Uzumaki
a review by AnimeDweeb
a review by AnimeDweeb
So, how ‘bout that new Uzumaki , huh?
It should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that the ‘24 adaptation of Uzumaki is a resounding flop. And we’re all really upset about it. At the time of writing, I can assure you that several AniList reviewers will make that very-justified anger known over the coming days. Uzumaki is a beloved modern horror classic from the mind of mangaka Junji Ito, who was yet again done dirty by a comically bad adaptation of arguably his most beloved work. So if you’ve come here to hear some thorough thrashing of this disaster-class of an anime…
Yeah, I’m not really interested in doing that. Sorry.
You don’t need me to tell you that this adaptation is disappointing. I trust that your gut will tell ya’ how goofy some scenes are in this. What I’m curious about exploring isn’t the how, but why. Why did the people behind Uzumaki ‘24 make the decisions that they did? Unlike the show’s color palette, this situation isn’t exactly black-and-white. This isn’t just another tale of a soulless, profit-driven production. If anything, evidence suggests that Uzumaki was anything but , and that most signs point to this being a chaotic result of flying too close to the sun. I believe that there’s more to this story that plenty of people haven’t really considered, amidst collective rage and sensationalization in the anime community.
For both present and future newcomers, I’m gonna give you a quick rundown of the bizarre circumstances surrounding Uzumaki ‘24. We’re going to go over what parts of the anime worked, what didn’t, and even make the (admittedly subjective) case for why this show maybe isn’t as godawful as the Internet has made it out to be. Finally, we’ll perform a thorough investigation on Uzumaki ‘s production, and attempt to identify the culprits behind one of the biggest disappointments of the year. So without further ado, I say it’s high time we descend into the downward spiral of Uzumaki.
Uzumaki never really left. Junji Ito’s horror manga serial of three volumes, published back in 1998, is arguably his most famous work. It’s an account of events from a girl named Kirie Goshima, and her strange experiences in the small fictional town of Kurouzu-cho, told through mostly episodic short horror stories, each featuring the titular Uzumaki (“spirals” in English). In the same way that Ito’s classic manga captivated the public consciousness in the years since, the shape of the spiral took hold of Ito, when he first conceived the premise of Uzumaki. The mangaka drew from his lived experiences growing up in Nakatsugawa, a city in the Gifu prefecture. He was raised in a machiya house: a traditional wooden accommodation built in a row.
“[I was really just interested in making a story about people who lived in a traditional Japanese row-house and seeing what happened. I lived in a crowded row-house myself a long time ago, you know. If you live there, it can be hard to get along with your neighbors, so I started by wanting to draw a bunch of wasted people living in that sort of place… I wanted to draw an incredibly long house and in trying to find a way to draw it that way, it became a spiral. Inspired by a mosquito coil.”
— Junji Ito, “Ghost Story Roundtable,” 2003](https://teradyne-blog.tumblr.com/post/19774764781/an-interview-with-junji-ito-from-da-vinci-magazine)
What started out as a journey to explore discontent and conflict in everyday life quickly morphed into a terrifying exhibition of the many unsettling ways Ito incorporates the spiral into his story. Ito’s more than ready to prove just how many spirals could fit in this bad boy. Uzumaki’s initial pages depict individual blades of grass and fauna coiling up, as clouds in the sky and lakes below swirl in like manner. Patterns emerge in everyday scenes. Etchings appear on the sides of buildings and even the backs of people. Something’s not right about any of this. Because while the sheer quantity of the spiral motif in Uzumaki is creative and impressive just on its own, Ito grounds this recurring visual in the Uncanny. Elements such as the environment, laws of nature, daily mundane occurrences, and even the characters themselves are each warped just enough to still be recognizable, before inevitably spiraling out of control. Uzumaki’s short chapters are guided by the spiral motif, but dictated by the way things are, and extracts horror from pushing elements from our reality further and further into the unknown. Ito’s detailed linework art, striking key visuals and uncanny horror combine to deliver what I believe is Uzumaki’s greatest strength — atmosphere.
