Here’s an understatement for you: I am not a dancer.
Thinking is my domain and words are my tools, but when it comes to all things involving moving my body with grace, I am decidedly uncoordinated. Abysmal at sports, hopeless at hard labor, worth very little in a fight, and deplorable at dancing – that’s me in a nutshell. Seriously, I have seen myself attempt to dance on video, and… oh, I cringe at the mere memory. My forays into dance are best left forgotten.
But I can certainly appreciate, with just a touch of envy, when others execute dance exceptionally well. The poise, the inherent grace, the fluid movement, the raw strength, the palpable passion, the unique personality, the unspoken union and trust between partners… it can be utterly spellbinding to witness; powerful and expressive in its own right. This appreciation extends to the captivating world of Anime Dancing.
Like many others who regularly immerse themselves in anime culture, I recently had the distinct pleasure of watching what I firmly believe is one of the most beautifully animated dance sequences ever crafted. This gem appeared in a show with a rather lengthy title, 7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! The title itself is somewhat misleading, to be honest, but the animation style is undeniably above average, reaching moments of true brilliance. The dance in question is a perfect case in point.
There are a few fleeting moments inserted within this particular dance sequence that might seem a bit cryptic to anyone unfamiliar with the overarching narrative of the show. However, viewed as a whole, it is a truly exceptional and remarkably well-animated dance. It’s fluid, undeniably elegant, and brimming with stylish flair. Largely executed in what feels like real-time, it maintains an appealing pace and visual harmony. Yet, it’s not rigidly confined to perpetual motion. It masterfully strikes a balance, incorporating moments of slower animation and suspended stillness that still effectively convey movement. These pauses allow the audience to truly absorb what is unfolding and, crucially, to gain insight into the inner thoughts and feelings of the female lead.
Impressive, it truly is, most impressive. This anime dancing scene stands out all the more when contrasted with a number of other attempts at dance animation I’ve encountered in anime, and indeed, across various media.
Dancing, especially when animated, can be incredibly tricky to execute effectively. Choreographing and animating dance sequences are endeavors fraught with challenges, often proving tedious and potentially quite costly. The inherent difficulties are not entirely dissimilar to those encountered when creating compelling action sequences. Both require animators to depict the human body in motion, moving in a myriad of ways that are meaningful to the characters, the overarching plot, and the underlying themes. Crucially, they must also make it visually appealing to the viewer. There are a multitude of factors and priorities that need to be carefully balanced in something that, on the surface, might appear deceptively simple. Dance is something we often take for granted, yet seeing it poorly executed can elicit a wince or even outright laughter. The quality of anime dancing varies dramatically.
Take, as a contrasting example, another recent anime dancing scene from Doctor Elise. While I don’t have a readily available clip to share, suffice it to say that its quality is demonstrably lesser. In essence, it features just two characters on screen with a very minimal display of movement. While the dance is integrated into the story’s progression, it’s clear that it’s less central to the core plot. Consequently, it’s treated with significantly less care and dedication to detail. In fact, I almost admire the animators’ pragmatic approach. It’s as if they collectively decided, “Right, this isn’t our strength, and it’s not pivotal, so let’s lean into that acknowledgment rather than exert ourselves needlessly for a lackluster result.”
That’s actually a fairly typical approach in anime, though it’s not always quite so blatantly obvious. Many anime productions prioritize other aspects over elaborate anime dancing.
Some animators clearly do strive to achieve a bit more in their anime dancing sequences, and we observe a wide spectrum of quality in the resulting animations.
There are instances of anime dancing that prioritize dramatic impact over realism or genuine elegance. The dance between Margaret and Villar from Grancrest War falls into this category. I recall hearing it praised as a rather steamy number, but personally, I didn’t quite perceive it that way, aside from a fleeting moment where he holds her from behind. The extended side-stepping trot, the lifting and holding her aloft, the incessant spinning… these elements seemed primarily intended to enhance the scene’s texture and dramatic tension, rather than to genuinely showcase the art of dance itself.
