Recap

With Mai close to death, Mitchy risks his own life in an attempt to destroy Kouta for good.

Aqua’s thoughts

Over the course of just over forty episodes, there has never been a single aspect to Kamen Rider Gaim‘s storytelling more poignant, more brutal and more exquisite than Mitsuzane’s character arc. Few shows are allowed the privilege of a year-long run, making the character’s exceptionally crafted journey from idealistic ingenue to unscrupulous scumbag the standard to which any subsequent hero’s journey gone wrong will be held. Mitchy has gone from admirable to despicable to, ultimately, little more than pitiable. Now that his heyday as a backstabbing psychopath is over, he realizes he has nothing left to live or die for. Rather knowingly, Gaim doesn’t even allow its most endearingly reprehensible villain the honour of a blaze of glory. Mitchy’s mind has been so thoroughly tied up by his own lies, he becomes an easy victim for Ryouma’s manipulations; He’s already been defeated, and they both know it didn’t even need a spectacular finishing move to seal the deal. Mitsuzane has simply backstabbed so many people and abandoned so many ideals to his ever-growing nihilism, there is nothing for him to fight for anymore. Why would he fight for justice when justice cannot exist without evil? Why would he fight for evil when it will leave him unloved? Why would he fight for love when that means he’ll have to let go of it?

In an absolutely stunning, atmospheric scene, Mitsuzane realizes that he lost the one thing he was still fighting for in order to obtain the power required to fight in the first place: himself — turning his obsession with Mai into a dangerously masochistic deification pervading the caricatured, otherworldly morality he has slowly suffocated his so called rational mind on. Mahiro Takasugi pulls off the impossible, making us almost feel sympathy for the complete shell of a human being Mitchy has become. It’s an impressive feat for a pretty boy who was essentially selected from a catalogue because he looked good it hideous woolen sweaters to deliver a performance this poignant, and one that should go down in Kamen Rider history as one of the most cinematic and nuanced in the franchise’s prolific history. Rather unexpectedly, it’s Ryouma who ‘rewards’ Mitsuzane for his trials and tribulations with a brand-new Lock Seed, which converts his life energy into fighting power. It’s a gruesome metaphor for Mitchy’s latent suicidal tendencies, though the way the gadget works reeks of an incoming heroic sacrifice, and I remain firmly on Takasugi’s side when it comes to whether or not the character even deserves redemption. Miserably wasting the last ounces of life he’s clinging on to for an absolutely petty cause should be how Mitsuzane meets his end, though genre tradition and some rather worrying shots of a magical hug of forgiveness in the preview seem to imply the show’ll have mercy on the guy. I can only hope Urobuchi knows what he’s doing, but then again, has this show ever not delivered?

Of course, once again reducing an entire review to analysis of Mitchy’s character would do injustice to this phenomenal episode, as both Kaito and DJ Sagara make some interesting decisions in the wake of the Overlord’s extinction. While Kaito yet again running back to his cherished neutrality after a brief turn for the heroic isn’t exactly a surprise, seeing Yoko sticking with him — though more as voluntary morality pet than outright supporter, so it seems — provides our very first proper female Rider with some nice character development. When she finds out about his wound, Kaito reveals that he cannot exist in a world without conflict anymore. It’s highly possible that the defeat of the Overlords dragged him back to the hardline übermench philosophy he was known for in his early days. To Kaito, the Overlords for a long time symbolized a whole different class of superiority that was impossible for him to ever attain, leading him to soften up his views, as seen in many of his conversations with Mai. Now that he knows the Overlords were just as subject to the law of survival of the fittest as he and everyone else are, he’s lapsed right back into his singleminded desire to be the strongest in the world, regardless of the consequences for the world itself. Two weeks ago, I tried to explain how Kouta and Kaito are both Nietzschean “supermen” in their own right, and this episode only seems to confirm these allegations. Kaito explicitly chooses a different path from Kouta’s — a path that sticks to the ideals he has followed his entire life: adapt to the world, however harsh it may become; because that is how the world separates the strong from the weak. Kouta, on the other hand, aims to make the world adapt to him, and is now fully prepared to face the consequences. Sparks will fly when the two inevitably clash.

