2016-07-02, 14:41
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Link #1601 |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Oct 2004
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I like how the protagonists were forced/tricked into helping Biba's faction destroy two cities, with thousands killed, and show no remorse whatsoever afterwards. The shogun just lets Biba in stupidly, even though he knew something was up. Once Biba got his revenge, he had no further plan and turned out be nihilistic. Zombies still infest country, the strongest fortress and political leader have fallen, the cast still has nowhere new to settle, and Mumei still seems to be reliant on other people (Biba's dead, so now it's Ikoma) to tell her what to do, so nothing has been resolved.
6/10. Stylish still art, but the animation devolved into "shaking camera to still images of people charging," characters were all stereotypes, and the story just ran itself off the cliff.
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2016-07-02, 19:48
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jun 2006
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What will grate the passengers is allowing Biba's group with them on the train. |
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2016-07-03, 03:56
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Link #1605 | ||||||||
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Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2012
Age: 31
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Decent stories tend to make humans the villains once they've depleted zombies for drama and they want a bit of variety (which is really moot for Kabaneri), the existence of a human villain is different from the "humanity is the real monster" approach bad stories like Kabaneri take and third, Kabaneri is simply a horrible story which used every cliche in the worst way. Arguing in favor of cliches in a story that was ruined by them isn't very sensible. And really? You're using video game stories for comparison? You can easily have a game without a story, even with a story almost all your time will be spent on gameplay (which is why most game stories suck). On the other hand you can't have a show without a story. Quote:
I really don't see how your usual argument that a crappy decision exists somehow justifies it. They also established that Biba will appear in the OP and early on, by your logic that means he was a great addition to the show. Is establishing something that ruined your story supposed to be a good thing? Quote:
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Every time you avoid addressing the actual issue by using non-arguments like "not every single person disliked something" (yes and there are fans of Biba and Guilty Crown, is that supposed to mean something?) or "well the writers did that thing" (yes and the show sucks because of it. How in the world is this a justification?) or "it's not as bad as..." (that doesn't make it not bad). If you are going to tell me people loved this series because of Ikoma, you can't use arguments like "well he's not as hated as Biba" because you're not proving anything with this. Tell me what all these supposed Ikoma fans loved about Ikoma so much. I already told you what people loved about what he could have been and what they hated about what he ended up being. Quote:
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2016-07-03, 14:51
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Link #1606 | ||||
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jan 2007
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Regardless, you've placed a lot less emphasis on the execution of said elements rather than on your judging them as automatically and inherently bad. That attitude has been the predominant one throughout your posts, not the other way around. I've already alluded to how, past the first couple of episodes, Kabaneri readily established that Mumei and Ikoma or even the rest of the gang had no real problem getting rid of the regular zombies when they weren't dealing with their own internal issues. That wasn't a sudden change in the show. if anything, it was gradually built up. Was any individual zombie representing a real danger by the time the "black smoke" came along? No, even the zombies who copied fighting techniques were only a problem when Mumei was feeling weak or when Kurusu's initial sword broke. Once those two situations were no longer a concern, they effectively stopped presenting a challenge in combat. Which brings me to another point. The escalation of threats might seem surprising at a glance yet wasn't all that illogical in retrospect. After all, the show began by presenting Mumei and Ikoma as Kabaneri, who are literally portrayed as special half-zombies in their own right. Zombie bites have absolutely no effect on either of them, thus basically nullifying most of the risk of fighting only regular Kabane. Then we get to see the "black smoke" variation which has one of such Kabaneri as its core, who has been injected with a blue substance in order to power up. What came later was an extrapolation of that. Horobi, Mumei and even Ikoma all underwent the same injection of blue plasma in order to get stronger, with the only real difference being that males don't become "black smoke" but are still able to harness that power. We don't know the "scientific" reason, which is an area the show never explored, but we were at least told that male Kabaneri are seen as rare by default. At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that even Kabane aren't strictly identical to standard zombies either. They have a very noticeable yellow core in their hearts, which looks very much like a power source and is also their weak point. When the blue liquid that enables the subsequent power-ups is injected, all the yellow stuff turns blue before they go into overdrive. We saw that strange glow inside the first "black smoke" which had a human inside who looked vaguely like another of Mumei's acquaintances at the time. That already hinted there might be a human hand involved in this situation, rather than a