Rolling Review – Made in Abyss (13)


Oh God, folks.

If you caught the end of last episode then you’ve probably already gathered that this season isn’t ending without some serious heart-wrenching. And gut-wrenching. Without further ado, then – spoilers ahoy:

Episode Synopsis:

Nanachi explains to Reg via extended flashback how she and Mitty came to be where they are. The White Whistle Bondrewd recruited them from poverty on the surface for an experimental foray into The Abyss, and the “experimental” aspect ended up being using them (and a large number of other orphans) as guinea pigs to test devices that could theoretically manipulate The Curse of The Abyss. Turns out: they kinda can. Subjected to a process designed to force the effects of The Curse from her to Mitty, Nanachi was transformed into a furry but retained her faculties, while Mitty’s fate included the apparently common symptom of being turned into a mindless blob of flesh with the added bonus(?) of becoming functionally immortal. Having observed what remains of her friend being permanently injured only by a weapon similar to Reg’s incinerator, Nanachi convinces him to fulfill Mitty’s last intelligible request and free her spirit from its wretched prison.

And he does.

Riko regains consciousness soon afterwards, and recounts the dream she had while comatose wherein she could sense the presence of someone whose description fits Mitty. While recuperating, she asks Nanachi to join her and Reg on their descent, and Nanachi accepts. After a montage of preparing for their journey, the trio head once more unto the breach.


We were warned – at least, I was warned. At the very least, I had picked up whispers on pre-season comment threads that the source material for Made in Abyss went dark, dark places (I’d like to thank anyone who contributed to such threads for keeping them spoiler-free). When I became the primary voice in favor of considering the show for our rolling review, I communicated what caveats I had found, but the overall quality of its first episode was simply unmatched by any of its competitors, and so we started our descent.

I feel like I have a relatively high threshold for this sort of thing (notably, I own all of the books and the DVDs for both Alien 9 and Bokurano), so I feel a little guilty for taking the rest of the Con Artist crew and our readers down what has indeed become a pretty disturbing path. For my role in this, I apologize, but it still seems like a very well-put together show, and, hey – variety is the spice of life, right?

::weak laughter::

Anyway, let’s start with offhand questions and comments:

Did we not recover Blaze Reap after diminishing the orbed piercer?

I gather that Bondrewd’s name is Anglicized the way that it is because the kana for it are kind of ambiguous, reading something like bondorudo, but it sounds to me like the emphasis is on the first “do” rather than the “ru”, which would look more like Bondord. I suspect that cases like this are rare enough that trying to get emphasis readings of weird names from the creators for localization purposes is something of an afterthought (although I guess I don’t know if anyone involved in the actual anime production said the name in the author’s presence or if everybody’s just winging it). Plus it’s a total crap-shoot as to whether you end up with Japanese people who only think they know enough about English to decide for themselves.

Also on the subject of obtuse linguistic pedantry: after a few episodes of listening to Nanachi speak, I decided to look into the pronoun she uses for herself. As far as I can tell, it’s “oira”, which is a colloquial pluralization of “ore”. She’s always used it – it’s in the very first line of her extended flashback – and if any of our readers have a good idea of what connotations it’s supposed to have, please drop us an email or a comment or something.

Also: if you think we’re making more than one detailed drawing of this hell-hole, you’ve got another think coming.

The fact that Nanachi now joins the other leads in singing the ED makes me happy (the fact that
Tama-chan/Orby has been there the entire time, less so). Tangentially, the music – and the art, for that matter – in this show continue to be top-notch.

I find it odd that The Curse is deformed by Reg’s consciousness but has no effect on his body. I suppose the whole thing really is artificial (which isn’t terribly surprising, given its resilience to other forms of damage), which raises a handful of questions – including: Is Reg still susceptible to the degradation of sanity that Ozen mentions to young Lyza in episode seven? (not that I expect the story to last long enough for those effects to manifest) How – and why – was Reg’s body made to carry his spirit? And why does it have such a high level of, uh, verisimilitude?

Speaking of which…

I feel, uh, similarly
Off-screen: Riko and Reg in waist-deep water without clothes on

Are we really doing this dance? In fairness to Riko’s perplexity over Reg’s anatomy, sex ed is probably not a priority topic in the orphanage’s curriculum for children her age, but, come on, show – dial it back (here, and regarding her interaction with Nanachi’s personal space issue).

