Shelf Life

Kings of Reon

Like many series involving monsters, cannibalism, or both, Parasyte delights in pointing out humanity's hypocrisies. We shun the murder of fellow humans, but look the other way in regards to livestock farming, rampant waste, and bullying. And while we do sometimes engage in altruistic behavior, we're just as likely to swing the other way at the flip of an emotional switch. Us humans may not be well-equipped to examine our own behaviors and social ills, but through the eyes of alien invaders, they're as obvious as cold, hard data points.

Such is the outside perspective we get from Migi, an affable alien parasite that burrows into high school boy Shinichi's arm one night and takes the limb's place. It had originally intended to take over the entire organism, but failed. Now it just lives as a sentient attachment, feeding off the nutrients in Shinichi's bloodstream, and protecting its host from oncoming danger.

Migi is undoubtedly the star of the show. It's through his eyes that we're even able to examine the world around us, and it's a surprisingly thoughtful running narrative that sets the show apart from standard monster fare. He provides every stand-out element in the show, from the dark humor, to the action, to even the exposition. He's simultaneously cute and creepy, sporting humanoid lips and bulging eyes and appendages that wriggle like overstuffed earthworms. When he moves, it's like looking at a tangle of flesh-colored snakes, with sound-effects that are familiar yet alien (fun trivia: they're provided by a teenaged beatboxer). And as icing on the cake, his deadpan delivery is intoned by the fabulously talented Aya Hirano, who is able to infuse an impressive range of emotions into an organism that professes to have none.

It helps that the series is gorgeously animated by the folks at Madhouse, who give every Migi contortion and contraction the attention they deserve. Whether he's tapping away at Shinichi's computer or attacking hostile parasites with blades, Migi absolutely brims with life. Those who enjoy being grossed out will enjoy the other parasites as well, some of whom open up like carnivorous plants, while others melt and drip like wax figures. My personal favorite is when people's heads fan out like sliced fish and you can still see their eyeballs still hanging on.

As the story progresses, we learn that Migi and Shinichi are both inexplicably changing—the former has to help his host survive a brutal incident, sacrificing some of his well-being in the process, while the latter is changing on a deeper, more psychological level. None of the other characters in the show can really articulate what it is about him that's different, but they all sense it. And in that same vein, the narrative is slowly changing as well. While it felt like Shinichi was inadvertently playing second fiddle to Migi in the first few episodes, he's more and more central to the story now. Just like he's taking on aspects of Migi, he's also taking on more and more of the spotlight in the series.

While I am enjoying being able to watch this series while it's simulcasting, the downside is that the cliffhangers are pretty frustrating. It's not a bad thing at all, but it is rough if you're the impatient kind. Episodes five and six both left me yelling at my computer, cursing at the end credits. If ever there was a good time to catch up to a TV show, though, it's now. Things are getting pretty intense, and you'll want to be around as the season moves into its second half.

Parasyte is perfectly delightful to watch both as a grotesque horror thriller, and as an examination of human life. Those who want to play the "humans are the real monsters" game are invited to do so, while those who want to enjoy Parasyte as a good guys vs. bad guys will find just as much to enjoy. Every season, there is a small handful of shows that I look forward to watching every week, and Parasyte is on the top of my list for Fall. If you've been bored with anime lately, this is well worth checking out.[TOP]