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1. A GOOD QUESTION

I like understanding why things are popular.

And it’s weird how many critics… don’t? Like, maybe I’m wrong, but it just feels like so many of them make these blind assumptions about the general public being a bunch of pleebs whose passion for something can just be chalked up to “liking the lowest common denominator” or something. Which shows this weird, baseline air of disdain that I’ve always found to be pretty insulting. Like, yeah, I’ll argue passionately for understanding film history, watching Tarkovsky, and loving modern abstract movies like Under The Skin. And I do so because it’s important to uphold the wide breadth of cinema around the world. But it is not the job of a critic to be the arbiter of taste. The job is to expose a whole bunch of different kinds of films - and then write words that help people understand their own reactions. And sometimes do so in a way that  maybe allows them to give things a second chance, or even gives them clarity to defend their own point of view. But when it comes to looking at what “works” with the large public? The job of the critic is to listen and try to understand. Because there’s always a deeper WHY behind it all. And following that why is always more interesting that one would assume. So it is with all of this understanding that I ask…

Why is Demon Slayer one of the most popular things in the world?

It has been the highest selling manga of recent years by an almost comical degree. The anime was a massive, massive hit. But perhaps nothing felt so transformative as the runaway blockbuster success of the Demon Slayer: Mugen Train theatrical film, which not only dethroned Spirited Away as the number all time box office film in Japan, but it made 50 million dollars here and 450 million dollars worldwide. It’s the kind of thing that not only gets noticed, it starts large scale trends that follow. So earlier this year, I finally jumped into the deep end of the property when I was invited to the season 3 premiere. And after getting to see the passion for the show up close, what with an audience shouting and hollering like few screenings I’ve seen before, I decided it was time to go back to the beginning and watch the saga in full, including the recent season finale. As always, the question is simple: why is the show striking such a chord? I genuinely wanted the answer to be “because it’s great and transcendent!”

But the actual answer may be more interesting.

2. THE STATE OF DIALOGUE

I’m in the place where I don’t read that much film criticism these days. I spent my teens and twenties reading it constantly and then when I actually started actually writing the long form essays, I found that reading a lot of other work just got in the way. Like, I would end up just having “a dialogue about the dialogue” and it was so steeped in meta discussions and film twitter BS and, more importantly, it was so far away from the general audience’s reaction. But the more I shut everything else out and just kept it about my 1:1 relationship to the text of the movie itself? Then I did a much better job. Sure, I’ll get sent the occasional great piece of criticism and am always like “damn, this is good,” but it’s become a general practice for me (and one that is pretty common for critics in general).

But it’s been different with this new Anime journey I’ve been on.

Everything is so new, fun, and different, plus there’s just so much history and context that I am completely missing. Thus, I’ve been reading as much as I can. Especially in terms of learning about history, along with certain conventions and tropes, it’s been pretty invaluable. But I’ve also noticed a lot of trends when it comes to the actual critical analysis. The first is that so much of the criticism has to do with analyzing the anime as a work of adaptation of the manga. This makes obvious sense! Particularly if it’s where you fell in love with a story first. But it keeps the critical analysis far away from all the meaning-making and high-school-english-paper-stuff that I adore. Plus, it bogs down the reader from going from the simple act of watching something and wanting to talk about it and turning it into something that always has an extra assignment in order to REALLY understand it and blah blah blah. And quite frankly, I don’t like the dynamic. It’s IMPORTANT to talk about works in and of themselves. Which is why I’ve had to create this “no, I will not read the manga” policy with everything I am watching. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t enjoy reading the manga, or that I wouldn’t get something out of it, I’d probably do both! It’s just that it is a distraction from talking about the meaning of the anime I’m watching in and of itself.

All of which sort of taps into the second thing I see in anime criticism which is how much of it is logic-driven. The following article I read is a pretty good example of that https://www.thepopverse.com/demon-slayer-kimetsu-no-yaiba-anime-popular , but I wanted to see what folks were saying about why the show is so popular and there’s some neat things here! For example about how Demon Slayer takes place during the Taisho period of Japan, a time I’m largely unfamiliar with, but finding fascinating in terms of the way it reflects rapid change. This article is also how I learned about the trope of “mascot characters” in anime, though let’s just say I find it a bit odd that the central relationship effectively “Little Mermaids” his sister into a silent mcguffin, stuffed in a box, and along for the ride unless she’s useful, but hey (to be clear, I do like the characterization of Nezuko’s range of cute / scary / endearing behaviors a lot of fun).

But other than that, so much of the analysis is about the show’s marketability. Whether it be the stark inventiveness of the “easily cosplayable” designs. Once again, I do think these things matter. And I do think they have a lot to do with the appeal of the show (we’ll come back to the design element later). But such things do not a phenomenon make. There has to be something deeper, more essential, a spark of connection that powers through. What is the EMOTION that it provides at the heart of the story? Why is it thematically resonant? And how does it provide that emotion better than all the other battle shonen that exists in this industry? Well, like most things that connect with an audience…

It starts with the characters.

3. LUKE SWORDCHIPPER

When I went to the season 3 premiere I remember the great Natsuki Hanae was fielding questions in the interview portion about how Tanjiro was not your “standard anime protagonist” and given what I had seen in that night I was kind of like “hmmmm, he kind of feels exactly like the standard protagonist?” And now having seen the whole show I have a little more specificity on that. Because as a main character, Tanjiro is decent, deeply humble, simple in his goal and demeanor, and he does have *genuine* sense of empathy and justice that I think powers the character’s connection and viewpoint (which we’ll talk about near the end). But he’s also not ”cool.” He is very much a devout, try hard, boy scout type and it invokes a simple question…

Why do we like these kinds of main characters?

Essentially, it’s the question: why does the Luke Skywalker figure work? As in, why does the Han Solo type work best on the side? Now, to be clear, it can work the other way, too (Iron Man being the prime example). And there’s a lot of people who mistake having “everyman protagonist” as meaning you want someone milquetoast and bland (which you can see in every blatant Star Wars rip off like The Seventh Son). And if you look closer, you realize there’s a lot more going on with Luke than might seem. I talk a lot about in the huge Star Wars video essay I made with Landon, but he’s a complaining teenager who is so good at expressing how he feels STUCK in his current situation. He’s frustrated, angry, wants to be with friends, and most of all: he wants to be an adult who is out in the world right NOW. So it’s about connecting with a dream or escape.

