Editorials
Diving into the Heart of ‘Devilman Crybaby’ 5 Years Later
Sometimes, it takes an outsider’s point of view to reveal the peculiarities of traditional belief systems – especially when it comes to religion. This is likely why so many people are fascinated with Japanese artists that incorporate Western religion into their work. From the apocalypse of Neon Genesis Evangelion to the pacifism behind Trigun, there’s a long history of anime and manga borrowing from Christian imagery and beliefs in order to tell engaging stories.
In fact, one of the most successful examples of this special kind of cultural fusion happened back in 1972 with the release of Go Nagai’s seminal manga series, Devilman. Long before the days of similar hell-themed heroes like Spawn and Hellboy (or even Marvel’s revamped Ghost Rider, which came out a couple of months later), Nagai cooked up a horror/superhero hybrid that managed to turn a demonic outbreak into a terrifying anti-war parable.
Despite the series’ strange artwork and graphic violence, it became a surprise hit amongst shonen fans, leading to numerous adaptations that tended to tone down the source material. It was only in 2018 that we’d see a new adaptation attempt to tackle Nagai’s original tragic ending, courtesy of a partnership between Netflix and Science Saru. And with the ensuing Devilman Crybaby celebrating its 5th anniversary, I think that this is the perfect time to look back on the brilliance of this infamous modern-day reboot.
A fan of the original manga, Science Saru co-founder Masaaki Yuasa jumped at the opportunity to revisit one of Japan’s most underrated superheroes once Netflix informed the team that they wouldn’t be held back by pesky Network Television guidelines. Not only did this mean that the studio could try their hand at concluding the story with the aforementioned tragic finale, but it also allowed Yuasa to up the violence and sexuality, with the director figuring that Nagai’s original work had been naturally censored by 1970s shonen sensibilities.
Other changes included a Greek chorus of sorts in the form of hip-hopping teenagers (which replace the traditional bullies of the manga), as well as elements of social media outrage once news of the demons gets out. And in a clever fourth-wall breaking twist, the original Devilman anime somehow exists in this world, showing up on TV and posters as the story goes on. However, the overall plot remains largely the same as the manga, especially when it comes to characterizing our noble protagonist.
“Demons exist. There could be one right next to you.”
In the finished series, we follow sensitive high school athlete Akira Fudo as he reconnects with his childhood friend Ryo Asuka and discovers that demons exist. After a plan to expose the demons in a nightclub goes awry, Akira becomes possessed by the demonic influence of “Amon” but manages to resist his murderous urges through sheer force of will, transforming into the super-powered Devilman in the process. What follows is a peculiar mix of gory super-hero adventures and wartime paranoia as Akira comes to terms with his new abilities while navigating a world torn apart by the newly revealed existence of demons.
Much like its source material, Devilman Crybaby is much more than the sum of its bizarre parts. From brutal gore and extremely graphic sex scenes to moments of genuinely touching teenage drama, there’s nothing else quite like it even in the anime world. While the plot initially follows familiar superhero tropes as our young protagonist learns how to use his powers for the greater good, this premise is eventually abandoned in favor of a fascinating geopolitical allegory that dives into the consequences of prejudice and media manipulation.
This ambitious tapestry of narrative threads means that the pacing is a bit wild, with the story allowing almost no time for the viewer to reflect on events as conflict continuously escalates in 20-minute episodes that have little to no breathing room, but this ends up giving Devilman Crybaby an infectious energy that keeps you hooked from the very beginning.
As if that wasn’t enough, the animation alone here is already enough to keep up your eyes glued to the screen. Science Saru is known for their highly stylized action (which is likely why they were hired for last year’s Scott Pilgrim Takes Off), but the Netflix budget and minimalist art style make this one of their best and most fluid works yet. Vivid colors and solid motion make for some of the most memorable visuals in animation history, and it’s all boosted by a kick-ass soundtrack that effortlessly mixes techno, hip-hop and rock into a unified experience.
“You’re not a demon, you’re not a human either.”
Of course, it’s the horror elements that make this superhero story stand out, and while the disturbing monster designs and excessively detailed gore are terrifying enough, it’s the faith-based terrors that make Devilman Crybaby such a chilling show. Borrowing from the darker side of Christianity and human history as it depicts a society on the verge of collapsing while humans turn on each other, this is one of the most unique takes on religious horror to ever come out of Japan. The origins of these demons and the angelic antagonist might not be 100% “lore-accurate,” but the scenes showing how Christian characters react to this terrifying test of faith are proof that the creators took the source material seriously.
These quieter moments make the horror hit that much harder, with the show juggling themes of family and identity while also showing that the demons can often be more human than human as they indulge in mindless sex and violence. I also really appreciate how Akira doesn’t really have a traditional character arc, starting out as a sensitive and caring person and continuing to celebrate these qualities to the bitter end like a slightly more demonic Superman.
And speaking of the end, you can’t discuss the first adult-oriented Devilman adaptation without diving into its controversial ending. While I won’t get into details in order to avoid spoilers for newcomers, I will say that this is the perfect conclusion to a story about the horrors of war and persecution even if it does come out of left field. Honestly, I’d rank it up there with The Mist as one of the most meaningful downer endings of all time.
At its core, Devilman Crybaby is a story about the viral nature of empathy and hatred, which is something that we’ve seen play out in real life time and time again since the anime’s release. Science Saru may have recontextualized the story for a new generation, but moments like that final relay race where students literally pass a baton of empathy to each other in the middle of the climactic showdown are proof that the studio understood the decidedly human heart of Nagai’s creation.
Sexy, brutal and captivating, Devilman Crybaby still hasn’t been surpassed in the five years since its release. The frantic pacing and graphic content mean that it’s probably not for everyone (especially if you’re not used to over-the-top anime stories), but I’d argue that even non-anime fans should give this strange little show a chance.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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