4 out of 5

On the surface, this is a pretty dumb story about wrestling aliens and peeing girls that gives the creator plenty of opportunity to draw huge pinups of muscle dudes.

But we’re dealing with the creator of Berserk here, and while I wouldn’t shame the guy for working on a silly fun project in between volumes of his 20-year running epic, there’s quite possibly more to unpack here.  “Possibly” because, well, there might not be.  In which case we’re still left over with an impeccably drawn strip with a smattering of fun ideas and oddities, but the more I considered the potential implications of the tale, the more I’m convinced there’s something else at play, and the more I’m into it.

Prome – bug-eyed naif-girl – and Delos – bushy-haired gladiator, are stomping through a desert at some point way in the future, the former riding atop the latter’s shoulders, an uncomfortable arrangement mined foe a few chuckles.  There are some confusing exchanges between the two before they’re kidnapped by a tribe of human/beetle hybrids, and Delos – looked down upon by the tribe as a Hyu, i.e. human – has to battle the local champion.  Which he does for a couple of chapters, lots of grunting and wrestling flips, while Miura occasionally cuts to shots of an approaching ‘giganto,’ i.e. giant machine.  Thereafter ensues a pretty typical enemy-turned-friend plot structure as Prome and Delos help defend the tribe against the giganto, and maybe there are more chapters of grunting and wrestling.

So where’s the ‘something else?’  Well, it’s contextual.  Which is also why I enjoy it the more I ponder it, because you really don’t have to care to appreciate the sci-fi whimsy, and it thus falls into that amusing realm of analysis where you pore over a text, present your findings, and are then told that whatever ties you found were unintended or straight out wrong. Power of art, y’all.  The context, as I’m interpreting it, is regarding the own creator’s history, with the violence and darkness of Berserk, as well as more lightly commenting on manga in general, as, in part, represented by Attack on Titan, to which a couple of the gigantos appear to be visual references.

For Miura, who’s worked endlessly to develop a gory tome into something much more complex and layered, the sort of playful romping in Maxia – as well as the expressed theme that hatred gets you nowhere – would seem to be a reminder to take a step back from the darkness and fisticuffs.  This, along with the ‘can’t we all get along’ team-up, also reads like a hip-check to Titan’s alarmist response to the world (as the main gist of that story’s creatures are that they attack without provocation).  This feels further underlined by how the gigantos function on Maxia, although explaining more might be a light spoiler (…but this isn’t a very spoilery tale, so don’t assume that means I’m masking any huge twist).  Kentaro might also be taking a shot at the medium’s sexploitation with Prome, who stands underwearless atop Delos’ shoulders, and several times performs an act some would assuredly fetishize.  And yet the way its handled feels tasteful (no pun intended) and oddly innocent.  Again, I’m surely making all this up, but they way Kentaro teases us with a concept that would potentially fall into genre tropes and then avoids showing it seems worth consideration.

So there’s a lot – possibly – to unpack.  Setting that all aside, there’s still a ton of mythology jammed into these few chapters, which is definitely one of the books downsides.  I like having something self-contained, but the way some concepts are stuffed between panels sells the premise short; re-reading is encouraged.  Similarly, Miura wanted to go MASSIVE with the art, but the full-bleed, double-spread pages are sometimes so filled with action lines and complicated directions that it’s hard to tell exactly what’s going on.  But I do appreciate dark horse spacing the text away from the edges so you’re at least guaranteed to be able to read all the dialogue.

All in all, I’m not sure how this comes off to someone not already interested in Miura.  Probably a little rushed, and probably a little silly.  Which it is.  But the artistic quality is undeniable, and I’m enjoying thinking that there’s more to this than simply a well drawn wrasslin’ tale.