With Tanjiro, he’s not a whiner, nor even a dreamer, but his story is connected to an essential youthful feeling much the same: it’s about the fantasy of saving someone. More specifically, it’s about engaging with the youthful fear of death and getting at the idea you can save people. His version is just colored with a little, “someone beat up my kid sister!” energy that motivates many older brother types. But there’s this sense that Tanjiro has to “heal and fix” at the same time. To be clear, I don’t think the show is really exploring this idea in a deep sense (at least not yet). It’s more of a core emotional motive thing. Which is why she’s kind of relegated to mascoting and it’s not so much about their RELATIONSHIP (because those have arcs). But that doesn’t mean their relationship is one note either. The show demonstrates a bunch of behaviors that can come off quite funny. Particularly when Tanjiros try hard qualities meet a funny situation (like when he becomes a good worker in the brothel). I also like that he’s constantly chipping, breakin, or losing his sword and that always getting him in trouble with the world's angriest swordsmith (And I did like their arc this season). But most of all, there really is a tenderness that comes through. At one point a character asks him “You have a beautiful soul, don’t you?”

And I think that’s true. Because he’s kind of defined by this deep sensitivity. Where someone like Edward Elric speaks to the thin skin and anger of youth, Tanjiro is far more flowery. And there’s a philosophy he espouses at some point that I think speaks to something at its core. When someone is talking to Tanjiro (I believe it is coin flip girl, but my notes are confusing)  she is talking about how she learned the hard way that nothing matters and Tanjiro shoots back with sincerity, “I don’t think there’s anything in this world that doesn’t matter.” And he means it. Even in losing his family, he has this one real, tangible thing that he is certain matters. And he uses this as a guide to navigate each and every situation he encounters. Which serves as the anchoring moral compass of the show itself. One which allows the other characters to pop within the large ecosystem. And boy oh boy do I have some strong feelings about the other tertiary characters.

Let’s start with my favorite.

4. PRETTY, PRETTY PIGBOY

If Tanjiro is the anchor, Inosuke is the wrecking ball.

And the balance between them is EVERYTHING for this show. I mean that sincerely. Inosuke’s big, strong, loud, brash, and a complete and total idiot. We all know the type! I think TV Tropes settled on calling them the “boisterous bruiser” and we’ve seen them many times over, from Jayne in Firefly to M’Baku in Black Panther, but really it’s an archetype that goes all the way to Sir Gawain in Arthurian Legend (if not earlier). But the success of this boisterous figure depends on the balance of a lot of all those qualities (and more how it comes off in context). For instance, Bakugo in My Hero Academia is just way too hateful / yelling aggressive in my mind to work for me (at least from what I’ve seen. I also know he’s a half-adversary in the story). But they get everything about Inosuke right. Every boast, every brash move, every thin-skinned retort just lands with aplomb, And the fact Inosuke does these things while hiding his completely gorgeous bright, blue eyed pretty boy face under the pig mask is the most delightful thing.

He really is just a magnificent little weirdo. Everything is a competition to him. And as a semi-self-raised animal of the jungle, people are weird little things he doesn’t care about. But likewise, he’ll also quickly get excited. Like, he’s never been on a train! He thinks it’s an animal! (and deliver great lines like “being inside the lord is mind-blowing”). Everything about his design and personality just makes me cackle. There’s just a beautiful simplicity to all of it. And he’s so fundamental to the makeup of the core triumvirate that I can’t imagine the show without him. And yes, I realize that I’m so gung ho about the character that I’m basically poochie-fying the approach and being like, “whenever Inosuke is not on screen, the other characters should be asking where’s Inosuke?”

But I kind of am! And I think it absolutely matters to the core function, because while I like some of the things they explore in season 3, I actually think the inescapable main problem is that their best character isn’t there. And the show simply suffers from the lack. Meanwhile, the other side of the “poochie problem” cuts a different way (at least for me) with another character in the main posse. But to even explore him properly, it means also talking about…

5. THE ANIME-PERV-INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX

I “get it” and yet I don’t get it.

I get that it’s basically this common / unavoidable trope that crops up in a lot of anime. I get that it’s easy to be like “oh, it’s just the Japanese sense of humor,” but I’m so so so so tired of the jaw-dropping ubiquity of the “horny to the point of outright rapey” character. Because that’s how we’re introduced to Zenitsu and it goes on AWHILE before he KIND OF starts to even out. And the point is that I get absolutely NOTHING from this. And the fact that I constantly have to normalize it just to watch the show is… taxing. I really hate hand-waving it away. And the more I watch anime, it doesn’t feel easier to dismiss, instead it all feels heavier. Which is all my way of saying I genuinely don’t get what to do about the anime-perv-industrial complex. I don’t get how it persists like this in the modern world. And I say this with full apology to Zenitsu fans, but this whole thing is just THE START of what’s weird about this character.

“I don’t understand this guy at all”

This is said in one of his first episodes and it kind of speaks to so many things. Because I genuinely don’t get the core conceit of his character. I say this because his gimmick as a “transformation character” is clearly just so flimsy and one-dimensional. Basically, he is a scared / very not good boy, but if he passes out and falls asleep some magic power takes over and suddenly he’s the fastest lightning boy in the world… but there’s no real deeper mechanic to this? Like, think about the dramatization of “transformation characters” by using one of the best examples: The Incredible Hulk. For starters, the whole thing is tied to the emotion of anger (which serves as our human connection to it) and if he gets too angry, he morphs into a big, wrecking, out of control monster that is capable of doing great and terrible things in equal measure. Which means the whole reason the drama of it all works is sometimes you’re rooting for him to turn into the Hulk and terrified he’ll not be able to! But at the exact same time, you’re terrified he’ll The Hulk at the wrong moment and wreck everything he’s working for. There’s a crucial duality.

And Zenitsu only seems to have the first part? Which means the mechanic really just is this rote waiting game where you’re waiting for him to pass out and then go full lightning mode and then it’s like “yay!” I guess? And that’s it? It’s so weird how much it’s not really augmented in any sense. Nor is it really tied directly to an emotion. It’s probably the simplest dramatic mechanism I’ve ever seen and it feels so weird that it removes any other kinds of complication about it (it kind of reminds me of that old SNL sketch about Disney people being sad about the first Of Mice and Men so they got rid of mean old George and just put two Lennys in the sequel). And I think the show understands the lack of depth in the mechanism, which is why around episode 17 they FINALLY start trying to find depth with Zenitsu in other ways - and ultimately what it wants to resolve.

Some of which I like! This isn’t a pure negative fest, I swear! Like the moment where he finally admits “I hate myself more than anyone else” and how deep down he wants to be a capable individual is very important in terms of grounding. And the whole “struck by lightning” backstory at least gives a logical point of explanation. But as much as I can feel the pathos finally with the character, I’m just still stuck at that essential question: what is this really about? He talks about the dream self and I know implicitly this will be a story about the synthesis between those two selves: the dream version of who we want to be versus the person we really are in the moment - but I have genuine trouble locking that into the moment-to-moment storyline so that it actually feels like an exploration and not just just a vague theme that’s hinted at. And given the way the show tends to do circular character arcs (I’ll come back to explaining what this means) I don’t fully trust it to earn that kind of synthesis.

