The World is Dancing – Episode 1

Content considerations: A dad who belittles and throws things at his kid; talk of famine and war (though nothing is shown except bones).

What’s it about? Oniyasha is the son of a well-regarded theatre troupe leader and dancer in 14th-century Kyoto, but his father’s strict tutelage has left him resentful towards the art of dance. When he stumbles upon a woman dancing alone, unfettered by rigid rules, Oniyasha feels enthralled. Why do people dance, and what makes a dance “good”? He’s not sure yet, but he’s inspired to find out.

---

Much of this premiere seems centered on hooking a modern audience by finding the familiar within the unfamiliar. Set during the early Muromachi period (a time of sporadic civil wars and general social unrest), this series follows a sarugaku theatre troupe (something of a variety show containing both formalized dances and comedic acts) who have managed to thrive despite the chaotic times. More specifically, it follows Oniyasha, an 11-year-old boy who will one day grow up to be Zeami (a major figure in the development of Noh theatre, whose classic plays are still performed today).

As all those explanatory parentheticals suggest, this is Historical Fiction with a capital History. It’s also a very different world from the modern one, even for a Japanese audience. Still, this premiere never feels truly inaccessible because the central characters and conflict all feel familiar—arguably to a fault. 

Our young protagonist, 11-year-old Oniyasha, is the son of the Kanze Troupe’s leader, Kan’ami. Boss Dad is a popular performer who’s good to his troupe members: while not exactly warm, he keeps everyone safe, fed, and clothed, is accommodating to a disabled troupe member, and generally seems to be well-liked and respected.

You will be just shocked to learn that Boss Dad is significantly less good to his son. He’s overly strict and critical, especially during dance practice, constantly chewing out Oniyasha and telling him he’s “not formed to dance.” He saves Oniyasha from a horse, but then later throws a turtle fastball-style at his son’s head because Oniyasha zoned out and interrupted the performance. (Hey parents, don’t throw turtles at your kids!) I suppose for the time period he’s not doing half-bad, but from a modern perspective, dude kinda sucks.

As a result of his father’s harsh treatment and the troupe’s expectations, Oniyasha has no interest in dance. He sneaks away whenever he can and spends much of the episode wondering why people dance at all. His friends offer explanations—that dance helps people “get out” their feelings or that it feels like “the world changes” while watching someone dance—but none of it resonates with him. To Oniyasha, dance is a chore and a reminder of his own shortcomings.

Muromachi theatre setting aside, much of this episode is pretty textbook “father-son family business drama,” to the point where the characters sometimes feel more like archetypes than people. I suspect this is intentional, to give the audience something to grasp while they get their bearings in the historical context, but I found myself wishing the interpersonal dynamics felt as fresh as the setting and premise. It’s an odd feeling to have a series center on such a unique topic and still feel a bit like “been there, done that.”

Fortunately, The World is Dancing does a lot of its most notable storytelling through its presentation: Oniyasha imagines a loving father with his sons in wistful storybook sketches, conveying a longing that his words do not; landscapes are dotted with ruined homes and skeletons, perpetual scars from the recent wars. And boy howdy, does this focus on presentation take center stage in the final act.

You will perhaps be unsurprised to learn that our young protagonist discovers that “hang on, I might love dance after all,” thanks to an inspiring performance from a mysterious stranger. It’s a common plot beat that the animation team elevates to absolute artistry.

This entire episode looks very nice—bright and expressive, with fluid character animation—but it explodes into something truly special during the final act when Oniyasha stumbles on a woman dancing in the dark. It’s the exact opposite of his father’s rigid, formal dances performed for an audience’s enjoyment, showcasing raw emotion, visceral and impassioned, performed for nobody but herself, solely for the sake of expressing herself.

The art style unravels accordingly, shifting from structured anime stylings into a sketchy abstract, all smeared lines and blurred limbs, colors giving way to charcoal. It’s a brilliant way to convey the dance, as well as why it appeals so strongly to Oniyasha. It’s the kind of emotional expression that only animation can achieve, and it does so stunningly.

It feels notable that the dancer is a woman in an era where women have been largely pushed out of public spaces (you may have noticed this premiere is utterly lacking in named female characters). It feels notable that Oniyasha finds this form of dance “good” and struggles to understand what he means by that or what makes a dance “good” versus not.

Mostly, though, it feels like The World is Dancing is reaching towards something a bit less familiar than its opening scenes suggested—or at the very least, that it’s going to present those familiar storylines in new and interesting ways, with visual panache in spades. And given that it’s adapted from a completed 6-volume manga, we’re almost certainly getting a full, gorgeous adaptation with this one.

Historical fiction and stories about performance art are easy sells for me, so with that finale, The World is Dancing has fully sunk in its hooks. Familiar plot beats and all, you’ve got me coming back for more.