That having been said, a couple of weeks really made me forget the kind of positive energy that Riko brings to the show. There’s something about her irrepressible optimism that’s, you know, subtly disturbing, but refreshing. Nothing keeps her down –

You are too cute for this world

– and the rest of us got pretty low before she woke up.

There’s a little more contrivance in this episode than usual, but Nanachi and Mitty’s story still hits like a truck, and letting it breathe by giving the finale an hour-spot is a big help. Bondrewd is one of the best kinds of antagonist: one who truly believes that he’s acting in the interests of the greater good – and who almost is, save for his complete and total disregard for the lives of his test subjects. Between him and the horrific nature of The Curse below the Sea of Corpses, the two girls are trapped in a world of suffering. Even after Nanachi carries Mitty out of the facility (and I actually like the idea that none of the staff bother to lock any of the doors – she’s the only other person there, and what is she gonna do? Just walk out into the most hostile environment ever drawn on a map?), she is only further convinced that she is powerless to alter the unspeakable fate of the first person to ever approach her as a human being.

The goodbye scene is a tear-jerker and no mistake, but I think it might be the scene immediately prior that I was struck the hardest by. In between Reg’s conversations with Nanachi about why he should accept her request, we’ve seen him observing her. Nanachi has spent no small amount of time devoted entirely to Mitty, and, judging by her halfhearted initial response, his condition that she promise not to commit suicide afterwards was probably not completely unnecessary. “How cruel…” she says, after Reg demands, with tears in his eyes, that she go on living after there is finally nothing left of her only friend, her treasure.

How cruel.

I seriously thought that we were going to revisit this issue when she left the room after Riko recalled her coma visions, leaving Reg with the words “This time, make sure you really protect her.” Honestly, though, it’s the visions that tie this whole affair together. Riko comforting Mitty while she also hangs between life and death, and, more to the point, witnessing Mitty’s spirit transmigrate, really adds a level of power and/or beauty to the story that would otherwise have been very difficult to achieve.

Striking out from the hideout after the prep montage is also a fine place to end a season – a show like this really does need to go out on a hopeful note (but not… too hopeful – watch to the end), and setting up the fresh start of the ::crosses fingers:: next season instead of ending on some twisted cliffhanger (and this is a show that could pull off a pretty good literal cliffhanger) is a choice I want to see made more often.


I’m pretty pleased with how this one turned out. The kids are sexualized a little too much (read: they are sexualized A Little, which, by virtue of being a greater quantity than Not Really At All, is too much), and the pacing got a little wonky in the Seeker Camp, but pretty much every other aspect of the show is rock solid and right up my alley (well, one of my alleys – people can like different kinds of things). It’s dark, but not totally grimdark; it’s a good mix of wondrous and heartfelt and ominous and brutal. Might make for good Halloween watching if you’re looking for an excuse to introduce someone to it. I’m definitely gonna be keeping an eye out for a physical release, and for another season – I wanna see if this elevator goes all the way to Scarytown.

Did we…
Did we go out on a visual comparison between the hut façade and Mitty’s disfigured face?
I didn’t see that one coming.



Rolling Review – Made in Abyss (08)

Brendan will be stepping in for Scott this week, who will return next week.

Riko's hair and jacket make her look like the female Geomancers from Final Fantasy Tactics, which only makes her more endearing to me.
*breathes in*


Episode Synopsis:

Like, ten minutes into Riko’s ten-day survival camp with Reg, she about gets herself wrecked by some sort of subterranean hippopotabyss. The pair then make it their mission to bring down the most moderately dangerous game. Elsewhere, Ozen reminiscences about Lyza.


Little bit of a slow week, eh? Technically I think more in-universe time passes in this episode than in any of the episodes since the second one, but almost a fifth of the run time is flashback, and even in the present it seems like very little actually happens. While we do at least get to see the kids put together a plan and execute it, I was a little disappointed that we skipped to the end of the training without a montage. I was even more disappointed that Reg managed to refer to an event that didn’t make it into the episode, and that I wouldn’t give an even chance of being relevant further on, though I guess they might surprise me.

