Chainsaw Man
a review by qqql1
a review by qqql1
I want to start by acknowledging that this is my first attempt at a detailed analysis of a work. Previously, I only developed individual thoughts in semi-reviews or impressions, but now I’m aiming for the next level. Therefore, I’m open to criticism, as mistakes are inevitable for a novice. Enjoy the read!
"Chainsaw Man" is an incredibly hyped work. Fans consider it a super-duper deconstruction of the genre, a destroyer of shonen tropes, and a deep critique of society (at least, that’s the kind of headlines I’ve come across). On the other hand, there are those who claim that it doesn’t even reach the level of an average shonen, as the characters are cardboard cutouts and the world doesn’t make sense. In general, people perceive this work extremely categorically. I’m no better, so my goal is to contribute my own perspective to this text. I’m positively biased toward it because, while watching the anime and later reading the manga, I experienced genuine emotions and, I believe, grasped the author’s narrative. I’ll follow a simplified analysis model—from the surface level to the deeper layers. I won’t delve into the manga’s plot: I’ll focus on the anime. Well, maybe I’ll touch on the manga a little, but without spoilers. Let’s begin!
From the very beginning, "Chainsaw Man" establishes a unique motive for its protagonist. Denji fights for material goods? Here it is, pure genre deconstruction in its essence! But while I’ve never encountered shonen protagonists with such a mindset, if you look at "Chainsaw Man" in a broader context… Answer me this: why do you or your parents go to work? There’s a chance someone might say "for world peace," but I think most do it for money. So, I argue: no, this isn’t something unique or unusual, it’s not a genre deconstruction, and it’s certainly not a critique of capitalism. At best, it’s part of a joke that permeates the entire story.
For me, the interactions of the characters are a reminder of reality. Similar ideas are explored in existential realism. We see Denji as a simple teenager who enjoys life and explores it. This is the author’s response to the popularization of escapism. Happiness lies in the little things, in everyday life with the people you care about. Seize the moment, because the future may never come (here, of course, I’m jumping ahead a bit in the plot).
Later, in parts of the story that haven’t been adapted yet, this narrative takes a backseat, and the struggle to reclaim it begins. I believe the essence of this idea is perfectly conveyed in the 12th ending with the song by Eve. This is what Denji fights for. This is what the author wants to convey to us, the audience. And personally, it deeply moves me.
This is a shonen. We have the main trio with archetypes of the classic trio, another world of demons, and an organization that hunts these demons. We’ve seen all this before. But where, exactly, is the conflict of the story? Are demons absolute evil? As it turns out, not all of them. However, the story doesn’t revolve around this. We’re not trying to understand demons, their nature, or their motives. Demons kill people, and people, naturally, don’t want to be killed. Absolute evil versus absolute good—can that really be interesting? Here, I agree: such a conflict doesn’t grab you. And unfortunately, as the story progresses, we don’t get any deeper confrontation either. The main characters (spoiler alert!) will mostly fight those who want to use them for their own selfish purposes.
You could play devil’s advocate and say that the conflict here is Denji’s struggle against the system, against a society that sees him as a resource. However, I believe that the story truly lacks a deep conflict, and the trend of the first season will likely continue. I’d delve into this more, but I’ll limit myself to the first season. So, we don’t see any development of conflict yet. But personally, I wouldn’t call this a flaw. Sure, having a conflict would be a plus, but it’s better to have none than to have a poorly executed one.
I’d consider the appearance of new enemies and threats to Denji as necessary tools for the development of the story and the progression of the plot. Again, you could draw parallels with reality, where there’s essentially no global conflict, and most societal trauma stems from its own pressure and the inherent selfishness of people. Did the author think this way? Even if so, this thought isn’t the foundation of the work, and, as I mentioned earlier, a different narrative was chosen. We don’t see the author’s reflection or thoughts on this idea, so I won’t delve deeper into it, trying to prove or disprove its existence.
Great Fujimoto! The Lord God who descended the flame of knowledge for plebs like me. And I’ll add that the resolution, obviously, isn’t shown yet, as this is only the first season.
Warning: This section contains fairly well-known and, in my opinion, somewhat boring thoughts. But this part is necessary to consider my work complete. So, let’s begin a minor retelling of "Chainsaw Man."
The characters in "Chainsaw Man" don’t just move the plot forward—they also serve as conduits for the ideas the author embeds in the story. Let’s analyze them through the lens of their archetypes to understand how they function within the narrative.
