During its North American premiere at Anime Expo, I was sold on “The Summer Hikaru Died” by the second scene of the show. As Hikaru (Shūichirō Umeda, “The Dawn of the Witch”) and Yoshiki (Chiaki Kobayashi, “Jigokurraku”) banter on a sweltering summer day, Yoshiki works up the courage to ask, “You ain’t the real Hikaru, are you?” Hikaru’s human guise slips, revealing a grotesque monster underneath, and he tearfully begs Yoshiki not to tell anyone else about his true identity. Shockingly, Yoshiki accepts, deciding that even if the person in front of him isn’t really Hikaru, Yoshiki still needs Hikaru by his side. What could be the dramatic climax of one or multiple episodes is instead the inciting incident of the pilot. In the first few minutes, this scene perfectly conveys the major themes of the story; “The Summer Hikaru Died” seamlessly blends genres to tell a tale of tender love and heart-wrenching grief.
Set in a small town in the Mie Prefecture of Japan, “The Summer Hikaru Died” follows Yoshiki and Hikaru as they navigate their daily lives while unnatural forces begin to coalesce around their town. The real Hikaru is long dead — his last moments are shown to us in the first minute of the show — and in his place is Hikaru, whose unnatural presence in the town sets off a chain of events involving both human and inhuman actors.
Ghosts are real in the show, yet much of what happens in the first episode occurs within Yoshiki’s internal world. Rattled by the revelation of Hikaru’s fate, Yoshiki struggles against his conscience, unsure about what he should do concerning Hikaru. This internal conflict allows for psychological horror to seep into the paranormal; Yoshiki is unwell, and keeping Hikaru’s identity a secret while also mourning his friend is taking a toll on his mind. When Yoshiki begins to see red and hear voices, how do we know what is real and what isn’t? Is he being assaulted by a spirit, or just faltering under the weight of his guilt and grief? Even when the paranormal aspects are front and center, the show does not resort to cheap jumpscares. Instead, the horror elements are subdued and eerie, creating an oppressive atmosphere. At times, these supernatural elements almost become a relief from Yoshiki’s unraveling psyche.
The horror in “The Summer Hikaru Died” doesn’t just come from the existence of ghosts or Yoshiki’s deteriorating mental state; Hikaru’s relationship with Yoshiki forces us to grapple with the implications of the supernatural on an interpersonal level. Hikaru and Yoshiki share a tender and warm bond, which can be read as romantic. The two boys explore intimacy with each other, both platonic and physical. But Yoshiki knows that the person he liked is dead, gone forever. He’s frozen in his grief, unable to process Hikaru’s death healthily — his doppelgänger haunts Yoshiki day-in-day-out. In many ways, Yoshiki is stuck in life — trapped in a decaying rural town, forced to live with parents who hate each other and saddled with chronic illness.
Having Hikaru around clearly isn’t healthy for him, but it’s one of the only things he has going for him in life. Why should Yoshiki give up the person he loves, even if they aren’t real? Our fear of the unknown, epitomized by Hikaru’s true form, is complicated by our desire to see Yoshiki happy. And in turn, every tender moment between the two boys is made uncomfortable and strange by the understanding that what they have is unsustainable and will lead to deeper sorrow later on.
What helps sell this impending tragedy is how the show takes a divergent route from its source material: What was an abrupt and somewhat unwanted exposition dump in the manga becomes a B-plot that helps add depth to the first few episodes. Tanaka (Chikahiro Kobayashi, “Beastars”), a shady exorcist who was initially introduced in the manga during its second volume, takes a prominent role in the first episode. Immediately, Hikaru’s disappearance is given layers that were not visible until much further into the manga; was Hikaru involved in occult practices before he passed? Was this a sudden occurrence, or does the town have a history of spirit worship? This layer of mystery moves the other parts of the narrative forward and creates unexpected dilemmas for the viewer. Do we want Yoshiki to find out the truth about Hikaru’s passing, or just try to move on and live a normal life? Should we root for Hikaru because he can bring Yoshiki happiness? The conflict of interest within the viewer highlights the wonderful complexity of “The Summer Hikaru Died” and what makes it engaging.
“The Summer Hikaru Died” is remarkably deep, and the show understands how to make even the mundane aspects of life tense and uncomfortable. Already an impressive debut of a manga, if the show continues to further enhance the already great narrative, “The Summer Hikaru Died” will be one of Netflix’s most successful anime collaborations to date.
Daily Arts Writer Nicolas Eisenberg can be reached at niceisen@umich.edu.
