This 12-episode adaptation of Abi Umeda's source manga is advertised as a Netflix Original Series, even though it actually aired in Japan during the Fall 2017 season. Regardless of technicalities, Netflix has finally delivered Children of the Whales all at once with a number of subtitle and dub options available.

Essentially, Children of the Whales is a story that strives to flesh out a fascinatingly different fantasy setting but finds itself unwilling to eschew common anime tropes and style elements. It is so awash in world-building details that the setting itself is practically its own character, with big chunks of each episode devoted to establishing and reinforcing those elements. However, instead of relying on that appeal, the story stops frequently to indulge in time-worn standards like cute little mascot critters or the crazed campy psychopath who delights in killing way too much, even though he's supposed to be part of an army that magically suppresses the emotions of its people. These elements recur just often enough to disrupt the ambiance that this story seems to be aiming for.

That's also a nuisance because the series is at its best when it emphasizes its own distinct identity. Many of its core concepts have been explored before; the mobile city wandering the sandy wastes is a staple of many famous fantasy anime, and many of its other elements find their origins in influential sci fi and fantasy tales across many cultures. However, the writing pulls them together into its own flavor, resulting in several intriguing ideas. The premise of one Empire deliberately repressing the emotions of its inhabitants while allowing the royal elite to benefit from a work-around is a unique means of establishing a class system, and the exile of the Mud Whale's inhabitants is a thoroughly logical extension of this premise, as is Lykos's difficulty with handling her emotions when they start to return, leading to her initial desperation to be rid of them.

The Mud Whale's society is also fully realized. The governmental system is a natural outgrowth of their circumstances, and the Elders not revealing the truth about their situation is a practical one, even if may seem a little cold-hearted. The semblance of religion that's developed, especially around ceremonies involving death, is also a nice touch. The way song and dance are integrated into society adds further flavor, as do the alien presence of the Nous. Even the rules of magic are clearly defined and unique, not to mention the attention-getting presence of creepy jesters. And then the series dumps in a foreign visitor with his anime-typical entourage and shakes things up in a negative way.

The look of the series is also distinct. J.C. Staff has done an excellent job portraying the series' character through memorable backgrounds and coloring, balancing the more mundanely typical character designs with an aesthetic of soft tones and the Mud Whale's grounded design against its austere interiors and the surrounding sands. This results in some beautiful scenes, especially an early one where a horde of insects takes flight, contrasting with the series' more regular earthy appearance. It isn't as flawless in its CG integration as some other recent Netflix titles, and there are still rough spots in the animation, but it usually delivers in action scenes. Its depiction of war can get somewhat graphic and deadly, but it's not bloody or dark enough to be worth noting with caution.

The music also works hard to promote the series' distinctive flavor. An upbeat opener that sounds like looking to the future begins each episode, while a more melancholy closer which rings of looking to the past wraps up most episodes. The underlying soundtrack varies from vocal-enhanced eeriness to light tunes with a medieval flavor to grandly sweeping ballads when the people come together to sing and dance, with an overall effect suggesting that the score was intended to sound unique in its influences.

Thankfully, Netflix relies on the usual suspects for this English dub (instead of repeating its disastrous experiment with A.I.C.O. -Incarnation-). Most of the major roles are familiar voices from the Bang Zoom! Entertainment crowd. Johnny Yong Bosch uses his most high-pitched and youthful register for Chakuro, which I have never liked but may bother others less. Other casting choices are reasonable and at least adequately performed, though Melissa Fahn's rendition of Lykos comes off sounding harsher than the Japanese original. (That's not necessarily a problem, as the original Japanese performance may seem too soft and nice given Lykos's background.)

Though the last episode gives a proper ending to the current storyline, it also lends the distinct impression that this season is just one piece of a much bigger picture, leaving the plot spun by Lykos's elder brother open for later resolution. As a standalone story, Children of the Whales is a decent fantasy exploration of an interesting world and setting, but questionable conceptual choices keep it from being as strong as it could have been.