Review: Made in Abyss season 1

 I first heard about Made in Abyss several years ago when I watched a review about it from Glass Reflection. I was intrigued, but, at the time went "Nah, horror stuff is not for me." However, as time has progressed, I've become much more intrigued by dark and questionable themes. I'm also much more aware of the various forms that horror content can take. 

While I still wouldn't touch a random slasher film--not because I'm scared, but because I find that kinda thing boring--psychological horror is something I've come to really enjoy. It's fascinating seeing what kinds of things can lurk in the human mind. And what an author can do to both their characters, and their audience, when they choose to dive in and explore that. 

The other thing in my life that really sold me on checking out Made in Abyss is that a couple years ago I got into adult coloring and one of my favorite aesthetics to color is anything I consider 'creepy cute'. So when I once again saw Made in Abyss pop up in my feed--this time because season 2 was starting--the combination of chibi styled child protagonists going on an RPG-esque adventure into a Lovecraftian inspired nightmare version of the underworld had me going "Yes, please. I'll have some of that." And here we are. 

Was Made in Abyss a worthwhile foray into the heart of darkness or a nightmare I desperately wanted to wake up from? Let’s find out.

On the surface the plot for Made in Abyss is deceptively simple. Riko, an orphan living in the town that surrounds the abyss, dreams of becoming a White Whistle. A cave raider who delves into the depths of the abyss to hunt for relics and map out the various mysteries of the perilous layers below. Riko's mother was a legendary White Whistle, and when Riko receives a letter telling her that her mother is waiting for her at the bottom of the abyss, her mind is made up. The time for her descent into the depths is now.

But Riko is just an average Red Whistle, an apprentice who is still in training at the most basic of levels. If she were to go alone it is certain the abyss and its various inhabitants would eat her alive. Fortunately for her, she is saved by a mysterious robot boy that she ends up naming Reg when she is attacked by a large creature during one of her training expeditions. 

The two become friends, and when she and Reg find the letter from Riko's mother he offers to go with her and protect her on her journey. Because he cares about her, of course. But also because Reg, Riko, and their friends, believe the abyss is the key to helping Reg fully regain his memory.

That's pretty much the gist of what you need to know to decide whether to dip your toes into Made in Abyss. But if you want to know, from a writing perspective, some of the reasons you should dive in? I've got you covered there, too.

First, I must praise Made In Abyss for essentially being a well made RPG in anime form. The world building, creature design, and overall pacing of how things happen to our characters is a straight up masterclass in RPG game design. The way that each layer of the abyss is gradually more difficult is like zones from an MMO. The way that, as you delve deeper, you gradually learn more secrets about both the characters and the world. The way that the characters discover new abilities and new problems that they must tackle.

The way that a combination of adventure, humor, and terror is quilted together is genuinely something special. Made in Abyss does a good enough job of showing, from very early on, that there are shadows lurking within this story world. But it doesn't just come right out and punch you in the face like a boxing glove attached to the spring of a jack-in-the-box from word go. It builds up pressure slowly and methodically, allowing you to snuggle up to its world like you're being enveloped by a soft, fluffy blanket. Then said blanket becomes suddenly sentient and is trying to strangle you with its fibers.

Made in Abyss is widely known for its visual and psychological horror elements. The thing that surprised and annoyed me at first, but which I came to be far more appreciative of as the season progressed, is its use of juvenile body and toilet humor. 

Yes, we just talked about an upcoming discussion on body horror. And the main cast that we are with in each episode are a pair / trio of preteen kids. What the heck would one expect? You can shout at the screen that they should grow up, but that misses the point. Children, drawn as super cute chibis, have been dropped into a Lovecraftian horror nightmare. They have some unique skills, but at their core they are children. Yes, even our little robot boy, Reg. Or perhaps especially him, given his personality. 

I kinda feel like my continued shouts of “Here there be horror!” in this review have done Made in Abyss a bit of a disservice. This is hands down one of the most beautiful anime I've ever watched. I mean it: it's visually stunning. The thing is, sometimes that's because the characters are so cute, or a scene is so majestic and enchanting in its design that I'm tempted to pause and just stare.

But it’s also because of how everything works together that the show later succeeded in nearly making me throw up during one major scene. There are many people who will tell you that Made in Abyss gets DARK, and I'm here to tell you--as someone who generally doesn't flinch at graphic violence--they're not kidding. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to agree that this is "chibi torture porn", as I've heard some detractors claim. But I wouldn't hold it against anyone if they took one look at an image of Riko, with blood pouring from her eyes and mouth, and went, "Nope! That's not for me."

Because as intensely sad and disturbing as that image is, the thousand words it might give you do not include the music, voice acting, and the rest of what actually goes down in this heart wrenching scene in episode 10. Normally, I'd say "X happens. Then it's over. You can move on." But the thing is, the abyss in Made in Abyss is kinda like that old song "You Can't Ride in my Little Red Wagon", where the line goes that the second verse is the same as the first, just a little bit louder and a little bit worse. 

The scene I talked about above comes from the episode I found it hardest to get through when I watched the season. But it's a far cry from the only dark issue. And an even farther cry from the hardest thing we're likely to face as the characters delve deeper, and this story word--and the things inhabiting it--continue to warp further in morality and mental stability. (Let's take a moment of silence for Mitty here. I'll put it this way: if you know you know.) 

But none of that laughter, wonder, or fear would really work if the show didn't have a stellar cast of characters. Luckily, it does. The vast majority of season one is spent with our plucky and adventurous heroine Riko, and her hard as a rock (physically) but soft hearted as a squishable (emotionally) robot friend, Reg. 

Our introduction to the abyss, both in our first trip there and much of our early exploration of it in general, is through Riko's eyes. Riko has grown up in the orphanage and has been training to be a cave raider pretty much from birth. This makes her both a reliable and unreliable narrator.

 She is showing us the world of Made in Abyss through her personal perception of normalacy. Part of the horror of the series is the fact that a preteen girl thinks that things like almost being eaten by giant monsters, or being strung up naked if she's caught keeping anything, is normal. 

Reg has somehow found himself at the orphanage with Riko, after she brings him back from the first layer of the abyss when he saves her from a monster during a training exercise. He is extremely durable and has some unique powers--most of which he can't seem to remember how to use from word go. He is also, of the two, the more emotional and relatable to the audience. Reg's amnesia gives him a compelling reason to journey into the abyss with Riko, while also allowing him to be a fish out of water who is learning about the world at the same pace that we, as viewers, are.

Our last major character (I almost called them a party member, because this series gives me such massive RPG vibes) is the precious fur-baby Nanachi. With my crap vision it took a while for my to realize that they were fluffy all over and I initially just assumed the character was a dude. Regardless of gender or non-gender, though, Nanachi saved Riko's butt, has been through sheer hell, and has (real or metaphorical--you decide) fluffy balls of steel for what they decide to do at the end of season one. 

In addition to our current trio, there are so many neat side characters who pop in and out of the story as we make our way down into the depths. Nat and Shiggy, Ozhen and her apprentice Marulk, and Hablog are all people who--despite their sometimes brief screen time--stood out.  

If you've read through all of this and feel comfortable taking a chance on Made in Abyss despite my warnings about the kind of storytelling journey that you will be undertaking, I can confidently tell you that the show has my highest recommendation. This is not a series for everyone. But for those willing to sit with the darkness of the abyss--and sometimes the human spirit--knowing that like all candles must eventually face the wind, that our heroes will likely never return from the journey they are on... It is indeed a journey worth taking. 

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