Akaza Returns is not a film without high points—especially to fans invested in every aspect of the story and world. Zenitsu and Shinobu both reach the climax of their arcs, and we finally learn the complete backstories of what drives them. We also get a rematch between Tanjiro and Akaza—now with Giyu working to balance the odds in our heroes' favor.

There's an unflinching sense of danger throughout the film as our heroes don't win every battle—nor do they necessarily even manage to survive. While it's hard to believe that Tanjiro, as the main character, could ever die in this film, the same cannot be said for the others—both his friends and the Hashiras. This ensures that every battle is full of tension and the film truly does feel like the start of the massive climax the series has been building towards.

And when it comes to the battles, the anime simply looks fantastic. There is not a single frame that couldn't be put up on a wall. Each image is detailed and clear—be that the characters or the backgrounds of the surreal infinite castle that constantly defies the laws of physics. Likewise, the other side of the presentation, the music, is fantastic as well. From the background music to new songs from both LiSA and Aimer, each musical note perfectly matches the visuals and goes a long way to bolstering the most emotional moments of the film.

All that said, Akaza Returns is a story flawed at the structural level—i.e., the problem is not with the story being told but rather how that story is being told. Simply put, this film falls into a predictable pattern that is repeated a good dozen times throughout. A battle begins, and it is then interrupted at a critical moment by a flashback. Said flashback then gives either character backstory to increase or define the emotional stakes of the battle or is used to impart the knowledge that the character needs to turn the tables on their life-or-death situation. This is then repeated a few more times before the battle ends—often with a scene or two interspersed to show what everyone else is doing (which is usually just endlessly running, occasionally killing low-rank demons as they do so).

There are several problems with this storytelling structure in regards to this film specifically. The first is that the action is constantly being undercut. Just as we reach an exciting turn in the fight, we are forced away from the battle and into a scene with a completely different tone—sometimes for just a few minutes, other times for ten or more. While the information learned in these flashbacks is always necessary for either the plot or characters (and plays an immediate role in the continuing fight), it's always a bit jarring to return to the fight and remember where things left off.

The other issue is that there is never any time to digest these flashbacks on anything but the most superficial level. Some backstories are genuinely emotional or heartbreakingly tragic—or they would be if they had any time to breathe. Rather, the whole film feels like someone telling you a story and then constantly interrupting themselves to tell you other, related stories, so the main story they are telling makes sense.

Moreover, this way of presenting the story drags the fight. This film clocks in at 155 minutes—over two-and-a-half hours—and it feels even longer. Every time there is a turn in any given battle, you can be assured another twist or two is yet to come—along with its relevant flashback. It's honestly exhausting, especially when it comes to the film's climactic fight that just never seems to end.

To put it another way, the biggest problem facing this film is that it is a film at all. As a weekly TV show, the vast majority of these issues would be alleviated. After all, a serialized TV anime is expected to take breaks mid-fight due to having a mere 30-minute time slot. Moreover, having to wait a week for each episode gives the audience time to reflect about what happened—to digest any new information and feel the emotions elicited. All this is likewise true for the original manga's weekly release—which is almost certainly why the story was written this way in the first place.

In the end, Akaza Returns feels like a major step down from the largely self-contained story that was Mugen Train. This is a film that manages to be both exciting and monotonous—easy-to-follow and overwhelming. It's a tonal mess that often undercuts itself. However, the more invested you are in the story and characters, the less likely you are to notice its problems—especially considering the phenomenal, high-quality presentation. Here's hoping the next movie in the series learns from this film's mistakes.