Denji (Archetype: "The Simpleton")
Denji isn’t your typical shonen protagonist. He doesn’t have grand goals like saving the world or becoming the strongest. His motivation is simple and clear: he wants to live a normal life, eat good food, sleep in a bed, and be happy. This makes him relatable to the audience, as his desires are what most people strive for.
Denji’s interactions with other characters often stem from his simplicity: he doesn’t overcomplicate things, he’s sincere and straightforward, which contrasts with the more complex and layered characters around him.
After becoming a Public Safety Devil Hunter and satisfying his basic needs, Denji doesn’t know what he wants from life, even though his initial goal was to fulfill his basic instincts. He really wants to touch a woman’s breasts, which he eventually does. He’s also afraid of losing his humanity after transforming, afraid of losing his emotions.
Denji is emotionally damaged and desperately tries to feel love and be loved by someone. He clings to Makima as a survival mechanism. Doubting and contradicting himself (which I consider a mistake to call poor character development), he engages in self-reflection, and where this will lead, we’ll find out later.
Power (Archetype: "The Jester" or "The Wild One")
Power is the embodiment of chaos. She’s selfish, unpredictable, and often acts solely in her own interests. But it’s precisely in this that her humanity lies. She doesn’t pretend, she doesn’t try to conform to any standards. She lives as she wants, and that’s her strength.
Power is crude, unkempt, and believes others should clean up after her. By her own admission, she rarely bathes or flushes the toilet, and she thinks people are overly sensitive for caring so much about hygiene.
Her interactions with Denji are a clash of two extremes: simplicity and chaos. But it’s through this clash that we see both characters begin to change. Power, despite all her selfishness, gradually learns to care for others, while Denji, in turn, begins to understand the concept of friendship. (Actually, he realizes that not all women are there to be groped.)
Aki (Archetype: "The Avenger," "The Wanderer")
Aki is serious, driven, and motivated by a desire to avenge his family. His motivation is deeper and more tragic than that of the other characters. Aki is a man who has lost everything and now lives for a single goal.
His interactions with Denji and Power are a constant conflict between his strict principles and their chaotic nature. But it’s through this conflict that Aki begins to understand that life isn’t just about revenge and struggle. He starts to discover new meanings, and this makes him one of the most tragic and human characters in the story.
His cold detachment is a facade, and he cried over the deaths of his comrades. He grew to care for Denji and Power so much that he tried to abandon his goal of revenge to keep them safe.
At first, Aki despises all demons equally, regardless of whether they’re hybrids, fiends, or inherently evil—to him, all demons are the same. He sees them as tools that can be replaced at any moment. However, as the story progresses, Aki gradually grows closer to some of his partners, the best example being his relationship with the Angel Devil. This, as I mentioned earlier, is the extent of the demon-related issues in this story, so I’ll try not to return to this topic.
Makima (Archetype: "The Manipulator")
ATTENTION: I’VE INVENTED A NEW ARCHETYPE—"WOMAN!?!"
Makima is a character who stands out from the rest. She’s enigmatic, cold, and calculating. Her motives are unclear, and her actions often seem contradictory. She’s the embodiment of a system that uses people as resources.
Makima has shown herself to be extremely cunning, cold, and manipulative, controlling Denji with promises of romantic and sexual relationships, as well as threatening him with total annihilation if he disobeys her. Ruthless and usually impartial, she’ll do whatever it takes to achieve her goals, even at the cost of the lives of those she’s supposed to protect.
She also understands that she’s not a good person and considers herself a "necessary evil"; a weapon under the control of the Japanese government. She’s not afraid of her plans failing, because whether they succeed or not, she almost always gets what she wants.
Himeno (Archetype: "The Mentor" with elements of "The Tragic Hero")
Himeno is an experienced and confident leader who serves as a pillar of support for her subordinates. She remains calm under pressure and knows how to motivate her recruits, using both strictness and unconventional methods (like offering Denji a French kiss). Her professionalism and straightforwardness make her an effective devil hunter, but beneath this exterior lies a deeply traumatized person. Himeno has experienced many losses, which have left her with a pessimistic and depressive outlook on life. Her nicotine addiction and cynical beliefs ("devil hunters rarely live to old age") are defense mechanisms that help her cope with constant stress.
Despite her toughness, Himeno is a sensitive and caring person. She genuinely worries about her subordinates, especially Aki, with whom she shares a close personal bond. Her willingness to sacrifice Denji to prevent the consequences of using Aki’s sword shows how much she values his well-being. However, her philosophy that only those who are "a little crazy" succeed underscores her cynical view of the world. Himeno isn’t just a mentor—she’s a tragic figure balancing between caring for others and her own demons.
