In 2003,Fullmetal Alchemistreceived an anime adaptation by at-the-time up-and-comer Studio Bones, hot off the heels of the likes ofRahXephon,Wolf’s Rain, and theCowboy Bebopmovie. The problem was that the manga wasn’t finished, so with the author’s blessing, they needed a writer who could complete the incomplete, and lo, Sho Aikawa entered the chat.
Although 2009’sFullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhoodis widely considered the superior series, there’s plenty to appreciate about the original, divergent take on the source material. Almost two years prior, Aikawa has writtenRahXephon, an ode toEvangelionof sorts with a similarly bold vision, and as a writer, he had a knack for large, all-encompassing, and strange ideas. The strangest things that Aikawa writes tend to be the things that are the hardest to take your eyes off of, which is certainly true of 2015’sConcrete Revolutio: Superhuman Phantasmagoria. Because no tidbit of anime trivia is funnier than “the guy who wrote the originalFMAalso wrote a series aboutsuperheroes in alternate-history 1960s Japan.”
RELATED:The Best Anime By Studio Bones
The Superhuman Phantasmagoria
Concrete Revolutiofollows Jiro Hitoyoshi, a member of the Super Population Research Laboratory (AKA Superhuman Bureau). This clandestine group serves two purposes: protecting and managing registered superhumans and eliminating those that pose too great of a risk to public safety. Jiro meets a young witch named Kikko Hoshino, and she joins the bureau to help in their mission.
Across both seasons - 24 episodes in total - the series juxtaposes two distinct timelines that themselves are jumped around quite a bit. There is a bright past where Jiro works with the bureau to manage superhumans, and then there is a dark future alluded to where he and several of his friends have become vigilantes. The manner in which the story jumps around makesthe timeline ofThe Witcherfeel like a cakewalk.
The premiere episode alone presents this juxtaposition so quickly before any investment can be formed, that it might leave new viewers confused beyond the ability to continue. To make matters more confusing, the dating system is based on the numbered year within an era of Japanese history that doesn’t exist: the Shinka Era.
Instead of “1962,” audiences are told that it’s “July, the 41st of the Shinka Era,” and even if the show used the Gregorian calendar, the pacing of this series and how it intermixes past and present would leave many confused. To its credit, standalone episodes will tie past and present together, with the unresolved questions of the past given closure years later.
It’s a fun way to utilizea story that jumps around its timeline, but it’s not always very coherent. Episode 3 ends with two main characters getting into a huge fight, but we never see the resolution and the next episode shifts gears entirely. To its credit, it is a pretty spectacular fight, however.
Tonal Disarray
In the late 90s, Aikawa wrote a series calledNeo Rangaabout a giant monster that then becomes the pet of three girls. And beyond that, it was densely laden with political themes, growing larger and more prominent in scope without much consideration for how the tone would be strained by such advantageous writing.
And that last description more or less fitsConRevo, whose title seems to reference the Roman architectural revolution known as the “concrete revolution” but with the “n” removed to make it sound cooler. It seems fitting, as the name implies something massive; a major shift in society/culture. But in this case, it mostly refers to howthis show has too much going on.
Rarely is a show with such a vintage, cartoony, and colorful depiction of a world so deeply concerned with post-war political commentary. In this alternate history, the world isn’t secretive and paranoid about the threats of nukes, but rather the powers of superhumans lurking in society, whose existence is progressively made more public through the series.
The story is a thorough examination of being superhuman, what it means to be a superhero, the importance of heroes, and how the idea of heroes can be a lie. The protagonist Jiro is obsessed with a superhero from his childhood who inspired him to fight for justice but who subsequently fell from grace.It’s a series about heroismand why people need to believe in heroes.
And this examination is contextualized through a depiction of Japan’s passionate and vocal youth during the 60s, protesting war, discrimination, and America’s presence in the country. At times, what occurs feels very serious, but it’s undercut by just how obtuse this show can get and how funny it can be. It’s just not totally clear how intentional that humor is.
Sad things will happen, but they don’t always elicit strong emotions because the tone is all over the place, and combined with a timeline that throws viewers for a loop, this isn’t an easy show to get invested in. So why talk about it at all? For the novelty of it being written by the guy who took onthe tall order of finishing Fullmetal Alchemist? That certainly helps, but no.
The Best Intentions
ConRevodistinctly feels like what a person who doesn’t watch a ton of anime thinks anime is, and then that idea is brought to life by one of the best studios in Japan. It is bonkers, but it is also kinda what anime is all about: talented artists who put great effort into making the coolest things that they can think of. For those interested in Japanese cultural history, this is like a nostalgia cocktail.
Just about every possible idea for a show about superhumans is executed on: ghosts, android cops, time travelers, immortals, demons, and celestial beings inhabiting peoples’ bodies, to name a few. That’s without even mentioning “Equus,” Jiro’s muscle car that transforms into a mecha centaur. These ideas are often silly, but they are brought to life quite adeptly.
Having released beforeMy Hero Academiapremiered, it features some of the greatest work by famed animator Yutaka Nakamura to this day. That aforementioned fight from episode 3 that ended suddenly? Nakamura animated it, made it one of the best scenes in the whole show, and then went on to animate six more episodes.
Most seasons ofMy Heroget Nakamura for maybe two episodes, and every movie is practically mandated to have him work on the final fights, but inConRevo? The man just kept going and contributed to some of the show’s most pivotal and visceral dramatic beats. The below video shows his work across the whole show but be mindful of spoilers.
This show is fairly niche even by niche anime standards, but it speaks to the kind ofrisks that Studio Bones is comfortable takinga chance on. It’s likeMy Hero Academia’s slightly older, chaotic evil cousin and perfectly illustrates what makes Sho Aikawa such a bizarre writer. His ideas are compelling, but perhaps a bit too cluttered and best reigned in by an adept director.
In the case ofConcrete Revolutio, director Seiji Mizushima didn’t reign in that insanity in the slightest. While it might have yielded an easier show to recommend if they had, this series will speak to certain viewers more loudly than others. It’s a show where the cleanliness of the story takes a backseat to how loudly and colorfully it tells it.
