Alternative title(s): 20 Seiki Denki Mokuroku
Light Novel Adaptation by Kyoto Animation
Streaming on Netflix

Premise

In an alternate history Kyoto where electricity still fails to outpace steam power by the start of the 20th century, tinkerer Kihachi Sakamoto crosses paths with the gullible Inako Momokawa, whose family has come into the possession of Kichachi’s missing brother’s journal. Within the pages of this catalog, secrets are contained that could spark a scientific revolution — but our heroes are not the only ones who have realized its significance…

Aqua’s verdict: Won’t Set the World On Fire

There are many aspects of Kyoto Animation’s production process to be lauded and admired. Their staunch insistence on only adapting works with strong, pre-existing ties to their organization is not one of them. The idea of getting to hand-pick a novel to adapt from a proprietary contest bringing together the publishing industry’s brightest might sound good on paper, but so far this approach has left the most prestigious animation studio this side of Ghibli with material only a few notches above the lousy drafts written by first-time authors hoping to strike it big you’d find on Shousetsuka ni Narou, the infamous outlet for self-publication that is all but singlehandedly responsible for driving the final nail in the coffin of the idea that success and talent are directly proportional. Sparks of Tomorrow is the latest of Kyoto Animation’s shows to be adapted from a work submitted to a contest organized by its publishing branch, but like duds like Myriad Colors: Phantom World or Beyond the Boundary before it, the usual pristine visual flair the studio provides is simply not worth the inherent vapidity of the source material.

I’ll give Sparks of Tomorrow this — it seems like it was written specifically to appeal to Kyoto Animation’s talents. The setting, an alternate-history version of the studio’s hometown around the turn of the (20th) century, allows its animators and background artists to flaunt their immaculate eye for detail, serving astonishing smoke-clad vistas and lushly choreographed scenes of mechanical perfection the likes of which only the patient artisans that previously brought Violet Evergrarden’s mechanical limbs to life can deliver. Your mileage may vary on some of the artistic choices the show makes — Iro made the convincing argument that the show’s refusal to actually commit to its washed-out watercolor look, covering most scenes in plumes of dubiously computer-generated steam, makes the show look cheaper than it actually is — but the world design itself, a unique blend between classic steampunk aesthetics and a heavily idealized version of the Meiji era of Japanese history, is an absolute smash hit.

Unfortunately, Sparks of Tomorrow is not nearly as enjoyable to watch as it is to look at. For as much use as it makes of Kyoto Animation’s talents, it also happily caters to the studio’s worst impulses, carting out yet another teamup between a brilliant, but sardonic young boy and a comically inept, but energetic female sidekick whose unwavering dedication to believing in his cause drags him out of his shell — whether he wants to or not! It’s a dynamic we’ve seen over and over again in the studio’s works, going all the way back to their origins as purveyors of primo otaku fodder à la Clannad or The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Kihachi and Inako are just Rikka and Yuta or Chitanda and Oreki all over again: the oh-so-resonable average Joe rolling his eyes at the audience as his blustering sidekick concocts yet another hare-brained scheme. “Never forget where you came from” is an admirable creed to follow, I suppose, but for a studio with the clear ambition to compete with Miyazaki and co. to continue to wag teenage edgelords who desperately need women to idolize them despite the belief that women are incapable of mentally aging beyond the age of six, in shows that otherwise look so prestigious they make HBO look like YouTube, is just kind of pathetic.

The issue with Sparks of Tomorrow goes further than the main characters, though. The whole thing just reeks of light novel contrivance, from the secrets to global revolution being sealed away in a random hot guy’s hastily scribbled journal to the myriad irrelevant cameos by supporting cast members who only appear to give viewers a sneak peek of the single character quirk the audience’ll be beaten over the head with once they’re properly introduced. It results in a pilot that has both everything and nothing happening at the same time, so totally inconsistent it will leave you with no real impression of the kind of story you’ll be watching, let alone a glimpse at any themes beyond the most fundamental building blocks of a narrative. A pair of unlikely heroes and an all-powerful object coveted by malicious forces, that is all you’ll get! What do you mean, you’re going to need a little bit more in a season with over 40 new shows to watch?

No character embodies this utter lack of coherence better than this pilot’s — and hopefully not the entire show’s — main antagonist. Yosuke Mizoe, the foppish heir to a steam power empire who will stop at nothing to get his hands on Kihachi’s secrets and Inako’s hand in marriage is at once supposed to be a destabilizing threat to the latter’s beleaguered family and an obnoxious buffoon fresh out of the Wile E. Coyote Academy for Comically Ineffective Pursuit, and the ways in which bringing these facets of the character together just does not work has to be seen to be believed. In theory, I’d be all for Kyoto Animation trying to blur the lines between its cinematic impulses and it’s obvious knack for riotous goofs à la Nichijou or CITY: The Animation, but this first attempt is a lousy one, undercutting any goodwill to take Sparks of Tomorrow seriously as the high-stakes, inspirational adventure it purports to be.

While its visuals continue to push boundaries, then, Sparks of Tomorrow is hardly a revolution. Like so many adaptations of “honorable mentions” in Kyoto Animation’s contest before it, the cinematic craftsmanship on display is enjoyable on a superficial level, but is ultimately undercut by writing that feels decades out of date, woefully unfit to support the visual flair and evocative imagery the talent working on it provides. Pretty ironic for a show about progress and revolution to be stuck perpetuating the sins of its forebears, you could argue, but then again — isn’t the studio bringing this onto itself by continuing to blow millions of yen on adapting material that hasn’t even proven itself just because they happen to own the publishing rights?

Oh, okay. I see what’s going on now. Damn.