Let me give you a quick insight into my background coming into this review. I have not read the source material of this anime. Like many, I was enchanted by the original TV adaptation of Made in Abyss and eagerly anticipated the release of the sequel film Dawn of the Deep Soul. My expectations were set quite high, as many fans familiar with the manga had already proclaimed the Bondrewd chapters the most brilliant arc the series has to offer. Additionally, many reviews on this site gave the film glowing reviews and high scores across the board.
And yet, I came out of the experience severely disappointed and, frankly, a little disgusted. In fact, the impression this film left on me was so strong that it has compelled me to write my first review on this site.
Let me explain why in two points.
First, Made in Abyss: Dawn of the Deep Soul commits the cardinal sin of destroying a universe that has been introduced to the viewer as a largely consistent world with consequences. While the previous chapter confronted our protagonists with a cruel, unfeeling environment that consistently drove them to their limits and towards despair, these elements are largely absent from this entry. On a technical level, the insurmountable difference in power between our leads and the antagonist is ultimately evened by Reg gaining tremendous new abilities at the drop of a hat. Meanwhile, the emotional tension established between Bondrewd and Nanachi and, by extension, Reg and Riku ultimately goes nowhere. It is not resolved, it is deleted. In the end, everyone goes their separate ways in quiet acknowledgement of the other without having resolved the conflict that was originally proposed. Most crucially, Prushka’s narrative, clearly designed to be the film’s emotional focal point, falls flat because her relationship to our leads feels unearned. Instead, she is discarded for shock value and becomes a cheap tool for our protagonists going forward. It is in this regard that the film fails most miserably to provide the audience with emotional authenticity.
Second, this film is uncomfortable to watch. And not in the way intended. Even during the initial 2017 run of Made in Abyss I was aware of Tsukishi Akihito’s troubling sexuality. Back then, I was able to overlook the blatant pedophilia-ridden "fanservice" that had apparently been toned down compared to the original manga. Dawn of the Deep Soul, however, left me no room for that willful ignorance. Fanservice scenes appear at a more frequent pace than they did in the TV adaptation. With them comes a tonal shift into comedic territory that feels starkly out of place during an otherwise bleak and tense experience. Furthermore, they also increase in intensity: Thus far, fanservice had mostly consisted of “funny” allusions to sexual attraction between children. The film, however, confronts the viewer with a shot of one of the main characters being strapped to an operating chair, a tube stuck to their genital area while their "fluids" are being drained from them. Now, in the context of another franchise, this would have been a pretty uncomfortable moment to begin with. But keeping in mind that this is Made in Abyss, there is less room for interpretation. Dawn of the Deep Soul highlights the unhealthy relationship Japan still has with the subject of pedophilia. Keep in mind that this is not just the work of a lone-wolf pervert. Kinema Citrus as well as everyone else involved in the production and publication of this film looked away or actively supported his behaviour. The systemic problems that are on uncomfortable display here forced me to re-evaluate my relationship with Made in Abyss. I guess I could give the film props for finally pushing me over the line. The fact that only a minority of reviewers on this site have come to a similar conclusion in their reviews is baffling to me.
There is a brilliant sequel hidden amongst all this. The art direction is once again stunning, the world building is compelling, the animation fires on all cylinders during the large action set pieces and the music once again manages to lure the viewer into the deepest chasms of the abyss. Bondrewd is a fascinating villain and his relationship with Prushka has massive potential to become one of the most memorable dives into the human condition the medium of anime has to offer. The pieces of the puzzle are all there. I am certain that, with a few competent rewrites regarding plot convenience and narrative cohesion, the plot and themes could have been salvaged. References to the author’s worst tendencies could have been excluded. This sequel could have been a masterpiece.
The fact that it is not breaks my heart a little.