And yet, the oddest thing is that he still just slides right into the triumvirate and somehow makes sense. I guess they need an annoying guy to offset what’s good about the other two! I say that a little flippantly, but he really is on the opposite end of the spectrum when it comes to the necessary expression of fear in contrast to them (even if I don’t really like the way they’re exploring that fear, though it is sometimes funny). Moreover, I also acknowledge this show’s uncanny design sense. Like if you look at Tanjiro and Inosuke and Zenitsu you go “yeah, this looks right.” You got this pretty blonde boy and his nacho cheese Dorito patterned clothes and it just feels like this contrast. Similarly, I love the animation of his lighting abilities and there’s this little surface level appeal to it. It speaks to how much the texture of this show just seems to gel. And there’s a reason the show gels when it’s the three of them on their adventures and then you get to the third season and….

Well, you get a curveball.

6. NEW PLAYERS HAVE ENTERED THE ARENA

It’s important to make space for growth.

I understand this in my bones. If you just keep things endlessly enclosed with the same group (particularly if they’re not exactly growing) and you spell a certain tired doom in an adventure story (whereas it’s literally the goal in the purgatory of sitcoms). And expanding the roster of your epic show is important. It’s just always that tricky question of how you pull it off. To which I say the Swordsmith Village Arc is a little daring in how full tilt it goes. Because here, Tanjiro goes off to get his new sword and we end up leaving Inosuke and Zenitsu behind (boo and yay respectively) and having to deal with exploring three new characters. At this point, I can’t remember their names, which is perhaps telling, but don’t worry I’m about to look them up! But in my mind they are “demon bite guy,” “pink hair,” and “sullen boy.” And they all have respective qualities that are explored.

Genya - So we technically met this angry scarred guy way back when and he’s finally popped up again here to have a big part of the action. The thing about his contribution is ultimately, it’s a lot of that neat design and less idea stuff? Like he’s this mohawked, shotgun-toting, angry punk boy who will literally bite demons to absorb some of the power. But I was also a little confused by that? I was like wait is he turning INTO a demon, what are the rules here? Because it’s definitely playing calvinball with how this all worksl, but I get it’s also fun. But the thing is compared to Inosuke, who has such absurd pridefulness and fantastic comic timing, Genya is just much more in the Bakugo camp for me. And while the story touches on him, it doesn’t really go deep beyond the cool exterior of it. So I don’t really know what to take away here. Luckily, we get a little deeper with the other characters.

Mitsuri - So pink hair finally gets in on the action! So far a lot of what we’ve gotten to know of her is: is chipper, is nice to Tanjiro, has boobs, and (my personal favorite) Nezuko really likes her in a big sister sense and is constantly hugging her. It’s funny though, because it’s amazing how much I feel like battle shonen is trapped in this AGGRESSIVE gender normativity where her ultimate powers are “LOVE” forms because she’s GIRL WARRIOR and such. And it is such a funny contrast watching these episodes alongside watching the 1990’s Sailor Moon for the first time, which is also unapologetically “girly,” but also so wildly divergent and achingly human. She crumbles easily! She’s doing bad at tests! And has all sorts of comic fallibility! It’s just wild how fully formed it is and I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have that wonderful a character to grow up with. But by comparison, Mitsuri is so radically defined by placation / how others view her / what she gets out of how that view, but that quest for selfhood centering on “whether girls can be tough” just ends up feeling part of the exact the same heteronormative paradigm, given the fact that she’s designed within an inch of her life for all those same purposes / loving affect on a young male audience. I mean, pick your poison of tropes, but the manic pixie pink sword girl still ends up to that exact import. And yet, the whole key to this show is it doesn’t feel offensively so. It always has just enough little touches of depth going for it that it feels both substantial enough and yet of a pleasing piece with the aforementioned heteronormative intent. But hey, a part of it is we already liked Mitsuri, and the biggest surprise comes from…

Muichiro - So we start in a place where our sullen mist boy doesn’t care about anything. I was like, “man, this guy is a drag.” But the show is, of course, up to something! As Tanjiro points out with his usual boy scout demeanor, it’s important to care about other people! And then right when Muichiro’s in deep trouble within the murder bubble, we then get the full backstory. And the whole point is “hey, you’re going to feel awful and come to like this guy!” And you do! You get the story of the slain twin brother and that touching detail about the arm. It demonstrates all the reasons to feel sympathy for him and there’s a brutal effectiveness to it. It also demonstrates the reason for him to have empathy in the here and now, but the STORY of how it all comes is rather odd and we’ll come back to it when I make a larger point later!

For now, I just want to point out the curious way it sort of gets just enough substance with these new characters, but it never seems to really carry through to full completion. Like, the goal of this season is to expand the world and relationships, and yet, despite how much happens in the battle itself, in the finale it's odd how much we don’t really get any last scenes with these other three in the resolution part? It’s also odd how many other things were introduced this season, like the dad allusion / robot / sword thing, all of which seemed like it was going to be instrumental and landscape changing, and yet it all sort of just happens? Which is all part of the deeply curious way this show comes at its storytelling.

But first, an aside…

7.  RANDOM FUNNY NOTES

So I always take a million notes when watching a show like this and sometimes I have all these funny observations that don’t really fit into anything essay wise and sometimes I still just want to be like “here are the random notes and observations!” So, you know, here are the random notes and observations!

-coin flip girl, the world’s most boring two face.

-I worry about Nezuko’s design sometimes because it strikes as the appeal of someone who can be big boob demon or also “is baby.”

-Me: “Oh no, I like the horny king” (the flashy guy).

-While watching Mugen: “Ok, I’ve lost track of whose dream this is.”

-I wish I could just randomly play the audio of Inosuke yelling “gross!”

-The second we met Rengoku’s dad I was like THAT’S HIS DAD?!? THEY LOOK LIKE TWINS and this gets into the thing of how I can never tell anyone’s ages in anime? Seriously, 14 year olds are drawn to be 22 and 40 year olds are drawn to be 23. What is happening? Stop it! WHERE ARE THE FELLOW ADULTS?????

-Whenever this show starts making me like someone I’m like “oh, they’re so dead.” They might as well say things like “nothin bad gonna happen today!” like in Walk Hard.

-Random muscle mice!?!?! DO I LOVE THIS SHOW!?!??!! I actually think the show could even go FURTHER in that direction because it’s so good at punctuating the moments of endless fighting and I genuinely don’t think it messes with the tone. But I think they like playing it as safe as possible, which means “not TOO goofy! This is serious!”

-Why are the gender politics of EVERYTHING a nightmare?