Really the meat of this episode lies in Ozen’s memories of Lyza that she shares with the audience and her knowledge of the Abyss that she shares with the protagonists (including the fascinating tidbit that time apparently flies when you’re in the most disturbingly hostile environment known to man). As far as the latter goes, it does seem a little convenient that Riko & Reg get shepherded down their path by someone who knew Riko’s mother very well (and who thought that they were the bestest of besties until some BOY came along), but, on the other hand, I can see this being a positive development for the story.  Without this infusion of knowledge and equipment, the pair would just be skulking around every layer of the Abyss until they meet their unceremonious end (or at least Riko’s) when some yacht-sized abomination accidentally crushes them to death when it rolls over, or reflexively eats them before they know what’s happening, or something. Now they know enough to be dangerous, and can get into some real trouble.

Specifically, we’ve now got a name and a warning for the dude that we catch a glimpse of in the OP, so there are pretty good odds that, before the season is over, we’re going to run afoul of a powerful White Whistle who will be thinking only about how he can separate our heroes from anything they’re carrying that’s remotely useful. There’s actually a handful of other neat revelations in this episode (one of them destroying my theory that Leader is in some way related to Riko), so I’ll give a net positive to Ozen’s flashbacks, even if a couple of them seemed unnecessary.

The most important thing is that we’re back on the descent. For reference, as far as my casual research has been able to determine, the deepest that humans have actually ventured into the Earth is in a pair of gold mines in South Africa which reach almost 4,000 m below the surface. The mines are pretty far inland, though, so that only works out to about 2,000 m below sea level, a depth that Riko and Reg passed back before they made the transition to the inverted forest. Random fun fact: Shiggy says the word “meters” when he describes the layers (well, “meetoru”, at least), but the depths on the map we see in that scene are marked with the symbol which ciphers to the kana for “ro“, which… I don’t know where I’m going with this, it’s just weird.

Yes, I have spent several hours working out the cipher, based on the episode 3 map, other on-screen text, and the parts of the opening credits that don’t involve reading kanji (found a couple of typos, but it’s pretty well done overall). Could I have looked it up? Probably, but what fun would that be? =P


We got a decent wrap-up to our mini-arc in the Seeker Camp. I’m excited to leave its relative safety and get back to the dive.

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Rolling Review – Made in Abyss (05)

Thank you, Narrator Lady, for reminding us how doomed these kids are.

Episode Synopsis:

Somewhere in the dark and nasty regions, where nobody goes, stands an ancient–


Wait; no – that’s The Trap Door, a series of UK claymation shorts from the mid-80s about living above an uncharted cave system that regularly spat out bizarre creatures. Some of my earliest memories must be watching those old PAL tapes…

…my family is weird.

Riko continues to display chutzpah, knowledge, and resourcefulness as she and Reg begin traversing the second layer of The Abyss. Unfortunately, she also continues to display how her lack of training, experience, and physical capability leave her dramatically unprepared for this journey as the pair come across more denizens of the deep on their way to the Seeker Camp. A near-fatal encounter leaves Riko without her notebook, but the stress causes Reg’s “muscle” memory to reproduce the energy beam from the prologue, giving this episode its title: “Incinerator”.


Anyone else ever see that movie Predators? I know there’s a few of us out there. Did any of you think back to the scene where one of the aliens had set a trap with a dead dude and a recording before Riko and Reg put eyes on the corpse-weeper? High fives all around.

For real, though – this place is insanely dangerous. If Riko can be carried away by a creature this easily, and subjected to enough of a vertical rise in layer two for the curse to cause her to throw up and pass out in seconds, she really shouldn’t be down here. She survives, barely, thanks to Reg rediscovering one of his features, and he also saves them from the Princess-Mononoke-lookin’ inbyos.

Beyond brushes with the local wildlife, a good chunk of the episode is also spent further examining the culture of cave divers…

Riko waxes philosophic on the cyclic possibilities of the food chain in The Abyss.

… (those knorks though) and also on Riko being intensely delusional.

Oh, child. Your optimism is as bottomless as this pit, isn’t it?
(we probably are going to see that again, though)

Speaking of both cave diving culture and delusions, does Riko really think that she and Reg are just going to waltz into the Seeker Camp and everyone there is simply going to let them continue to descend? I mean, I guess she does now, since Habolg gave them some supplies and told them that she already has a personal relationship with the camp boss, but surely her plan was to stop there even before that revelation.

