Content warning: violence against women, sexual violence.
I had my existential crises in my thirties. Almost as soon
as I turned 40, thankfully that part of my brain was freed. Instead of asking ‘What
am I here for?’ my inner monologue assures me that ‘I am’.
I am… what? It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t have to save
the world. I don’t have to be a protagonist. I am Tristan. That’s enough.
The 1997 adaptation of Berserk’s protagonist, Guts grappling
with existentialism ends in a similar place. The key difference between Guts
and I, apart from his monstrous physique and his proficiency with the greatsword,
however, is that I never spent time as a child solider. On a similar note, none
of my closest friends were child soldiers.
With those distinctions clearly stated, it’s important to
understand that Guts is me. For 25 episodes of slashing and arguing and holding
a greatsword close to your crotch while you appreciate the sky, I looked at the
screen and pointed and repeatedly said ‘that’s me.’
Guts starts off as a brash youth (like me), and masters the
way of the sword (me). He makes friends and regularly quarrels with them (me)
because he loves them and because he wants to establish his place and doesn’t
quite appreciate what he thinks it is (also me). Eventually, Guts come to
realise his purpose and it isn’t conquest and empire building. It’s being there
with his friends to drink and be merry and care for them in times of trouble
and strife.
This journey of self-realisation and actualisation is all
done under the Sword of Damocles. In the opening chapters you are shown the
sword and it is pointed to regularly throughout this saga. Then the thing drops,
and my jaw dropped even though I knew it was going to drop.
Even though it is extremely violent and there are a few
scenes depicting sexual assault, it is worth navigating the horror. The
characters are fully realised and endearing, and each (with one very clear
exception) reaches a satisfying conclusion, consistent with their
characterisation across the entire series. Also of note, the soundtrack is
beautiful. Guts’ theme is haunting and meditative. The action theme is like a
Eurythmics track with powerful Japanese influence. I will think of this for
decades, and I’m certain I’ll return to this world again.
The animation is patchy in terms of quality, but there were
some clear highlights. Firstly, painted stills are used to emphasise moments of
extreme violence and drama, and these visuals are always lush, beautiful and,
in some cases, horrifying. Then there’s Guts’ sword which is both,
intentionally and unintentionally, a phallic symbol with few equals. There are
scenes where Guts is contemplating life and purpose, while holding this sword
at his crotch while he’s sitting or lying down. Every time this happened, I
though ‘Damn, Guts (me) is so deep,’ and also ‘lol.’ There are some scenes
where the camera endlessly pans upwards to show the entirety of the sword. This
show rocks.
If I had to describe Berserk in one word it would be,
despite all preconceptions I had, beautiful. It is a beautiful story. It is
brutally violent, cruel and horrifying, but the characters and the feelings
they stirred in me are truly beautiful. Watch Berserk. Then play a Souls game.
Then send me some Reels about dodging with a greatsword.
No comments:
Post a Comment