While a good half of chapters in Uzumaki are mostly standalone and largely reset to a status quo, there are overarching developments that carry over and pay off throughout the narrative. One such narrative thread encapsulates what I believe powers the haunting, daunting atmosphere of Uzumaki: the tale of Kirie Goshima’s boyfriend, Shuichi Saito. To avoid spoilers, I’ll spare you the details of where he ends up, but I think it’s noteworthy to observe where he started. From the get-go, Shuichi is the doomer-pilled skeptic, a knowledgeable teen trying and failing to make sense of the world around him. His hometown is affecting his mind, showing him unsettling signs that others aren’t seeing. He confides in Kirie and tells her of his intentions to get the hell out of Kurouzu-cho, only to have his pleas laughed off. He seemingly develops a paranoia of suburbia, but his anxious intuition is usually correct. The spirals are taking over every inch of the town, but no one listens to him until it’s too late. With the character of Shuichi, I think Ito manages to tap into a specific feeling, hearkening all the way back to the strife among neighbors that he lived amidst as a child. That small-town discontent that emerges from poverty, entropy and otherwise. The nagging urge to change the trajectory of discomfort, while lacking the tools to do so. The jadedness of “wasted people,” as Ito puts it, who succumb to dread and despair. It’s this existential tension over our human lack of control that lies at the heart of Uzumaki, connecting the dots between Ito’s frightening imagery. While not exempt from Ito’s weaknesses as a storyteller, the manga as a whole never overstays its welcome, and is a spine-chilling page-turner that rarely fails to up the ante at every turn. Uzumaki never really left, and it’s no wonder that fans were as obsessed as ever in 2019. Roughly 20 years after Uzumaki was first published, Production IG USA and Adult Swim announced a 4-episode limited series anime adaptation of Uzumaki. And it’s here where this story takes a turn for the worse.
If there’s anything we can say for certain about Uzumaki ‘24, it’s that the series knows how to stand out from the crowd. Rather than settle for average mediocrity, the show instead winds up making an impression on both ends of the spectrum. 5 long years after the anime’s announcement, it seemed as if the anime community breathed a collective sigh of relief when Uzumaki’s first episode dropped and turned out to be well-worth the wait. Sure, the lip-flaps were largely out-of-sync, and the use of 3D rotoscoping took some getting used to. In terms of writing, this highly faithful adaptation of the source material led to a couple of small questionable moments awkwardly carried over from page to screen. But at the time, I was willing to wave off those gripes, because of how effective Episode 1 turned out to be across the board. The linework felt straight out of the manga, the animated body horror was grotesque, and the original soundtrack (OST) was stellar. That unmistakably uncanny atmosphere of Junji Ito’s Kurouzu-cho — the aspect that Uzumaki’s production absolutely HAD to get right — came alive throughout that first episode.
Cue Episode 2.
I know why you’re here, let’s not beat around the bush any further. Calling Episode 2 of Uzumaki “disappointing” is an understatement. At the top of the list of Things That Ruined People’s Childhoods in October ‘24 are 1) this anime episode, and 2) the Game Freak leaks. But how did the public reception to Uzumaki change so drastically? If you ask me, horror is a genre that heavily relies on suspense. In order to trigger our fear response, horror media usually needs to immerse you in the characters’ shoes and raise the tension effectively. Therefore, what separates Episode 1 from the rest of the series is how effective it was at maintaining suspense. It was certainly flawed in some areas, but never enough to significantly affect my immersion in the show’s dark atmosphere. In contrast, the rest of Uzumaki is littered with distractions. Subpar animation cuts frequently interrupted my escapism. Compositing and image quality varied wildly, to the point where some characters looked as if they were cut out from the manga and scanned in low resolution (I actually checked the manga to see if this was the case, thankfully it wasn’t). The continuity of events and internal logic of the show also landed poorly. For all these reasons, I disagree with the Internet consensus that Episode 2 necessarily suffered a sharp decline in quality, at least not in the manner one would expect. Even in this dumpster fire of an episode, there are some pretty good animation cuts that simply won’t make the rounds on social media the same way that the beach scene did. Negative bias does affect how we perceive things, and I’m inclined to push back on that with a more critical perspective. I believe that Episode 1 isn’t really all that far off from the rest of the series, in terms of creative approach and quality. But, Episode 1 was an all-rounded experience that covered all its bases, emerging in an experience greater than the sum of its individual parts. Meanwhile, the latter entries failed in increments that built up over time. These many mistakes crept up constantly in the following episodes, crucially getting in the way of audiences wanting to take Uzumaki’s fiction seriously. And for me, that makes all the difference in this genre. Uzumaki’s atmosphere and aura begins and ends with that pilot episode. In the span of just a week, grotesque horror turned into unintentional comedy.
