Manga Review: Beastars

 (WARNING: This review contains spoilers.  You have been warned)

Copyright belongs to Akita Shoten

Beastars

Created by: Paru Itagak

Status: 2016-present, ongoing

From Reynard the Fox to Watership Down, Bre’r Rabbit to Animal Farm, the tried and true beast fable has weaved enchantment down the millennia with allegorical tales expressing truths on everything from the threat of tyranny to the absurdity of mob mentality. And of the myriad works in this categorical zoo, few in recent memory match the impact and wide appeal of Disney’s 2016 animated film Zootopia. Set in a diverse metropolis where creatures of all kinds live together in a shaky peace, Disney’s Oscar offering blended humor and buddy cop sensibilities with a mature meditation on racial bias and institutional prejudice. With rich world building and some complex characterization, Zootopia made a huge splash with critics and audiences alike. And yet in that same year, Paru Itagak, an unknown mangaka in the Land of the Rising Sun, embarked on her own journey into the question of interspecies community, one closely resembling Zootopia but with a bit of a darker twist. Her work, Beastars, tackles that same quagmire of interspecific living with a touch of charm and a pinch of brutality, and with an upcoming anime set to debut this fall on Netflix, let’s take a peak at this edgy parable full of overlapping layers of meanings.

Plot Synopsis

In a world of civilized anthropomorphic animals, there exist multiple divides extending across and within species lines, but few run deeper than the line between carnivores and herbivores, thanks to entrenched instincts on both sides of the food chain serially poisoning any attempts at achieving true unity. Although predation has been outlawed, the prey drive remains strong in most carnivores, leading them to either suppress their desires, or indulge them on the down-low by purchasing herbivore meat in illegal back-alley markets or, worse yet, cutting loose and actively hunting. These sporadic acts of murder leave herbivores in a perpetual state of high tension, uncertain if or when their carnivore friends and neighbors will snap and make a meal of them. At the heart of one city in this world marked by diversity, communion, anxiety, and mistrust lies Cherryton Academy, an integrated elite high school that stands as a microcosm for the hopes and horrors of life beyond its hallowed walls. Legosi, an oversized grey wolf and stagehand in Cherryton’s drama club, is used to slinking about the margins of social life. With the face of a vicious thug but the gentle soul of a lamb, he faces much fear and hatred, not helped by his social awkwardness, but keeps to himself and tries his damnedest to resist any predatory lurches from his dormant instincts. But his comfortable world fractures when a member of his club turns up murdered in a tragic act of predation. As suspicion falls on him and other carnivores in the school, a fateful encounter with a dwarf rabbit and fellow social outcast named Haru forces Legosi out of the shadows and into the limelight, where his courage, strength, and empathy may yet propel him further to the most coveted rank in their society: the Beastar, a mark of noble distinction conferred upon only the most worthy of animals. 

