Romance vs. Relatability in “Kiss Him, Not Me!”
Fujoshi are a subsection of otaku who enjoy media, particularly manga and anime, that depicts homosexual relationships between men, even though they are largely heterosexual women. In “Doing Manga as Leisure and Its Meaning and Purpose,” the authors propose that one factor contributing to the fujoshi’s enjoyment is their replacement reading of these relationships. This replacement reading accomplishes two things: it creates a space in which the fujoshi is “free from unequal gender relations with men, and the subordination that inequality produces”, and it allows the fujoshi to “develop sexual subjectivities” in which “women are neither objectified nor sexualized”. This is not to say that fujoshi fully reject gendered dynamics, such as the pairing of an ‘active’ character with a ‘passive’ character, but there is a clear desire for these dynamics to be divorced from real-life inequalities. As such, fujoshi seem to be less interested in or concerned with female protagonists, who are often designed and sexualized to fit the ‘male gaze’ that these women are attempting to escape from. Yet any media that attempts to involve fujoshi as part of the narrative must inherently depict a female protagonist, and often one that fits conventional beauty standards as determined by said male gaze. The anime Kiss Him, Not Me features a fujoshi in a reverse-harem scenario, i.e. a woman pursued by multiple men. As such, this anime must walk a fine line between presenting the protagonist, Kae Serinuma, as both a relatable, male-gaze-rejecting fujoshi, and a desirable romantic lead appropriate for her genre. This duality creates an identity crisis for the main character, typical to anime that depict otaku lifestyles, as she is expected to hide her fujoshi self in favor of her romantic self. However, rather than simply using this identity crisis as conflict, Kiss Him, Not Me makes an effort to bring these two aspects of Kae’s character together in both narrative and form. Kiss Him, Not Me establishes specific patterns of stillness vs. motion and flat vs. open compositing to depict two different aspects of Kae’s identity, then manipulates its own patterns to merge both aspects as her story progresses.
Early on, Kiss Him, Not Me establishes that fantasy, particularly fantasy involving romance and desirability, is associated with stillness and a specific kind of flat compositing. Kae starts the series as a plus size high school fujoshi who is constantly fantasizing about romantic interactions between boys. When Kae has an inner monologue about her fujoshi tendencies, the audience is shown a montage of men interacting with each other. These men are shown in flat, still images, where the men are interacting with the environment but the only movement comes from the camera panning across the scene. They are interspersed with close-ups of the men in flat compositions surrounded by a sparkling background and accompanied with twinkling sound effects, representing how Kae’s fantasies are divorced from reality. The male romantic leads exist in a similar fashion when Kae is speaking to or interacting with them: the realistic backgrounds fade into a flat close-up shot with colorful sparkles, with the character in a still pose, only moving his mouth. In contrast, movement and open compositing are associated with reality. Whenever Kae and any other characters are experiencing the world in a conventional manner, they retain their movement (at least, relative to the limited animation style used by the show) and are shown through open compositing, with a clear foreground, midground, and background that creates a consistent sense of a contained, grounded world. The show continually reinforces this pattern throughout the rest of the series, keeping a consistent indicator of fantasy and romance that is separated from the rest of the characters’ existence.
When Kae undergoes a sudden transformation, the form reflects her transition into the realm of romance, yet the show is careful not to let this transformation become the central focus. Kae loses weight after the death of her favorite anime character, drastically altering her appearance. The first time the audience and Kae herself witness her new ‘skinny form’, Kae is depicted in motion with open compositing, grounding her in the world around her. There is a still image of her new face in the mirror which mimics the way attractive/romantic men are depicted, but the background remains realistic and the sound design is that of a devastating dramatic reveal rather than a daydream. When Kae goes to school the next day, the established indicator of fantasy and romance finally reappears: the camera pans over her still form as she stands in the doorway and the realism-based closed compositing fades away into flat compositing with a colorful, sparkling background. The show cuts to a panning shot of Kae’s classmates; these are the people who have turned Kae into an object of fantasy, when previously, she had turned others into objects of fantasy. However, the show quickly re-centers on Kae’s perspective, maintaining her relatability as her attractive form is suddenly minimized and her stillness is broken when she rushes to talk to her friend. Her classmates continue to react to her, making her briefly still and sparkling once more until she runs away crying. In that moment when she is running, her thoughts are only on her favorite anime character, reinforcing her disinterest in the desirability forced on her.
