to pieces for most of the reasons mentioned in the post. I especially liked how the author of one book transposed himself and his friends into the scenes of the other book as he read it… that worked out beautifully.

    Only point of disagreement, I guess, is that I really liked the two episodes of exploring what mouryou were. Somehow the “bad narrative” of it all appealed to me, made the show feel rougher, and also more artsy, and while artsy is often thrown around as a derogative, I liked it here. This show had definite class. *thumbs up*

  5. I too didn’t mind the exposition episodes, but I agree that they probably interupt the narrative (I’m so used to reading hard SF, that I sometimes don’t notice this stuff). I loved the historical context of the show, especially in reference to the war, such as the detective’s flashback on the train and the mention of Unit 731 (never thought I’d ever see that brought up in an anime). Glad to know that one of the novels is out. I enjoyed Loups Garous from the same author.

  6. I found the transition from the Kanako x Yuriko arc to be extremely jarring and I didn’t really manage to get a grip on the story until Kyoukudou moved stage centre. There’s a lot of exposition and it was extremely hard to follow without subs (or Japanese fluency) – it didn’t help the show’s popularity/following among anibloggers that there were no subs for the last 4-5 episodes until *months* after it aired. But oh the wait has been worth it.

    All throughout the opening readings and Sekiguchi’s imaginations of the various texts was excellent in creating that haunting feeling of the series but also how Sekiguchi himself was haunted by the awful power of the words that he had read – horror yet poignancy mixed together as he found his humanity to disembark from the train heading towards its unknown and humanly unknowable destination – relief yet envy, a feeling that mirrors my own wrt the series.

    WRT your concluding para/point on rewatchability, this series gets better and better with each rewatch – you can see how the seeds of the various plot points and concepts being laid, how they germinate, grow and blossom – the atmosphere of the show is so heavy and yet, like the mouryou in the shadows of the in-between, so hard to see and grasp but once I did, the fascination took hold so strongly like a demon’s grip.

  7. @Celeste: I really do like CLAMP’s aesthetic and it works so well in this show, but it isn’t always appropriate. I really enjoyed Code Geass, but I’ve yet to watch the second season and I’m expecting it to go over-the-top with the melodrama; at the point I’m at (the end of the first season) the character designs don’t take anything away from the entertainment value, but don’t add anything either.

    @2DT: I recommend you persevere with it if you get the chance. I’m sure you’ll appreciate it, and it is really unusual!

    @A Day Without Me: yeah, I suspected that it was the way it was conveyed to the screen; I’ve made a mental note of Summer of Ubume and will make an effort to track it down. Interestingly, Loups-Garous (another one of Kyogoku’s works) is out in English too, as part of the Haikasoru line. That’s on my to-read list too!

    @Gaguri: there isn’t much I can say, apart from agreeing wholeheartedly. I’ve been tempted to watch xxxholic, but mainly because the aesthetic looks so beautiful.

    @lolikitsune: the way the author’s work imitated life, then made this crazy back-and-forth inspiration of the literature and real life was a pleasant surprise, and was very well done.

    @JELEINEN: I really enjoyed the post-war setting too – one of the best early scenes was that flashback the detective experienced, with those huge tanks and the creepy bloodstained hand-prints on the train carriage windows. A really creepy scene, which set up the weirdness later on. I’ll probably pick up Loups-Garous in the next month or two, because you guys have perked my interest now!

    @Zyl: the sporadic subbing hindered the fan following I think, which was unfortunate because, as I found out, you need to keep watching with the previous episode fresh in your mind in order to maintain a grasp on what’s going on. I’m sure I’ll rewatch it again because I get this overwhelming urge to completely immerse myself in a show sometimes…and this is a good example.

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