There’s one aspect of the show I’m especially keen on critiquing. And no, it’s not the animation… for now. Coming up in this investigation, I’ll reveal something truly shocking that explains a lot about why Uzumaki looks the way it does. But in the meantime, we’re going to touch on an area that arguably killed Uzumaki ‘24 from the get-go: the series’ questionable pacing. Now, I don’t think Uzumaki’s pacing is the worst idea I’ve ever heard… on-paper. Theory will only take you so far, and Uzumaki just couldn’t go the distance. Red flags were raised as early as 2019, when the anime was announced as a limited series, lasting just four episodes. 19 main story chapters across four 25-minute timeslots would be too damn fast! But rather than consider either condensing or excluding chapters to deliver experiences worthy of the Uzumaki intellectual property (IP), the production team decided to double down, with the hopes that they could deliver the definitive Uzumaki adaptation within their tight runtime. It seemed as if everyone involved on the project genuinely believed that the episode length was a non-issue, thanks to their “all-star” screenwriter, Aki Itami. Interviews with Production I.G., U.S.A. and Junji Ito himself both sang Itami-san’s praises, claiming that she came up with a master plan fans could rally behind.
Needless to say, that didn’t work. I’m not bringing this up to cast doubt on Itami-san's abilities, because no amount of knowledge regarding story beats can make up for needing to cram 19 said stories with the runtime allotted. Poor Aki Itami was set up to fail from the very start, although she really did give her best crack at things. The pacing of Episode 1 was promising. Initially I was drawn to the idea of having several spiral oddities occur concurrently. It broke away from a more traditional “Monster of the Week” structure that Ito’s source material felt bound to, and instead hinted at a version of events that felt fresh and constantly kept me on my toes. In retrospect, the chapters featured in Episode 1 turned out to be uniquely suited to this writing approach. Since they were relatively light on content and featured periods where time would elapse between scenes, Episode 1 actually benefited from a dynamic adaptation: one where the script hopped back-and-forth between chapters and aligned their climaxes at the very end. Episode 2, on the other hand, couldn’t capitalize on this staggered adaptation. Not only did the episode tackle a good part of FIVE chapters, but it felt as if it was doing the bare minimum to maintain any semblance of continuity between plot points. Pretty much every change in plotlines feels unnecessarily contrived, with some sections lasting for barely over a minute before yet again shifting gears. Moving forward, the manic manner in which the show regurgitates the source material works against Uzumaki’s atmosphere. The storytelling feels forcefully itemized, as if crossing off boxes on a list. Post-Ep1 Uzumaki was only set on getting things done, as opposed to getting things done well.
Now, with all that said, do I think the Uzumaki anime is worth watching? It might come as a surprise to us both that my answer isn’t a flat-out no. Whether you’re a newcomer or an existing Ito stan, I’d recommend that you ignore the noise online and judge Episode 1 for yourself. I genuinely believe it’s almost-mandatory viewing for weebs that aren’t faint of heart, by virtue of just how unique and realized this black-&-white experience is. Anything afterwards is optional. IMO, the main variable at play would be your tolerance for mid animation. If you, like me, don’t find the inconsistent animation quality too bothersome; then you may find some appreciation for the show's detailed linework and shading, made all the more technically impressive in the absence of color. Across all four episodes, in spite of the animation, the individual frames of this show are more intricate than people give credit for, and at times feel as if the manga itself is coming to life.
