Apocalypse Hotel

Episode 8

A few weeks ago, Yachiyo said that she admired the ability to change. This week, massive upheavals for both the Gingarou and herself create far more complicated feelings. “Change” is arguably the most important theme unifying Apocalypse Hotel's many disparate threads. We can glean this from the writing's frequent invocations of the beauty of transience—mono no aware, if you'd prefer—but it's also true of the way the series is written. My consistent refrain while talking about this show has been my inability to anticipate its developments, whether on a minute-to-minute or week-to-week basis. It's one of the most buck-wild anime I've ever seen. While that restless spirit might hold Apocalypse Hotel back from exploring any one thread to a satisfying conclusion, its messy collage is inextricable from its core appeal.

For example, let's begin with something this episode doesn't cover in-depth: the evolution of the Gingarou after Yachiyo's extended spacewalk. That alone could have been its own episode, but the narrative skips over that period entirely. Anything we glean about the new Gingarou comes from Yachiyo's investigations and our own powers of observation. What's evident is that under Ponko's interim direction, the hotel shored up its defenses, which has transformed its exterior into a more militant façade. Apocalypse Hotel could have used this opportunity to follow up last week's brush with political relevancy in a more direct manner. How do we balance hospitality with security? Is this a loss of innocence or a logical next step into the dark forest of the universe? Were the hotel's utopian ideals always folly? And where did all the shampoo hats go? These are juicy questions the text of the episode doesn't broach.

I think, however, there's an important difference between not addressing a question and not raising it in the first place, although this, too, comes with nuance. Tasokare Hotel, last season's hospitality-based drama, had an interesting setting it never took full advantage of, and it was a worse show for it. It was also boring. Apocalypse Hotel, meanwhile, is anything but. When Yachiyo and the gang fly past a promising premise, they do so in the service of some other narrative or thematic pursuit worth their while. This series is overstuffed with ideas, and to me, that's a good thing. It matches the manic energy of the character writing. Furthermore, Apocalypse Hotel continues to be an absurdly well-directed anime despite its chaotic energy, and that signals to me that its decisions aren't made lightly. The artists behind the scenes know what they want to cook, but they aren't afraid to give the audience plenty of side dishes to chew on. That's the kind of ambitious and original series I want to see more of.

This episode's main focus is on Yachiyo herself. While she's never been a static character, her development has never been more front and center. Flashbacks to her earliest days with the hotel's owner prompt us to consider the age-old question of nature versus nurture. The owner argues that a true hotelier cannot be programmed, because they must always be able to adapt to their customers' needs. Ironically, in adhering so closely to the owner's words and wishes, Yachiyo lost sight of the meaning behind them. The spirit he talked about was at odds with her being a stickler for traditions and familiarity. Even her accommodations for alien guests have ultimately been pursued in the service of humanity's eventual return. However, as visions of her friends pop into her memories, we can see that those newer connections have pushed Yachiyo out of her comfort zone and closer to that ideal.

Unfortunately, life isn't simple enough to be solved through flashbacks alone. When Yachiyo reawakens, she struggles with the concatenation of changes made both to the hotel's philosophy and to her own body. That latter point creates the episode's most compelling material, as the damage from reentry has forced Ponko to replace Yachiyo's legs with a tank and her hands with claws. These are obvious metaphors for human disabilities and their aids/prostheses, and the episode also pairs them with laughs, which is a precarious combination. However, I find that Apocalypse Hotel avoids offense by centering Yachiyo's own experiences and frustrations. I can't speak for how persons with disabilities might feel about the material, but it never strikes me as cruel.

Two scenes stick out to me for their smart handling of the subject matter. In the first one, Yachiyo tries to take over her old position at reception, only to discover that her tank treads can't fit through the entrance to the desk. After a beat, she flips herself over and tries to crawl through before giving up and apologizing to Flycatcher Robot. This is a funny scene, but not because Yachiyo can't walk. The physical comedy stems from her determination to perform her job at any cost, which is the same Yachiyo we've always known. Her frustration is also probably relatable to anybody who has had to navigate a wheelchair through inaccessible infrastructure. In the second scene, she tries to write a log entry before realizing she can't grip a pen anymore, which is the last straw that sends her into a destructive frenzy. Again, her claw hand isn't the funny part. It's the all-timer Yachiyo freakout that comes from a very human and familiar place. We empathize with her as she lights up the streets of Tokyo with her cannon fire.

Yachiyo's despair reaches its apex in her confrontation with Ponko, which is a combination fight scene/therapy session of an ilk that only Apocalypse Hotel can deliver. Seriously, I don't have enough room to describe everything that I love about this scene. Rebellious greaser Yachiyo is a powerful fashion statement. The design of Ponko's mech is nice and chunky. The battle is well-choreographed and well-animated, with a special emphasis on how it integrates the setting into the action. Most importantly, though, the emotions are loud, genuine, and affecting. Apocalypse Hotel never dips too far into absurdism without anchoring itself to its lovable cast. We can understand Yachiyo's feelings of inadequacy alongside Ponko's feelings for Yachiyo. Yachiyo has always defined herself by her job, but Ponko helps her realize that she's important on a far more intrinsic level.

I haven't even talked about adult Ponko. That's how brimming with ideas this episode is. While Natsuki Hanae joins the cast as her apparent boyfriend, her new appearance, along with the emotional climax, should embolden the leagues of Yachiyo/Ponko shippers out there. I might even count myself among them. Good luck figuring out how that age gap works, though, because I've given up on reconciling the show's timeline. And regardless, Apocalypse Hotel has more important matters to worry about, like showing us the gigantic Yachiyo statue.

I just want to point out one last thing, which is that we see Yachiyo writing perfectly fine with her claw hand in the final scene. This is an incidental detail, so it's not like the episode holds this up as an inspiring feat of determination. And that's good, because doing so would contradict its earlier resolution. Yachiyo's worth isn't tied to her ability to write, walk, or run a hotel. Being Yachiyo is enough, and I like to think that this realization—knowing that she could take her time—is what helped her learn to write again. Change is wonderful, annoying, and a fact of life. We have to figure out when to roll with the punches and when to strike back, but we don't have to do so alone. Ponko helps Yachiyo come to the conclusion that she can add to the Gingarou Hotel's commandments and bring back the shampoo hats. If that doesn't inspire you, then I don't know what will.

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Apocalypse Hotel is currently streaming on Crunchyroll on Tuesdays.

Steve is on Bluesky for all of your posting needs. Apparently, he is ANN's subject matter expert when it comes to anime about hotels and/or girls in the post-apocalypse. You can also catch him chatting about trash and treasure alike on This Week in Anime.