First and foremost, you should know that this ain't Cowboy Bebop, partner! While Lazarus is the most stylistically and tonally similar to Bebop out of all of director Shinichirō Watanabe's subsequent works, it's not trying to be Cowboy Bebop 2. Though the promotional materials, OP and ED, and and the visual direction of the Lazarus are all clearly trying to evoke the style and ambience of Bebop, you're going to have a bad time if go into Lazarus expecting it to meet Bebop's decades enduring impact on the anime medium.

That being said, these first five episodes are more than compelling in their own right and set the rest of Lazarus up to be the exact mirror that our global society needs at this moment. The near-dystopia we're presented with in Lazarus is a familiar one; wealth inequality is extreme and rampant, police are as heavily armed as they are incompetent, most of the populace is turning to recreational drugs to get through their daily lives; and a savior to humanity, Dr. Skinner, is apparently a fraud. What's society to do when Dr. Skinner announces that the miracle painkiller he invented is set to kill everyone who ingested it in a month unless they can find him and the cure he's developed? They get some kinda suicide squad together!

The main Lazarus crew — Lazarus also being the name of their secret organization — is made up of talented convicts who are tasked with tracking down Dr. Skinner under the threat of mutilation if they disobey orders and death if they fail to find him. The show's lead, Axel, is an easygoing thrill seeker who's escaped prison enough times to earn several life sentences, and is almost unbeatable in close-quarters fights thanks to his gymnastics and parkour-informed fighting style. Rounding out the cast is the on-mission leader Doug, con-woman Christine, the young gadget expert Leland, the renowned and soft-spoken hacker Eleina, and their shady handler Hersch.

I'm conflicted over the character writing in what I've seen so far in Lazarus. While Cowboy Bebop had a hardline “show don't tell” mentality, as seen in Spike and Vicious' dynamic only being explored in vague dialogue and a flashback montage, Lazarus pivots hard in the other direction. Several times in the first five episodes, characters essentially turned to the camera and flat-out stated their identity and motivations in a way that no one ever would in an actual conversation. For instance, Doug, a black man, says that he's only a part of Lazarus, because he punched one of his college professors for being extremely racist. Similarly, a supporting character who's a trans woman named Jill, says that she's reluctant to help Lazarus because she's a transgender former convict who's also bankrupt, and that society is so terrible to her and other homeless people that it wouldn't be the worst thing if the world ended.

While this writing feels clunky, it's respectful of these marginalized identities. We're also living in a world where people in positions of authority continue to threaten the lives and livelihoods of non-white and non-cis people, so maybe it's appropriate for Lazarus to hit its audience over the head with how unfairly these groups are treated. There are some laughs in Lazarus' overtly political writing. In one escapade, the crew needs to get into the inner circle of a wealthy stockbroker, and they all privately react with abject disgust every time he does some tacky rich-guy shit on social media. This show knows how to have fun while expressing its politics, and I wish the first five episodes gave us a few instances of queer or Black joy so as not to reduce the experience of those people down to the prejudice against them.

While many of Watanabe's other works, such as Bebop, Samurai Champloo, and Space Dandy, tend to tackle personal and societal woes that are more universal, Lazarus is laser focused on the intricacies of this current moment. The very premise of the series is evocative of the opioid addictions that are growing in number across the world. The wealthy treating women like commodities and some men being hyper fixated on a woman's sexual agency also come up as overt story beats. There's even a bit of commentary on AI's role in the creation of art and the level of social obligation and accountability medical companies ought to face. Lazarus feels like an anime made explicitly for the year 2025, and I'm torn between wanting it to stand the test of time and hoping that society improves in a way that makes its subject matter less relevant.

Lazarus measures up to the rest of Watanabe's filmography in terms of action. Its fight choreography and sense of space are easily some of the best in the medium. Beginning with the first episode and Axel's acrobatic prison escape, every installment has at least one magnificent action sequence that feels distinct from the sequences in previous episodes. They also build on each other in some fun ways that subtly show how the dynamics between these characters are changing, such as Axel using Leland's drone to escape from Lazarus in the first episode, and then in a later episode Leland intentionally catching Axel as he's falling with a drone so that they can continue to pursue a target.

How characters move and fight more generally also feels like an expression of their personality. Axel's pretty freewheeling and his fluid, circus tumbler movements further establish this part of his character. Similarly, the serious and efficiency-minded Doug uses powerful and direct strikes to quickly deal with foes. Lastly, Christine has a more reactive fighting style that uses her opponent's movements and momentum against them, further playing into her playful but deceptive nature. These kinds of considerations were also present in Samurai Champloo, but in Lazarus it's spread across even more characters and helps make this much larger cast feel even more distinct.

The auditory elements of Lazarus are also exactly what you'd expect out of a Watanabe joint. While a bit less varied than Cowboy Bebop over its first five episodes, they are no less affecting. Longer action sequences are scored with a high-energy jazz number that helps the scene feel like it's building towards a crescendo. Gentler moments are underscored with synth sounds that make the characters feel more vulnerable and further establish the anime's near-future setting. From what I've heard so far, I'd be slower to put the Lazarus OST on while working or during a hangout than I would most of Watanabe's other work, but it's appropriate considering this anime's increased focus on cinematic thrills and action.

While it does take the voice acting a little while to click into place, with the first episode or two having a few awkward line reads, everyone has their characters figured out by the third episode. Jack Stansbury's muted but self-assured delivery goes a long way to establishing Axel's annoying “so cool I don't even have to try” confidence. Jovan Jackson's deep and direct readings also make it clear that Doug's always going to be the straight man in any situation. It's also clear the English dub put a lot of work into giving supporting characters accents and dialects that match their background, and that goes a long way into making Lazarus' world feel as eclectic and lived-in as our world.

As for my stray thoughts around the series, I think Lazarus' opening and ending sequences are quite a bit weaker than most of Watanabe's other works. While the character-specific monologue that leads into the opening is insightful, we don't learn much about the characters or the show in the OP, as it mostly consists of the characters falling through color-coded street-art style backgrounds as a vocal-less jazz song plays. It does form a nice parallel with the ending animation segment, as that sequence consists of a swooping shot of dozens of people lying on the ground, all seemingly having fallen, only for Axel to stand up and escape whatever weight seemingly pulled them all down.

The character designs are also rock solid, and the near-future fashion feels believable to be worn 25 years from now, largely because several characters sport enduring looks like leather jackets, Miami casual wear, and accessories like gold chains. Also, the fat cat with a heart-shaped patch of fur that hangs around outside of Lazarus headquarters is adorable. I smile every time it's on screen.

In short, the first five episodes show that Lazarus has the makings of a really good anime. It's a rare piece of media that is confident enough to meet this global cultural moment, even if it's less immediately polished and gripping than some of Watanabe's other work. While this might be an unfair expectation, it's also too soon to tell if Lazarus will elevate the medium of anime like other truly great works in this art form. However, I couldn't be more excited to see what Lazarus is building towards.