As for the people who’ve either decided that this anime isn’t for them or just haven’t seen what the fuss is all about, I’d still suggest giving the manga a try. And while you’re at it, I absolutely recommend doing so while listening to the anime’s OST, composed by Colin Stetson. He’s a GRAMMY Award-winning composer with credits on Western titles like Red Dead Redemption and Hereditary. His inexperience with composing for anime isn’t even a bad thing, because this soundtrack is so unnervingly unlike anything I’ve heard in the medium. Inspired by spirals, the music of Uzumaki sounds equal parts haunting and hypnotic. It perfectly complements the striking spirals of the source material, which threaten to scare your lights out, while also being too entrancing to take your eyes off. As an artist working in the West, Stetson stands out as an acquisition that simply wouldn’t have been linked to a traditional Japanese production, and comes out as possibly the only faultless member of an otherwise disappointing Adult Swim collaboration. Speaking of which, it’s now time to take a closer look at a mysterious production cycle spanning five years, and attempt to answer the all-important question: “How did things turn out this bad?”
First things first. Let’s establish a brief timeline of events.
Now that we’ve laid out our timeline, the first thing I’m going to draw your attention to are those storyboards:
Notice that logo on the top right, titled “Drive.” That refers to Drive, a studio that started out with work in music production, before slowly building up a resume in the animation industry. In promotional material over the years, Studio Drive was attached to the Uzumaki anime. Today, we now know that they’ve completely vanished from the project, with no credited involvement in any of the episodes. The Studio Drive trail runs cold, and I’m only left to speculate as to whether or not this relatively small studio left the project due to scheduling conflicts or… some other behind-the-scenes drama I don’t know about. Instead, the studios we did get on-board the long-awaited adaptation of this modern classic manga are Studio Fugaku and Studio Akatsuki. The reason why you’ve likely never heard of these names outside of Uzumaki is because their portfolios mostly reflect production work associated with support studios. Think of regular anime studios as contractors working for anime production committees (i.e., the entities responsible for funding the anime), and think of support studios acting as sub-contractors for the contractors. As sub-contractors, support studios usually don’t pursue their own creative endeavors from the ground-up, but instead work on the behalf of contractors, in a process referred to as “outsourcing.” Outsourced work can include drawing key animation for another studio’s sequences, in-between frames, and even whole episodes. So yeah, that’s what Fugaku and Akatsuki have been mostly up to this whole time. They’re two relatively small teams who’ve stumbled upon an opportunity to make a name for themselves… yaaaaay.
We’ll talk more about Fugaku and Akatsuki soon enough. Right now, let’s revisit an earlier point about Uzumaki’s unusual production timeline. We can gauge that Episode 1 alone took roughly 3-4 years to complete, from the storyboard phase to the final product. Which begs the question: “Was this reasonable?” Was this large timeframe necessary or justified for just 4 episodes of anime, given extenuating circumstances? Well, as someone without enough expertise in this topic, I can’t give you a concrete answer. What I can offer is research and arguments for why this long wait is ridiculous. And I’m going to do that with Director Nagahama’s own words. We’ve already heard how Nagahama admitted to needing “twice as many animators” as ordinary production teams. With so many animators to work alongside, surely a certain COVID-19 would have had a considerable impact on this story. But to my surprise, Nagahama doesn’t seem to agree, claiming that the pandemic had minimal effects when it came to animation, since animators were already used to working remotely at their desks. The only challenge that the Uzumaki team acknowledged throughout the pandemic was that of recording lines from their voice actors, during a time where safe distancing measures were implemented. Granted, these quotes appeared in late-2020, so there’s a chance the pandemic did hurt them in the later years. However, I think Nagahama’s claims offer a different perspective to consider, given that news outlets reporting on Uzumaki’s delays often pinned things on the pandemic as a blanket statement. Barring a severe viral outbreak, Nagahama’s team had twice the manpower and no excuse. If it isn’t already apparent, something very strange has happened in the making of this anime.