-Flashy guy: “Someday I’m going to hell” / Man, this guy really likes boobs. But question, how does “flashy” translate because I feel like something’s getting lost in translation.

-My internet speed was great and other shows even worked, but for some reason my last three eps of Demon Slayer kept sputtering? I guess I am now among the ranks of people who can sometimes complain about Crunchyroll lags! More anime fan hallmarks achieved!

-I hate the swordsmith village masks so much, they are creepy.

-NO, DON’T DYE YOUR HAIR AND PRETEND TO BE WEAK FOR SOME DIPSHIT - thing I yelled at my TV.

-Why does every girl support character in anime say the phrase “I'll do my best!” as if conditioning the audience for the effort to be good enough - all while every guy is like I WILL DO IT and saves the day? Like it’s just SO obviously about keeping people in their rungs and it's so frustrating.

-OH NO old man hitting on girl ew

-OH NO not a special blood plotline!

Okay, thank you for this indulgence. Now let’s get back to…

8. STORY SPACE-TIME AND PACE

So I genuinely worry that as I've become a better narrative writer working in this dumb town I’ve also become a worse critic. I know I’ve invoked this idea before, but criticism is largely about looking at the final complete product and using words that sum up the feelings of the end reaction. If the job is to be as close to your own experience of watching something and then verbalizing it, I think I was closer to that 13 years ago or whatever when this started. But after sitting in rooms with these brilliant writers who know their shit backwards and forwards, you start to see everything in terms of these story mechanics. Basically, you learn the mechanics of substance and you learn the cheaper writer tricks that will get you by when you are in a jam. To be clear, EVERY show uses a little bit of both. The worst show has some substance. The best show has some tricks. It’s ultimately about getting the ratio toward the former. And most of all, you learn how much the ratio of these mechanics have to do with a viewer's ending reactions.

The goal is, of course, to go “the substance route” as much as possible. To create something where EVERY scene is moving the drama, character, plot, and theme along in harmony. That’s exactly why a show like The Wire, no matter how low key or “low energy,” feels absolutely involving and riveting. It’s just 100% plugged into substance (even when it’s guys saying fuck repeated as they go over a crime scene). And so much of this is about how you use the time and space of your story to pursue those four qualities. For instance, a show like Breaking Bad is so good at quietly moving Walter’s evolution forward, inch by inch, decision by decision, and always doing so by telling these contained episodic stories that perfectly crest into these season-long arcs. And what’s remarkable about both these shows is how little they fell back on the bag of tricks. I remember people saying things like “wow, what a cliff-hanger!” about Breaking Bad and I always had to point out that the reason why it was always so compelling was that they weren’t cliffhangers. Because cliffhangers are unresolved actions where the main character is in some danger and it ends abruptly (then when we come back next week, there’s often some easy, cheap fix). Instead, Breaking Bad always ended AFTER the big action, where there was some big event that moved the show forward in some way that changed the nature of the conflict (the “tread lightly” moment or dirt bike kid is a perfect example of this). And it’s what good writing does. You don’t cut away for the cheap, artificial interruption to the story. You propel it forward.

But when you’re not doing that? When you are afraid to “use up” your story because you don’t quite know how to move an arc along piece by piece? Then you fall back on a series of cheats, delays, fake outs, out of nowhere surprises, retroactive explanations, plot-blocking (when a conflict about to get expressed and someone conveniently interrupts them) and general allusions / teases to things you’re not actually actually exploring (and may never explore). In short, they are soap opera tactics.You know the ones. And to be clear, I kind of like soap operas, but they’re using these tricks to sustain this never ending, circular, recursive thing that FEELS like a story, but really they’re just forever treading water. That makes sense for that format. And it doesn’t make sense for “real dramas” by comparison. It’s just so hard to sustain interest, for one. Like THE OC was a sensation, but it used a lot of these tactics and ran out of most of their substance by end of season one, and thus had to reinvent itself with more characters. And did so pretty well for a bit! But there’s a reason I never got to the last season, either. And when it comes to these tactics in popular films, well, I’ve written enough about J.J. Abrams’ work that you get my criticism implicitly. The point is, that every single show I encounter I just *immediately* see the ratio of substance vs. tricks that they’re working with and it tells me a lot about the storytellers / show / what I should hope for it to deliver.

Battle Shonen has been an interesting journey because of how much it uses soap opera tactics. If you grew up with the Dragonballs, Narutos, etc. then you can suddenly connect the dots on how they divvy up their story’s time and pace. And “seeing all the tricks” was my biggest obstacle with the last 2/3 of FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, as it started like gangbusters and then crested into an endless series of delay tactics. Not all of them went the soap opera route, of course. Evangelion went for the full thematic fever dream. And the daring narrative progression is precisely what makes Chainsaw Man feel like something so much more focused and interesting. And what makes Demon Slayer so interesting because I think it shows both the highs and lows of the two approaches in perfect fashion.

On paper, the logic of each “arc” in the show makes sense. Once we establish Tanjiro and his journey, they find a loop we repeat again and again. Namely, there’s a big reset opening episode where the character heals (it’s also more comedically driven, which I like). Then they go forth into the world with a new mission, make a couple of discoveries as to what’s REALLY going on, and then it devolves into a big epic fight with our characters. They defeat the big demon. We Learn about the demon’s backstory and it makes a healing gesture of some sort, all having won the day. Rinse and repeat. And as far as the “shape” of the story it all makes sense. It’s ultimately a question of how it uses the space and time within that arc.

Nothing highlights the economy of this better than Mugen Train, which is the highwater mark for the entire enterprise. It’s not just that our characters are finally all established and have their group dynamics ready to go. As a story, it’s tight, focused, funny, and it has a fully concentrated relationship arc between Tanjiro and Rengoku, culminating in the loss of a new mentor. It’s the show firing on every possible cylinder, and delivering as much straightforward substance as I’ve ever seen from it. But it is at this moment that you’ll also note, “hey, isn’t Mugen Train a movie?”

Yup! It is a two hour contained story and that obviously has a lot of seeming advantages. But it also comes with the demands that you NAIL all the substance points in question. And comparatively, there’s a reason we’ve learned to dread every filmmaker who talks about their show and is like “really we made an 8 hour movie!” Because it means they likely just dragged out the rough beats of a movie with all those delay tactics. Which is my way of pointing out that doing more or less “time” isn’t an inherent problem. It’s what you do with that time. You don’t want movie tactics. You want substance TV tactics. Again, look at the way that Breaking Bad nestled little complete stories within stories. So the question for this show is how do you take Mugen Train and turn it into a 4 plus hour season? How do you make things feel like a progressive, compelling evolution?

To be clear, Demon Slayer generally does an okayish job!