Shiggy’s description of the layers in episode three implies that every color of whistle corresponds directly to a maximum allowable depth. Red Whistles can’t descend into the Forest of Temptation without abandoning hope of rescue; only Black and White Whistles can go to the Goblet(s) of Giants; only White Whistles can go to the Sea of Corpses, and the label of the Capital of the Unreturned is really just a name for the depth beyond which literally no-one has ever returned (with reports from the descended seeming to suggest that a lot of ancient edifice remains intact). Presumably the transition from Blue to Moon Whistle comes with access to the Great Fault, although that distinction may not be a particularly useful one if it’s as featureless as it looks – perhaps leading to the additional administrative distinction of allowing Moon Whistles to be instructors. The map has that half-boat sticking out of the cliff, though, so there’s probably something cool down there.

Where was I… right, so Riko’s already a layer out of her depth and wants to go further, but I suppose that’s really going to depend on what she can negotiate with the Unmoveable Sovereign, or, perhaps more likely (since Ozen doesn’t seem to be thrilled with Lyza’s decision to abandon their mission and save her daughter), whether she can slip through her fingers.

Musings and observations!

I was wondering before (I think), but why didn’t Reg take his red whistle? It would make it less likely for him to be immediately identified as a threat by other cave divers (case in point: the Seeker Camp lookout).

Where did the Moon Whistle getting eaten come from? He’s pretty freshly dead. Maybe he was part of Leader’s expedition to retrieve Riko and fell – if so, maybe Leader and their remaining companion will venture into the Forest of Temptation after him, if not after Riko, and we’ll see Leader again after all.

I wonder if Ozen is at all related to the orphanage director.

They’ve got a similar black & white thing going on with their hair

There’s a little less scenery to ogle in this episode than the last one, but everything still looks great. The monsters are drawn with more recognizable line-work than before, but they also spend a lot of time up close and personal, so it may have been necessary from a being-able-to-tell-what’s-going-on standpoint (perhaps in addition to cost and/or logistics).

The music in this show is so good you guys. It’s tonal and ominous and mmmmmm makes me happy and worried at the same time.

On the subject of being worried: the last time I saw an anime ED with people doing this:

…it, ah, didn’t end well. I will also note that the OP and ED change slightly in this episode (the OP in the ending frame, and the ED with a minor addition midway through), though what the point was in hiding the Seeker Camp inhabitants in the ED given how much it focuses on a character who is still yet-to-be-introduced is a mystery to me. Perhaps my greatest criticism of Made in Abyss so far is revealing a future group dynamic outside of the show proper (though Reg does spend an awfully long time up and about before firing the incinerator actually takes its toll).


Made in Abyss is moving right along: we’ve covered about the same vertical distance that we did last episode ( ~1300m \ ~4400ft). It seems like we’re probably going to stay at the Seeker Camp for a little while, but if that means learning more about the history of The Abyss in some well-structured exposition and flashbacks (which, at this point, I am fully confident that this show can pull off), I am 100% all for it.

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Rolling Review – Made in Abyss (01)

Episode Synopsis:

Long ago, the city of Orth was built around a mysterious opening in the Earth. No explorer who has ever returned to the surface has seen the extent of its depths, but expeditions continue to yield valuable artifacts. Novice spelunker Riko seeks to follow in her lost mother’s footsteps, but must first rise through the ranks at her orphanage. On her first solo delve, she comes across an unconscious cybernetic boy, and proceeds to sneak him back to her home while attempting to keep him secret from the orphanage administrators.


Boy howdy, folks, I think we’ve caught ourselves another good one. This episode is a phenomenal introduction to a beautifully rendered fantasy world. Pretty much every aspect of this show struck a chord for me, so let me go down the line.

The setting is gorgeous. There’s a hint of melancholy in the air everywhere we go, from the petrified trees 100 meters down to the sleepy shots of Orth itself. One might expect a place like this to be a bustling haunt of RPG-style adventuring parties (MMO or otherwise) picking up legendary super-weapons with which to fight God or whatever, but so far there’s a much more intimate feel to the place. I was reminded of games like Terraria (where drilling through underground ecosystems and finding creepy relics is core gameplay), Risk of Rain (a game built around moving through surprisingly vertical alien landscapes, hunting for debris from your wrecked spacecraft, and shooting up the incredibly dangerous local fauna), and Cave Story (which, uhh… just play Cave Story).

