The general Gundam setup may or may not be familiar to you. In an age with people living in space as well as on Earth, the prime minister of the Earth Federation holds a celebration in the orbital ring Laplace declaring the beginning of the new era, the Universal Century, along with the formation of a pact between the representatives of Earth and the Spacenoids (the people living in space). The ceremony is interrupted by terrorists, who destroy Laplace along with the pact. Fast forward 96 years, where the residents of the space colonies are living their lives as normal. An average student named Banagher Links meets a mysterious girl named Audrey Burne, a name that should ring a few bells although they never address the namesake in the show. She is running away from mysterious enemies, so Banagher takes her to her destination, a manor on the colony, but suddenly the colony is attacked and split apart. He is then given the key to a mobile suit, one with a single horn: the Gundam Unicorn. He sets out to help Audrey and discover his purpose in piloting the Unicorn, also called the key to Laplace’s Box, a cryptic unknown force stowed somewhere in the universe that has kept the Federation in check for a century.
I do not want to get too in detail about the technical details of the sides, the machines, or the other pieces of the show. They are better understood by watching the other Gundam shows of the Universal Century universe, the head canon for the entire Gundam franchise, but the show is easily watchable without it. There is some context lost, and while all the backstory is duly explained, pieces like the One Year War, Char Aznable, and Zeon would be more relatable with some additional watching. However, the primary reason I will not go into these details is that they seem to matter very little for the trajectory of the show. The various factions do not act differently as human beings, other than their ideological differences, which only come up in the monotonous philosophical discussions that pop up fairly often. This is presumably intentional, to make us feel the uselessness of the conflict at hand. But futility and uselessness are emotions in their own right, and many times the show gives us a lack of empathy for the characters instead.
The sole arbiter in the middle is Banagher, who is idealistic and pure-hearted to a fault. His lack of growth is frustrating, and while he does not succeed in all his endeavors, he does succeed whenever the plot is at stake. Likewise for the Gundam Unicorn, the miracle machine that transforms, takes little to no damage, and goes into overdrive when tensions run high. But here I will give some points to the show, because in general the other mobile suits, even the ones piloted by unnamed peons, have some survivability to them. A single grazed shot does not make them explode into space dust; even the main characters often have to hit them twice or more, and aim for vital spots. Also, the enemy pilots tend to have some pretty good skills, as one would expect from people trained for the sole purpose of fighting with their suits. It seems like the show may only be doing it for the purpose of prettier fight scenes, but it is refreshing nonetheless.
The visuals keep up with the current age of space fighters, meaning that particle effects fly, the suit designs are crisp and detailed, and the attack patterns of the various suits can be clever at times. Then there are some of the more metaphorical scenes, complete with interesting imagery of spiraling fish and the phosphorescent glow of the people. Most of the visuals are not the most innovative forms of pretty, but a show with nice fight scenes is never remiss.
Unfortunately, the philosophy is stale, and developed through awkward conversations where two or more people stand in place delivering sophisticated out-of-character lines. They also tend to lead nowhere in the grand scheme of things. Few characters change their viewpoints over the course of the show, and when they do it is usually in the form of unexplained mental snaps that make their personalities do a complete 180. Similarly, whenever the Gundam unlocks its form and turns into a mindless death machine, warping the pilot’s mind and destroying their reason, it takes a character death to change it back. Death in Gundam Unicorn is a weapon for toggling the power switch on the Gundam, although by the end Banagher can do it on command. And once one unlocked form gets stale, there is another one waiting. And another one. Do the pilots ever suffer for it in the end? Not that I observe.
The key component of the plot, Laplace’s Box, ended up much more imaginative and appropriate that I had guessed it would be. If I retain any memory from Gundam Unicorn it will be the Box and the dilemma it poses upon its reveal. Again, “dilemma”, not “debate”; with only an episode left to go, and a full 10 minutes without anyone fighting, the show decides to come to a decision and move on. The decisions made by BOTH sides are also out of character. Alas, it does pose some fun mental exercise for the viewers who may actually wish to seriously question the nature of war and conflict.
And for a show centered on this very question, Gundam Unicorn includes far too little debate and far too much idealism. It contains the fundamentals of a fairly good space opera, and that in and of itself is enjoyable. At the time equivalent of a full 24 episode show, the choice of whether or not the time investment is worth it is open, and for mecha fans I would say that it is worth the watch. If nothing else, it makes me want to compare it to the rest of the Gundam canon to figure out where these questions are ultimately done justice.