Who is responsible for this maddening disaster? There’s a lot more information to share, so I’m going to present my evidence and claims alongside our suspects. That’s right, what started out as an investigation out of curiosity has now turned into a crime scene. The victim: Uzumaki ‘24. The crime: homicide. Down the spiral we go.
For the uninitiated, Adult Swim is an American TV programming block airing on Cartoon Network. The people behind Adult Swim are responsible for broadcasting and producing media catering to mature audiences. Throughout its history, the company carried a level of prestige; seeing “[adult swim]” attached to a project was a sure guarantee that audiences were in for something bold, provocative and creative. It’s this specific marker of quality, coupled with the company’s deep history with anime as a cultural export, that really separates Adult Swim from the rest of the pack. “But wait,” I hear you say. “‘When it comes to East versus the rest, the West is far from the best.’ Americans couldn’t do this manga justice the way Japan would!” Well, Japan also had a 20-year head start, and no one in the anime industry laid a finger on Uzumaki. Adult Swim being outside of Japan has little to do with why Uzumaki ‘24 failed. If anything, I can’t think of any other producer today who would greenlight a faithful attempt at adapting Uzumaki, for better or for worse.
Times have changed. We live in a day and age where projects like Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, Star Wars: Visions and Terminator: 0 represent a recent trend of Western producers ordering anime renditions of IP that are proven successes in the Western markets. Suddenly, the prospect of financing a black-&-white anime adaptation of a pre-Y2K manga aimed at an untested Western market… starts to sound like a hard sell, even for Adult Swim. The company isn’t on this list because they are foreigners. Adult Swim are here because they were the only option, and subsequently let us down by ordering a mere 4 episodes — crucially less than what the IP almost certainly needed to survive. Poor pacing at the expense of Uzumaki’s atmosphere spelt the death knell for the anime. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that Adult Swim are pure antagonists in this story. It’s easy for me to make the people-pleasing choice when I’m not risking hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line. I also have reasons to believe that the company involved did their best to support the production by generously providing resources, accommodating Uzumaki’s many delays and offering creative freedom for Nagahama and his team. But compromising on the episode count is a mistake too big to ignore, and truly reveals how the company perceives Uzumaki.
“[[For Adult Swim], this is their first Japanese horror anime adaptation… I wouldn’t really say it’s a trial, but in a way it is.”
— Maki Terashima-Furuta, “Uzumaki Anime Work in Progress,” 2020](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXuQ9VbOlo4)
Picture this. You are an avid fan of Junji Ito’s work, and waited patiently for an adaptation that would do the famed author justice. Adult Swim’s legendary 2019 teaser drops, and fills you with hope. You start to believe that your wish might finally be coming true, only to hear that corporate executives weren’t treating Uzumaki like a beloved story, but a test subject. I accept the perspective of higher-ups at Adult Swim, I just hope they understand mine. Because this stuff really hurts.