Then there are examples of anime dancing that strive valiantly to avoid appearing overtly awkward or poorly executed. These often incorporate the sudden insertion of CGI for the more complex movements (which are far more demanding to animate by hand than one might initially realize). They also employ a range of clever tricks to condense the actual dancing sequence without compromising its perceived runtime. These techniques include frequent interjections of commentary from the surrounding crowd, numerous close-up shots of the dancers’ faces to convey their thoughts and emotions directly to the audience, and lingering extensively on moments frozen in time. Sometimes, they even cut away entirely to a completely different set of events unfolding elsewhere. This approach is somewhat evident in the dance between a prince and a princess in Tearmoon Empire.
Conversely, some anime dancing sequences are superbly animated, maintaining the consistent high visual quality of the anime they inhabit, but they adopt a more reserved approach to choreography. Realistic and pleasing to the eye, certainly, but they refrain from venturing into overly elaborate or ambitious movements. This pragmatic strategy simplifies the animation workload while still effectively casting the desired romantic spell. The dance between Fern and Stark in Frieren exemplifies this style.
This more restrained approach is, in relative terms, quite established. Animation as a medium has only existed for a little over a century. Therefore, relying on dance movements that are simple yet undeniably elegant – and, more importantly, romantically charged – is a tried-and-true tactic that is nearly as old as animation itself. This classic style is a staple of anime dancing history.
Consider, for instance, the brief yet iconic dance between Princess Aurora and Prince Phillip in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty.
Or the languid ballroom romance that unfolds between the titular Beauty and the Beast.
Or Cinderella’s enchanting first spin with her prince.
All of these animated dances are characterized by simplicity, elegance, romanticism, and a certain repetitiveness… and brevity. 😉 These classic examples showcase the foundations of anime dancing and animated romance.
On the subject of Cinderella, it’s crucial to acknowledge that animators face a significant inherent disadvantage when it comes to realistically animating dance. Live-action filmmaking possesses a natural advantage in this particular arena. Just compare the animated dance from the original Cinderella with the dance featured in the live-action remake. The live-action dance still maintains a sense of simplicity, elegance, and romanticism, even incorporating moves that, upon closer observation, can be detected in several of the animated dance scenes I’ve previously mentioned. However, in real life, every subtle nuance of movement is captured with effortless fidelity. This allows live-action to achieve greater intricacy, enhanced grace, and a natural escalation as the dance progresses, such as when the prince begins lifting Cinderella towards the dance’s climax. The comparison highlights the challenges inherent in anime dancing to achieve realism.
Live-action entertainment offers a wealth of captivating dance sequences, where the camera actually lingers on the actual dancing. Of course, these often tend to heavily emphasize the lead characters, bathed in spotlight, while relegating everyone else to the role of extras – sometimes even employing subtle techniques to minimize the visual impact of more skilled background dancers. Nevertheless, live-action can deliver truly riveting, passionate dance performances (often, it must be said, with a pronounced emphasis on sexual attraction in contemporary examples).
Think of Save the Last Dance, where a streetwise young man teaches a classically trained ballerina the dynamic energy of hip-hop dance.
Or Step Up, where a young man from the streets forges a connection with a refined young woman through the shared language of dance, including a memorable scene where they steal the show together at a club.
And also the pivotal moment in Step Up when he steps up (pun intended) to help her elevate her senior showcase into something far more impactful and authentic than she could have achieved alone – a performance that reflected their shared journey and which her original partner proved incapable of adapting to, behaving as if he were performing flamenco instead.
And, of course, the iconic club scene in Footloose, where, somewhat improbably, the entire energy of the space seems to revolve solely around the main characters, even down to the extras around them mirroring their heightened emotions and movements in perfect synchronicity.