Let’s step away from the heavy stuff and focus on the process. What I’ve talked about, and what I’ll talk about, isn’t just stated by the author—it’s shown. What MAPPA has done is beyond praise. The direction is stunning, the art is too. As for the 3D, I can’t say much—it’s there. If I have some understanding of philosophy and reflections, when it comes to cinematography, I’m a complete log. I have nothing to say except that I was incredibly impressed, and this is one of the best-looking anime I’ve seen. So, to strengthen my position, since many cinematic tools were used, I’ll say that I have some experience with cinema. I’ve watched Tarantino, with whom Fujimoto is often compared, as well as one of the best modern directors, Denis Villeneuve. Whether or not to consider my taste is up to you.
As for the music, I’ve added the aforementioned ending by Eve and the opening "Kick Back" to my playlist. They perfectly capture the mood of the work. Chaos (which I haven’t analyzed yet) and everyday life. It’s interesting that, thanks to these songs, among other things, I stopped listening to metal, which had been with me for a long time. Not that this means anything, or that I’m leading up to some point :0
Up to this point, I’ve only analyzed the key idea I saw and intentionally didn’t say everything I wanted to. Now, diving deeper into my vision of the story, I’ll continue my thought.
As I’ve already said, I see the idea in the value of everyday life in the broadest sense of the word. Consequently, everyday life in this story is, for me, the key element, while the battles remain just context. That is, the fact that the narrative seems to speak about creation doesn’t mean there’s no chaos or cruelty. This is a rather complex work. And, speaking of this, I want to share another thought of mine.
This work sits at the intersection of shonen and seinen. We see common themes inherent to seinen: how the characters are developed, but they exist in a world typical of shonen. This is primarily noticeable in the fact that Denji is a teenager, and thus the manifestations of existential reflection are shown in adolescent colors. After all, would a responsible adult man throw himself at women?
To support my point, I want to refer to the story of Himeno and Aki. We view this love line through the lens of an adult, where rationalism prevails over mere lust. I’d say that the characters’ traumas are shown not in the usual shonen paradigm, where they serve as tools for motivation, but rather with a more mature idea. They (the public servants) are hostages to their traumas and ambitions, going nowhere, living their already short lives.
On the other hand, we see a literal child in Power’s body, which, of course, is part of the shonen aspect. A naive, simple girl driven by pure selfish ideas. But here’s what’s strange: why are the ideas of stoicism, shown through Aki and other characters with high ideals, criticized by the author, while the ideas of hedonism (Denji and Power) are encouraged? Because that’s how the real world is. In reality, it’s often the case that unscrupulous people gain more material benefits.
Looking at it from this perspective, I’d argue: Fujimoto isn’t criticizing the system, he’s merely recreating it. We don’t have any moral compass from the author, we can only observe reality. As I wrote earlier, this is a complex work, and alongside the idea of the value of human relationships, we see other aspects. Not all of them lead to a single narrative, which is strange but also interesting at the same time.
For a long time, I couldn’t understand "Chainsaw Man" precisely because of this. I thought the author would point out the idea himself if there was one permeating his work. But this is a different case. Here, we don’t see ideas elegantly merging into one another. However, I won’t claim that this is due to poor writing. The idea of chaos, reflected in this phenomenon, is present in most aspects of "Chainsaw Man."
At the very beginning, I already referred to humor in this context, and I’ll do so again. Perceiving humor in the broadest sense—not as a joke that makes people laugh, but rather as a narrative style—we can argue that the author’s decision not to introduce a moral compass is part of the humor, and this humor is part of that decision. That’s the paradoxical answer I’ve found for myself.
I’m viewing this story from one specific global perspective, but you could also pay attention to other aspects. Is there a critique of capitalism here? What I’m about to write will likely contradict my previous words, and if that confuses you, please return to the first sentence of this paragraph.
"Chainsaw Man" can be viewed as a metaphor for capitalist society, where exploitation, alienation, and the struggle for survival are key themes. Denji, exploited by the yakuza, symbolizes the proletariat, and his struggle for a "normal life" reflects the desire of ordinary people to break free from the system of oppression. The characters, including Denji, often lose their humanity in the pursuit of desires or out of fear. The yakuza, exploiting Denji, themselves become "zombies," highlighting how capitalism dehumanizes all participants in the system.
