An American Writer's Thoughts on Japanese Animation

Cute Kids in a Nature Documentary of Gygaxian Nightmares – Made in Abyss Spoiler Review

Made in Abyss is the story of a journey through a realm of both wonder and threat, in search of a distant and fairly nebulous goal. It has a very constrained cast, setting, and even timeline, but the world feels massive and expansive because of how it’s portrayed.

The best way to deal with Made in Abyss, in my opinion, is to just dive right in.

We follow a girl named Riko. Riko lives in an orphanage in Orth, a city built around the mysterious, harrowing pit known as The Abyss, and trains to be a “cave raider” like her parents, someone who goes down into the Abyss to find and recover its mysterious treasures. Along with the other orphans, she does mild work in the shallows of the first layer of the Abyss, where things are still fairly safe. It turns out it’s not all that safe, though, as a flying monster from deeper down attacks Riko. She’s saved when a mysterious light cuts clean through the beast (and melts through the terrain around as well), which leads her to the discovery of a an unconscious robot boy. She and some of the other kids take charge of the boy, naming him Reg when he comes to.

Shortly after, a message is delivered to Orth from the depths of the Abyss. It comes from Riko’s mother, the legendary cave raider known as Lyza the Annihilator. Though the presence of the package means the world believes her dead, it contained a message for Riko, saying that her mother would be waiting for her at the bottom of the Abyss.

The bottom of the Abyss, however, is a place that no one has ever seen, nor that there is any true knowledge of. Getting there is also a one-way trip. The Abyss is divided into “Layers”, and possesses what’s known as the “Curse”, which manifests when one tries to ascend. The Curse gets worse the deeper you go. Beneath the fifth layer, no one can actually come back to the surface. The deepest known layer is the seventh, with no bottom yet.

All the same, Riko is determined to go, and Reg is all set to help her, in part because he would seem to be from the depths of the Abyss and, since he has no memory, might learn the truth of his existence down there. As a robot, rather than a human, he’s immune to the effects of the Curse, and his incredible durability, extending grappling hook arms, and killer laser cannon will certainly help navigation and survival on the way down. They escape the Orphange, and head into the depths.

From there, their trip downward takes them to a base camp in the Second Layer run by Ozen the Immovable, a veteran cave raider who was the mentor of Riko’s mother. Ozen is somewhat terrifying, but also teaches the kids about the Abyss and their quest. For every question she answers, though, the encounter with her raises more, and she sends Riko and Reg on their way not with fewer mysteries, but with better mysteries.

In the depths of the Fourth layer, however, the pair hits a snag when they’re attacked by a particularly powerful foe known as an Orbed Piercer. The vicious animal leaves Riko suffering from a horrific poison, their escape from it hits her with the fourth layer’s curse (bleeding from every orifice), and the first aid Reg tries to give her at her direction isn’t very pleasant either. As Riko appears to die, a sort of, um, cute rabbit monster named Nanachi appears. Nanachi can save Riko’s life, and even her arm (which Reg was set to amputate) but has some requests. Along with Reg attempting to fulfill them we learn that Nanachi, along with the strange sort of immortal blob creature she lives with, Mitty, was originally human, and that the two of them gained their current forms thanks to the experiments of a mad scientist cave raider, Bondrewd the Novel, who maintains a base of operations at the bottom of the Fifth Layer, just before the point of no return.

Ultimately, Riko is saved and healed, and Reg is (as is Nanachi’s wish), able to put the otherwise unkillable Mitty out of her miserable existence of suffering with his laser. The three of them agree to go on to the bottom of the Abyss together, a journey that will fairly shortly bring them into conflict with Bondrewd…

And that’s where the anime, such as we have it, ends: the group leaving Nanachi’s hideout, further adventure as the destination. That doesn’t sound like a lot for a season of show, does it?

