Zombie Land Saga Revenge

Episodes 1-3

Revenge is a dish best served cold, and that's not a problem when your metabolic processes ceased functioning decades ago. Saga's favorite gang of motley and decomposing idols are back for another season of zombie hijinks, so they can save their precious prefecture from…something. I had a fun time watching and reviewing the first season, and so far, Zombie Land Saga Revenge feels like more of the same. That's a good thing, and that's a weird thing. The series has always straddled an odd line between becoming an outright parody, and holding fast as a (mostly) sincere idol anime injected with a refreshing amount of irreverence. As I've reflected on the first season, I've actually come to appreciate that tension more. There are plenty of idol anime, and there are plenty of anime that poke fun at idol subculture, but there's only one Zombie Land Saga.

The premiere is a reset button of sorts, reacquainting us with the whole gang and reestablishing the stakes—while playfully dancing around lingering questions like how Kotaro managed to resurrect seven zombies in the first place. Instead, the episode focuses on the object of their titular “Revenge,” which turns out to be the most grimly hilarious mundanity it could be: debt. Someone (i.e. Kotaro) got too big for their britches and, like Icarus, the whole crew found themselves flying towards the sun and crashing spectacularly into a stadium not even 2% full. The always-impeccable Mamoru Miyano milks as much melodrama as he can out of Kotaro's booze-soaked (and occasionally shirtless) depression, but it's the girls of Franchouchou whose charm illuminates the episode. Despite being abandoned by their manager (something of a blessing in disguise, I'd imagine), they're still full of pluck as they plug away at menial day jobs to repay their giant wad of debt. I love, too, that none of them can do their makeup as well as Kotaro could, so they all look perpetually tired and pallid on top of being broke. It's almost cute enough to distract from the obvious metaphor for capitalism's unending grind.

Season one's premiere is a hell of an act to follow—no scene (with the possible exception of the rap battle in the second episode) feels as representative of Zombie Land Saga's penchant for chaos as zombie idol headbanging. The conclusion to season two's premiere, with novelty no longer on its side, doesn't try to outdo Franchouchou's debut as much as it echoes it. And when the entire audience breaks into a brawl thanks to agitation from Kotaro and their two biggest fans (love those guys), it feels like a quintessential ZLS note: a bunch of metalheads beating the crap out of each other one minute, and listening to the dulcet warbling of the undead the next. Zombie Land Saga understands that idols are very silly, but at the same time, it can't bring itself to deny that there's something to them.

This perspective saturates the second episode, which is the strongest offering of the new season so far. Saki is a fan-favorite zombie (and I count myself as one of those fans), so it's no surprise for the series to highlight her again so quickly. With her delinquent background and sharp tongue, Saki is also a far cry from the bubbly and pristine portrait of the “perfect” idol. However, Zombie Land Saga's core strength is the way it averts or subverts idol stereotypes. In doing so, it creates characters and a narrative that can appeal to audiences outside of the idol genre's usual purview. This second episode is structured intelligently around this very facet by focusing on Saki's own relationship with local Saga celebrity White Ryu.

Throughout the episode, White Ryu looks, talks, and acts like a hilarious anachronism. A geriatric greaser with a floppy pompadour, he speaks exclusively in quips a beat poet would write in passing on a napkin, and carries himself with the unflappable swagger of someone who long ago stopped listening to anybody but himself. He's also Saki's hero. Her anecdote about finding his radio show and music is a beautifully tender reflection on how art—even ridiculously cheesy art—can save a person. White Ryu was there to touch the hearts of outcasts like Saki and show them that they weren't alone. He then passes the torch to Saki, because that philosophy is the beating heart of Franchouchou as well. Zombie Land Saga doesn't want to dismantle the whole idol industry, but it does want to fight the homogenization of the idol industry. By highlighting girls who are misfits, weirdos, failures, and—above all else—zombies, the series aims for the gaps ignored by more conventional groups and anime. Even the sixth-smallest prefecture in Japan can shine. Just like Festivus, Zombie Land Saga is an idol show for the rest of us.

Incidentally, the character of White Ryu appears to be based on his seiyuu, an actor and musician who goes by the stage name Hakuryu (which translates to White Ryu, or White Dragon). He doesn't have a ton of other anime roles, but he did voice Tonegawa in the Kaiji anime, as well as write and perform its first ending song. He's also really from Saga, and you can find YouTube videos of him singing in full-on greaser mode. I was very chuffed to find that! I think it's cool of ZLS to highlight a local celebrity, and I think Hakuryu's an even cooler dude for being willing to poke a little fun at himself—although I'm only assuming he doesn't actually travel everywhere whilst reclining on the hood of his convertible.

The third episode focuses on Ai and Junko, the gang's two veteran idols, so it also feels like a more conventional idol narrative. This doesn't exactly play to Zombie Land Saga's unique strengths, but the show's charms are still there. Kotaro is as extra as ever, brandishing a squirt gun and swearing like a drill sergeant, and Sakura literally loses her head for the sake of some fun physical comedy. I also like the implication that Kotaro pulled Ai away for solo stunts in order to both give her a break and teach the rest of the gang to be a little less dependent on her for idol wisdom. Don't get me wrong, I love him because he's a loud jerk, but I think it's cute when he lets slip that he genuinely does care about the girls. Junko's rooftop performance is another highlight—beautiful and sincere, but tinged with the tongue-in-cheek aspect ratio gag. That said, this is a difficult episode to evaluate on its own merits, because it's only part one of a story that should conclude next week. There's nothing terribly compelling on its own (it's hard to pretend there's any risk of Ai joining up with Iron Frill again), but after all this build-up, I can't wait to see what Franchouchou's performance is going to look like.

Overall, I'm very happy to welcome back Zombie Land Saga's combination of necromantic slapstick, wacky humor, and genuine warmth. My affection for these characters hasn't waned at all in the interim between seasons. If anything, it's grown. I've liked and retweeted tons of badass Saki fanart. I've seen my beautiful daughter Lily smiling proudly in the otherwise fetid halls of Parliament. I even saw all of my gangrenous girls in the flesh. And now I'm feeling more invigorated than ever with the prospect of an eventual Yugiri-focused episode this spring, and—dare I speculate—some backstory for the Legendary Yamada Tae. It's honestly wild that we got Revenge in the first place; this is so far the only fully-original MAPPA production to receive a direct sequel (still waiting patiently on that Yuri!!! on Ice movie, of course). It's not always the funniest series, but I'm happy to be reunited with its colorfully skewed and charming approach to undead idolhood, and I wish Franchouchou all the best in their sacrilegious crusade for sweet revenge.

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Zombie Land Saga Revenge is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

Steve is hungry for anime and on the prowl for Revenge this season. Learn about this and more (i.e. bad anime livetweets) by following him on Twitter.