When you watch a romantic comedy anime, who are the most important characters? The leading couple, right? Obviously. These shows tend to be about the process of getting them together so they command much of the focus and are usually drawn with the most detail. But while You and I Are Polar Opposites certainly spends a good chunk of time on the titular opposites (soft-spoken Tani and adorable extrovert Suzuki), it has one of the most delightful wider casts I’ve seen in the genre. Friends are just as valid as a romantic relationship. You and I Are Polar Opposites doesn’t give us a drawn-out “will they/won’t they” process. At the end of the very first episode, Suzuki reveals her feelings to Tani. Heck, she revealed them to her whole class earlier, and luckily, this brand of outburst is received in kind by Tani. By Episode 2, they’re already navigating the ins and outs of dating. But this acceleration should’ve been clear even before the two decided to give it a shot. Director and storyboarder Takayoshi Nagatomo fills the first episode with little vignettes that imply that relationships are constantly in bloom. From two characters noticing one another pass by, to shots of hands nearly brushing, the DNA of the show signifies closeness. The leading lovestruck characters aren’t the only important folks that exist. It’s a world where interaction means something, and we all desire some form of intimacy, platonic or otherwise. The opening, rather than being an abstract representation of the show’s plot, ends up working in tandem with its themes. Kyohei Ishiguro directs it with aplomb — it’s all about the act of seeing and being noticed. The screen regularly morphs from the wide to the vertical, and while at first this seems to be how one character would view another through the camera on their phone, it all adds up to a cast that isn’t just around for the sake of the main narrative. They’re an active part of each other’s days. There is a sense of warmth among them and the bonds feel lived-in. Yamada, a back-slapping teen with a penchant for asking to copy Tani’s homework, could easily feel as if he burst from the stock side character supply closet to add bits of comic relief. Instead, he’s openly treated as a part of the group despite his eccentricities. The same goes for Suzuki. She and her friends tease one another, but we’re never shown that her outspoken ways have made her an outcast. Instead, they are a side of the puzzle that she fits into. They know her quirks, they know her strengths, and they enjoy her presence for them. These people have been around each other for a long time, and even the way the teens interact with the teachers indicates experience and esteem. It does the heavy-lifting in a genre that typically devotes its early portions to character place-setting, and it allows You and I Are Polar Opposites to indulge in rapid stylistic shifts without losing its hold on the tone. For example, Suzuki rarely thinks or talks in rote melodrama. Instead, her moods are expressed through morphing forms, and we come to find actual verisimilitude in that range instead of it just being a go-to punchline. These cartoon shapeshifts provide a surprising degree of earnestness to the reality of being a teenager. Who hasn’t been in high school and felt that their emotions were too big for their body? Suzuki, in her fluffy or gremlin shapes, is oddly relatable. The writing encourages this method, and litters in-jokes and repeated references throughout. In the third episode, in which a great deal of the story is devoted to Taira attempting to dissect his feelings on the high school’s “social hierarchy” in both his dialogue and his inner monologue, he’s interrupted by teases and the concern of others. They don’t exist in a vacuum but rather in an ecosystem of personalities. When all combined, it gives the energy of a place that’s alive. Don’t get me wrong, You and I Are Polar Opposites is a romantic comedy about a loud girl and a quiet boy and how they find their way into each other’s hearts. It is filled with meet-cutes, misunderstandings and copious blushing cheeks. But it’s also about how much fun it is to venture outside of the bubble and check out the spectrum of faces and voices around you. At the end of Episode 3, Suzuki finds herself a little bit jealous by the way that Tani’s friends make him smile, but that’s for the best! No man (or anime couple) is an island. Let them find more hands to hold.
