The story is set in the near future of 2063, where humanity has advanced to a relatively utopian state of progress and now regularly explores the farthest reaches of space. Our protagonists are a motley crew of anime archetypes who all come together for space camp, some with previous connections, most meeting for the first time. Once they arrive, though, things take an unexpected turn and they find themselves stranded lightyears from home, with no means of communication, and a dawning realization that someone among them might want them dead for unknown reasons. All they have is a beaten-down, abandoned spaceship they miraculously managed to restore to basic working order, a rudimentary knowledge of how to survive interstellar dangers, and each other. And with nothing but those tools, they have to come together and find a way to get back home, keep each other alive, and find out just who- or what- decided the universe would be better off without them. At it’s core, it’s a very shonen take on Lord of the Flies in space, as our ragtag gang hops from planet to planet, runs into dangers both internal and external, learns valuable lessons about friendship and teamwork, and comes to terms with their troubled pasts as they slowly open up to each other.
If that sounds like your cup of tea, then you don’t need to read the rest of this review, because Astra Lost in Space delivers exactly what you’d expect from that setup, and maybe even a little more. What keeps things running smoothly, despite some glaring issues that I’ll talk about in a bit, is a real beating sincerity at the heart of this thing. Friendship-oriented shonen adventures are a dime a dozen, but there’s a humanity to Astra’s characters and core narrative that really shines through. None of the characters are just the archetype they embody; the bossy brat is hiding a lot of pain and abandonment issues, the edgy loner is capable of being an outright goof, the most put-together among the cast are often the ones just barely holding it together, and the vocal performers all do astonishing work in bringing these nuances to life. Even from the moment we first meet them, their performances alone are enough to get us invested in them, eager to uncover their internal lives and understand what drives them. That’s a deceptively hard trick to pull off; it’s not easy to straddle the line between performing as a recognizable trope and finding something honest and unique inside that trope. But all of Astra’s cast walks that tightrope perhaps better than I’ve ever seen.
Where problems start creeping in is the unevenness of the narrative and its presentation. This is all fairly abstract stuff that’s hard to pin down, but suffice to say, Astra’s overall production doesn’t do it any favors. The animation is appealing to look at, but usually fairly stuff and limited. Moment-to-moment pacing can feel awkward and stretched out at points, likely a result of adapting the manga too literally and not adjusting for the demands of animation. There’s also a bizarre choice to present the vast majority of scenes in a letterbox aspect ratio, only switching back to full screen at certain moments for unclear reasons. If the idea was to make the show feel more cinematic, it fails miserably, only serving to make scenes feel more claustrophobic and limited than they should. Some jokes come too slow on their punchlines to land, some emotional beats come by a little too fast, and these little distractions pile up enough to keep me at arms’ length from a story I otherwise really want to enjoy fully. And these issues all exacerbate certain awkward points in the narrative; there’s a particular moment where the shy, closed-off girl is finally making her big, show-stopping “embracing myself” moment, but it ends up feeling more like a musical montage than a genuine culmination to a character arc. None of this ever really tips over to aggravation, but it always felt like there was a better story underneath this awkwardness that I could’ve been watching instead.
And yet, despite those issues, the sincerity at the heart of this show still shines through. Overall, it’s a lopsided framework, but there are still so many ideas and moments that I really enjoyed. I love the easy camaraderie between the cast and how comfortable these characters all feel in their own skin. I love it’s general good-natured spirit, and how confidently it digs into the drama of the show’s darker moments. And without spoiling anything, the mysteries of the plot ending up having answers that genuinely managed to surprise me, going in directions I never expected but always being satisfying to watch unfold. I can’t count the number of times I was struck by a particular plot turn or character beat that made me gasp in delight with the realization that this show would even go there. For as archetypical as it is in broad strokes, the way this story and cast develop is often anything but. Annoying tropes are mostly avoided, surprise turns catch you off guard, and everyone and everything feels a lot richer and a lot more fleshed out than your typical mindless fare. There’s a particular mid-season reveal relating to a certain character’s true nature that left me completely gobsmacked in the best way; how was any shonen brave enough to make THIS a part of their story? I don’t know, but I’m certainly grateful to Astra for taking that leap.
And that’s the word I keep coming back to with Astra Lost in Space: grateful. For all its faults, for all its inconsistencies, the story and ideas at its score are the kind of emotionally honest, kind-hearted spirit that got me into anime in the first place. Like I said above, it’s a show that works more in bits and pieces than as a whole but those bits and pieces are so damn inspiring that it makes it worth the journey regardless. I can’t say it was a particularly lasting experience, and I’m frustrated that it wasn’t allowed to be better than it was, but this space survival shonen is an adventure I don’t regret going on.