It appears that I’m not alone in expressing discontent towards the executives at Adult Swim, as evidenced by a now-deleted post on Bluesky. Fortunately, it was kept up just long enough to fall under the radar of media outlets, who quickly spurred speculation about how exactly Adult Swim “screwed over” the Uzumaki production team. Also noteworthy was the rather hefty claim that the actions of “one or two people” nearly held back Uzumaki from ever seeing the light of day. Wow, these are some insightful claims! It’s reassuring to hear that amidst all the drama, there’s at least some people who are on the side of the audience. As for who made the post? Well, the Bluesky account can be traced back to-
This section almost writes itself. DeMarco is impossible to omit from this list, simply because the guy carries one of the most cringeworthy resumes in anime history. This includes Executive Producer credits on groundbreaking titles such as: Isekai Suicide Squad, Rick and Morty: The Anime, all 4 FLCL sequels, and… Shenmue the Animation- WHO THE HECK IS ASKING FOR ANY OF THESE SHOWS? DeMarco’s track record is an unenviable symbol of a guy who appears to have the anime inverse of the Midas Touch — almost everything he touches turns to shit. At a certain threshold, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore a pattern this egregious. But in the spirit of good faith discourse, I think it’s unfair to characterize this real person in such a one-dimensional way. DeMarco does have credentials in the visual arts, and probably knows more about Japanese anime production than I ever will in my lifetime. Perhaps it’s possible to be a passionate champion of the medium and Ito’s creative vision, while also being a producer who has a chronic tendency of supervising trash anime. I learned in an interview that the inspiration to adapt Uzumaki in black-&-white came not from Nagahama, but DeMarco! Presenting this medium in monochrome is no easy feat, and is a risky move that goes against mainstream preferences. No, this is a choice made out of passion for the fans. DeMarco dared to differ from the other Junji Ito anime adaptations preceding Uzumaki ‘24, and I honestly think this adaptation was better off for it, despite losing its legs in the long run.
Why did DeMarco make those defiant comments on Bluesky? Was he trying to deflect criticism and appear as an infallible saint to normies who don’t write overly-long investigative essays about nightmarish anime productions? Or, does DeMarco genuinely have the interest of the fanbase at heart? Until I get more context proving otherwise, I’m inclined to believe the latter.
Probably the least impactful “culprit” out of the lot. I’ve decided to add them to the watchlist, as a response to bad takes on Reddit. It’s vital to distinguish how the animation team are less of a root cause, and more likely a symptom of systemic issues plaguing Uzumaki ‘24.
A common opinion found online is that Fugaku (Eps 1 & 4) is responsible for the good animation in Uzumaki, while Akatsuki (Eps 2 & 3) botched their assigned episodes. At the time of writing, I’m dismissing this theory outright. It’s a reductive assessment which ignores how both Fugaku and Akatsuki are relatively on-par in terms of experience, having mostly filled in the role of support studio prior to Uzumaki. Instead, it’s quite apparent that the real difference-maker in this narrative is Director Hiroshi Nagahama. Because interestingly enough, he’s nowhere to be seen in the key credits for Episodes 2-4. The most crucial revelation surrounding this story is, unfortunately, a rumor. However, the claim does come from a credible source, and echoes what DeMarco might have meant with his assertion that the Uzumaki production team were “screwed over.” Dimitri Seraki, Chief Editor of blog site Fullfrontal.moe, alleges that Nagahama single-handedly corrected most of the drawings in Episode 1, and was therefore banned from overseeing the production of Episodes 2-4.^ If true, this claim neatly explains why Episode 1 took up to 4 years to produce, and even implies that Nagahama got NO key animation work done beyond that single episode. Looking back at the evidence, we can surmise that Nagahama was heavily demoted; besides 3D modeling and storyboards (presumably completed towards the beginning of the production cycle), Nagahama only took on limited duties in post-production (offline editing, in-betweens for Episode 4).
#####^A rumor emerged that Nagahama had been fully reinstated for Episode 4. The only evidence I found that supports this claim appears to be a misunderstanding of this post. It was Kouichirou Soutome who would return as an Episode Director on parts of Episode 4, not Nagahama.
Adding credence to this theory is that Episode 4 of Uzumaki literally does not credit a director. It only credits 3 separate entities with the role of Episode Director, which would be below a Director in the industry chain-of-command. What this tells me is that Adult Swim would rather blacklist its own director and proceed with Episode 4 without executive directorial approval, rather than let Nagahama back on-board. With all this in mind, I’m no longer bitter towards the staff at Fugaku and Akatsuki — frankly, I’m even amazed they finished the show at all, in spite of their relative lack of expertise and the dismal circumstances that we’ve just learned about. I could go into more detail about how one of the Episode Directors is allegedly blacklisted from the industry for being terrible to work with, but that barely matters when we’re dealing with a production fallout this gigantic. It’s time we turn our attention to none other than-
Nagahama is arguably the best thing to happen to Uzumaki ‘24. I’m now about to make the case for why he’s also the worst.