The BGM is sparse so far but I’ve no complaints with it, nor with the ending theme. I’m especially intrigued by the opening theme, which seems to be in full English and has some cool sort of arrhythmic bits in it.

I’ve got something of a soft spot for puni plush character designs (pun intended), so I think the kids are adorable. The adults we meet are appropriately stylized without being excessively detailed.

Left: The man who coordinates the orphans’ excavations, referred to only as Leader
Right: The orphanage’s intimidating Director

In addition to being well-designed – and well-animated – everyone’s personalities are conveyed well and everyone is pretty likeable. The Director functions as the primary antagonist that doesn’t come from a bottomless pit, and this is due mostly to an extreme punishment once dealt to Riko and the subsequent fear of how exactly the rest of her idea of discipline is calibrated. Conversely, Riko’s childish enthusiasm is infectious, and one gets the sense that most of her associates put up with her reckless behavior because she, and they, are genuinely good people.

The show regularly tosses in bits of levity in the form of quick gags. These are especially welcome in the light of chatter that I’ve seen online suggesting that the show is fated to become a soul-crushing sob-fest, presumably to accurately adapt its source material (which I haven’t read). Unfortunate things happening to cute anime girls is not a new thing, though – nor is it something that I’m generally averse to (though it is certainly possible to overdo).


It may be a long way down before we reach the bottom of Made in Abyss, but it looks from here like a trip I’d like to take.

Stay positive, kids, and hope for the best – but prepare for the worst.


Night on the Galactic Railroad

Episode/Series/Film Synopsis:

Giovanni lives on the outskirts of a small town, in a world where society is just beginning to industrialize. He attends what appears to be the equivalent of middle school, where several of his classmates mock him for middle school kinds of things, like the fact that his father is late from returning from his latest job in a faraway sea. Wandering on the night of a town festival, Giovanni boards a mysterious train, and is shortly joined by his only friend, Campanella. As the train traces an arc through the milky way, the boys observe slices of a wide and fantastic world, and ponder the nature of happiness.


Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to one of the most beautifully surreal films that I’ve ever experienced. Before I start getting into it, though, a little background may be in order.

Giovanni’s town seems incredibly quaint by today’s standards – its denizens get around its winding, stone pathways entirely on foot, and the only visible presence of electricity is in the lights and a single telephone. Though the movie was produced in the 1985, the story is not intentionally a period piece – it was originally published as a novel in the 1930s, after being compiled from drafts written in rural Japan somewhere around 1927 by poet and idealist Kenji Miyazawa. Kenji was tragically unappreciated in his own time, but has become one of Japan’s most enduring authors, with this story and others still in publication today. The book itself is seen in the anime Looking Up at the Half-Moon, and the concept of interstellar locomotives seems to have been a basis for several of the works of Leiji Matsumoto.

As an aside, there was a biographical anime special produced about Miyazawa in 1996 (to coincide with his hundredth birthday), which somehow managed to get released on DVD here in the states – under the title Spring and Chaos. Notably, both that feature and a recent adaptation of one of Miyazawa’s other works, The Life of Gusko Budori, carry on a trend that started with Night on the Galactic Railroad: casting the characters as anthropomorphic cats. I’m not sure that the original staff have given a concrete reason for this stylistic choice, but they actually managed to make the movie even more weird by keeping some passengers that board the train in the second half as regular humans.

Well, regular 80s anime humans

And let me tell you, the movie was plenty weird before they showed up. Maybe not so much the first act, as it serves mainly to introduce us to Giovanni’s mundane life, but, once we’re on the train, all bets are off. The places that the boys see and the people that they meet are all half-remembered-dream levels of odd. The boys roll with every twist, though – and, honestly, if you find a featureless stairway descending into the void of space while looking around a deserted station while the train is making an extended stop,

and you decide to go down that stairway,

and it ends in a deserted version of your town, which has a sign saying “Pliocene Coast” pointing to a second featureless stairway that descends into the void of space,

shoot – roll those dice again. I mean, what are the odds that you’re going to hit the bottom and walk out of a giant bone?