For starters, they always have that overall shape as the backbone of the season. And you get the sense that *they* sense the need to cover things in this ground in a way that doesn’t just waste time, particularly when they focus in and do a good flashback episode that grows a connection with the characters (this season’s episode with Mist Boy is a good example). But what they’re really being sensitive to is the fact that they’re kind of taking on a lot in doing 11 episode seasons where the last seven episodes are basically just one giant battle. Again, it’s one of those things that sounds cool in theory, but really just makes things more difficult. Because it doesn’t matter if it's a 30 minute battle or a 3 minute battle. I’ve seen good and bad versions of both. It’s all about how you use your time. And the thing about longer battles is you NEED reset moments in so that it doesn’t just become this big long, drawn out wall of noise (which, for example, the worst of the Transformers movies are guilty of).

Again, Demon Slayer generally does an okay job of this. Sometimes an episode ends on a big learning and growth moment and I’m like, all right cool! But other times it will fall into cliffhangers or a random moment in the action where I’m like “Huh, I guess we just hit 22 minutes, I guess?” Maybe it’s such a convention of Battle Shonen that people are totally okay with it. But the whole point of everything I talk about here is “how do we do better than okay? what makes certain stories exhilarating and SPECIAL?” For instance, I’ve seen a lot of people make comparisons between Demon Slayer and Avatar: The Last Airbender and that absolutely makes sense. There are these elemental powers and bright vivid colors all coming to life in this grand, epic story. But Avatar was so outrageously good at not only nestling stories within stories, but storifying the action itself. Battles and face-offs had these beautiful ways of mapping out objectives, obstacles, and creating wrinkles that showed how characters gained advantages and disadvantages. And sometimes I see things like that in Demon Slayer! But generally speaking, the main characters are too reactive and on their heels. Plus, it loves the soap opera tactics of surprise and retroactive explanation. It also uses the overall language of “ranks,” which is good at creating an expectation in the audience, but also gives a false, arbitrary sense of escalating drama and structure (much like the leveling system in DND).

But no matter what I say about the way this show uses space and time, it always seems to have just enough substance to see it through. But there’s a very interesting thing about that substance that I touched on before. Which leads us back to…

9. THE CIRCLE OF DEMONSTRATION

So let’s go back to Muichiro.

That’s right, the one with the amnesia and his tragic relationship with his twin brother. Because I want to point out something crucial about his character: he is not actually changing. Not really. What’s happening is he’s actually just finally remembering how he used to be. Now, to be clear, there’s a way this kind of plot-line can totally work, but it’s all about rekindling a certain youthful spirit in a villain or adversary (for a simple version, think Anton Ego in Ratatouille). But totally complicating matters is that it’s just something blocked by amnesia, which is the height of circular storytelling devices. Because the lesson he “learns” in his backstory isn’t even really a thing learned, it’s a thing he inherently believed to begin with. It was his brother who didn’t, and then his brother is killed, but demonstrates the same helping others thing to him? So in the present moment he’s like “I remember all this now” and finally does the kind thing that’s inside (and fights harder, I guess). Like it’s just saying the same thing again and again. Which is why this is one of the best possible examples of the repetitive “circle of demonstration.”

Now, I imagine you’re sort of like, “huh, I guess see that, but I still felt emotional while watching it?” And that’s fine! That’s the whole thing about this kind of storytelling is it FEELS close to genuine arc-based storytelling. It FEELS like a journey because there is this kind of tangible juxtaposition in the results. But you’re not actually going from A to B, you’re going from B to B. It more just faked you out with the possibility of A… And the real problem is this dang show uses circular storytelling all the time.

Like, every time we are seeing two people you know already love each other and one is in danger, you get this flashback that is basically like, “hey remember when we said we loved each other!” and then it comes back and is like “yes, let’s love each other!” and it’s like wait, what you just said the same thing twice to reinforce the thing we were already feeling? What’s hilarious is that I swear on all that is holy I wrote that sentence BEFORE the finale where we get the big long montage of Nezuko and Tanjiro loving each whilst kicking Tanjiro to “sacrifice” herself. Meaning it’s not saying something that informs the scene in a new way, it’s lending the emotive texture. There is no actual change. It’s a B to B circle of emotional demonstration. And even the big retroactive explanation for how she doesn’t perish in the sun is “hey there’s there's a letter on the way that’s going to scientifically explain that this might happen, which is what you just learned” and they didn’t even hint at it beforehand. It’s all so damn reactive. Which brings us to the whole other set up / pay off aspect of this.

In substantive storytelling, you learn to dramatize an arc. A character has a problem they want to solve, that problem gets tested by the events of the story, they learn (or don’t learn) lessons along the way, and it ends in either success or tragedy depending. And look, there’s caveats and other things that go along with it, but that’s the core essence. Executing it well depends on setups and pay-offs and creating the moment of drama that makes your hair stand on edge just by looking at the page alone. Because you know that Demon Slayer will bring it to life with vivid animation. It’s just that question of what’s really at the core. For a good example of this dynamic, Chris Rock used to talk about this push / pull in developing stand up. He knew if he went out there with full delivery, he could probably get people to laugh with his energy and cadence alone. So when he tests out new stuff? He would go out and purposefully do it with low energy just to see if the substance of the joke itself was funny enough to get a laugh. And by special time, he would turn up the energy so the joke would kill. Believe it or not, that’s kind of what screenwriting is. You’re trying to get all the substance right on the page so the rest of the brilliant artists, animators, and actors can bring it all to life. And Demon Slayer is so, so good at all that other part. But it’s downright odd just how much they lean away from dramatization.

Like, so many new story elements just pop up out of nowhere with zero set up (like the sudden brother demon in the entertainment arc). Or, instead, the show will start doing something, then stop and explain what it’s doing right in the middle of it. Which is just using flash back to “set up “we didn’t see. Sometimes it’s very simple, like in all of Tanjiro’s pep talks where a character will want to give up and then they’ll remember Tanjiro being like, “don’t die!” and then they’re instantly like, “okay i’ll fight!” It’s either maximized juxtaposition or the circular B to B.

Because in the end, it’s not really about the evolution of the dramatized story, but repetition and reinforcement. And it’s not that it’s inherently “bad,” it’s just “safe” in a way that makes certain things difficult to truly resonate. I mean, the entire Mugen Train arc is the one that uses substantive tactics the most and there’s a reason people fucking love it. It ironmans the entire argument of what this show SHOULD be doing as much as possible. But that doesn’t mean that the show’s usual use of circular and repetitive storytelling mechanisms doesn’t have a core appeal, either. It is a blunt and clear way of telling you yes, X is about X and here you can hold this, everything is going to be clear and okay. It is meant to be reassuring.  And it brings us to the core emotional anchor of the show…

10. SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVILS

MY favorite thing about Demon Slayer is, wouldn’t you know it, the characterization of them there demons. It’s not that they’re 100% successful across the board, but they’re always the most interesting part of the show. For one, they’re part of the show’s dramatic investigative quality. Meaning we experience the clearest arcs in this show as an audience. In every new conflict like you’re always asking, “okay, what’s happening here? What is this demon capable of? Are they the big boss or mini? How are the powers manifesting? How are Tanjiro and company going to beat them?” And yeah, yeah, there’s a little too much retroactive explanation involved, but generally the show is pretty darn good at this.

