Review of Devilman: Crybaby

Note: This review contains some spoilers of the last two episodes. In order to review something as ridiculous as Devilman: Crybaby, I first have to mention the three things that it's not: - It's not character-driven - It's not plot-driven - It's not made to be a "fun time" But Devilman not being any of the three things I listed is 100% okay. Maybe the premise is a little misleading, in that it seems to promise the classic Hero's Journey, before then taking you into a partly episodic, somewhat plotless, demon-of-the-week sesh. Gone are the perfectly paced out rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution that you might haveexpected--or wanted. Gone, also, are any character progression arcs, where a character grows from point A to point B by the end of the series, in a way that is nicely paced with visible checkpoints along the way. In retrospect, this may have been because director Masaaki Yuasa decided that he couldn't give two shits about this kind of stuff, a risk he was willing to take in favor of achieving something else. The execution of Devilman's plot/story is easily its weakest link, but that doesn't mean the story it's attempting to tell, and the depth of content that it's trying to explore, is nonexistent; and neither does it mean that Devilman completely fails at telling it. Similarly when considering the characters, just because they don't exhibit any drastic changes along their journey doesn't mean that they're not worthy, living, breathing characters to the viewers. For example, I found the protagonist Akira and his love interest Miki incredibly unrelatable and unrealistic--but despite that, they worked.

For those of you who have already completed this series, lemme propose something.

The flat, two-dimensional characters Akira and Miki are flat and two-dimensional for two reasons: 1) to serve as foils for the rest of the human/demon population, and 2) to drive home various messages the show is trying to communicate by subverting our expectations when these characters are killed off. When the angelic Miki is slaughtered before our very eyes, then reduced to nothing but a bunch of disconnected limbs, we fully realize the devastation and horror of the situation. For how can a character as simply constructed as Miki die in such a blunt and unforgiving way? Aren't these types of stereotypical waifus supposed to have plot armor of the highest degree? And then there's Akira, who so passionately and unrealistically defends the humans, and perhaps seems like a cheesy excuse for a protagonist--only to fail anyway, with his death communicated to us so abruptly. Tropey, overpowered heroes like Akira are supposed to prevail in the end, but in the context of the story, his death almost feels pointless; it fails to save a single life, and at this point, one realizes the futility and absurdity of the situation at the series' conclusion. In this way, Akira and Miki are good characters not because they are complex, relatable, and realistic, but because they serve their purpose to the show effectively. They are indispensable through and through.

But that's not to say that Yuasa is incapable of portraying well-developed, well-fleshed out characters deserving of empathy. Take a look at Miko. The saddest part of the series for me was not when Miki was slashed, but rather when Miko had to kill herself after proclaiming her love for running and begging their pursuers to spare Miki; and another part that surprisingly hit home is when Ryou came to the realization of his absolute and crushing loneliness after losing his one and only friend. While Akira and Miki's personality traits and actions were predictable, it was these moments with Miko and Ryou that surprised me and made me ultimately feel something (a lot of things) toward the characters.

I think the shot in Episode 9 of Miki, Miko, and Akira running together as children perfectly sums up the narrative that is Devilman: Crybaby: that it's possible for this show to take you from mass hysteria and gruesome violence to the tender, delicate moments of youth in a matter of seconds, sometimes at a speed that would give you whiplash. Sure, it can be sloppy and frustrating at first, but then Yuasa crams in so much depth and emotion into a few little scenes with no exposition required, and suddenly it's a totally different show. And in my opinion, this element of surprise is Devilman's greatest strength, because it is thanks to the earlier messiness that I was able to better appreciate (retroactively) these moments of sparseness. And coincidence or not, it was also these moments where the characters were at their most vulnerable and their most human: from the simple and straightforward way Miki's death was drawn/animated, to the quiet way Ryou's childhood with Akira was portrayed, to the final scene when everyone on Earth is dead, leaving him completely alone.

At this point, I was both touched and saddened by these somewhat simple scenes, and I encountered a moment of absolute clarity. I'm not going to spend the rest of this already too-long review talking about my interpretation of Devilman's message and whatever, but I think it's important to recognize that, in this way, Yuasa succeeded in doing what he and his team probably initially set out to do: drive home a key message to the viewer. Along these lines, I could then finally recognize the sheer amount of effort these people put into creating this adaptation, and how well they had done it. Devilman sacrifices delivering a cohesive story in favor of communicating a powerful and disturbing idea. Sure, when considering my personal preferences, I'd dock points for Yuasa not prioritizing both, but I think it's important to recognize that this is solely due to my personal preferences. A series does not have to check off in the most oversimplified criteria of storytelling (linear plot, developing characters, formulaic pacing, etc.) in order to be considered "good." And a series that decides to abandon these criteria for more experimental elements, and pulls off these elements fairly well, and surprises me and wounds me and makes me think, will get my respect no matter what.

And, ya know, in the end, that's all you need to do.

Final rating: 7.5/10