Nagahama is the golden boy. An animation veteran known for his attention to detail and expertise in 3D rotoscoping, Nagahama won approval from DeMarco, Maki-san, and even Junji Ito himself. Across 5 long years, Nagahama applied nothing but the highest standards possible, and actively combated executive requests to compromise on his animation process, which reportedly involved correcting most of Episode 1’s frames by himself. Nagahama went all-out and hired motion-capture teams (which do not come cheap!) to provide animation for his 3D rotoscoping. For his storyboards, Nagahama treated Ito’s source material as his Holy Grail, choosing to deviate from the manga panels as little as possible, even if it made translating sequences from page-to-screen that much harder. He’s him.
He also spent somewhere around 4 fucking years to produce a single episode of anime.
Wouldn’t you like to know why production took this long? Wouldn’t you like to know how badly Nagahama must have messed up to completely derail his own passion project? Wouldn’t you like to know why Nagahama claimed that the unusual production of Uzumaki required twice as many animators as normal? Wouldn’t you like to know what, on Kami-sama’s green Earth, would it take for Adult Swim to effectively bench their MVP for the remainder of production?
I’m convinced that Nagahama’s biggest mistake was that he’s singular. Just one guy. He was never asked to negotiate or compromise, until things had gotten well out of hand. He had the full trust and freedom to bloat the staff with a costly motion capture department, despite it being a luxury not many anime productions can afford. He delegated a huge chunk of grunt work to both in-house staff and outsourced labor, only to apparently wind up bottlenecking the entire operation by correcting the frames himself. His unconventional methods stalled production, leading to the unceremonious exit of Studio Drive, for reasons unknown but understandable. As for the workforce that remained, Fugaku and Akatsuki were forced to take the brunt of the blame, despite putting in near-thankless work that could never live up to the Nagahama’s noble aspirations.
Nagahama is one of the best things about Uzumaki ‘24. But he’s not without fault.
Now that we’ve rounded up our suspects, who do I think killed Uzumaki ‘24? If you ask me, I’d say they each contributed to the downfall of this show. Adult Swim’s mere 4-episode order made attaining success a near-impossible feat. Despite well-meaning intentions, DeMarco enabled his star director to do what he deemed fit, and lacked the foresight to intervene before things got as ugly as Uzumaki’s beach scene. Nagahama, in his singular pursuit of artistic integrity, wasted resources and precious time, with his irresponsible work methods requiring a good part of a decade to be fully realized. Unfortunately, we don’t live in that timeline where Uzumaki releases 10 years down the line. We live in a world where animators had to be cobbled together from support studios and elsewhere, just to have something to show for all of the sunk cost invested in Uzumaki . We live in a world where those animators bore the brunt and blame for poor decisions made by people above them.
I lied, the animation quality wasn’t the scariest part of this situation. The behind-the-scenes drama is far more horrifying.
I started this investigation with the hope that people reading this would find some much-needed clarity and closure on a disappointing and infuriating situation. But frankly, after spiraling down this rabbit hole, I feel rather upset myself. Uzumaki isn't a low-effort misfire like other mediocre shows in the medium. They tried to make this amazing, and it almost worked. There's no doubt in my mind that the people behind Uzumaki were passionate about what they were making. Which somehow makes it more painful that they couldn't deliver on their vision in the end. The higher the high, the farther the fall.
What a mess. 5/10~
Thanks so much for checking out the review. I plan on updating this ongoing story if new information is discovered. In the meantime, please watch this space or check out my profile for further updates. If you happen to like my verbose rants, feel free to check out my other reviews for seasons past and present. I also frequently post writeups under my list updates, so definitely take a peek if you'd like to see me mald over anime as they hit the airwaves. Peace~
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