There’s so many little creepy beats where I’m like “oh, that’s good!” Like the house turning drum guy, the limb-breaking spider puppeteers, the fabric weaving lady of the night, and so many more vivid little creatures. And given this creative dexterity, you really sense that it’s where the complete instincts of the storytellers (from horror to substantive) sort of feel the most inspired. Because the whole thing is it’s not JUST about making creepy bad demon guys. Ultimately, it's about building a path to sympathy for these dangerous old devils. For every defeat comes with it the reveal of a backstory that does all that good “villain stuff” of informing you how they got that way - what flaw brought them to embracing a life of murdery-ness - and what finally facing death makes them feel about that flaw in the moment. And sometimes they find peace, along with  Tanjiro watching it all with hyper-clarity. But note that I use that word sympathy very carefully. Because it’s not about having empathy for these demons or really trying to get you to philosophically bind with these choices in any way shape or form. No, it’s trying to get you to simply find them pitiable as you (the viewer) watch from your place of triumphant, moral safety.

As far as thematic explorations go, sometimes the demon’s are kinda rote. But that’s okay. Because sometimes it’s pretty compelling, too. Like I briefly mentioned above, but the moment Tanjiro sees the brother and sister demon arguing in their last seconds and then reminds them that their love for each other / relationship was the only human part of their lives remaining and that they shouldn’t waste it? I was like oh, that’s really a pretty thoughtful way of addressing their story. But my single favorite thematic exploration of a demon actually came in this last Swordsmith Village arc and I think that’s partly because what they’re doing is the most abstract (yet therapeutically clear) one yet.

That would be the “upper rank 4” Hantengu. The moment they introduced him and knowing his high rank I was like “ohhhh, however this guy fights is going to be INTERESTING” (which I acknowledge is probably the best thing that comes out of the ranking system). Because on the surface he’s so scared and meek and literally identified by his tattoo of “fear.” But what you learn is that when attacked, he separates into larger, stronger forms. And each represents a further expression of his emotion: anger, pleasure, sorrow, and joy. It’s like if in Inside Out someone tried to murder Riley and all those little colored emotions spilled out of her as large monsters and started wreaking havoc. But, just like that movie this ends up being a good way to explore the psychology of a character. It’s the way of showing how all these “confident” sides of this monster all come from this deep, weak monster who feels like everyone is beating up on him (when actually touched he goes full Trumpian). It’s such a great distillation of fear and its connection to compensating masculine instincts.

But best of all I love his backstory, because where everyone else else gets this shred of sympathy and understanding of how they made the wrong choice at some point, it instead gives this incredibly short, unforgiving little picture of a person in constant denial that draws the parallel right back to the core emotion of fear (and boy is this something I learned about in therapy). And this kind of unsympathetic stare into the dark heart of man makes sense for a show in which we are getting closer and closer to the heart of evil with every passing villain. Which is why I also liked the big revealing detail at the end of season 3 that the main Michael Jackson demon doesn’t even want any of these other demons around, he is just trying to figure out how to live forever. It’s why he’s so awful to them and further invokes a pure form of solipsism. But the thing about the story of Hantengu is that I really wish the show would find a way to make this more reflected in the characters own understanding of what they’re digging into - but it’s not really interested in that at all.

Because the show is not interested in hitting something that complex.

They’ll touch on it. They’ll dance around on it. But we are not going to have a full Evangelion like dive into the artistic heart of abstraction and our own ugly body horror evil. Because there were so many times where that show or Chainsaw Man would wow me with a Holy Shit type moment. I always felt like ANYTHING could happen. But comparatively, Demon Slayer is so, so careful about its hard lines and rough edges. Like, it’s always aiming for the sweet spot. It’s dark but not fucked up, violent but not cruel, bloody but not gore-y and gross. It wants you to feel safe in its texture of danger, but not feel like everyone is truly in actual danger (narratively speaking). It’s kind of like a dark ride in a haunted house. And as much as it works with surprise and retroactive explanation, it wants to keep you on the rails. Even the whole thing about the circular storytelling and the telling-you-things-in-the-moment with juxtapositions is about reassurance. It is telling you that this is accessible and safe and clear and a fun romp, come dive in as we go along. And I realized how much this approach reminds me of a certain other property, which wouldn’t you know it, is also one of the most popular things in the world…

I am talking about the MCU.

Just like Demon Slayer, there’s better and worse stories within the oeuvre, along with real, genuine, substantive high points. But you don't always FEEL that up and down because they all come out to the same level of generally entertaining standards. And I’m realizing just how much of the same tactics apply in their creation. Like the movies are full of the circular storytelling, delay tactics, and teasing, but always just enough high points to keep you interested. Both are completely born out of that instinct not to be too challenging. With both, you don’t have to always pay close attention. So instead of setting things up it will hit you with the “right now” explanation so you are good to go. And the emotion at the heart of both shows is sympathy. Which is one that can make a viewer feel both emotional, helpful, and just in their own empowered existence, looking down at the others who don’t have it as good. And both of these enterprises are a very, very specific kind of “smooth good.” Which means all these criticisms I’m making, all these supposed “bugs” in the system that I’m talking about?

They’re not bugs…

They’re a feature.

EPILOGUE - PINSTRIPES & IPHONES

Again, there is that question: why is it the most popular anime ever?

I happened to be looking up examples of great all-time great anime (to see more of what I should be watching) and someone had a bunch of classics listed, but they put this show as their number one. Granted, the explanation is very logic driven and obviously displays some recency bias (it was also written before this past season), but they said as follows: “This anime includes every important part for an excellent anime from the main character’s purity and growing to friends with the spirit of brotherhood and respect for any characters. The battle scenes between demon slayers with swords and unique demon characters are intense, which is beautifully drawn. Each character’s past and background including even demons is respectfully depicted in this anime… This franchise has not completed yet, but it is safe to say that Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba will grow to represent the best anime in Japan and around the world.” They might as well say “it checks all the logical boxes” and I’m sort of curious what they’d say now? And moreover, I’m sort of curious if people are becoming sensitive to what’s really going on here in terms of the dichotomy of the show’s effectiveness. What is it that it is REALLY making this so popular on that kind of level?

There’s a great exchange from Catch Me If You Can where Leo’s character and his father (an all time Walken performance) are talking about the Yankees and they say:

“You know why the Yankees always win, Frank?”