The midpoint between the two established states of fantasy vs. reality is comedy, as the show often uses the disconnect between Kae’s thoughts and experiences for humor. For instance, in the first episode, Kae and her friend Amane are depicted in flat compositing with an emphasis on movement when they discuss their fantasies about their two male classmates, Igarashi and Nanashima, being in a relationship. Their forms are simplified and animated such that, compared to other dialogue scenes, a much larger portion of their heads and bodies move when they talk, emphasizing their liveliness and personal investment; to them, this is their normal life. At the same time, the shot is depicted with flat compositing that brings the characters’ emotions and energy to the foreground. Additionally, the abstract, gently moving backgrounds show how their conversation is removed from reality. The combination of open compositing and stillness is used in a parallel fashion for other kinds of comedic scenes. When Kae is on a group date with the male leads in the latter half of the episode, she is continually distracted from her ‘normal’ act by her various otaku and fujoshi urges. She fixates on interactions between the boys, causing her to become completely still while she stares at them, even as the rest of the world moves around her. The use of open compositing in these scenes shows that she is still experiencing ‘real life’, but her stillness emphasizes the fact that she is failing to ‘properly’ engage with those around her. The vacillation between stillness/movement and flatness/openness becomes increasingly sporadic as the date continues, depicting Kae’s emotional state as she struggles to find a balance between her conflicting urges to stay present and indulge in her fantasies.
When Kae is empowered to act as her true self, her existences converge on each other. At the end of the group date in the first episode, Kae gives in to her impulse to buy a body pillow with her favorite anime character on it. When she steps out of the store holding the body pillow, she is initially depicted in shadow, as the stark contrast between the bright store interior and the dark exterior makes the open compositing even more obvious. Next, there is a slow panning shot as she stands facing the camera, similar to the first shot that emphasized her desirability. Yet rather than being fully still, her clothes and hair sway in the wind, imbuing her with life in opposition to the stillness of the body pillow. She is shown against a bright, shimmering background that ‘feels’ similar to what is shown in flat compositing, but it is obvious that the open compositing remains when we see her hair swirling around in front of and behind the pillow. She is in real life and indulging in fantasy; she is sincere and comedic; she is a desired object and a desiring fujoshi.
The show continues to play with the ways Kae is depicted throughout the rest of the show, further complicating and merging her identities. Midway through Episode 5, the supporting characters are stunned to find that Kae has regained the weight she lost in the first episode, returning to her original ‘chubby form’. At first, the show pulls the kind of disrespectful gags one might expect, relying on flat compositing and wide shot compositions with simplified character art and exaggerated voice acting to show the rest of the cast reacting to Kae’s appearance in shock, disgust, or amusement. Yet throughout the rest of the episode, the show gradually returns to treating Kae’s ‘chubby form’ the same as her ‘skinny form’. Most notably, during a private conversation with Igarashi, Kae’s ‘chubby form’ is depicted in a shimmery close-up shot identical to the kind used to signal her desirability in previous episodes, with two notable exceptions. First, Kae is shown in a side profile, directing her gaze away from the audience and signaling that she is making no effort to appeal to the audience or Igarashi in this scene. Second, rather than merely panning over an unmoving image of her, her hair is once again fully animated swaying in the breeze, imbuing her with a sense of life that is often absent from her desirability-focused shots. The shot fades into a close-up of Igarashi’s eye, then pulls out to reveal his stunned, blushing expression. Kae is literally reflected in the male gaze; the audience understands that Igarashi has gained a new perspective of Kae, and his affection for her is only deepened. The convergence of desirability imagery and animated liveliness with Kae’s ‘chubby form’ conveys to the audience that Kae has been, and always will be, the same character, regardless of her physical appearance.
Originally published on May 24, 2024 for the class "History of Japanese Animation" at the University of Chicago.