Part of that is that Reg, Riko, and Nanachi aren’t really the stars of Made in Abyss. The star is, ultimately, the Abyss itself. The entire show often feels not unlike a nature documentary, showing us the sometimes grisly, sometimes beautiful way that things live and die in the unique environment of the Abyss. This is accomplished through the cinematography, the narration (usually from Riko, though Nanachi and Ozen also have their moments of explaining how something works), and the fact that most episodes are framed around one or more encounters the kids have on their trek down, letting us investigates some of the strange wildlife.

Because of this, it’s very much a “man versus nature” conflict. While human forces can provide some opposition, more comes simply from the Abyss itself. True, Ozen goes to town on Reg when they first meet and Bondrewd is pretty awful, but the former is ultimately a friend while the latter hasn’t been properly met by our central pair just yet. The Abyss is both the setting and the antagonist as well as being the primary focus. We know how it, and everything within its ecosystem, lives and breathes, how they get light and food. We know the mechanics of the Curse, the evolutionary adaptations of the deep-dwelling predators, and the life-cycles of creatures that are born and die where humans only intrude at great peril.

Yet, despite that, there’s a lot of mystery baked into the premise and execution. In the Abyss, people can find skeletons, which date to two thousand year intervals and are all found in praying positions. On the other hand, in Orth people are mysteriously dying just before their birthdays, but one case suggests this is related to Orth itself and possibly the Abyss as a sick kid recovers at once when taken out to sea. And while that strangely regular timer is coming due and the birthday “disease” is in place, we don’t yet know the mechanism that could threaten Orth.

Perhaps Bondrewd knows? Or perhaps the answer awaits even deeper?

All this and more will not be answered in the current run of Made in Abyss. I’m caught up with the manga (at least the volumes released in English) and while I have more answers, I also have more questions yet. Better questions, perhaps (just like Ozen left our heroes with) but questions all the same.

This is also a fantastically gorgeous show. The art is honestly above and beyond, particularly when it comes to the environments and monsters. It shouldn’t be understated, though, that this includes when horrific subjects are in frame. Made in Abyss is not sparing with its shots of a little girl being subjected to horrific violence. It is numbed a little by the nature documentary feel of the whole show, so that it doesn’t seem like Riko is being tortured when the Abyss makes her bleed out of her eyes or Reg breaks her arm to make a clean cut for amputation, but she’s still absolutely suffering… and some moments, like Ozen thrashing Reg or Bondrewed turning Nanachi and Mitty into the creatures they become have human malice as well as that unflinching approach to pain. Made in Abyss will absolutely take you dark places, and can border on the horror genre at times.

However, I feel that works to the show’s advantage. In walking on the line between Adventure, Mystery, and Horror it finds a sweet spot where you’re actually able to be drawn in by the environment at just about every level. And, as much as I’ve repeated and repeated that this is a show about a place, I also have to give credit to Made in Abyss’s handling of emotional moments. You can feel Riko’s excitement and enthusiasm when she’s examining something new, and the joy of her discovery. When she gets her mother’s letter, you also feel her desperation, and the powerful need that draws her down into the Abyss. And once there, we get some dynamite human scenes as well. For instance, when Reg thinks he’s lost Riko before Nanachi appears? It’s incredibly well sold and framed, to make you understand Reg’s grief and helplessness.

Take also the pair’s encounter with Ozen the Immovable. I’ve alluded to this sequence before, but in greater detail, she does a few things that work on the psychological level. She reveals that the “Curse-repelling vessel” in which Riko was brought to the surface after being born in the Abyss did not, in fact, protect against the Curse – the relic, instead, resurrected the stillborn Riko. Other flesh animated by the vessel crawls mindlessly to the Abyss, as though to throw itself in, down to the bottom. So is Riko’s desire to reach the depths of the Abyss her own will, or the siren call of her status as a being given life only through the power of the Abyss? Is she even human? And when Ozen fights Reg, and hands him his ass, she does it to prove that his strength alone, without skill and cunning, won’t protect Riko or see them to the bottom. Though she’s ruthless, and hurts Reg both physically and emotionally, she does it (like most of the cruel things she does) to force Reg and Riko to rise to the challenge that awaits them, preparing them for what their journey will require. In that, Ozen’s role is fairly complicated; she act as as both an antagonist and a mentor, though she ultimately leans more on the mentor side when she drops the ruthless act.