virus which only "naturally" extends the infection. Taking this into consideration, the fact the series did not limit its version of zombies to simply lumbering around at a very low threat level isn't all that out of place. In fact, it starts to make sense that you'd need the show to switch the focus to human intervention, sooner or later, given how from the very start it was indicated that Mumei knew far too much about the Kabane and already had access to unusual equipment for fighting them. Her faction was there as an unknown factor that would inevitably be linked to extra revelations. Yes, I was using video game stories as a point of comparison. Not in order to praise Kabaneri as a wonderful story, which would be silly, but simply to reiterate how I never expected anything above that level right out of the gate. If you want to say that you can deal with such things in a game but not in another medium, then that's your prerogative. Mine was, and remains, the opposite. Once again, I am not even debating Biba's value as a character, excusing his actions or talking about his motivations. You want to complain about him? Be my guest. But, based on everything I've just highlighted about the treatment of Kabane and Kabaneri from the beginning of the show up to and including his introduction, I don't think its remotely nonsensical for a human character to play an antagonist role within the structure of the narrative. Simply put, your claims are implying that all this stuff shouldn't be used in this type of narrative, period. Alright, feel free to think such a thing. I don't, because I can see there is an internal sense to it. A way to connect the dots and notice how the whole show was built around it and foreshadowed certain parts, long before the focus shifted to Biba and friends, rather than suddenly throwing it out of nowhere or breaking any established rule. It did break some expectations to the contrary, but my own were and remain very different. Quote:
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I have never used the word "loved" in relation to Ikoma during this conversation. Nor have I denied there are those who didn't like him or who were just disappointed (both of which are different reactions and not identical to hatred or annoyance). But yes, there were people who still liked him. There's been positive comments sprinkled in episode discussion threads here and there. Even after he got captured by Biba and crew, for example, various folks liked his final conversation with Takumi or felt sorry for how that turned out for him. That's not exactly a declaration of hatred for the character or bottomless disappointment. Then there are those who enjoyed Ikoma's attitude during the final episode, even as they also talked shit about Biba or whatever else they didn't like. That contradicts your repeated statement that somehow everyone reached the conclusion of forever hating him at the end of the story. Quote:
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2016-07-04, 07:54
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Link #1608 |
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Member
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Land of soccer - Brazil
Age: 33
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This series started on such a high note, with Ikoma's feelings about fighting and not just giving in to fear, but it ended so... normal. I still liked the series and the animation, but i kinda expected more after that great beginning.
Ps: Munmei ended switching her dependency from Biba to Ikoma, instead of becoming her own person, That was frustrating.
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2016-07-04, 13:14
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Link #1609 | |
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Waiting for more taiyuki!
Join Date: Jan 2004
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2016-07-04, 14:46
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Link #1610 | |
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Member
Join Date: Feb 2010
Location: Land of soccer - Brazil
Age: 33
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2016-07-04, 17:10
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Link #1611 | |
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Senior Member
Join Date: May 2014
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Both Ikoma and Biba get stabbed by Mumei. Being her big brother is a difficult job. 
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2016-07-05, 02:20
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Link #1612 |
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So Where Were We?
Join Date: May 2014
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Joining High School of the Dead, Guilty Crown and Shingeki No Kyojin as Tetsuro Araki's apocalyptic musings on Japanese isolationism, Koutesujou No Kabaneri calls upon Araki to tear his restraints and unleash his inner Ikoma, cloaked in scarlet red passion and armed with the tools of his trade to combat evil. Suffice to say that Kabaneri, like its hero, kicks a lot of ass. A metamorphic monster of spills and thrills, Kabaneri starts off as a rollicking escapist ride from one zombie lair to another, before it narrows its trajectory to deliver a bloody gut shot aimed at Japan's slavishness to samurai iconography. Look carefully along the way, however, and discover how much Kabaneri functions as Araki's belated apologia/corollary to Guilty Crown. Find in Kabaneri certain scenes from Guilty Crown reduced, re-scored, and, most importantly, reconsidered. Recall how that 2011 travesty waved a foolish flag of nationalist propaganda with its premise of a Japan being torn asunder by its loss of sovereignty to unspecified foreign nations, then wastes one episode after another delegating the protagonist to drop the balls between his legs; by the time Shu finally mans up to the challenge, good characters suffer, the best of them dies and the worst of them winds up in his Itunes. Nonetheless, I will forever thank Araki's garbage for giving us the all-time sexiest jettison of a jacket in anime history.
