Orb: On the Movements of the Earth

Episodes 1-3

Orb's opening moments are revealing. Rather than highlight the scientific side of the story, it instead “treats” the audience to two graphic scenes of torture that emphasize both the physical and psychological horror of the practice. On one hand, this grounds the show in the grittiness of reality and clues us into the narrative angle and tone it will adapt. On the other hand, it's a sensationalized start designed to suck its target audience in—as the manga was originally published in a seinen magazine, this slakes an adolescent thirst for blood and seriousness. The “pear of anguish” that Nowak brandishes, for instance, likely never functioned as a torture device. It might have been used to stretch out socks.

And yet, these embellishments sit perfectly fine in the realm of historical fiction that Orb very clearly occupies. It cheekily references the kingdom of “P”oland and the “C”atholic Church, but context alone is enough to orient the audience. Schoolchildren learn about the contentious progression from geocentric to heliocentric models of the universe, and even my Catholic elementary education paid lip service to the Church's history of blood-soaked dominion over Europe and beyond. While Orb may fiddle with the details for the sake of its narrative, it has so far adhered to the grander truths and themes of oppression. That's the important part.

Indeed, I think the most compelling point so far has little to do with the specifics of either the research or the Inquisition. Rather, it's found in the oppositional motivations of Rafal and Nowak. Nowak's existence drips in irony. He helps a child in one scene and brutally tortures that child's father in the very next one. He speaks of the sanctity of life while brandishing sleeves stained by the dried blood of his victims. However, he reconciles that dissonance for the sake of his daughter and the “peaceful” world she deserves. This is, essentially, the fundamental contradiction of conservatism. It's a worldview that believes traditions to be sacrosanct and immutable, yet so often it finds itself fighting tooth and nail against the tide of history.

When we meet Rafal, he actually lacks any convictions. Wise beyond his years, he perceives the violence and tension around him and chooses to simply go with the flow for the easiest life possible. That works until he meets Hubert, who forces him to confront the intoxicating allure of being right. Seriously, though, I like that Hubert's appeal has the tinge of religion to it. The geocentric model is plagued by bizarre embellishments meant to account for the strange movements of the planets (named so after the Greek word for “wanderers”). He envies the kind of understanding we have now, where a handful of forces (mostly) accounts for the nature of the universe as we know it. There's a beauty in it that Rafal can't look away from. Rafal's spirituality, however, diverges from Nowak's. Instead of upholding the past, Rafal eventually decides to bet his life on the future. He believes in science as a progressive force both bigger than him and inevitable. In that sense, Rafal has more faith than Nowak or any of the Church's enforcers.

I could go on, but with the anime promising 25 episodes, there should be plenty of time for me to dig into these themes and how the story will continue to develop them. For now, I also need to praise Orb's level of craft and polish. I almost hate to use this word, but it has the look and feel of a “prestige” adaptation. I can't vouch for how people in 15th century Poland actually lived, but the anime definitely gives the impression of accuracy, with lots of attention devoted to the backgrounds and natural lighting. The character designs are strong, and the art is consistent. The night scenes look appropriately awe-inspiring. kensuke ushio's soundtrack sounds fittingly spacious. Orb seems destined for those lists of anime you recommend to people who don't normally watch anime. That's by no means a slight against it, either. The similarly Eurocentric Vinland Saga also belongs in that category, and that's one of the finest anime/manga of the 21st century. So far, Orb is also a better fit for Kenichi Shimizu's style than his last directorial outing, Parasyte: The Maxim. He seems to settle into the subtleties of historical fiction more naturally than the B-movie camp of the latter.

I must also applaud the moxie of this opening arc. By all accounts, Rafal was shaping up to be a fantastic protagonist. I loved that he started out as a little shit, and it was compelling to see the scientist side of him win out. I definitely didn't see his demise coming so soon. However, given the subject of this story, I think this is a smart swerve as well as a bold one. The story of the heliocentricism isn't the story of a single person. Copernicus didn't conjure his model out of thin air. He stood on the shoulders of scientists from across time and the globe. All of science is a multigenerational story full of failures and adversity. Its persistence in spite of those roadblocks makes it one of humanity's defining progressive features. That alone makes Orb a story worth telling and worth watching.

For homework, I recommend tracking down the third episode of Carl Sagan's Cosmos miniseries. It's a great hour-long summation of geocentrism, heliocentrism, and their relationship to history, philosophy, religion, and science. That, I believe, should provide just enough context for Orb going forward. If you want, you may also choose to read these reviews in Carl Sagan's voice. In fact, I would be honored.

Episode 1 Rating:

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth is currently streaming on Netflix.

Steve is on Twitter while it lasts. He is busy pondering the orb. You can also catch him chatting about trash and treasure alike on This Week in Anime.