I have a weird pride associated with being able to guess what my favorite show in a season will be just by looking at the seasonal charts. I'd like to think that it's because I've developed a sixth sense for the objectively best show out of any lineup over the years, but it's more like knowing myself. For example the squat character designs of Made in Abyss set in front of a wide verdurous backdrop, the kind you'd find on a great Magic: the Gathering land, made me think even without the description that it would probably be my top pick, some sort of exploration into a wide natural world without the constraints of typical anime designs or pacing. And this is one of the rare instances where I get to take extra pride in having not only been right about my own tastes, but about how much of the anime community at large would respond to this journey down the dreamlike Abyss. Of course for that kind of victory I'm fated to fail some prediction, and for Made in Abyss it was the thought that it would be a starry-eyed journey into nature. It didn't take long to realize that mistake.
How long did that prediction hold up? The start is a basic setup of the world, with lots of work put into showing the landscape of the Abyss, the creatures who call it home, and the town where the Divers who explore this strange land live, explored by following one young but knowledgeable Diver named Riko. An unconscious robotic boy and a giant beam of cleansing fire are the only things that seem to interrupt this symbiosis. Riko takes the boy, Reg, back to her town, inspects him to the best of her abilities, and when he wakes up shows him their town at the edge of the Abyss with a beautiful vocal track in the background. It all feels like just a blip in their daily lives, and as the second episode gives us her muddled history in the town it seems that Reg may be the catalyst Riko needs to go into the Abyss by herself, to look for her mother the legendary Diver Lyza and to test herself against the chasm at the center of their world. Soon Riko and Reg say a midnight goodbye to their closest friends, saying “even if we never see each other again, we'll be connected by the Abyss.” It's a powerful scene to send us out on this journey, and so the show leads into its main act.
So far so good. The first two levels go quickly, still in the mode of having us soak in the lands right outside humanity's border. The two bond instantly, clearly fit to travel together with Riko's intimate knowledge of survival skills and the ecosystem and Reg's utilities, especially his nigh-infinitely extendable arm, that let them descend quickly. The first level feels like the world of The Lost World or Cameron's Avatar, while the second gets into a more surreal realm with an inverted forest. They take this all in and learn what weapons they have at their disposal, as well as seeing the ways the animals have learned to trick Divers like themselves into becoming easy food. Here still there's a contrast between these squat character designs, with their rounded faces and skinny bodies, that makes them feel tiny in a vast world, accentuated by plenty of lush background design.
As they reach the end of this second level, the story enters an intermission at the enclave of a Diver named Ozen, an imposing and unreadable figure. I say intermission because the pair stay and train with Ozen for a number of episodes, but here we also learn about Riko's past and her mother's whereabouts. Ozen is a Diver, but she almost seems to have a cruelty about her, a loss of appreciation for life over the years. Riko and Reg come close to death in learning survival skills from her, and the truths they learn are shocking, the stuff of nightmares that questions the source of Riko's fundamental impulse of adventure. We learn Reg's limits, or about that fiery beam we saw so long ago that is both the ultimate defense for them both and yet undoubtedly their last resort. With that said the intermission lasts long, and I left feeling like it could be shorter, and worried that we wouldn't reach the end of the journey in time, with five episodes left and many levels to go. And despite the body horror and clear trauma that was born from this time, I was still convinced of my hypothesis about the journey.
And then, in the third act, we are finally forced to internalize the Abyss as a place that humanity is not welcome in, and was never meant to survive in. A single tiny slipup in a single encounter with a single monster leads to Reg and Riko being forced to toss aside every human instinct for the sake of Riko's life, a painful and physically revolting surgery in an unnoteworthy corner of the Abyss. They are saved by the human-creature Nanachi we've seen for weeks in the show's ending, one who I didn't imagine being able to make enough of an impact in those last few episodes to warrant their prominence. I still hold that it may have been on account of not having enough time to fully utilize her, seeing as the show's ending leaves us clearly ready for the next chapter, but Nanachi's story is also the most impactful human tragedy in the show to date, even beyond Riko's origins and her mother's possible fate. This last arc is the most peaceful and tranquil in the show, and yet it's undercut by Riko's fight for survival and the bitter origins of Nanachi's small world in the depths. Worst of all it brings forth the message that a story of the untamed wilds eventually must bring: humanity's cunning plans and lust for power can always usurp any terror the natural world can bring.
At this point I could still be technically be considered correct. To the very end the backgrounds are stunning, and meant to be looked at as a portrait of a world of our imaginations. Even in the small human story in the small hut in that small level, the wonder of finding these corners is palpable through lighting and the constant emphasis of these human Divers as tiny and of no consequence. A reminiscence in the double-length final episode shows off an array of new sights at the very end, some magnificent and some inhuman. The tools that Riko and Reg hone make them ideal guides for us at the start, and their utter inability to fully take on the world is ideal for us understanding what it really means to descend. It was still, all things considered, a tale of a journey that was crafted for us to escape the world where we sit in front of the screen. But if you're expecting that journey to be painless, or that we're free to experience it as outsiders looking in without having to take in excruciating physical and mental pain through our actors and guides, then Made in Abyss will be a descent for you too.