Revisiting the Endless Eight: In Defense of One of Anime’s ‘Most Hated’ Arcs of All Time
In any kind of arts or music college, you typically can find the archetypical “cool, rebel professor.” In my music school experience, this professor had a saying: “If everyone likes what you’re doing, you’re not doing it right.”
Ahead of the second season of The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya in 2009, the series was lauded and beloved. It could do no wrong, and its influence was massive. Chainsaw Man mangaka Tatsuki Fujimoto recently said that Haruhi is the reason he became an otaku. The series was so big upon the first season’s 2006 release, the police had to break up a flash mob of people doing the dance to the first season’s ending theme in the streets of Akihabara, Tokyo’s famous otaku district.
And yet, before the podcast Get Anime’d (the Patreon-only sibling of Get Played, enjoy my sly podcast rec) decided to cover Haruhi, I had never heard of it before. And I have covered anime for a living for nearly a decade. The reason Haruhi fell so deeply and abruptly from grace has never been “scientifically proven,” but most people point toward one fateful arc in its second season: the Endless Eight.
I did not know this before I watched Endless Eight. I wasn’t even listening to the podcast in time with my watch-down. I was just sitting there, stunned, trying to make sense of what I was seeing and how I felt about it. And where I landed, before I caught up with Get Anime’d and learned of the cultural reception at the time of Endless Eight’s release, is that it is one of the boldest and most singular pieces of media I have ever seen.
What is the Endless Eight?
**Major spoilers ahead for The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya season one and the Endless Eight arc**
The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya is one of those series that shows how interesting it is by how difficult it is to summarize. Basically, the show (which is based on a series of light novels) asks the question, “What if a headstrong teenage girl tortured by existential questions of what it means and why it matters to be alive was god, but didn’t know it?” Excellent premise, right?
The show has aired in two different ways: broadcast order and chronological order. As you might infer, broadcast order (which is what the creators intended) is out of chronological order. But it’s a successful and fascinating experiment on narrative structure. Unfortunately, Crunchyroll only lists the series in chronological order. Since you absolutely should watch the show in broadcast order, here you go. It’s worth the extra work, I promise.
I bring up the wonky episode order to point out that, when season two rolled out, the team at Kyoto Animation knew they needed to try something new. And they took a big risk—enter the Endless Eight.
Spoilers ahead for Endless Eight arc
The Endless Eight is an arc of (yes) eight episodes, which take place during the last two weeks of August (the eighth month of the year). Haruhi wants to cram all the activities that make up a memorable summer into these two weeks. Relatable.
Haruhi is clearly not satisfied by the end of these two weeks, but the reason for her dissatisfaction alludes even her. And so, subconsciously, she makes the two weeks repeat, throwing the entire world into a time loop. The second episode takes place during the 15,498th repetition—the equivalent of 594 years. Most people are not conscious that time is repeating. But one member of Haruhi’s SOS Brigade, Yuki, remembers all of it.
Sounds interesting so far, right? Here’s the controversial bit: The eight episodes of the Endless Eight vary only slightly in the action they depict. The script is largely the same and covers the same beats in the same order. This has led most viewers to say you’re watching the same episode eight times. But … are you?!
Why the Endless Eight is one of the greatest experiments in TV history
There’s an avant-garde art movement from the 1960s and 70s called Fluxus. The most well-known artist involved in the movement is Yoko Ono. The basic premise of Fluxus is to take mundane actions and celebrate them. You can do that any number of ways, like exaggerating them (putting on lotion next to a microphone—shockingly horrifying) or slowing them way down. I remember seeing one piece where the performer dunked his head into a bowl of water, which was contact mic’d, and we watched and listened until the drops from his hair stopped sounding into the bowl.
The emotional arc for me during these art pieces was fascination, boredom, and then—towards the end—fascination again. This is the exact experience I had watching Endless Eight.
The reaction to the Endless Eight was akin to reactions to the ending of Neon Genesis Evangelion, before The End of Evangelion was made to clarify things. The most extreme reactions were exemplified by the studio getting death threats. But most people were simply upset, frustrated, confused, and/or angry. All of which are perfectly valid reactions to the arc.
Besides the premise, there’s something else you need to understand about the Endless Eight: None of it is recycled episode to episode. And I mean none of it. The animation, the lighting, the shot composition and framing, the character designs (i.e., what they’re wearing), the voice performances—none of it is reused. New pieces of music are introduced every episode, and the placement of the score varies. The ways the Endless Eight differ are not always drastic, but every take on a scene is unique.
For example, one version of the opening scene—where Kyon thinks, “something feels off”—reads remarkably differently if there scene is played in black-and-white with horror-drone-type music, or if it’s played with cutesy slice-of-life music.
This absolutely ridiculous attention to detail is why I think the Endless Eight was not made with malice towards the viewer. There are absolutely pieces of media that seem to be made to “fuck with” the viewer in a kind of undermining way. But you don’t pour eight entire episodes‘ worth of incredibly painstaking, beautiful-looking work—in animation, of all mediums—into something just to fuck with people. I think the Endless Eight was a genuine experiment.
Yes, the Endless Eight is undeniably frustrating to watch. Just as undeniably, it’s astoundingly bold—something the likes of which will never be made again. I would also argue that it is brilliant and a flawed masterpiece, as the best masterpieces are. And I would argue that everyone involved in “the arts,” sonic or visual, should watch it at least once in their lifetime. It is a masterclass on how altering a shot, changing a camera angle, swapping out a piece of music, etc. changes a scene—or, maybe, doesn’t.
You can hate the Endless Eight—that’s totally understandable. But it’s definitely worthy of your respect.
(Image credit: Kyoto Animation)
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