“Cause they have Mickey Mantle?”

“No, it's 'cause the other teams can't stop staring at those damn pinstripes.”

There’s a reason the motif that gets used again and again in the film and it is because it speaks to this kind of inherent duality. Yes, the Yankees have Mickey Mantle, an undeniably great baseball player, but there’s that flair and appearance and gusto that goes along with the mystique. And as a storyteller, the work needs that substantive sense of taste, but there’s so much that can also be done in the conning sense with the dazzling flair and distinction. Yup, it’s all the “bag of tricks” stuff I mentioned above, which can FEEL powerful with vivid direction. But I actually like taking the pinstripe metaphor going one further, because it highlights something else at the heart of this elegance, which is the safety of it. To which, I also ask:

Why is the IPhone the most popular in the world?

It’s the polish. The smooth lines. To ability to hold the comfy thing in your hand. But it’s also the comforting consistency. Because in the end, familiarity is not a sin. But to many, a boon. I mean, the reason Bud Light is the most popular beer is because it goes down the most smooth. It’s easy and accessible. But I want to make it clear: this does NOT make it the lowest common denominator. Just like people assume that making something accessible means it’s “easy to make.” It is not. In fact, it’s actually quite hard! (which is part of why critics and the lowest common denominator thing drives me nuts). Because if other companies could do Budweiser they would do Budweiser. But most can’t crack that code of that so-called “simplicity.” And that’s because making things accessible is its own powerful skill. And it takes a certain sense of taste. Companies spent MILLIONS if not BILLIONS trying to get that exact balance right. It’s why McDonalds tastes like McDonalds and not a million other things you’ve had.

And to find that same kind of pitch perfect balance with art? To do what the MCU did? Especially given the randomness of the artistic process? Believe it or not, it is even harder. Because it’s so hard to grab a lot of eyeballs. And it is easy to rankle the audience in a big way. The rotten tomatoes fabled “100 percent” is not about making the most moving film, but getting the biggest percentage of one's “liking it” without offense. It is the barometer of accessibility. All part of that old Howard Hawks quote I keep invoking lately of how a good movie is one with “three great scenes and no bad ones.” There is an art to this. And the Kevin Feiges and the Harou Sotozakis seem to have a lock on it in a way that few other artists do.

But me? I’ve always liked my art popcorn fare a little more aspirational. Something that isn’t afraid to be messier, odder, and daring. Not just because it reveals more of the fallible humane nature of the people who made it, but also because it is what allows the art to reach the heights of possibility. To find the grand state of genuine awe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect the art polish, either. Because there IS a deep skill in that. Just as there is something to be said for pinstripes and the ole’ razzle dazzle, especially when mixed with just the right amount of substance to give it a healthy base. That’s narrative accessibility in a nutshell. It’s what Demon Slayer has. And I guarantee you that every production company in the world would want to bottle it. Because if there’s any lesson to take from the tech products and digital services of our modern world: it’s that which is most accessible? Dominates.

The real question is how much longer it will actually stick with us…

Before we upgrade to the new model.

<3HULK

Files

Comments

Anonymous

Just one thought on the persistence of the perv industrial complex in the modern world. I don't know how much you know about the japanese modern society and culture but it is very... Very, very patriarchal and misogynistic. And it takes decades so move things for even a centimeter.

Anonymous

So, here's the more in-depth comment I promised. I watched season 1 in November and December of last year; never got further. It gave me a lot to think about; I wrote down some of my impressions on the RPGnet forums, in the "Non-Current Anime" thread, if you're curious. MORALITY One thing I thought about was the moral universe the show inhabits. Tanjiro's sympathy for the devils is one thing he gets a lot of praise for, and it's absolutely there. It's also of no consequence. His compassion for the demons he fights never makes a difference in how a conflict is resolved; it never opens up new possibilities. So what does matter? There's a few parts that stick out to me, specifically in episodes 1 and 24. At the climax of episode 1, the 19-year-old Giyuu looks at a 13-year-old boy, a child whose family has just been massacred, who begs him not to kill his sister, the last survivor. And his response… is to berate that child for not being strong enough to MAKE him let her go, by force. And I don't think the story is framing him as being wrong. After all, Tanjiro responds by stepping up and attacking. Like a Real Man. And it's only after that that the moment where Nezuko shields him becomes possible. In episode 24, Tanjiro and pals are working on their rehab, but get stuck. Zenitsu and Inosuke get discouraged, and Tanjiro stands out as the one who never gives up or loses determination. As a result, he wins the girls' admiration, and as a reward, he gets… the info nobody had given them yet about what they needed to do to improve. As someone who struggles a lot with depression and discouragement, this whole Goofus-and-Gallant dynamic of our hero being lauded for not having the natural response to being set up to fail gave me complicated feelings; I spilled a lot of bytes on that. "Goofus and Gallant", by the way, was my answer to why Zenitsu is there, at least in the first arcs: to make Tanjiro look better. Episode 12 in particular comes to mind, with the narration emphasizing how Tanjiro, unlike the screaming Zenitsu, is stoically fighting despite broken bones, because that's his ~spirit of an eldest son~. So what does Demon Slayer ACTUALLY value? The most conventional of shonen manga virtues: "strength" and "being a hard worker", and also the stiff-upper-lip endurance of ~gaman~. For a long time, the guidelines for storytelling in Weekly Shonen Jump were "Yūjō, Doryoku, Shōri" -- friendship, hard work, victory. (I had to laugh when Tanjiro's narration in ep24 said "Doryoku! Doryoku! Doryoku!".) It doesn't really feel like a step forward to me. THE FINAL SELECTION I'm gonna take a break to muse on something that really bothers me, even though it's a more plotty thing and probably something I'm not supposed to care about. The Final Selection is absurd -- but absurd in an interesting way. It regularly kills the vast majority of its applicants, wasting all the resources put into training them. It makes no sense for a fighting force, let alone one with ten ranks. I've seen this before, though. When reading about battle shonen, you may have come across the name Hunter x Hunter. It's set in a world where "Hunter" is the most prestigious and lucrative career. It's broadly defined enough to include treasure hunters, big game hunters, bounty hunters, whatever. But to be a licensed Hunter, you have to pass an exam, which makes up the first arc. LOTS of people die in that arc, and it's treated as normal. There are no schools to learn to be a Hunter, just the exam. I think HxH recognizes how weird this is, though it plays it with a straight face. I'm not sure Demon Slayer has the same awareness. For a milder example, think of My Hero Academia episode 5, with Aizawa's guarantee that whoever does worst is guaranteed to be expelled like it's American Idol. It reminds me of Naruto's mentor character Kakashi, who's introduced presenting the heroes with an exam he says 2/3 of them are guaranteed to fail -- and later we find out he's failed ALL his past pupils. It all feels like the same thing to me -- a test's harshness just means it's all the more impressive for your hero to pass. I have to wonder how much of this comes from battle manga's roots in sports manga (see: the ever-popular tournament arcs), or maybe from the famously tough entrance exams to get into good high schools and colleges in Japan. WHAT WOULD I DO? I (not a fiction writer yet, but trying to get there) thought a lot about how I'd change the characters and narrative structure to be more relationship/arc based, and more compelling based on what I've learned from you, Hulk. Episode 19 is the most beloved episode of season 1, and maybe still the entire show. That episode is deeply concerned with "family", so I thought about how the rest of the show could best support that. (Insert F&F joke here.) I feel like the best version of the show I watched (which, again, was just S1) would be about two kids having to form a new family to stop the tyrannical man who destroyed theirs -- to stop a dominating force antithetical to love and mutual support. Like so many viewers, I wished Nezuko could've been more than a combat toddler -- her refusal to fight in episode 23 remains one of my favorite moments. How does she feel about the kindest person she knows carrying a sword and greeting the dawn covered in blood? About missing two years of his life? What WOULD a real arc for Tanjiro's relationship with her look like? What could you explore with a girl we saw mending worn clothes and bearing hardship with a smile becoming a creature of nearly-pure id? Tanjiro is of course the Good Boy, the kind eldest son who willingly endures any suffering and protects his family. It's part of what makes him so likable -- but I think I'd want to explore how it can act as a flaw. His desire to protect Nezuko is unquestionably noble and sympathetic, and also a trauma response rooted in the loss and helplessness of the worst day of his life -- he fears losing her above all else, suggesting a character arc about facing that fear, accepting the risk, letting go of some control. Becoming more open to letting her fight by his side and be the one to support HIM. Realizing they're in this together. Because a healthy family means mutual support, mutual trust, space for vulnerability and weakness. And… a stronger arc about processing grief in general might be good too. Going back to "how can episode 19 be most effective", that flashback of Dad's dance? That sort of thing should've been seeded throughout the show, to make us feel the weight of what these children have lost. Setup and payoff, order of information, like you always say. And see if you can take the kagura talk and work in a bit with little Nezuko talking about how nice the sun feels -- shortly before we see her having dug a hole to avoid it. How would I reconfigure Zenitsu to fit into this? I'd tone down the creepiness and cowardice and make him into a Sokka type, into "the complainer". So he steps up when people need him, but he'll never stop pointing out when shit is fucked. He'll drive the nurses nuts coming up with new colorful descriptions of how awful the medicine tastes, but still take every dose. And he'll complain on other people's behalf, too -- "No, you're NOT fine. I've been listening to three of your ribs make noises ribs should not be making ever since we left the freaky spinny house." As for how Inosuke would complete the quartet's dynamic? Not really sure. A NOTE ON MANGA You've said you're a fan of Lone Wolf and Cub, but I still feel it'd be good to dip into modern manga at SOME point, to see this plotty weirdness in its native environment. (Shonen Jump existed when LW&C ran, but that was before they'd really developed their formulae with titles like Ring ni Kakero, Kinnikuman, Fist of the North Star, Dragon Ball, and Saint Seiya.) If you don't want to make an exception to your "no source" policy, then maybe something you're not going to watch the anime for -- like Dragon Ball or Ranma, something that takes far more time in anime form.