The central challenge in almost all of these live-action dance examples lies in making meticulously rehearsed choreography appear organic and spontaneous, imbued with life. But when this illusion is successfully achieved, the result can easily prove far more dynamic and captivating than any animated dance, ranging from the enchanting romance of Cinderella to the fiery, Spanish passion of The Mask of Zorro. The latter, admittedly, is more structurally simple than one might initially perceive while swept up in the movie’s energy, employing those aforementioned cinematic tricks of cutting to other characters and shifting perspectives. Yet, it undeniably casts its spell, and, if I may venture to say, it remains considerably more overtly sensual than Margaret and Villar’s previously discussed dance from Grancrest War. Live-action dance sets a high bar for anime dancing to reach.
The deceptive simplicity of Zorro’s dance also illuminates a key advantage that animators possess to counteract their inherent disadvantages in depicting dance. While animators have always needed to develop methods to convincingly mimic the movements of real people, they are fundamentally unbound by the constraints of physical reality. A live-action dance must operate within the limitations of real human bodies, subject to the laws of physics and the immediate, unfiltered impressions conveyed by every minute movement. Animators, conversely, can make their characters execute movements that appear visually stunning on screen, but which might not translate seamlessly or even plausibly to real-world performance. This freedom allows for unique expressions in anime dancing.
A prime example is the “Shocking Party” dance sequence from Love Live!.
On screen, it can look quite impressive, enhanced by clever cutaways to showcase the reactions of other characters and the surrounding world.
But it doesn’t appear quite so striking in real life, does it? Not the outfits, not the dancers themselves, and not the specific dance moves. (Please forgive the linked video; it appears the copyright holder prefers it not to be embedded on external sites). The comparison reveals the limitations of translating anime dancing to live performance.
From the same franchise – Love Live Sunshine – comes a fairly popular song and dance number called My Mai Tonight. Just visually, it seems quite appealing, doesn’t it? It’s effervescently sweet and overflowing with the heartfelt passion of these adorable young girls singing and dancing their hearts out.
Now, consider the live performance of the very same song by Hololive. They are compelled to make certain adaptations, including performing for the entire duration of the full song, rather than just an abbreviated anime version. However, they remain remarkably faithful to the original animated movements. And yet, viewed from a real-world perspective, the performance suddenly appears less vibrant and dynamic, doesn’t it? It’s undeniably precise and well-directed, with each performer executing their designated part of the routine flawlessly. But it also feels somewhat rigid and markedly less “alive” than the anime version, which is, ironically, supposed to be the inherent strength of live-action choreography – to capture and convey life and spontaneity. The gap between anime dancing and live dance is highlighted.
Now, it is crucial to emphasize that Hololive and its members are, in fact, highly skilled and professional performers in their field. One can readily find numerous impressive videos showcasing their work across various platforms. They are engaging, highly entertaining, and clearly dedicated to their craft. They practiced diligently and collaborated effectively to create this particular performance, and that effort should not be underestimated. They originate from a very similar entertainment industry, and certainly from the same broader cultural context, as the anime they are depicting. They acquitted themselves admirably, performing as well as anyone could reasonably expect in this translation.
And, it must be acknowledged, they were actually singing the song they were dancing to live, in contrast to many performers in Western media, who often engage in vigorous athletic routines while merely lip-syncing their songs, or alternatively, deliver visually static performances lacking in dynamism. Hololive’s commitment to live singing while dancing sets a standard.
Alas, even the virtual avatars of Hololive can only ultimately reflect the actual physical movements of the real performers behind them. Lacking the transformative power of cinematography and editing, the live audience is essentially rooted to a single vantage point, observing the performance in its entirety from a fixed perspective. Live performance, even by skilled groups, can’t quite replicate the inherent flamboyance and visual flair of anime dancing. This limitation, however, underscores my central point: the anime choreography they are faithfully imitating simply couldn’t conceive of movements that would fully translate and hold up with the same impact in the real world.
It works effectively within the stylized context of the anime, but it loses some of its inherent dynamism and appeal when brought to an actual stage. This phenomenon occurs when life attempts to imitate art that, in its initial creation, didn’t accurately or fully imitate life in the first place. The disconnect between anime dancing and real-world dance is revealed.