Most interesting, however, is the fact that DJ Sagara seems to be located somewhere in the middle between the two. His revelations in this episode all but confirm that he is very much literally Satan, the ‘snake’ who gives the ‘fruit of knowledge’ to the ‘woman of the beginning’, or Eve, if you will. Though unlike the unanimously evil incarnation you’d expect from a kids’s show, Urobuchi interprets the devil as the personification of revolution, rebellion and change, the one who — devoid of any allegations to good or evil — paves the way for a new status quo. Sahara, like Kaito, acknowledges that progress can only stem forth from destruction, and, in line with Kouta’s ideals, allows mankind to beyond its established nature. The interpretation of Satan as a bestower of knowledge, usually in the form of a fruit, who encourages individuality and self-development is commonly associated with more sympathetic portrayals of the character. This usually harkens back to John Milton’s Paradise Lost, which he already heavily based Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Rebellion on. Given his established love for Lovecraftian mythos, devil imagery, ascendence to godhood and other pseudo-religious, occult themes, the constant contemplation of good and evil, self-indulgence and pronounced love for social Darwinism must make Urobuchi’s works incredibly popular with Satanists. Yet most of all, these aspects of his writing signify his prime strength as a writer: Urobuchi is at his very best when he can use allegory and magical fantasy to illustrate and meld different philosophies, from the most down-to-earth to the most bizarre, and from the most idealistic to the most cynical, into one whole, and craft exceptional characters where these dispositions clash.

Zigg’s Thoughts

Looking back on the entirety of Gaim to this point, it’s remarkable how much it’s been Mitchy’s show. Sure, he’s never been the headliner, but so much of the plot has been powered by his shifting allegiance, and the entire series has basically been charting his rise and fall. Now we’re close to the end, and far from developing into the maniacal supervillain I was expecting, we’ve instead got something far more interesting. Again, it’s somewhat representative of the entire story. With the destruction of the Overlords, the conflict part of this tale has effectively peaked. Now all that’s left is the deep breath before the plunge, the final shifting off allegiances before a winner has to step forward. That we’re doing it in this relatively low key way is gratifying.

Staying with Mitchy, his breakdown in this episode is superb example of how carefully his plot arc has been crafted. He’s gone from naive youngster to valuable ally, from unwilling mole to all-out enemy, and from crazed psychopath to this final position – hopeless death seeker. It’s a far more damning and scary indictment of his villainy than any sort of superpowered fight or explosive beatdown could be. All his betrayals, battles and backstabbing have just left him complete alone, bereft of allies, friends or even purpose. Sure, he’s still ostensibly battling to save Mai, but you don’t need the show to spell out (rather literally) that he can’t even remember why he’s fighting to save her. Perhaps at one point he actually did love her, but that time was long ago now, and he can’t even love the idea of her anymore. He’s going on just because he has nothing else he can do, which is really a rather dark path for the character to take, but perhaps fitting retribution for what’s happened. Ryouma is also perfect in this scene as he expertly twists Mitchy to his advantage, while Ghost Takatora doesn’t pull his punches to satisfying results.

Neatly tied in with Mitchy’s scenes is Sagara’s final revelation of his true nature. The trick here is not so much what he reveals as in the way he chooses to do it. The revelation that he’s the physical manifestation of Helheim is interesting and makes a lot of sense, but is also at least semi-predictable. We knew Sagara had to be some sort of supernatural force, so having him as an avatar for the danger they’ve been battling all along makes sense and justifies his interactions with the cast so far. What makes this turn so great though is that Sagara steadfastly refuses to be called as the big bad. Instead, he casts himself as something the show has been very good at portraying him as – an agent of change, come to reshape a world that’s in desperate need of it. So magnetic and charismatic is his speech and so cleverly constructed is his argument that you actually find yourself rooting for him.

The net result of all of this is an amazingly compelling 22 minutes of TV that does everything you could possibly want from a show. Ultimately, Urobuchi has steered his ship where all great shows want to end up – a personal clash between strong, fully formed characters that encompasses both personal history and grand ideology. We care deeply about these characters, and for that reason we care deeply about this show, hanging onto every second, eagerly awaiting every new revelation.

Random Observations

• It’s worth pointing out that this episode confirms Sagara is LITERALLY Satan. Somehow I very much doubt you’d get away with that in the West.
• Needless to say the acting is utterly superlative from all involved.
• I’m a little divided on making Mai the arbiter of our heroes’ fates. On the one hand it’s great to see a female character get such a prominent role, on the other hand it does feel a little bit like she’s being relegated to a plot device.
• Hell Fruit Arms would be a lot cooler if it weren’t a blatant recolour of Grape Arms.
• During his (otherwise outstanding) scene in the rain Kaito’s voice becomes alarmingly low quality at some points. I’m not sure if the show does ADR, but it certainly sounds like they forgot to loop some pieces and just used location audio.
• This post going up back-to-back with Space Dandy 21 may represent the very best one-two punch of episodes ever on this site.