Chaos_Alfa

I do recommend to be cautious to paint a whole culture with one brush. Only looking at (a subsection of) media to understand it can result in a skewed impression.

Anonymous

…You know, I just realized something. I was thinking about how great Susamaru the Temari Demon's death is, and how well it drives home the demons being Muzan's victims as much as the humans they kill. That's the good stuff there. It's Fire Lord Ozai, it's Immortan Joe. It's some of the material that comes closest to Demon Slayer being the show I wanted it to be. And thinking of it in those terms, I realized there was something very concrete season 1 HADN'T set up, that both those works had introduced in their first minutes. It didn't have a Zuko, a Nux. It didn't have someone who was lost in Muzan's abusive power structure, who we could root for to escape it. The kind of character whose life could be changed by empathy from someone like Tanjiro. The only good demons had never served Muzan at all. Which gets to another question I was never sure about, and that might be REALLY important to Demon Slayer's themes. Is the path Nezuko took a path available to all demons, if they're just willing to say no to the hunger, make that painful choice, over and over? Or is it just because she's special?

-Y-

Complete misread on Zenitsu, Hulk. He doesn't have an avatar state. He has his wakeful completely choking state, and his unconscious state where he sleepwalks into killing demons. Minor spoilers ahead. If you could sum his character in a sentence "Don't fear the man who knows 1,000 techniques. But fear the man that has practiced one technique 1,000 times." He's that man, but his insecurities prevent him from being that 100% of the time. Fact he's sleepwalking killing everyone should clue you in how strong he actually is. He's desperately looking for a wife (being pervy, again misread) because he doesn't think he's cut out to be a Demon Slayer.

-Y-

He misread his character. Read as in what that character is supposed to be. Also not a fan of you want of turning Zenitsu into Sokka, he's better as his own character than a copy of someone else.

filmcrithulk

I could debate the first part (because i get what you're saying but that's not really how the character is brought to life at first) but there is absolutely no way to misread the pervy part and I'd wager most here would agree? Like, those first few episodes with him are pretty... stark

Anonymous

There is a...thing in a lot of anime, shonen especially but I think it's an approach that writers take across genre, where characters aren't really supposed to change? A lot of stories and a lot of character dynamics hinge on the exact thing you were describing with the amnesia developments; we're not supposed to be watching a character grow and transform, we're watching someone *get more in touch with their true self*. This idea, of honing yourself to become more of who you are, is a theme that shows up everywhere and it dovetails really nicely with how trope-heavy a lot of story construction is because it means the writers can give us a lot of shorthand to sketch out "this is what kind of person this is" and then they're largely going to stay that person and just shift in how they relate to being such a type of person. Once I started paying attention to this I found it really helpful on an explanatory level, but I'm not going to lie, the fact that in anime it so rarely feels like characters are meant to surprise us by growing or acting in unexpected ways gets pretty personally annoying.

-Y-

You let the pervy parts blind you to the core of the character. What is Zenitsu most prominent emotion? What does he do 100% of screen time, rather than just when women are around? Fear. Fear of demons. Fear of dying. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of dying alone. He's not Hulk. He's reverse Hulk. He can turn into super-powered being anytime he's not afraid. Except he's constantly afraid. And cause of his fear is very obvious. Anything more and I'll spoil Infinity Castle (future arc). But put it mildly, Zenitsu awake could solo most demons we've seen so far. I must admit I like Zenitsu, he's great example how to make a one-move pony, more fun.