A time-travelling TV comedy with a bawdy middle-aged hero has become a big hit in Japan, juxtaposing the country’s brash 1980s boom years with its more politically correct present day.
In the series, titled Extremely Inappropriate, the past isn’t rose-tinted: there’s smoking on the bus, boobs on television and corporal punishment galore.
But modern Japan doesn’t get a free pass either.
Photo: EPA
When schoolteacher and father Ichiro Ogawa is catapulted from 1986 to this year, he scandalizes millennials and Gen Z-ers with his disregard for their views on gender, family and labor rights.
Implicit in his candid words is a question: is society today, with its good intentions around issues like diversity and work-life balance, really all it’s cracked up to be?
The show’s satire of how Japan has changed over the decades has struck a chord with viewers young and old.
Last month, it became the first program made by major broadcaster TBS to top Netflix’s most-watched list in Japan for three weeks running.
Producer Aki Isoyama, who is 56, initially thought it would be “very challenging” to poke fun at today’s progressive values without triggering a backlash from the public.
The show isn’t meant as a verdict on the superiority of one era over the other, she said.
But one inspiration for her and screenwriter Kankuro Kudo, 53, was the idea that “life has become more difficult in some aspects today.”
“Our society has certainly gotten better, but in a way more restrictive, too, with everything dictated by compliance and protocols,” Isoyama said.
Today, when something is pronounced unacceptable, “we often unquestioningly accept that explanation and refrain from saying or doing it,” she added.
“The show will hopefully make viewers stop and ask themselves: ‘Why was it banned in the first place?’”
HARASSMENT AND SEXISM
One 25-year-old fan, Mao Yamada, said the show is a reminder that “our society has become more accepting of diversity, including LGBTQ rights.”
“It’s good we’re now more mindful of things like sexual harassment,” she said, adding that she understands why some might feel “too many things are perhaps restricted and kept unsaid.”
Workplace pep talks to Gen-Z hires are denounced as harassment in Extremely Inappropriate, and an exasperated TV producer tries to censor everything said on air.
Meanwhile, freewheeling Ogawa — who in his own bygone world yells “grow a pair!” at male students and teases women about menopause — is lambasted by today’s generation, including a feminist sociologist.
He is enlightened on the concepts of gender neutrality and sexual consent. Marriage, he learns, is no longer the definition of happiness.
Viewer Kyo Maeda, 68, called the show’s 1980s scenes an accurate portrayal of “what our everyday life used to be like.”
“Our life was full of what could easily be seen as harassment and sexism by today’s morals,” he said.
In 1986, Japan was basking in the glow of its post-war evolution into an economic superpower, with many workers fixated on success, no matter the hours required.
On Extremely Inappropriate young recruits — a generation shaped by Japan’s “lost decades” of stagnation from the early 1990s — matter-of-factly clock off on time.
In the 80s, “I loved going to work, you know,” Maeda reminisced, chuckling. “The economy was still picking up and we were all-out at work.”
“I feel like there was more hope and excitement about the future in the 80s than there is now,” he said.
BOLDER THEMES
Extremely Inappropriate, whose final episode aired yesterday, has received its share of criticism in the real world.
Some say concepts like feminism or discrimination based on appearance are oversimplified, and that political correctness is treated as little more than a shackle on free speech.
Interspersed throughout the show are musical performances and jokey disclaimers excusing Ogawa’s gaffes and insults.
But beneath the levity is a serious message, said Takahiko Kageyama, a media studies professor at Doshisha Women’s College of Liberal Arts.
“The creators obviously wanted us to reflect on the status quo of our society,” he said.
“But if this intent had come off too straightforward or preachy, it would’ve just fallen flat.”
The show’s themes are “bold” given the sensitive landscape of Japan’s entertainment industry today, he said.
Boy-band empire Johnny’s and Associates faced an existential crisis last year over a sexual abuse scandal involving its late founder.
Allegations of workplace bullying have also disgraced the prestigious theatre troupe Takarazuka Revue.
Producer Isoyama said that making the show in parallel with these events had sometimes felt uncanny.
“With Johnny’s and Takarazuka, it was like facts far stranger than fiction were unfolding around us,” she said.
But “this made us feel that the timing of the release would be fitting, considering how the industry is changing, the way it should.”
The breakwater stretches out to sea from the sprawling Kaohsiung port in southern Taiwan. Normally, it’s crowded with massive tankers ferrying liquefied natural gas from Qatar to be stored in the bulbous white tanks that dot the shoreline. These are not normal times, though, and not a single shipment from Qatar has docked at the Yongan terminal since early March after the Strait of Hormuz was shuttered. The suspension has provided a realistic preview of a potential Chinese blockade, a move that would throttle an economy anchored by the world’s most advanced and power-hungry semiconductor industry. It is a stark reminder of
May 11 to May 17 Traversing the southern slopes of the Yushan Range in 1931, Japanese naturalist Tadao Kano knew he was approaching the last swath of Taiwan still beyond colonial control. The “vast, unknown territory,” protected by the “fierce” Bunun headman Dahu Ali, was “filled with an utterly endless jungle that choked the mountains and valleys,” Kano wrote. He noted how the group had “refused to submit to the measures of our authorities and entrenched themselves deep in these mountains … living a free existence spent chasing deer in the morning and seeking serow in the evening,” even describing them as
As a different column was being written, the big news dropped that Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) announced that negotiations within his caucus, with legislative speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) of the KMT, party Chair Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) Chair Huang Kuo-chang (黃國昌) had produced a compromise special military budget proposal. On Thursday morning, prior to meeting with Cheng over a lunch of beef noodles, Lu reiterated her support for a budget of NT$800 or NT$900 billion — but refused to comment after the meeting. Right after Fu’s
What government project has expropriated the most land in Taiwan? According to local media reports, it is the Taoyuan Aerotropolis, eating 2,500 hectares of land in its first phase, with more to come. Forty thousand people are expected to be displaced by the project. Naturally that enormous land grab is generating powerful pushback. Last week Chen Chien-ho (陳健和), a local resident of Jhuwei Borough (竹圍) in Taoyuan City’s Dayuan District (大園) filed a petition for constitutional review of the project after losing his case at the Taipei Administrative Court. The Administrative Court found in favor of nine other local landowners, but