Despite encapsulating the cultural zeitgeist of the twenty-tens reflecting ubiquitous anxieties of a generation lost in the annals of listlessness and apathy, fandom as this collective whole has turned its back on a series that once cast a mirror up to them. Lyrics of an emblematic anthem bursting with imagination, “a lifetime moratorium” invites reflection like no other speaking to a generation lingering in stasis – much like the cast of Osomatsu-san, in fact. A technicolour sextet that quickly gained infamy as a result of their absconding from employment, the feckless Matsuno brothers amble through the dingy haze of their twenties, lost in hedonistic pursuits and enduring a form of prolonged adolescence. It quietly reflects the failures of a nation’s turbulence and notoriously strenuous work culture, mischievous monochromatic children from the ‘60s reaching maturity in our era unsure of where to turn.

Job centres send them shuffling out the door, receiving little if any guidance so instead turn to quick-rich schemes that are played off with a level of comedic ease. Perhaps it is all too appropriate that such a black swan of a series would scuttle off into the dingy corners of the industry almost as soon as it appeared, enthusiasm having risen to a fever pitch with embers profusely doused. Towards the end of the second season’s first cour, as I write this Osomatsu-san appears to be holding on for dear life, struggling to maintain relevancy within an increasingly fickle industry where the tide can change instantaneously.

And yet the show appears to be doing little to combat that aimlessness, persisting through its model of repetitive, drawn-out gags that only prove to be mildly amusing at the best of times, just good enough. Osomatsu-san has found solace in mediocrity and the downy comforts of consumerism, no longer willing to take chances as it gleefully indulges in a fandom purchasing misshapen merchandise for exorbitant prices, fangirls slobbering all over potato-shaped garbage boys. Although I have not spoken much about Osomatsu-san on this blog, despite the bitterness seeping through every line of this 12 Days of Anime entry I would consider it one of my favourite series, friends similarly bemused at my enduring fervour and letting me know whenever something exciting has happened. It’s “humanity’s final gimmick”, after all. Something different. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

As someone that closely follows merchandise routes, it would not be an exaggeration to state that a new illustration surfaces every single week with several pieces of merchandise soon following, from acrylic keychains to clear files. Quality control is of concern, Osomatsu-san merchandise being an empire of its own with the casual purveyor at a genuine loss for there is simply too much available. Not too long ago, I browsed Yahoo! Auctions with my eyes set on keyrings produced with its mobile game Hesokuri Wars in mind (specifically, of unburnable trash personified Ichimatsu wearing a delightful Madoka Magica inspired get-up). I immediately encountered a dizzying number of listings featuring character goods, lost in a sea of purple and blue. The vast majority of photos were littered with individual designs, possibly eclipsing the seventy, eighty item count from a quick scan.

But I digress. If Osomatsu-san wants to earn back its reputation as the propulsive powerhouse of 2015, that “final gimmick”, it simply must do better. The second season’s premiere started promisingly as a delightfully irreverent display of indulgence, acknowledging its curious position within the industry as Iyami and Chibita assumed the role of those baffled at people that would dare harbour a degree of affection for unattractive, decidedly repellent designs paired with character traits written with the more destructive facets of NEETdom in mind.

It similarly exploited mixed media techniques, CG and real life people existing seamlessly reminiscent of Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei at its most frenetic. Bolstered by the runaway success of the first season, for a moment – just a moment, mind – I entertained the idea of every episode being on par with the magnificent sakuga meta-fest that was Iyami’s Counterattack.

After all, within the context of the Osomatsuniverse canon is fluid, designed to be corrupted. And yet the show quickly stumbled back into stasis, all mildly amusing skits as I waited for something, anything to happen. I wanted more incisive comments regarding the state of the industry, further reflections of the show’s curious reputation as a national treasure-cum-disgrace. More absurd mixed media techniques at home with arthouse aestheticism, daring and unusual. More piercing looks into the disturbing stasis the brothers have entered and the developmental ramifications.

More about the drastic gulf between ‘60s idealism and ‘00s ennui. Just as the first opening spoke of a “lifetime moratorium”, “moratorium” similarly referring to a type of temporary job-hopper that isn’t ready to earnestly enter the workforce in Japanese society, it seems as if the franchise has itself slipped into one with its languor pervasive.

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