If Araki's pretensions and excesses pollute Crown to the point of rendering that show a creative wasteland, they achieve compatibility and refuge on the sublime railroad of Kabaneri, a steampunk zombie adventure whose surface candy supplements a soul more apt for forgiveness and perspective. What Araki apologizes for his work 4-5 years ago happens to be his hatred of global influences outside Japan, embodied in a villainous quarantine agency, a Joker ripoff, cryptic alien diseases and flimsy references to the Bible. Here, Araki and his team from Wit Studios vent his frustrations at the ironclad heart of Japan itself; the ultimate revelation of his bloody, thunderously scored journey is that the Rising Sun, or for that matter any nation that dares choose regression out of fear, must keep chugging along on the compassion of its populace or else crumble to the loops of a romanticized past maintained by cruelty, hatred and tyranny. The good guys on board the Kotetsujou are at the mercy of a paradox; always escaping from the zombie hordes, but forever trapped in the country that generates them; fight on, however, they will. Araki's first wise choice as director is to never even suggest the origins of the Kabane zombies, thus he never avails himself a convenient cure-all by tale's end. His series pays focus to characters whose reactions against the Kabane threat determine not so much who lives or dies, but why they live and why they don't. Which brings us to Araki's second wise choice, Ikoma, the protagonist whose plot arc from bullied tech geek to mutant man of action paves the way for the show's most genuine crowd-pleasers. A dweebish, bespectacled teenager, whose hairstyle suspiciously disguises his pair of lenses into the form of a westernized monocle, Ikoma seeks to save lives with his tricked out power tool, spurred by a decision he made at too young an age. When a new zombie infestation strikes his village, Ikoma chooses to put his DIY weapon to the test, luring one neck-chomping subject into his hut like a true scientist would. What Ikoma jump-starts becomes the first of many great action sequences throughout; the impact of Kabaneri's best set pieces isn't predicated on the outrageously flexible physics so much as the degree of integrity possessed by the characters. Scientific findings may not suggest near-suicide as a viable solution after your arm catches a jawful of rabid virus, but then watch as how events enervate Ikoma, this maintenance worker more pitied than respected, to will himself against death and bond himself to nails, clockwork and steam, because Dammit he can't go without making a difference, and look how all of this parallels with a little girl who sheds her cute ribbon in the face of a monstrosity, only to reveal unspeakable power, and what you get in return is a badass coming of age. Ikoma's transformation into a Kabaneri, part human and part zombie, pulls him into a friendship with Mumei, the Hit-Girl to Ikoma's Kick-Ass. Mumei (Sayaka Senbongi, easily a breakout) shares Ikoma's semi-zombie condition but surpasses him in killing Kabane droves with unflinching trigger fingers and somersaulting away from the weight of grief. Meanwhile, Ikoma (Tasaku Hatanaka, excellent) picks his targets carefully, applying his cannon and then pulling the straight shot. Ikoma's slow and steady precision against the Kabanes affords the audience a clearer look at how innately good he is; he's no senseless killing machine, but neither is he frozen by fear or inaction as the remaining folks aboard the Kotetsujou. Aware of his limitations, or perhaps inspired by them, he prioritizes rescue over elimination. Ikoma is resolute enough to pull the levers to align a track at the risk of abandonment, patient enough to set a makeshift explosive to trap an incoming horde, and calm enough to try a cable to pull a weight off a fallen friend, never mind that the failure of the enterprise nearly cuts his own head off. And where Ikoma goes, he carries an unlikely yet tragic complement to his piercing gun, a pebble that carries sentimental importance but also signifies his emotional baseline, a feeling he must never betray or surrender, lest he be blinded by rage. Environmental and resourceful with his surroundings, Ikoma becomes the hero Kabaneri deserves. Meanwhile, Mumei's cuteness qualifies her as the mascot the show demands, but her extremes in destroying zombie threats betray grave weaknesses, often deftly handled here. Like Guilty Crown's Inori, Mumei functions on paper as a surrogate sister, albeit without the incestuous connotations hampering the former. On execution, she is a one-girl volley of mass destruction, her kicks ideal for beheading Kabanes or reminding Ikoma where his pair is just in case he needs to grow them. Her cheerful demeanor however poorly belies a social awkwardness, unkempt by years of combat training, that reminds Ikoma and his village how Mumei is too much a child inside, portending the event her repressed sadness achieves rebirth in the sinister. A good scene reveals Mumei's abandoned name and the promise Ikoma makes because of it*. A better scene finds a shaken Mumei threatening Ayame (Maaya Uchida, effective), more befuddled than frightened, to hand over a master key, the