Story

It’s way too easy to pigeonhole this series as “dark Zootopia,” when in fact it’s so much more. Though classified as a shounen manga — and hence, a supposed cousin of such battle staples as Naruto and One Piece — Beastars sits far above the usual teenage smashfest, drawing power from its deep and nimble characterization and complex, layered, multifaceted world building. Our main boy Legosi (or Legoshi, depending on the translation) is a perplexing bundle of strength and awkwardness, tied up in a package that comes off as terrifying and adorable in equal parts. It seems unbelievable how a teenager can be punching mobsters in the face one minute, and yet barely stammer out a greeting to the girl he likes literally the next. Somehow, his ungainly charm keeps his foibles from grating my nerves, and watching him mature and develop is a signature draw of this manga. And “develop” really is the central clause binding this work, since if there’s one thing you can say about Itagak’s characters, it’s that she designs them to be as dynamic as possible. Legosi constantly grows with each new encounter with his expanding circle of friends and loved ones, evaluating his principles in light of fresh discoveries and revelations. And Legosi shares the spotlight with a diverse cast, each noteworthy for the depth and care with which Itagak sculpted their personalities. Haru, an earnest spitfire of a dwarf rabbit who becomes Legosi’s friend and eventual love interest, comes saddled with speciecist self-loathing she assuages through sex with multiple animals. Then there’s Louis, an arrogant, carnivore-hating red deer and the darling of the Cherryton drama club burdened by memories of a terrible past and a pervading sense of inadequacy which together drive some of his most extreme actions. These characters, though par for the course in the teen dramas Beastars so closely resembles, distinguish themselves through incisive and believable growth and development. Spurring this along is the complex world of species politics Itagak constructs with meticulous care and detail. Like the minds behind Zootopia, she eschews simple black-and-white views of “predator bad, prey good”; but she boldly goes where even the beloved film in its darkest of drafts dare not enter. The persistence of feral instincts complicates carnivore/herbivore relationships, and some of the most delightful and nerve-racking parts of the series stem from uncertainty over whether or not a quaint scene of mixed dietary creatures will end tragically. The creator twists the carnivore prey drive into an unconscious urge or even addiction, one that many characters try to come to terms with to varying degrees, while herbivores try to reconcile their desires to get closer to select carnivores with the deep-rooted instinct to flee for their lives. Although the carni/herbi divide takes center stage for most of the story, each new volume brings added depth to the world, showcasing the lines drawn within both sides of the food chain dichotomy among birds, mammals and reptiles, along with the existence of the “sea people” who are a different kettle of fish (pun intended) altogether. This expansive world allows Itagak to explore the fault lines of diversity beyond the racial bias angle of Zootopia, slapping down analogues to mixed-race children, sex discrimination, and even religious beliefs. Her concern pushes past Zootopia's tunnel vision to target the great riddle of diversity within unity itself, and through Beastars, she ponders it with much greater sensitivity and nuance than one would expect from a "mere" shounen series.

In fact, I’d say most of the series’ minor weaknesses spring from whenever Itagak indulges in the shounen side of its lineage. While the first couple of arcs give the impression of a teen coming-of-age drama, the introduction of a group of lion gangsters shifts it into a clunky shounen fight manga for a couple of chapters. This settles into a recurring pattern, where psychological introspection fades into a meritocracy of the fist and back again. The developments aren’t necessarily bad in and of themselves, but the seesawing implementation gives the series a chunky, uneven texture. In addition, Itagak occasionally stoops into shounen-esque melodrama, particularly during fight scenes; last minute power-ups, extended mid-battle dialogue, and the dreaded “power of friendship” pick-me-up all make an appearance at one time or another, and I reflexively cringe whenever they do. Still, I guess it comes down to a matter of taste, and the dynamic genre shifts and over-the-top displays of drama may add to the charm for some readers, and in either case, do little to ruin the series’ strong showing.

Rating: 9/10 

Art

Despite some early roughness, Itagak gives her art a smooth touch that fits the mood and direction of any scene almost perfectly -  a crucial talent in a story that bends genres so often. Characters can morph from adorable to horrifying on a dime, and she captures personality and states of mind almost perfectly. Legosi has the greatest range as you’d expect, introduced in the first chapter as almost disturbingly menacing before his inner goodness manifests into a cuter, less threatening countenance. However, Legosi’s ferocity resurfaces during any of the manga’s intense fight scenes, and you’re left wondering in awe how such disparate drawing styles can coexist in the same work. Itagak displays a distinguished capacity for artistic nuance, somehow making a character like Haru expressive and emotional despite her pitch-black eyes, or morphing an elderly Komodo dragon grandfather into an almost preciously adorable old man. She straddles the line between realistic and cartoonish depictions of the beasts in her play, which works out in avoiding uncanny alley while bringing the creatures close enough to human to garner sympathy.  Besides the range of expression she gifts her characters with, Itagak masters the use of shadows and darkness in setting an atmosphere, and can communicate menace and humor with skillful timed paneling. Sure, she’s still rather rough even at her best, but I have no complaints; art in a graphic novel should work in service to the story, and the engaging way Itagak sets up her scenery more than makes up for a little lag in technique.

