What Made Lucky Star's Anime So Iconic

No other anime ever captured its era's zeitgeist the way otaku, for otaku, and all about otaku, adorned with as many zany, off-the-wall references, and in-jokes as possible, all guaranteed to make any Akihabara denizen's face flush with giddiness. Referential humor is no stranger in the world of comedy, but rarely has it been done with as much mirth.

Here are the things everybody will tell you right off the bat: sharing the same voice actress as Haruhi helps the Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya references blend ever so seamlessly into the background. And that all-time philosophical dilemma, what on Earth is the proper way to eat a choco cornet? But more than anything, it is those memories of experiencing Lucky Star during that special period of time that makes it so appealing.

The Rise of a Moe Phenomenon
It was the tail-end of 2003 when Kagami Yoshimzu saw his original Lucky Star manga first published in Nintendo DS spin-off games and some audio dramas.

But things really kicked off when The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya's runaway success, Kyoto Animation made the keen decision to try its hand at another otaku bait show. While Lucky Star never matched Haruhi's success, it proved to be an important first step in maintaining Kyoto Animation's reputation following the Haruhi boom.

A lot of the anime's success is owed to Kyoto Animation marketing it in a similar vein as Haruhi Suzumiya. Its catchy OP “Motteke! Sailor Fuku” was a dead giveaway, complete with a dance number visually akin to Haruhi's famous “Hare Hare Yukai.” OP composer Bakemonogatari's OP.

Also, similar to Haruhi was how Kyoto Animation found Lucky Star marketable enough to warrant a K-ON! girls only dreamed of playing. And for a rock and roll junkie like me, it's every bit as legendary as Cheap Trick at Budokan.

Lucky Star would parade through Akihabara's streets, with the art of Konata's crew Postcards inspired by Haruhi Suzumiya had Konata's gang do the “Hare Hare Yukai” pose, but my absolute favorites are the Macross Frontier-themed figurines. I'm partially biased here because I own two of them.

The anime and its unapologetic embrace of all things otaku would make a cult hero out of sell a whopping 1.8 million copies, Yoshimizu's hometown of Satte City took advantage of his newfound celebrity by transforming his childhood house into a museum, modeling it after Konata's own house, and filling it to the brim with school books, manga, and--because why the Hell not--sailor suits. A year later, Konata and her family would be ed as honorary citizens.

Most famous of all has to be the real-life Washinomiya Shrine featured in the OP and a handful of episodes. Chances are you might have even known about the shrine before you even read this article. Still, it can't be overstated how much of a holy otaku mecca it has become. The town has held many events there, with some of them being held by the cast and staff themselves, and it's still as brightly clad with Lucky Star merch and fanart as ever.

Lucky Star Was A Meme Goldmine
Also similar to Haruhi Suzumiya was how Lucky Star's success was based on its existence as a viral Internet sensation. The Nico Nico Dougans who had ed viral videos of themselves doing the Haruhi dance were now ing remix videos of Konata saying “Timotei” and Tsukasa jamming out to retro Nintendo tunes on the recorder. If you were a fledgling American otaku like I was, chances are your first encounter with Lucky Star was through the power of the Internet, and may or may not have provided you with the watershed moment you realized that anime was more than power levels and burly dudes throwing hands.

Lucky Star's surprise success within the Western online community generated ample opportunity for memers to get creative. Because moe was still something of a foreign concept, they felt the need to juxtapose the series' unique cuteness with their own brand of bizarre, wacky humor. The result was...hilarious, to say the least. For those of you who lurked on gaming and anime forums between 2007 and 2011, you know exactly what I'm talking about. And you best believe Ya Boi™ was on-that-ish.

Does Lucky Star Hold Up Today?

Kyoto Animation was the right studio for the job, further proving their mastery at crafting slices of life. Lucky Star's dialogue-driven humor makes it about as nichijou-kei as nichijou-kei gets, forgoing any semblance of cartoonish absurdity in favor of dry and witty banter. Even as it wanders between the trivial and banal, Lucky Star never makes any of these exchanges dull.

Perhaps one of the best examples of this is in the anime's twelfth episode, right when Konata, Tsukasa, and Kagami go to Comiket. The episode's visuals frame Comiket as a foreboding, mighty fortress, one that can only be penetrated by the most elite of otaku. And it just so happens that Konata is one of them. When she instructs Kagami and Tsukasa how to navigate Comiket, it's with a tone that drips with urgency and importance. Seeing Konata take things to such extremes is one of the show's most hilarious moments--not just for its absurdity, but because (let's face it) a lot of us are guilty of having done the same.

Later on, we have a scene of two card dealers duking it out at a booth. The referential humor here shines--the one dealer looks like Domon from G-Gundam, while the other faintly resembles Kyon from Haruhi Suzumiya. As an additional layer of comedic depth, both of these characters are voiced by the same seiyuu who portray the very characters they are parodying. Their epic squabble over collecting cards is played for obvious laughs, but never mean-spiritedly so. If anything, it reveals how sacred a place Comiket is to its visitors, as well as the intense dedication otaku has toward their hobbies. Even as it parodies all aspects of anime and otaku culture, Lucky Star never strays from the idea that anime is a very, very serious thing.

What makes the show's scenes so memorable is how well they color the characters' personalities. Many TV series and movies have characters spewing out expository dialogue to benefit the plot but do nothing to make the audience relate to them. Lucky Star instead eschews plot and exposition in favor of focusing on the characters' interests and perspectives, allowing for a conversational plainness that feels genuine. People have said that these conversations make it “the Seinfeld of anime”. However, with their addictive dialogue, entertaining everydayness, and references that evoke a rather contemporary sense of nostalgia, I have the wild theory that Lucky Star has more in common with Pulp Fiction. But that's a story for another time.

Comparisons to was to Studio GAINAX what Lucky Star was to Kyoto Animation. The key difference rests in their display of otaku culture. Whereas the characters that occupy Otaku no Video are subjected to varying degrees of scorn, societal rejection, and self-loathing, Lucky Star's characters gleefully bask in the redemptive glow of their own geekiness. I'm sure that seeing Konata's unabashed otaku-ness inspired a spark of otaku pride within us back in the day. It's a pride that still resonates today and a testament to the show's staying power.

I have seen Lucky Star many times, my sixth time being this year. After so many viewings, I have to concede that it was never the revolutionary slice of life that is in my head, and appears a little creaky at times. The animation is earnestly flat and its 4-koma stylings have aged a bit. Lucky Star is not what I would call a “timeless” anime, but maybe it's better that way. Like an old period piece, its charm still invokes a sense of sentimentality, and I will forever credit it for pushing me further down the anime rabbit hole.

Lucky Star gloriously lives on as a product of its time, packed with a strong sense of otaku pride that gets stronger with every ing moment. Its humor and gags have made it the subject of analysis and parody, as well as infinite fodder for shippers everywhere. But its true staying power lies in its penchant for anime's past and present, and our fondness towards that bygone era. We are forever nostalgic for nostalgia itself.