Through the overworked cells of a dying body, Cells at Work: Code Black tells to tell a relatable story about workers struggling to survive in a capitalist market.

Unlike the original Cells at Work, Code Black doesn't simply teach you about human biology with kid gloves. It rips off the gloves, grabs you by the neck, and yells at you to be better. Every episode is a PSA: Why smoking is unsafe, unprotected sex, why overconsumption of caffeine weakens your bodily functions, too much alcohol over-saturates your liver, fast food will develop plaque and clog your arteries, causing a heart attack. These cells share stories of suffering and trauma they've endured from maintaining an irresponsible body. Witnessing coworkers die from exhaustion, being berated by abusive bosses, and mental breakdowns because of burnout. Although there are dozen of frightening monsters within the body, there's nothing scarier than watching personified cells get tortured. Imagine witnessing dozens of people choking to death because you smoked one cigarette. It's unforgettable. I've only smoked ~~one~~ four cigarettes in my life, and I still felt guilty and ashamed by watching this.

There is always a sense of danger. Right from the minute the protagonist leaves the heart and enters the arteries, he sees problems with the body. Cholesterol plaque formed browned piles everywhere, rusted walls, cracked flooring, and everyone is frustrated. The first piece of advice given to him is, "If you suppress all of your emotions, you can keep smiling." The stakes are always high because he always has something to lose; his friends, colleagues, and fellow hard workers who he respects. Suppressing his emotions becomes his most helpful tool—the later episodes portray his descent into mental illness believably and in a relatable way.

In Code Black, the nervous system cells figure out what is wrong with the body in real-time. They have an intelligence room where they give cells orders, rather than resorting to a narrator, like the original Cells at Work. Most of the time, the information gets naturally woven into the dialogue. Fight scenes were slow-paced because the action would pause so the narrator could explain the science behind what was going on, cue a slide show of information that I would immediately forget. It felt like I was sitting in a boring biology class. Code Black never gets bogged down. It is constant bloody thrills and psychological trauma. This show is nothing like the original, where everyone is happy because they have a utopian work environment.

Initially, I wondered how this show makes us empathize with these characters if they continually suffer week after week with no reprieve? Empathy. The protagonist is pushed to the edge of insanity, working non-stop as a red blood cell delivering oxygen. While he travels around the arteries, he meets various people in the same situation. We get plenty of intriguing world-building throughout his journeys, but ultimately the lore isn't that deep because it is a vehicle for edutainment.

It is abundantly clear every working cell gets exploited in some fashion: Overwork, no breaks, no retirement, no days off, discrimination based on age, penalties for taking a brief pause. Under capitalism, most people need to work after retirement because you need quite a lot of money to retire 64-62 years old on average since the government won't support you enough financially. One cell represents this to-the-tee—the sebaceous gland, represented by an elderly man, works until the moment he dies. He solemnly tells the protagonist, "I'm retiring today," with full knowledge of his imminent demise. Code Black is without a doubt a hyperbolic satirization of a workplace under capitalism—an economic system that couldn't give two shits working-class people. You can draw a dozen parallels to treating the red blood cells to honest delivery workers: High chance of injury, no time to take a break, literally being called disposable. That's how life is for real workers of all kinds, and that's how it is for red blood cells. They have a brief 120-day lifespan; then, new workers take their spot. It's a perfect metaphor for Amazon's worker turnover rate: 90% of the people who got a job there will quit or be fired within a year because the conditions are so dreadful, then new employees will replace them.

All of this sounds depressing, and it is, but there are a few moments of reprieve. The main character's bond with his best friend provides plenty of levity. He is a diligent student, taking notes at the entrance ceremony, but his friend dozes off during their boss's speech. They support one another physically and emotionally when they're at the end of their rope due to overwork and witnessing traumatic violence. Their friendship feels believable. Over time, they help each other grow into multi-layered characters. I never expected to get so attached to these guys, but I genuinely cared about them.