Pretty good, actually

Let’s back up to the sign for a moment, which was helpfully translated by the characters from “La Pliocena Marbordo”. From even before the beginning of the movie, when the title card displays “Nokto de la Galaksia Fervojo”, all on-screen text save for the names in the opening credits appears to be some sort of mangled Romance language. It is, in fact, Esperanto – a language constructed by a Polish scholar in the late 1800s in the hopes of fostering a more easily accessible world-wide community. I think of it similarly to the common tongue in Dungeons and Dragons – it probably wouldn’t be your character’s first language, but the idea is for it to be everyone’s second (having humanity as a baseline in a fantasy world distorts the analogy, but one might argue that the Anglo-sphere today is becoming that analogue). Miyazawa was exactly the kind of person to see the merit in this idea, and the filmmakers chose to animate with Esperanto in homage to his work in the language. I think the choice was more than perfect, as it adds to the movie’s halfway-real atmosphere.

Another element of the movie that contributes to its dream-like aesthetic is the background design in general. Everything has a texture to it, but looks just a little too well-defined. Walls and walking paths often seem too smooth and too uniform; trees are too sparse, and too regimented or too bulbous.

The artificiality of it really solidified in me the impression that this universe exists solely for the presentation of this story.

Now, I’ve done some reading on the subject (though I haven’t actually read the entire original story), and some of the excerpts that I’ve seen suggest allegories that I’m not sure made it into the film. This may partially be due to translation – it’s a little unclear in the movie subtitles what the deal is with the paleontologists that the boys find on the aforementioned Pliocene coast, but another translation I’ve seen casts them as gathering evidence to convince doubters that the fossil record is indeed millions of years old, and not the merely the work of random erosion.


Miyazawa didn’t let his belief in science and progress stop him from being a man of faith, though – a conversation that didn’t make it into the film involves Giovanni and a couple of the characters who weren’t adapted as cats discussing the nature of God. Those characters are on their way to the Southern Cross, also known as the constellation Crux, which is rendered as a Christian holy site, similar to how the Northern Cross, a subset of the constellation Cygnus, is rendered earlier in the movie. Christianity is curiously prominent in Night on the Galactic Railroad, considering that Miyazawa was a devout Buddhist, but this is likely due to his interest in the work of Dominican friar Tommaso Campanella, whose family name and Christened name, Giovanni, are bestowed upon the main characters. Notably, Tommaso was a defender of Galileo, which seems to inform the scene with the paleontologists well as the astronomical setting of the story in general.

The Northern Cross.
No – really.

Thinking back, there were only a handful of stellar phenomena rendered as locations in the movie, but I’ve still got to give mention to the depiction of Albiero. Without getting too technical, Albiero appears to be a binary star system with a larger gold star and a smaller blue star. When the train passes by what one character refers to as “the observatory at Albeiro”, the boys peer out into the darkness to behold an enormous cylindrical tower rising out a contiguous mass of adobe-like structure. At the peak of the tower’s slightly curved top rotates a pair of lights – one bright gold, the other a slightly dimmer blue. The boys look in hushed awe as the mighty pillar gradually recedes into the night, slowly blinking: gold, blue, gold, blue.

[This one you’re gonna have to take my word on, since the scene is too dark to put a frame here and have anything in it be visible. It’s so cool, though, you guys – you’ve gotta see it]

I am a huge sucker for long, quiet shots like that one, and Night on the Galactic Railroad is full of them. The atmosphere of wonder in this movie is so thick I can swim through it. It may actually be a little overboard, particularly in the first act, where a friend of mine was somewhat put off by a pair of scenes with slow rises in audio intensity that sort of fizzle out. On the subject of watching with other people: be careful who you go in with – nothing makes a movie feel like an eternity (and, at just under two hours, this one is actually pretty average – it’s just slow) more than when you start wondering what everybody else is thinking, especially if you’ve already seen it (but maybe that’s just me). Theoretically, this is a children’s movie, but you may be hard-pressed to find any kids with the attention span to appreciate it.


I would personally recommend this movie to anyone, although I suppose I should qualify that by saying that if you’re the kind of person that wants their media to get to the point, you may be better off reading the novella. There’s a sort of “greater good” morality fable near the end, if, like me, you’re really bad at reading into symbolism and subtext, and it’s prompted me to dig deeper in a way that very few other works have. It’s an amazingly rich film, and I hope you enjoy it.


Night on the Galactic Railroad has been graciously re-released on DVD and Blu-Ray by Discotek Media.
There are a few copies of Spring and Chaos kicking around on the used market, and, if you feel like braving the dub, it’s somehow still available in six 10-12 minute chunks deep within Tokyopop’s Youtube channel.