Rating: 9/10 

Throughout its three-year run, Beastars has proven a sleeper hit in Japan, and it’s no wonder why. Itagak’s rich, engaging world and compelling characters suck you in, and even though the fights and drama prove an uneven mixture at times, they do not detract from the experience. Though an award winner in its native land and on the cusp of exposure to a wider audience, I fear that it may prove incapable of shaking the “darker Zootopia” label here in the West. If so, it would be a right shame; without taking anything away from Disney’s excellent film, Beastars has the potential to be so much more, and I’d invite anyone, whether they’re into manga or not, to feast on the offerings of this dark, mature fable of our times.

Total: 18/20 = A

'Zootopia' is a beast of a movie with a valid message

 

Product placement ahoy!

Movie: Zootopia

Director: Byron Howard, Rich Moore,Jared Bush,

Cast: Ginnifer Goodwin, Jason Bateman, Shakira

Verdict:

Part buddy-cop dramedy, part racial allegory, Walt Disney’s latest offering is a touching and timely movie, blessed with well-rounded characters, smart dialogue, and top-notch storytelling that’s sure to leave you howling with joy on your way out the theater.

In depth:

What does it mean to live in a diverse environment?  Is it possible to be prejudiced without being malevolent?  These are some pretty heavy questions - too heavy, it seems, for Hollywood to tackle in any sophisticated way.  Every now and then a feature crops up, condemning all the usual suspects, parading a cast of dubious and unsympathetic antagonists, just to drive home the point that racism is bad.  But simple, everyday prejudice?  That’s been left mostly out in the cold, untouched for reasons I'm sure any psychologist would happily examine.  So it’s amazing to find the first mature treatment of so sensitive a topic in a 3d movie supposedly aimed at children.  But the facts don’t lie: Zootopia delivers a powerful message on tolerance and racism that doesn’t sacrifice its characters, plot, or humor, making it one of the most enjoyable and well-rounded family films ever released by Disney.

It all takes place in a world where humans don’t exist, and both predator and prey have presumably moved past their primitive instincts toward something…sorta like peace and harmony.  Country bunny Judy Hopps (Goodwin) aspires to be a police officer in Zootopia, the sprawling metropolis serving as the nerve center for this interspecies cosmos. Though from the beginning we start to suspect that not all is hunky-dory - particularly as young Judy contends with both a bullying fox and her own fretful parents - she remains unperturbed, and after a grueling run in the police academy sets off to fulfill her dreams in the big city.  It’s too bad that everything in Zootopia is hell-bent on crushing her fragile, hard-won optimism.  After all the fanfare thrown at her for being the city’s first rabbit cop, Judy finds her fellow officers, including police chief Bogo (Idris Elba) less than thrilled to have her on the force.  She’s immediately bumped down to parking duty, her hope of making the world a better place frustrated at every turn, before a flash of impulsiveness and a stroke of bad luck lands her before a sticky ultimatum: solve a missing predators case in 48 hours (sound familiar?) or turn in her badge in disgrace.  Her only lead is entrepreneurial con artist Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman), a sly fox with his own complicated relationship with Zootopia to work through.  As Judy and her unwilling partner race against the clock, she finds out there's a lot more to everything and everyone around her than appearances suggest - including herself.

"Yeah, seriously - don't."

From a set up that promises nostalgic flashes of Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy in PG form, Zootopia quickly swerves into some pretty serious racial territory. The amazing thing is how it does so without losing any of its charm or comedic flare.  Like an agile predator, it nimbly straddles the line between buddy cop comedy and social commentary - often blending the two, like when Judy lays out “C-word privileges” to a fellow officer (“...a bunny can call another bunny cute, but when other animals do it…” ) or when Nick has an awkward “can I touch your hair?” moment with a sheep.  It’s a brand of hilariously uncomfortable humor aimed squarely at the parents in the theater -  reminding us, perhaps, of similar indiscretions in our own lives - and doesn't come across as preachy in the least.  But when the movie gets serious, it doesn’t pull any punches; few, if any, animated features from mainstream productions tackle the often insidious and overlooked existence of institutional racism and personal biases.  By sheer brilliance, the filmmakers avoid both moralizing and direct analogues to real life, eschewing simple fables of acceptable targets to examine the roots and wreckage of prejudice lying within everyone.

