On the surface, Nodame Cantabile is a typical romantic comedy of opposites attracting. Tamaki Hiroshi and Ueno Juri are pitch perfect as the mismatched pair, seamlessly veering from slapstick hijinks to emotionally grounded moments of discovery. However, the show’s real love affair is with music, and it’s a doozy, a delirious, swooning, unicorns-and-rainbows relationship that captures the raw joy of shared artistry, of that moment when an eclectic group of individuals joins together to become something greater than themselves. The manga-esque staginess takes a bit of getting used to, with heavy-handed (literally) physical attacks and cartoonish mugging. The silliness alternates between endearing and alarming, but there is nothing frivolous about the show’s treatment of music. It notes how unforgiving the arts world can be, full of too many gifted students and too few opportunities, how competition, envy, harsh instructors and grueling practice regimens can drain the spark from performers. But, to its credit, the drama never glosses over the discipline needed to do great work. This is a show that celebrates both playfulness and rigor, suggesting that the best art comes not from one or the other but from a happy marriage of the two. It isn’t the misfits vs. the superstars, but an understanding that both are needed to bring a score to life. Moments of true harmony may be fleeting, but when they happen, in either love or music, it’s cause for celebration.