former armed with a knife yet scared out of her wits, until Yukina (Mariya Ise, unsung) intervenes and provides a deception, which Mumei all too swiftly accepts with a word of gratitude. Mumei has the fortune of meeting a great family on board the Kotetsujou, she just needs to know it. And that filial tension brings us to the villain, an inevitable foil to Ikoma. The brisk pacing of the first half's zombie killing spree is so breathless and effortless (right down to cars teetering on one side of the rail a la Temple of Doom) that the second half's employment of key human antagonists feels like culture shock, of the screenwriter clicking on autopilot. Indeed, Biba, the anti-Kabane liberator whom Mumei naively looks up to as her big brother, is on paper the bastard child of endless anime tropes, an effeminate, handsome warrior whose agenda is hush, gasp! total destruction. And yes he uses zombies. But Araki is more clever with Biba (Mamoru Miyano, yay) and his faction of Hunters than one immediately thinks. For instance, Biba reveals to Ayame one motivating factor, some hoopla about running out of supplies during a Kabane conflict, that the shogunate's crones suspect is behind his anger. But far later, another, decidedly superior factor emerges for only the audience to know, about a trust accidentally shattered by a father who makes the crucial mistake of assigning blame on the times instead of opting for penitence. You sense writer Ichirou Okouchi pulling a double dip on what makes Biba tick, but in truth Araki must have lobbied for the decision, because the first employs dull, shaky stills while the second requires shadows and haunted expressions. The double dip nonetheless illustrates who Biba is, a conniving man out to decimate the shogunate age for cowering from the Kabane threat, but insecure enough to sustain the age of fear which the shogunate justifies for its predominance. His henchmen, never granted the time for a specific backstory, distinguish themselves by how they exact their brutality; the boy of the bunch would rather apply words of reason than daggers to the gut, and becomes empathetic to a point; the eldest and most weary, who could knock Kabaneri down like nothing, seems like a mistake of plot convenience, until you realize this show is too badass to induct him as a Kabaneri, and thinks simply of him as a human warrior trained to peak performance; what a waste, then, that he plays right hand man for the wrong guy. Biba's rogue Bushi and the ruling shogunate match each other in malice and pretense, concerned more for fluttering banners and propagandist rhetoric than the price paid by the common folk. Biba's men cry out for liberation following the execution of an infected boy, while the shogun lord openly vows that his people will not be broken, then stabs an agent concerned with warning the public. Kabaneri decries the conceit that the samurai world was an idyllic Japanese period, that it was a better time then than now. The clans' innumerable weapons, ranging from antiquated daggers and horses to missile cannons and motorcycles, speak to the pointlessness of regression when the progress of the citizenry's mindset is shuttered in the name of security but the methods to delivering death are allowed to expand. Take, for example, how this series features samurai swords but no seppuku or hara-kiri in the face of despair; the act of taking one's life is performed instead via a device particularly horrifying even in its steampunk context, a pocket-sized explosive cupped over the heart and activated by a mere tug of a string. It's an ingenious suicide bomb metaphor that asks us how much horror we should quantify each time a different person pulls the string, such as a henchman for Biba's cause, or a mother about to die simultaneously with her child. In fact, it dawns on you that a lot of mothers and children die throughout Kabaneri, rarely in fact by the zombies themselves, and notice how the ruling clans have cleansed themselves of any maternal representation (the only women invited to a shogunate temple by the hosts serve as escorts to a visiting warrior, presumably as hostages for either side). Later, we learn, the pain from even female survivors, bereft of hope for a family of their own, can manifest in disturbing fashion, the scores of dead, slain Kabane or worse, unified at the behest of terraformed women, their lifespans now immediate, savage vengeance; in other words, it's Araki audacity at its finest hour. The message becomes clear; a Japan that reverts to the samurai as its chief masculine image disparately and dangerously advances the sphere of men, validating suicide as honor and murder as conquest, while the women and children caught in the crossfire pay the ultimate price, either as corpses or the begetters to them. As the carnage decimates samurai both rogue and loyal beyond repair, the only nobles worth our sympathies concern themselves with guarding the Kotetsujou than grasping for power, the steely-eyed swordsman Kurusu and his charge/intended, the stout-hearted princess Ayame. The gender stereotypes for Ayame and Kurusu's color schemes are no accident; she, dressed in nadeshiko pink, uncannily resembles Sakura Shinguji from Sakura Wars; he, clad in sleek blue, shares