 

And this wouldn’t have worked had it not been for the strength of the characters inhabiting this world.

Pretty much exactly like the DMV in real life.

 Judy is a pure joy to watch, an energetic and enthusiastic persona obviously constructed with great care and foresight.  She’s the perfect blend of naivety and strength, believing in her ability to make her dreams come true, but not immune to doubt and insecurity, especially when her rose-tinted view of Zootopia cracks right before her eyes.  Goodwin injects our young heroine with enough sweetness to almost convince you that she’d fall for just about anything...before she slyly manipulates the tar out of many characters perceived as more cunning and ruthless.   But she isn’t just the innocent victim in all of this, fighting against an establishment with narrow expectations of her.  Judy’s flaws, like her impulsiveness and need to prove herself, are often her own worst enemies, and she comes with her own racial baggage, profiling foxes specifically and predators in general, which culminates with her delivering the film’s most troubling instance of institutional prejudice -  all without malice or any ill intent.

Nick had to grow on me for a bit, since he came off at first as just another “savvy” male foil to energetic female protagonist that’s become such a tired mainstay of anime and modern Disney features alike, with hardly an independent trait to call his own.  But once his backstory kicks in and Judy’s own shortcomings become more obvious, you appreciate his witty interjections and calm, thoughtful counterpoint to the often hot-headed bunny cop.  He reveals how much he’s personally suffered under Zootopia’s strained interspecies tolerance, and it’s obvious that however much he plays up the “scam-artist fox” stereotype, he’s too earnest and too disgusted by inequity to completely pull it off.  Bateman’s timing and humor really carry the day, and the chemistry between Nick and Judy isn’t just palatable - it’s damn-near explosive.  These characters, individually complex and fleshed-out, never overshadow one another, and while there’s enough fodder to keep the shipping segment of the fandom occupied, their layered and touching interactions - as close friends, partners, and confidants - have enough power to back a sequel or two, or even a television series.

Scenery porn?  Damn straight.

Besides the phenomenal story and characters, the 3d is gorgeous, as expected.  Judy arrives in Zootopia in a realistically rendered high-speed railway meant solely to showcase how much detail went into designing the animal metropolis - from the smokey clouds in the Rainforest District, to the frigid beauty of Tundratown.  But the scenery isn’t just there to be gawked at; it’s almost a character in itself, at times living up to the ideal of a beautiful, bustling city with unlimited opportunities, but only a trick of lighting and the right color palette away from exposing a seedier, darker underbelly, complete with mob bosses, hidden agendas, and unresolved tensions forged in millennia of predator/prey conflict.  The animators spared nothing in bringing this cityscape to life, and it should be a lesson to anyone interested in creative world-building.

With so much praise, there has to be some drastic misstep to balance it out, right?  Well, yes and no; it has its flaws, of course, but they're minimal at the very worst.  Disney’s recent obsession for the “surprise villain” shtick is getting old, and anyone tired of it will surely roll their eyes at the big "reveal."  However, the blow is softened by the weightiness of Zootopia’s plot.  The problem with these kinds of antagonists is that they’re too often given insufficient motive or development in order to keep the “shock” factor in play.  But Zootopia comes complete with its own “build your villain” package, thanks to the racial and political ramifications of only half-heartedly embracing diversity.  Was Hitler’s rise a product of 20th century Germany’s ethnic milieu?  Would the Rwandan genocide have occurred had there not been such a sharp line drawn between Hutu and Tutsi?  Who knows, but a little understanding of history puts Zootopia's bad guy in a pretty believable light.

Beyond that, and a little exaggeration when Judy finally confronts her own inner demons, I have nothing bad to say about it.  I admit I hissed through my teeth at everyone claiming this was the best thing since The Lion King, but that might not be far off the mark.  I don’t know if the crew at Disney has anything else in mind for Judy, Nick, and the rest of the cast, but this is one franchise I'd be thrilled to see take off.

Grade: A+