Whenever an anime adaptation is released, whether it’s a manga, light novel, or book, one of the biggest worries is what changes will be made to the story. There are times when characters have a bigger or lesser role. At other times story arcs may condense. In The Promised Neverland’s case, the show goes in a completely different direction that forgets one of the show’s most important characters, and at the end does a clip show that speeds through the rest of the manga content, AKA what the anime should’ve adapted in full.
HOWEVER! Not all story changes are bad. Sometimes the source material has parts that would work better rearranged. Other times there are sections that don’t fit the vibe of the story or limit character interactions and cool story possibilities. This article will look at positive script differences that improve the anime adaptation through two specific examples. Adaptations are more than just putting in cool visuals, and these examples prove why.
Bocchi the Rock
Starting off with Bocchi the Rock, the anime both expands on original scenes and cuts others entirely. For example, chapter 19 of the original manga deals with the four main characters, who are all in high school, doing their homework. The thing is, even though the characters are in school, the story mostly focuses on their band. While the chapter isn’t bad, it doesn’t fit with the rest of the manga. To remedy this, the scriptwriter Erika Yoshida cut almost the entire chapter from the anime except for a couple jokes that she spread out through other episodes.
When it comes to expanding, in episode 5, the manga has the drummer Nijika’s older sister inform her of an audition. In the anime, Nijika runs away before her sister can tell her about the audition. The other band members have to chase after her, and the main character Bocchi is the one who first learns about the audition process. It gives another side to the usually composed Nijika and shows that the titular Bocchi is not athletic in the slightest. This writing change gives more character moments that the manga simply didn’t, and the show is better for it.
The Tatami Galaxy
Lastly, there’s The Tatami Galaxy. Compared to the other two examples the source material is a book. The writing itself is witty and charming, and I laughed out loud several times. So what would need changing? Well, the book has four chapters. And in each chapter, not just a sentence, not even a paragraph, but entire pages worth of text are copy and pasted four times except for the most minute details. The reason the book does this is because the story revolves around four different possibilities in the main character’s college life, but it doesn’t make those parts any more fun to read.
The scriptwriter Masaaki Yuasa, who also directed the anime, kept all the characters, plot points and themes of the book intact, but then made sweeping changes for the rest of the show. He extended the book’s four cycles to ten, then added in unique jokes and interactions for the copy and pasted parts of the book. Yuasa even dedicated episodes for organizations simply mentioned in the book, such as a softball club that was a front for a cult that sold honey products, or a cycling club that ends with the main character failing to fly a sea plane.
The anime is completely different from the book, and is much better for it. The story turns from a solid read into a genuine masterpiece, and that wouldn’t happen if the anime adaptation was faithful to the source material.
The Fear of Change
I understand why people are afraid of changes to the source material. If the changes are poorly thought out, plot points and characters suffer, which harms the show, sometimes irreparably. But on the other hand, examples like Bocchi the Rock and The Tatami Galaxy show that with careful planning, changing and rearranging a story for an adaptation elevates the source material. Improving something’s aspects to make it the best it can possibly be is much more respectful than following the source material to the letter because you think your writing skills are inherently worse. Writing changes aren’t inherently bad, and people as a whole need to realize this.