the same tailor as Date Masamune from Sengoku Basara. Araki by design presents us with these hyper-idealized dinosaurs, this feudal rendition of Ken and Barbie, further reinforcing the sentiment that we are more in love with the myth of the samurai than the desecration and bodies forgotten in the actual practice. Ikoma and Mumei, then, win us over because they not only kill Kabanes, but fight any retreat to this crumbling, archaic feudal age. Ayame and Kurusu both defer their heroics to our leads, yet they too employ advancements for the survival of those they care for. Ayame carries a steam-powered bow, sadly reduced to cameos; her true power lies in her respect and levelheadedness, to ensure her Kotetsujou's denizens won't die as hostages, nor become targets of blame. Of greater frequency is Kurusu's upgrade for a katana, its glowing veins a testament to Ikoma's ingenuity and selflessness; Kurusu can hone the power of Kabaneri without turning into one, and end Ikoma just in that hopefully unrealized case he loses control. The other friends that Ikoma and Mumei gather along the way are amiable, if not underwritten, proponents to their cause; granted, many of these characters function more freely during the first half than the second, but focus, right? There's Takumi, a boisterous best bud whose knowledge of power tools is as valuable as his effortless levity with Ikoma; one of his crucial scenes mimics one of the most famous in Guilty Crown**, but his is trickier, the key contribution not the preservation of a life, but of a bond, handed from one to another. There's also Kajika, another engineer whose true calling comes in caring after the orphans and revealing, in more times than one, that her maternal spirit is her only weapon, but necessary given the surplus of fear on board. Meanwhile, Yukina's muscles commiserate with Ayame's bow over lack of screentime, but their owner still earns mileage given the quieter moments. As a bonus, Araki also tosses in Suzuki, a double-chinned man who spouts English phrases to jog the audience every now and then from the Japanese dialogue, meaning even Araki understands the reason why the non sequitur T.K. rocks you like a hurricane in Angel Beats! And Kabaneri doesn't seem complete without its intent for global appeal. Suzuki's presence aside, Ikoma himself is the aesthetic odd man out, this hero, rendered albino by his design, decked in machinations across his body, and always wearing his blood metaphorically and literally. He intentionally resembles no particular nationality among his circle of friends. Listen, too, at how Hiroyuki Sawano's EPIC, tailored-for-trailer music score features lyrics spoken in English and German, and how its multilingual soundtrack fits so fluidly with the show's vision against regression, a topic Kabaneri no doubt hopes to discuss to the world. By this point, these rousing compositions so often determine Kabaneri's brisk staging, or for that matter all of Testuro Araki's works since 2012, that I think Sawano deserves co-director credit. By series's close, the people aboard the Kotetsujou do hoist a banner, but not the one they started off with. Look at that patchwork canvas of rectangular whites, greens, yellows and browns. The banner functions in the same manner as a jumping sheet, to catch a friend from afar. But think back to when these engineers, nobles and villagers alike dream of returning, not back to an earlier time, but back home, ready to grow the fields anew, and notice how the patches resemble topographical plots of land, a hope first realized through creativity. To which I can only make out two words for that: Hell Yes. Overall Rating: 8.5/10 *The Tanabata episode that reveals Hozumi as Mumei's abandoned name is even more clever if one recalls the bookends of Akira Kurosawa's Yojimbo, about a lone wolf who accelerates the decline of the samurai by tricking two warring clans into his services. First, note how Mumei is referred to by Ikoma's village folk as Yojimbo. Later, Ikoma remarks that Hozumi pertains to the eating of rice, a simple yet rare leisure he hopes could recover in zombie-ridden Japan. Early in Yojimbo, the protagonist Sanjuro observes a young man defying his elders with his choice to join one of the clans, declaring he'd prefer a short, exciting existence over a boring life of eating “mush”. By film's end, when the young man finds himself cornered and screaming for mommy, Sanjuro grants him mercy after admonishing, “A long life eating mush is best!” **Takumi's most jarring bit of dialogue happens in the Tanabata episode, when he exclaims a dream of having three wives. Surely Tetsuro Araki recognizes that his staple collaborator and Takumi's actor, Yuki Kaji, first became a lead as the Kind King of Guilty Crown, but truly broke out as the Harem King of High School DxD. Araki, you sly dog, you. Last edited by I Was Just Drifting; 2016-07-07 at 01:39. |
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2016-07-06, 23:18
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Link #1613 | |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jul 2015
Location: Portugal
