Asadora
On 3 April 1961, Musume to Watashi began. The form — a serial every morning — has continued for more than sixty years since. The first one, incidentally, was a twenty-minute programme; fifteen minutes started with the second, the following year.
What this form can do shows in the order of magnitude of its ratings. Oshin (fiscal 1983) peaked at 62.9% (Video Research, Kanto region, household, programme average). The upper ranks go on with Tabiji at 56.9%, Ohanahan at 56.4%, Ashita Koso at 55.5%, Miotsukushi at 55.3%. Half a year to a year, fifteen minutes each morning. Added up, that is an extraordinary amount of time spent with the same people.
And this produces the quietest reversal on this map. When people discuss ratings for Japanese drama, the figures usually cited come from evening dramas. But look at the ratings tables themselves and the asadora are tallied separately, with several titles passing 42% even during the Heisei era (→ see the myth correction in Sunday Theatre & the Payback Drama). The louder festivals stay in the memory, but in the numbers, the mornings were higher all along.
The form has kept evolving too. On NHK’s Asaichi, which began in 2010, the presenters touch on that morning’s episode right after it ends — a habit called asadora-uke that arose on its own. According to the senior producer, “at first it was really just a word or two, like ‘That was a surprise, wasn’t it.’” Even someone watching alone should feel they are watching with everyone. By making a small place for the afterglow just after the broadcast, these fifteen minutes spilled out beyond the programme.
Amachan (2013) is the liveliest example. “Je je je” took the annual Grand Prize at that year’s New Words and Buzzwords Awards, Japan’s yearly buzzword poll — and standing on the same stage that year was “bai-gaeshi” (→ Sunday Theatre & the Payback Drama). In one year, the morning and Sunday night each gave the country a phrase.