What is it?
The Abyss is a society of people who live circled around a giant hole in the earth to seek riches or to explore its depths. The main character, Riko, is one of many orphans whose parents have died during their expeditions, and her life purpose is to become as great as her mother, who was the highest rank of explorer possible, a white whistle.
Made in Abyss gives so much, despite not asking much from its viewers. Compared to something like Neon Genesis Evangelion, a metaphor laden study of interpersonal connections and the psychology of its damaged characters wearing the thin mask of a Mecha anime, Made in Abyss lies everything on the table, and what it lies on the table is fucking awesome.
Gorgeous landscapes, Lovecraftian monsters and cute kids are supported by stunning, yet simple visuals. It was no surprise to learn that some of the art for this show was made by the same artists who worked on Spirited Away and Ponyo. If it were not for the visuals, the simplicity and occasional slow-pacing may be a bit boring, but, as is, the show works masterfully.
In the beginning, there was a giant, flying snake monster…
The very first conflict is with a flying monster known as a Scarlet Maw from deep in the abyss, holy shit! The main character’s friend is knocked out bleeding and narrowly escapes being eaten. As Riko runs from the beast and is knocked to the ground we see her fall and tumble over herself in a beautiful display of animation. She nearly breaks her arm in her escape, and just before she is forced to either jump off a cliff, or into the creature’s mouth, a goddamn cylinder of light energy bursts into the shot, damaging the creature and scaring it off, leaving a smoldering semi-circle in petrified trees it penetrated.
This opening scene really encapsulates the appeal of the show. It’s got visuals! It’s got action! Of course, some of what makes Made in Abyss so good is not as obvious as the amazing visuals and action scenes.
Dark Undertones, Mystery, and Directness
The moment that Riko sees the Scarlet Maw we wonder “Why the hell is this scary-looking monster on the first layer?”, and then she remarks to herself that they sometimes come up to look for food.
The implications of this are many. First, this is a world of chaotic adventure that is not entirely understood. Perhaps, in a more refined society, the Scarlet Maws’ feasting patterns would be purposely staggered with the exploring schedule, but this is not the world Riko lives in. Even the first layer of the abyss is an incredibly dangerous place. Meaning, that sometimes, explorers might just die to choosing a bad day to go relic hunting! This of course means that the children are sent on frequent journeys that may get them killed; a dark truth. It is also true that the main character and all of her friends are orphans, and work in dangerous child labor simply to profit the orphanage. Although this is a bleak look at their life, this is never dwelt on, and is simply the backdrop for the adventure. Even Riko is not concerned with escaping her horrible existence, and simply wants to become as good an explorer as her mother was.
That Riko immediately answers the unspoken question about the Scarlet Maw’s presence is indicative of how the show uses mystery to drive the plot on both a small and large scale. Although mysteries such as “What lies at the bottom of the abyss?” persistently create interest in the future of the plot, smaller mysteries are constantly brought up and dealt with efficiently as episode-to-episode conflicts. More satisfying is that these persistent mysteries are paid off in small, but wonderful ways, such as when we are ingeniously teased with the latest version of the map of the abyss, when one of Riko’s friends steals it from the headmaster’s office in episode 2.
Made in Abyss doesn’t dawdle. The directness and efficiency of the show is carried mainly by Reg and Riko, who seem extremely good at problem-solving for a couple of tweenage kids (or rather, a teenage kid and her relic/robot companion). Their fastidiousness and thoughtful mindsets are used not only to solve plot-conflicts, such as how to deal with Corpse Weepers (a creature that mimics the cries of its already dead prey to lure its next meals), but also as a world-building device. For example, Riko has the idea that a letter she received from the bottom of the Abyss was hastily scrawled out, and was thus probably sent multiple times in order to increase the likelihood that one of them would reach the top. This small detail enriches our emotional connection to the explorers below.
Furthermore, the characters are direct with their emotions and rarely hold anything in. When there is a problem between characters, it is not bottled up in shots of the characters grimacing silently, but quickly resolves in emotional scenes where everyone, including the viewer, is crying.
A Secondary Appeal
I’m someone who has played a lot of games, played a bit of D&D and read some H.P Lovecraft. The show seems so influenced by games in the way its world is designed, such as how the Abyss is setup in layers and that there is a penalty for returning to a previous layer and many of its creatures seem straight out of a Lovecraft novel. For me personally, fantasizing about a Made in Abyss game, or designing a D&D adventure in this setting has vastly increased the enjoyment of the show for me, and will keep it in mind for months and years to come.
And I’m sure nobody can wait to see the kinds of monsters that lie waiting in the lower layers of the abyss.
Verdict
Made in Abyss is so good that it pulled me from my post-Evangelion depression long enough for me to write my first ever blog post. It gets a 9/10 from me only because it slows down toward the middle and I think it can do even more with its premise. I have high expectations for season 2.