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I will just add that Biba is probably the worst villain i ever saw with pointless actions/goals and no real meaning to the plot. The Kabanes should have been the only "villains" at first place. I'm also extremelly disappointed at Mumei. I tend to dislike kids/lolis as protagonists in stories that want to be taken seriously. They should had Yukina as the main heroine or at least keeping Mumei as the charming badass she was in the first episode instead of the annoying cocky brat she ended up to become. A lot of bullshit happened like seeing Ikoma being overpowered by a normal soldier..lol, and a lot of questions were not answered about that world with the characters themselves failing to ask the real questions when they had the chance. I mean they had two Kabaneris in the train for so much time and no one was curious enough to know how they became like that? Biba's army had super weapons way ahead of it's time and no one cared about it, which is weird given the importance Ikoma's gun prototype had in the beggining. Those are just a few examples because the list is long. This had so much potential but ended up being so... average. After that fantastic first episode i am really disappointed with the outcome of it. |
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2016-07-07, 05:58
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Link #1614 |
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Senior Member
Join Date: Jun 2013
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Well that was a nice ride.
Knocking on the Walls of the Armored Fortress music was pretty dam good, with the opening and the insert 'Through my blood' both being on my youtube favorites list. Similarly I rather enjoyed the animation style, with the use of oranges and reds contrasting with the drabber greys and browns. The setting was also a nice touch. Steampunk and zombies in a alternative history Japan was a creative spin on the typical zombie apocalypse setting, a good way to stand out from the crowd. Now onto the less flattering elements. In one word I say the weakness of this show can be described in one word, Biba. He just didn't have very good or well thought out motives. When he was first introduced, I thought he was going to turn out to be some justified extremest with 'the ends satisfieds the means' mindset. But when his motives were to be reveled to be nothing more than "I hate people who hide behind walls and need to wreck all the cities, which by the way are the last bastions of humanity, because my dad left me to die', I was disappointed. His father was even worse, suffering from chronic 'I must slash on my son if the lights go funny' syndrome. I mean if your going to use fear, hysteria and paranoia as show themes, do them properly! Yuno of the Future Diaries worked so well because she was a proper psychopath, with characterization and motives in line with that. Biba did give Mumei some character development, showing the 12 year old badarse was intact very 12 in her naivety. So he wasn't a complete waste, but I feel he could have been handled a lot better as a villain. Overall I'm giving the show a B. It was a good fun show and setting, but Biba's arcs writing was not to par, meaning Armored Fortress not in the A grade as a result. |
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2016-07-29, 13:36
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Link #1615 |
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Member
Join Date: Apr 2016
Location: Pennsylvania, USA
Age: 38
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And another thread necro from me where I find some of the things people dislike odd or baffling. I will say the show's strength and weakness lies in its 12-episode length. All potential fat from the story is trimmed, but at the same time it moves at a quick pace where development is limited to select characters in select situations. A lot happens here in a short span of time, and while a full 24 episode season would have allowed it more time to develop and breath, it also could have been filled with blatant filler material or moved too slowly.
Ultimately, however, what drew me to the show was its overall premise of Fear and how it makes us turn on one another. Think of John Carpenter's The Thing, to an extent. That's what is at play in Kabaneri, and Ikoma's protagonist is driven to avoid killing other humans altogether. Rather than be overcome by fear, he yearns to conquer it and stand united. Biba, on the other hand, is not only an antagonist to the goal of our heroes, but an antagonist to Ikoma's ideals. A proper foil that would manipulate fear for his own violent ends. True, his motivations are about as comic-book as you can get, but it's all about fear. Biba doesn't wish to stand united. Biba himself is afraid. But rather than responding in a panic, Biba controls and redirects his own fears, even his own fear of his father, in grandiose and devastating ways. It was a greatly satisfying show to watch, and I plan on watching it again. I feel like there were a lot of smaller details I barely caught and would likely act as foreshadowing or reward a repeat viewing. It's not going to measure up to some of my all-time favorite shows, but it's definitely in my top will rewatch regularly shows list.
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