Concrete Revolutio

Episode 13

Concrete Revolutio has reached its first-cour break, and with it, a stunning conclusion. At least, that's what it should feel like. Instead of wrapping up its smaller handful of remaining questions, the series instead rounds up its whole cast to possibly invite more confusion. At least Concrete Revolutio goes out (for now) with a bang.

It all begins in the aftermath of last week's events. Jin/Claude makes the superhuman experiments public. Government officials make promises about what they'll do with the remaining victims, but the damage has already been done. Additionally, groups like Imperial Ads are all too eager to exploit this scandal for their own commercial gain (and that appears to be their entire purpose after all—business). There's an amendment to the Superhuman Secrecy rules up for vote in the Diet, to substantially limit public awareness of superhuman activity. This is against Imperial Ads's interests because of all the superhuman bands they manage, so they start maneuvering to get politicians on their side.

Meanwhile, the Superhuman Bureau is grappling with the fallout of these revelations. Students protest in the streets over the violation of superhuman rights, and groups like Imperial Ads are all too eager to use their support to promote themselves. By now it's 1968, and Concrete Revolutio attempts to tie these into the broader youth protests across the globe that year, from American anti-war marches to Prague Spring. This just makes it all the more frustrating that Concrete Revolutio's specific political parallels become more difficult to discern with each episode, as it throws more and more characters, events, and symbolism at the screen.

One theme does come across strongly here: Concrete Revolutio's version of "who watches the watchmen," which goes something like "who protects the superhumans?" In Watchmen, the "watching" is all about who keeps the powerful in check, particularly those who are tasked with keeping the peace. In Concrete Revolutio, it's more about who protects the powerful when the more-powerful turn on them. It would be easier to tell exactly what this means if the show wasn't so interested in the superhumans being everything at once. It's clear that Shō Aikawa and Seiji Mizushima have a specific historical parallel and message in mind, or they wouldn't have made the 1960s setting so blatant. They aren't making things easy, though—and not in a fun way.

Anime has plenty of masterpieces that disguise their social commentary in symbolism, and many of them have fast become my favorites, like this past year's Yuri Kuma Arashi. So I'm not against dense symbolism, but things need to eventually make sense. The audience needs to be rewarded for the mental labor they put in trying to understand the show. Otherwise, what is the point of your deep social message anyway, if no one can break through to understand it? Emotional resonance should trump being stylish, reference-heavy, or weird for its own sake.

It doesn't help that Concrete Revolutio throws so much at you per episode that it's difficult to separate the serious political and social symbolism from what might be just cool fantasy mechanics. This episode was a prime example with its handling of Kikko. She's now fully transformed into the Princess of the Devils, supposedly her "true" self. However, Emi believes her magical-girl veneer could also be its own consciousness and sets out to extract it. On top of this, we get revelations that perhaps Jiro cared about Kikko as much as she did for him, and their bond may have contributed to her transformation. He has to promise to stay away from her if Emi separates her two halves. These are all moments that could have felt meaningful if Concrete Revolutio spent as much time on emotional character development as it did on dropping symbolism.

The protests culminate in the Superhuman Bureau being spurred to action against Claude. Jiro pilots Equus for one last fight with his long-lost brother, seemingly reversing his change-of-heart from last episode. Why did he go back to the Bureau instead of splitting with them? Who knows. Ultimately, both Claude and Jiro lose themselves in this fight. Claude loses control of his metal-bending powers, merging his body with his suit and vehicle permanently in a gruesome demise. Jiro simply "turns kaiju," transforming both him and his suit into an out-of-control monster. He's only saved by a coalition of other superhumans, including several of the stars from previous episodes, all suddenly moved to save Jiro.

This part made very little sense. It was established episodes ago that most superhumans don't look too fondly on the Bureau—and Claude's revelation gave them one big reason to distrust them even more. Jiro and his friends have helped some individuals along the way, but not always in the long term, and we even see the people who got the short end of the stick lining up to save Jiro here. This ending team-up sure looks inspiring and fun, but it isn't earned by the narrative either emotionally or purely from a plot perspective. So much of this episode feels like it threw out its momentum from the last episode to settle for a more traditional comic-book ending. Maybe it's just set-up for the show to subvert later, but even that set-up needs its own set-up. Concrete Revolutio is getting too bogged down by its sea of ideas to even retrace its own steps.

Aikawa and Mizushima succeeded with Fullmetal Alchemist in the past by making that show's heavy political parallels straightforward, while interlacing them with more timeless themes. That series' politics are incredibly obvious when you stop to examine them on their own, but they were never left to stand on their own. There are always several other themes at play in any given episode, so the show never felt didactic. If Concrete Revolutio wanted to be a series that was both a fun superhero romp and had a strong political message, this down-to-earth approach might have been better.

By season's end, I have to conclude that Concrete Revolutio feels both dense and preachy above all else. I've given Concrete Revolutio many chances, and I still really love its aesthetic and the broader premise, but I've been waiting too long to see it executed well. I still don't have a clear enough idea of what it's trying to say, and I still don't feel invested enough in its characters. We still don't even have the one big answer to the question the previous episode left hanging: what is Akita's motivation?

Luckily, the second cour will begin in the spring. Maybe its creators will have reassessed its direction by that point, and maybe the show's new wad of writers will bring something fresh to the table. Maybe I'll have had time to think on it and feel less confused too. Even if none of that proves true, I know I'll at least enjoy the puzzle of deciphering each episode. Because of its ambitions, my hope for Concrete Revolutio still springs eternal.

Rating: B-

Concrete Revolutio is currently streaming on Funimation.

Rose is a music Ph.D. student who loves overanalyzing anime soundtracks. Follow her on her media blog Rose's Turn, and on Twitter.