Ozen, however, is small potatoes next to Bondrewd.

When dealing with Nanachi, we get an extended flashback to the history between Nanachi, Mitty, and Bondrewd. We see how Nanachi lived as a starving orphan in a different land, unwanted and friendless, and how Nanachi became one of the children that Bondrewd the Novel would bring into the Abyss. We also see Nanachi meet Mitty, a gregarious and outgoing girl who becomes Nanachi’s first and only friend. Nanachi is also quite bright, and bonds with Bondrewd as his assistant as well as with Mitty as a friend, and at first it seems as though he’s a kind, paternal figure. When the rug is pulled and Bondrewed puts Mitty and Nanachi into a machine intended to subject them to the sixth layer’s Curse that causes loss of humanity, the horror is not just Nanachi being forced to watch as Mitty, someone that Nanachi cares about with everything inside, is reduced to the immortal yet invalid flesh-blob that we later see. It’s not just that and Nanachi’s own transformation from human child into rabbit monster. It’s the betrayal, how Bondrewed, still speaking like an almost kindly parent, is inflicting this horror upon them.

And, even after Nanachi’s transformation, even after subjecting Mitty to more and more rounds of pain to test the limits of her regeneration, Bondrewd’s attitude, unlike his actions, remains freakishly kindly. It’s deeply unnerving, as I’m sure it was meant to be.

And, on the topic of things that hurt in a way that indicates the writer, director, and actors are doing something very right, there’s Mitty’s final death. We understand, thanks to the long flashback, that Mitty has been both stripped of her human dignity and left in a condition where she’s suffering constant pain and can only be promised more going forward. We know by the time it happens that Nanachi’s request, for Reg to obliterate Mitty utterly with his incinerator and end her existence, is very much a mission of mercy that has to be done now if it’s ever to be accomplished.

And yet, saying goodbye to Mitty that way, even in her horrifically reduced state, is an agonizing moment. It’s one of the hardest scenes I’ve ever encountered in anime to watch without starting up the waterworks. And despite everything about it being so powerfully moving, which naturally involves some calculation on the part of the author and director, it doesn’t feel forced and manipulative. There’s a real connection: you know how Mitty is basically a good person and what this end represents, and you also know how much Mitty means to Nanachi, and what putting her out of her misery must mean, how desperately it weighs on Nanachi’s heart. Because of this, when Nanachi acts out, you feel like there’s nothing else that could have been done. It’s what had to happen, and it’s both natural and potent for that.

That’s a high bar to meet in any show, much less one that doesn’t have the interpersonal relationships of its cast as its first or even really its second or third priority. This is a fourth-string element for Made in Abyss, and it still manages to be one of the strongest executions of its type.

And, I think, that shows why I feel that I have to give Made in Abyss and A+. It’s not just strong in its chosen arena, or even some secondary metrics, it’s strong everywhere. The particular combination of world-building details, harrowing adventure, esoteric mystery, visceral horror, and even emotional drama is something that very few shows reach for and even fewer could ever hope to achieve. It has a massive arsenal of strengths and, shockingly, basically no weaknesses, no negatives that I can level against it. I guess it’s unfinished, but for being based on a continuing manga, they gave Made in Abyss a powerhouse arc, cutting at a point that both felt like a natural conclusion for this act of the story and that set up the continuation in a powerful way, presaging the conflict with Bondrewd. It is, certainly, not for everyone. I’d say that you need a strong stomach to really dive into Made in Abyss, and it would probably be best to steel yourself in general. This show does not pull its punches and is therefore not for the faint of heart. But, once again, I feel that what could be a weakness is leveraged to strength. Made in Abyss is a clear, consistent, and uncompromising vision of a ruthless world of survival; none of its darkness feels manufactured or edgy for the sake of being edgy.

While Made in Abyss isn’t my favorite anime of all time by any means, it is one of the strong contenders for the title of “best”. And that’s not something you can say often at all.