The first episode of Rideback is a masterpiece. If that was the only episode ever made, I'd give it a 10/10 and lament the fact that we never got to see such an amazing story told in its entirety. Rin Ogata is a ballet prodigy whose career is cut short by an on-stage accident in high school. Though she recovers, Rin is no longer able to dance at the same level and is forced to give up the greatest love of her life. The themes of this episode are constantly and expertly reinforced by the visuals and settings. Rin's post-accident life is shown in drab, gray tones. Her graduation from high school is a lonely, solemn affair. She slowly walks out with her head down, thrust into the outside world with no direction and no motivation. Her one friend rushes to her side, but is unable to cheer her up, as the camera pulls far away and cherry blossoms fall over the screen like tears. College initially seems like a second chance, but she is hounded by memories of her past, tormented by her well-meaning fan, a constant reminder of her happy life snatched away by fate. When Rin reaches her lowest point, she's caught alone in a rainstorm and forced to hide in an unfamiliar garage. There, she finds her salvation in the form of a Rideback. The feeling of exhilaration from her first Rideback outing is hammered home by the shot of her flying high over the city, sun beaming in the distance, the colors dancing across the screen, life flooding back into her face as her passion is rekindled. The combination of story, themes, visuals, and sound is nothing short of pure art, and would have earned a place in every anime fan's heart, if only the rest of the series had reached the lofty goal set by the opening.
The next few episodes are less inspired, but still lay a solid foundation for a 12 episode series to build on. Rin's talent as a dancer gives her a leg up in the Rideback world, with her unique sense of balance and movement occasionally translating into expert level racing maneuvers. Tamayo is initally presented with an awful lot of depth. She's both a rival and a mentor to Rin, simultaneously frustrated at Rin's seemingly flippant attitude about Ridebacks while also wanting to nurture a natural talent. Hishida is a dorky outcast with an endless love for Ridebacks, providing a visual metaphor for the public's distrust and disgust towards Ridebacks. The rest of the Rideback club are all shown as unique individuals with various personality hooks that could be fleshed out later on. Rideback racing itself shows hints of some great new concepts for a racing anime. Ridebacks can go essentially anywhere on land, teasing the audience with the idea of never before seen settings for races. The combat in the first (and only) major race shows us that there's much more to Rideback strategy than we've seen, and that we can expect a twist at any time during a race. The stage is set for a fresh, exciting racing series with a well-rounded cast.
Then the fourth episode hits. It hits hard, with guns and bombs and military Ridebacks. It knocks down everything you've seen built up, derails the entire story, and rips the focus away from Rin and her personal redemption. Instead of watching Rin further her budding racing career while learning to enjoy life again, we're instead suddenly given a ragtag rebel group fighting against a big oppressive empire. Rin's friends change from a quirky racing team to terrorist liberators. Everything you learned to care about is callously tossed aside in favor of a color-by-numbers military plot. None of the original themes are ever explored again. Despite Rin's efforts (and many times because of them), Ridebacks are overall presented both in-universe and out as tools of war and not as racing vehicles, again robbing Rin of her purpose in life. Rideback racing is outlawed and heavily policed, eliminating the chance for even clandestine nighttime Rideback touge with drifting and eurobeat. Tamayo's conflict with her father goes nowhere, same with the rest of the cast, and the whole “racing to win popular support” side of the story is torpedoed. All of the careful foreshadowing and subtle metaphor is abandoned so Rin can have a conversation with a guy while Rideback waltzing in the middle of a firefight, and it's sadly as silly as it sounds. Rideback plummets from its high standards like a bird with clipped wings. If the whole show had been like this then it wouldn't be so painful; Rideback could just be tossed on the heap of other boring rebellion stories. But the initial impression and betrayal are so powerful and unforgettable that it's impossible to separate those bitter feelings from the overall show as it is presented.
Rideback hurt me. It gave me the best first episode I've ever seen, and tarnished that memory by piling disappointment on top of cliches. It gave me a wonderful story of personal redemption before smothering it with a forgettable, aimless and messy rebellion. It gave me an exciting spin on racing that could never have been done elsewhere before mercilessly cutting it out forever. It gave me a reason to always doubt my first impressions. And it gave me a reason to warn you, before Rideback hurts you too.
