Berserk

Episode 11

If karma really is a bitch, Kentarō Miura would have to be the Bitchmaster. Even when it seems like all the pieces are already in place, he finds a cruel new twist to put on some little thing you hadn't even considered yet. This troubled adaptation may not be the best way to experience the story, but it's still good enough to deliver its sharp ideas with power, even if your mind has to fill in the blanks on the imagery sometimes.

All this to say that I wasn't expecting Ivan Ooze's weakness to literally be fire. It's a savage revelation that only comes at the end of this battle intensive episode, but it makes complete sense on both a narrative and thematic level. In terms of pure plot, the Ooze is sort of a demonic miasma made from the despairing souls that the inquisition has tortured over the years in the bowels of this haunted tower. It's no surprise they'd have an aversion to the only thing they were able to see as they died in agony: the torches their torturers used to illuminate their hellish work. (The manga was probably able to emphasize this contrast much better in black and white, but the anime kept the torture chamber just low-contrast and orange-lit enough for me to get the point without being too dark to see anything.) On a thematic level though, it's even worse. Burning Casca at the stake obviously would not have saved the village, but it would have stood as a horrible irony when the Ooze consumed them and the witch howled in the flames completely untouched. This supposed sacrifice to save themselves would actually have been the only safe haven around, a symbol of hatred and fear destroying their bearers long before their victims. Both options may seem hopeless, but it would still be safer for your soul to brave the flames of heresy than to throw your own torch on the pyre. (Sound familiar, Farnese?)

This theme of false protective crutches turning into fatal weaknesses saves Casca in multiple ways this week, as Father Mozgus finally bites the dust for his own hypocrisy. When his tome of scripture manages to protect him from Guts's death blow in a total fluke, shredding its pages into sawdust, Mozgus puts the good book directly over his heart as he evolves to his final form, a horrible pangolin-angel-gargoyle whose every feather is a deadly pointed boulder to beat Guts into submission. Just when it seems like all hope is lost for the Black Swordsman, he has the bright idea to target the shredded holy book that foiled him the first time, driving home the double-edged sword of Mozgus's inflexible faith. As he blows up the monstrous blowhard's heart with a grenade after a long and awesome battle (flat textures and wonky animation on the cool monster design aside), Guts delivers one of my new favorite Berserk lines. "If you are going to meet your god, tell him to leave me the hell alone." I love this line because, like Guts himself, it's both badass and kind of pathetic. For as cool as it is to watch the Black Swordsman do his thing, you can't help but pity Guts and shake your head at the constant stream of decisions that actively worsen his life. He's deeply sympathetic, but he's not the kind of tragic badass you would ever want to emulate, as evidenced by his awkward yet heartbreaking attempt to hold Casca close as she struggles away from him to gape at the horror growing ever larger around her.

Thankfully, not everything in this episode is gut-wrenching "whorls of karma" as the Skull Knight might put it. Isidoro and Puck once again prove their mettle as comic relief warriors, rescuing Casca with a wacky bungee jumping ploy and defeating two of Mozgus's servants with nothing but a bright flash of light and two rocks. Comedy characters who are all talk and no bite wouldn't really work at this story's dark depths, so it's fun to watch this little kid and a pixie act as indispensable members of the team in completely ridiculous ways. The other moment of levity in this episode might raise a few eyebrows, but I found Egghead's decision to rescue the specter of Casca's demon fetus surprisingly touching. It may be a forsaken spawn of evil, but the poor little hideous baby hasn't really done anything wrong, so giving it a life of "forever dreaming inside the world these sacrifices will create" seems like a pretty okay fate to grant the weird little thing. (It's even tried to protect its mother several times...by drawing demons to her side in the process. One step forward, two steps back.) At least it may find some peace before Guts is inevitably forced to abort Egghead's pseudo-Eclipse by killing the ovoid monster or at least sending him skittering away to gestate Casca's baby into a future friend of some kind. Maybe these two souls who "no one ever found" can find some solace in each other? Maybe I'm wanting too much for two wicked creatures, but in a world as grim as Berserk's, you can even find yourself cheering for the demons to find some little drop of happiness.

All in all, this episode's focus on spectacle that it couldn't portray dragged it down a little, but the haunting visual metaphors and terrific characterization helped bring it back up, evening out to a pretty good week for Berserk 2016. At this point, my eyes have adapted enough to the butt-imation not to hold it against an otherwise great story too much.

Rating: B

Berserk is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

Jake has been an anime fan since childhood, and likes to chat about cartoons, pop culture, and visual novel dev on Twitter.