Under capitalism, the economy gets run by a small minority with the most power—they benefit from exploitation. Who is at the top of the hierarchy in this metaphor? The body. The human being indulges in vices for fleeting pleasure like cigarettes, alcohol, and junk food. It could do equal amounts of labor, by exercising and eating a proper diet, however it exploits the working class by paying them less than what they deserve. When the body over-utilizes organs (such as the liver, by consuming too much alcohol), it increases demand so the supplier has to work with no paid overtime. If they complain, no one cares. In the world nihilistic hellish world Code Black creates, the cells must work regardless of pay, which is known as a “market economy” rather than a “planned economy” that divides labor ethically. There are no unions, no democracy. A small group of apathetic men runs the organs, but even they are unhappy. They don't care if cells work themselves to death or are in unsafe work environments. When the protagonist realizes he's disposable, he questions the system. "Are our jobs really worth risking our lives?" He asks. No, of course, they aren't. If you have no other option but to work a dangerous job, you are getting cheated.

Code Black simultaneously educates the audience on the dangers of an unhealthy lifestyle and tells a cautionary tale about working under the crushing boot of capitalism that is so successful I'm amazed it was allowed to air in Japan.

The show doesn't simply tell us "Smoking is bad" and "The economy is exploiting you." That would be shallow. It tells us why the problems exist and how the final arc can solve them: A healthy person who respects their body by not overindulging in vices, eating healthy, and exercising. In this world, cells would take breaks and retire before they work themselves to death. Capitalism will constantly exploit workers—just like a lazy and unhealthy person will repeatedly exploit cells. The only way to break the cycle is a new framework. Within a work environment, every employee would get a say in running the business, rather than ignoring their pleas for better treatment.

Of course, this analogy only tracks to non-disabled people who have a choice to be healthy or not. Someone living in poverty and doesn't have access to healthy food or clean water typically isn't going to have as healthy a body as an upper-middle-class person. We need to be careful not to blame the person for being unhealthy, but their environment. Code Black could've been empathetic to the actual working class by making the body an overworked salaryman. Instead, it is ambiguous as to why it is so unhealthy. The show works as a Public Service Announcement, too, because the body could be anyone. Though it is male, the problems the cells must resolve could happen to anyone—STDs, high blood pressure, bad circulation, blood clots, UTIs, cholesterol. The situations become increasingly severe as the body's health declines, sending the cells into a state of chaos and overwhelming pressure.

There's so much valuable information Code Black has to offer. I'd even recommend showing it to biology students. Honestly, if I had this anime in high school, my biology grade would've been better. If you do show it to anyone, there's one part I suggest you skip. In the second half of episode four, gonococci tentacle monsters sexually assault the white blood cells, who are all women. The show made the mistake of framing it like fanservice, with boob shots and a voyeuristic camera. It's unfortunate because the show treats all of its characters with respect—as real people with turmoils. Otherwise, the fanservice didn't bother me. All of the white blood cells have giant bazongas and unzipped uniforms so you can see every inch of cleavage. But I'm an equal opportunities fanservice kind of guy. I'm happy they made the Killer T cells big muscular dudes with their shirts buttoned-down too.

LIDENFILMS' production didn't have a super high budget compared to the original series. They frequently use CGI for the crowds of blood cells, but never too close to the camera. The monster designs are similar to the original Cells at Work, cartoony versions of germs, but with sharper edges and deeper shadows. Both the opening and ending were grand. As expected, there was a lot of suffering involved, and the actors gave convincing performances. I loved almost everything about this show. The body horror, the relatable characters, and on-the-nose anti-capitalist metaphors.

Regardless of who you are, we’re all humans and your cells are worth taking care of because they take care of you. Even if you disliked the original Cells at Work, or skipped it altogether, this rises above being a spin-off and stands on its own. I would even say it surpasses the original. Within one season it tells a complete story with a compelling hero on a journey around the human body, as well as navigating adulthood in a working world that doesn’t treat him the way he deserves.