Kaleido Star

My wings are my dream, and on towards the sky!

Whatever happened to the old classic story about kids running away from home to join the circus? Is it because we've replaced the concept of happy clowns with scary ones (thanks a fucking lot, Stephen King)? Or because we're now wiser to the ways in which circuses exploit "freaks" and animals? Maybe we're just extra leary about the concept of children running away and being put to work in a world where child labor laws exist (well, not including Republicans, of course).

Kaleido Star is an anime that brings back the JOYFUL nature of circus performers, asking us to remember what it's like to feel entranced by the magic of the stage.

She dances so light, that you'd think she's made of cream whip.

Our spunky young protagonist is a young girl named Sora who - quite literally - runs away from home to join the circus, armed only with her natural talent for acrobatics, unfathomable determination, and childlike naivete. The show focuses on Sora and her fellow performers training hard to master not only the impossible and death-defying moves they need to pull off for the spectacular shows they put on, but also how to make their performances appealing to the audience. It's a story that walks a delicate balance between being very technically skilled and expressing artistic integrity.

It's not enough to be GOOD at something, you have to understand your intention behind it.

Sora spends most of the show going from Zero to Hero by proving she can dedicate herself to learning complex maneuvers and routines. In many ways, the whole thing feels like a series of training arcs, but unlike most action show training arcs, the goal isn't to master a new technique and become strong enough to face your next challenge. In Kaleido Star, the goal is to understand what makes this new technique so important to the role Sora is playing on stage, and how it relates to her and her relationship with her fellow performers. Each move is as much a feat of strength as it is one of acting.

When two girls love each other very much and get in a sword fight to unleash each other's inner passion, we call that "femslash".

In between mastering new skills and overcoming the challenges of running a high budget show that often gets threats of cancellation thanks to the divas in the cast, Sora's biggest struggle is figuring out what exactly she WANTS out of being a performer. She knows she loves the stage, and wants to recreate the magic she experienced as a kid the first time she saw a show. But how do you recreate that when your job is a constant fight over who gets which role and whether someone is worthy enough to be your partner?

Speaking of partners, this show is a lot gayer than it seems on the surface. It's beautiful.

There's a lot of what feels like unnecessary drama and tension in this show - typically caused by one of the Big Name Performers being an absolute diva - but it does all serve a purpose. The drama helps bring out the important question of WHY everyone performs on a stage to begin with. It underscores Sora's development as not just a highly skilled acrobat, but a genuine and heartful performer who perfectly understands her relationship with her audience. It's a nice theme to round out a story that otherwise spends a ridiculous amount of time on training.

When two girls hate each other very much and one crashes into the other's crotch while practicing ice skating, we call that "Yuri On Ice".

Anyway, on a lighter note: clowns. I absolutely fucking DESPISE the creepy clown trope, because it's been done to death and has taken over the entire public face of what should honestly be seen as one of the happiest and most joyful types of performers on this planet. Clowns are good people with an impressive array of highly specific skills, not weird creepy murderers with sinister laughs and demented Joker-wannabe personalities. Real clowns are joyful, colorful, lovable goofballs, and to quote a particularly famous clown from a movie about dinosaurs (yeah, you know the one): "In case you're wondering why I'm talking, and they're laughing? Lemme explain it to you. THAT'S! COMEDY!"

Anna the clown is easily the best character on the show, and it's not even close.

Final thoughts? Even though I'm generally disinterested in training arcs as a story element, I enjoyed Kaleido Star. A good mix of light-hearted fun peppered with occasional drama that never really got too annoying, since it served a nice underlying story about intentions, passion, and working together to achieve everyone's dreams. Sometimes you just want a break from gripping edgy realism in favor of some cute fluff, and that's exactly what Kaleido Star delivers.

This gif doesn't add anything to the review, I just wanted to post it because it cracks me the fuck up.