5 out of 5
Directed by: Masaya Fujimori
covers season 1
I was watching a video recently that was exploring the definition of ‘depth’ in relation to media, and how we might misapply that tag on occasion, where ‘depth’ – in this analysis – requires some sense of change or evolution of a thesis; just having complexity does not insure that something is deep. I feel like just starting there suggests I’m about to rag on Revenger co-writer Gen Urobochi, whose works’ patterns seem to be at the focus of various reviews I’ve read on the show, but I don’t know enough to step into that debate; rather, I’m just trying to lead-in to calling Revenger kinda deep… which is absolutely the perfect tonal range for the show.
That middleground might be my favorite form of anime, as it seems to allow for / take advantage of the medium’s tropes, but accepts exploration within those borders. The basic story of Revenger is simple – a samurai (Raizo Kurima, voiced by Jun Kasama) who is tricked into a wrongful killing follows a path of both vengeance and redemption – and the tropes that it uses to tell that story are, well, tropes: its splay of character archetypes can be overlain a billion other anime, and it’s possible its lingering lore never quite justifies some Hows and Whys of its frame, which follows a group of “revengers” tasked by a religious organization (The Chapel) to kill particular targets, episode by episode. But the way studio Ajia-do Animation Works and director Masaya Fujimori bring all this to 12-episode life firstly provides a solid foundation on which to poke at its kinda depth, setting us in an animated world of adjacent reality and physics, and giving equal care to staging dialogue sequences as the action, and the writing (and acting) does the rest of the juggling: Kurima joins the Revenger crew and meets the aforementioned archetypes – their stoic leader Yuen (Yūichirō Umehara); literate brawler / doctor Teppa (Shunsuke Takeuchi); the bratty and cruel kid Nio (Hisako Kanemoto); and the ne’er-do-well gambler Sofi (Shouta Hayama) – and the show gives these characters just enough backstory to make them familiar beyond their one-note characteristics, but also doesn’t put the show on pause in a forced attempt to make them faux “rich” characters. Similarly, Kurima’s path is woven into a double-crossing and backstabbing-filled plot to flood Nagasaki (where the revengers operate) with opium, and the show takes steps to underline the effects, and make some light social commentary about the government and business versus the people, but it is never exactly the point of the series – Raizo is.
And that’s where Revenger focuses all of its depth, into making sure that all of his choices are threaded into the show’s themes of grudges and redemption and revenge. And on that front, it is so satisfying, backed by the smart handling of the aforementioned elements, that the whole thing gets elevated as a result. The pacing is worked into this, adding more and more foes into the mix – including a fun set of alternate revengers, another trope-ish concept – to counter Raizo’s slow crawl towards self-peace. The net result is a show that’s both very accessible, but also very weighty; the characters and action can make it fun, while the nitty-gritty of the story can require more undivided attention, to keep all the particulars straight. And there’s a line drawn up the middle of that – Kurima’s character arc – which is very powerful, and keeps one truly invested in a way that’s just unfortunately rare for anime protagonists.
I absolutely understand the criticisms of Urobochi’s habits, and the way they can be seen throughout Revenger. I’d also not deny that some of its dialogue supposes a level of complexity that really isn’t there; or that the opium storyline is overly layered. However, for me, all of that was a positive – elements balanced out to provide a series you can watch on several levels. Not all of those are deep, but that just makes the levels that are deep more satisfying by comparison.
A final nod to the music: composer Jun Futamata adds the final stamp on this show, bumping it into perfection. Jun’s string-laden themes never fail to add atmosphere, sneaking up on a viewing to stir up more serious scenes with proper emotion, or to amp up the action during assassinations. Get the soundtrack.