Two anime characters, a woman with long pink hair in a white and pink dress and a man with blue hair in a white and blue suit, are dancing closely in a ballroom with large windows and chandeliers.
I believe this observation is what makes me so appreciative of the dance sequence in 7th Time Loop. It possesses a quality that suggests it would actually hold up remarkably well even when directly compared to professional dancing in real life. While my personal knowledge of dance is admittedly limited, the movements in this anime scene are not only significantly more fluid and expressive than most other examples of anime dancing I’ve encountered – and showcased in these videos – but they also possess a grounded quality that suggests they would be genuinely captivating to watch on an actual ballroom dance floor. That level of real-world translatability is a rare achievement in animated dance. 7th Time Loop showcases exceptional anime dancing.
It is an immense creative challenge to conceive of a dance that resonates visually and emotionally within one medium, let alone one that possesses a level of inherent quality to translate effectively across two distinct mediums. The effort to create compelling anime dancing is significant.
On that concluding note, I should perhaps wrap this up with a nod of appreciation towards Hololive’s consistently high quality of live dancing performances. Consider this a form of apology for using their Love Live Sunshine performance to illustrate how anime dancing often struggles to translate seamlessly into live-action dance, even when executed by seasoned professionals. When left to their own creative devices, Hololive’s various talents typically excel in their own original dance performances.
Consider Vestia Zeta’s dynamic use of movement and energy in “You’re Mine.”
Or Houshou Marine’s incredibly energetic and charismatic performance of “Bishoujyo Muzai Pirates.”
A quartet of Hololive talents, particularly renowned for their dance prowess, collaborated to perform K/DA’s League of Legends songs for Riot Games last year, and their performance was, in my estimation, quite impressive. Hololive demonstrates high-quality live dance performance.
I’d have to say my personal favorite Hololive dance performance to date was from their English branch’s inaugural concert last year. It was a fascinating experience to witness each member perform individually and then in group numbers. One could discern subtle nuances in their individual styles. For instance, Gawr Gura was undeniably adorable, infectiously positive, and charmingly cute, but her choreography leaned towards repetition. Conversely, Irys delivered a regal and emotionally resonant rendition of “Gravity,” but her movements also exhibited a degree of repetitiveness. Kiara, Fauna, Calli, and the rest were all a genuine joy to watch, each contributing their unique flavor to the overall performance. I sincerely wish I could readily share videos of each of these performances, but alas, that is not currently possible. I could elaborate further, sharing my detailed thoughts on each and every musical number performed, but to cut to the chase, when it comes to pure dance impact, I was most profoundly impressed by Hakos Baelz. Hololive’s dancers each have unique strengths.
I can readily understand why Bae is widely regarded by her peers as the most accomplished dancer among them. She conceptualizes and develops all of her own choreography, and she infuses it with such vibrant, vivacious life and energy. Hakos Baelz is a standout anime dancing inspired live performer.
She demonstrably possesses the discipline and technical skill to execute complex routines as flawlessly as anyone, as evidenced by both her rendition of “Play Dice” and her sensual duet of “Angelus” alongside Irys.
She unequivocally commanded the spotlight at Hololive’s 4th Fes last year as well, moving with the dynamism and passion of a seasoned professional dancer.
But when she stood before the live audience in Los Angeles, unbound by pre-set choreography and free to express herself fully, she ignited the venue, bringing the audience to their feet with her raw energy, roaring out her song while dancing with unrestrained abandon. And, unless my eyes deceived me in the heat of the moment, she didn’t repeat a single dance move throughout her entire performance, not even once. Hakos Baelz’s live dance performance is truly exceptional.
Wow. I mean… truly, wow.
I would genuinely love to see an anime production even attempt to capture that level of raw, spontaneous, and utterly captivating dance energy! The bar is set high for future anime dancing sequences.
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