"Dreaming is harmful"—this phrase captures the essence of "Chainsaw Man" from this perspective. Here, all characters suffer the consequences of their desires. In fear of weapons, people desire their prohibition, control—and as a result, they become even more afraid of weapons and much more control. For the sake of desires, people become alienated from their bodies, while demons oppress people and themselves alienate their energy for the sake of their desires. In the end, we’re presented with a tangle of class contradictions that make up our capitalist world: everyone wants to live, survive, and be happy, and for this, they deprive others of life and happiness.
The story doesn’t offer a way out of the system. Even when characters find temporary happiness or salvation, the system continues to exist. This reflects reality, where capitalism seems inevitable, and dreams of a better life remain utopian.
See? Looking at the story from a completely different angle, we still don’t find the author’s answer. Where did he hide it? Unfortunately, I haven’t found the answer. Perhaps it awaits us at the end of the manga’s second part, or perhaps it’s already there, but no one has seen it. However, even so, I really like the narrative of the story. I’d prefer to call it the author’s unique style and love it for that. You decide for yourself.
If the narrative is the top layer of the story that overlays all subsequent layers, then the philosophy of individual characters and the models the author used are the deepest part of the story, inaccessible without the necessary knowledge and tools. I’ll present the models I’ve seen in "Chainsaw Man":
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs
Recently, I myself denied Maslow’s hierarchy, considering it too generalized and simplified. In the end, everyone is free to interpret reality in their own way. However, now I’m writing this text based on it because I was wrong. Denji’s development is almost a literal ascent up this pyramid. First, he fights for survival: he sleeps in a shed, eats bread, and dreams of a jam sandwich. His goals are primitive but human—he wants what he’s always been deprived of. Then, after gaining shelter and stability in the Public Safety Bureau, he moves to the next level: now his dreams are comfort, girls, and recognition. He wants not just to live but to be part of something bigger, to find friends and feel like a human being. But even after achieving this, Denji faces new challenges: his needs grow, and the system he exists in doesn’t allow him to rise higher. He’s trapped.
Meanwhile, other characters like Aki or Makima are already at the higher levels of the pyramid, but their grand goals—revenge, an ideal world—often turn out to be illusions. Some of them deny their basic needs, sacrificing humanity for abstract ideals. Their tragedy is that they skip the fundamental steps, trying to jump straight to self-actualization, and in the end, they destroy themselves.
Absurdism
"The absurd is born in this collision between the human call and the unreasonable silence of the world…" ("The Myth of Sisyphus"). This is a well-formulated thought that I’ve analyzed as Fujimoto’s unique approach to philosophical depth.
In "The Myth of Sisyphus," Camus uses the image of Sisyphus, doomed to eternally roll a boulder up a hill only for it to roll back down. Camus argues that Sisyphus can be happy if he accepts his fate and finds meaning in the struggle itself. And again, we see parallels with Denji’s story. However, only those who’ve read the manga will see them, as in the anime, Denji hasn’t yet rolled the boulder. Maybe it’s worth reading after all?))
Absurdism doesn’t call for passivity. On the contrary, it proposes rebellion—not against the meaninglessness of the world, but against the despair it causes. Rebellion is a way to assert one’s freedom and dignity.
Camus’ quote: "I rebel—therefore I exist."
The parallels are definitely noticeable. And I like the popularization of such ideas. For example, "Jujutsu Kaisen" shows a similar story, albeit less radically. And even in the much-maligned ending of "Attack on Titan," there are traces of absurdism. I believe that, for me, this (in all the mentioned works) adds a certain vitality and positively influences unconscious processes after watching such works. I’m satisfied.
These, in my opinion, are the most interesting cases. I also see Makima as a reverse mother figure for Denji in Freudian terms, and Nietzschean ideas are present. But I don’t want to turn my reflection into an encyclopedia of other people’s quotes—I want to develop my own thoughts.
In the end, we have, in my opinion, a well-balanced mix of shonen and seinen. The story, alongside its hopelessness, immerses us in a world of absurd humor. The humor (specifically the jokes) truly reflects the spirit of Generation Z. It’s unique and may not appeal to everyone. Female breasts—is that supposed to be funny??? Anyway, that’s how it is.
Furthermore, as I’ve already mentioned, although the story doesn’t provide answers, it personally pushed me to search for them. As I wrote before starting the analysis, I denied Maslow’s hierarchy, but now I’ve changed my mind. I’m grappling with questions of self-realization, and "Chainsaw Man" definitely played a role in my search for answers. And now, brace yourselves: I believe "Chainsaw Man" is the "Neo-Neon Genesis Evangelion." The ideas of self-discovery and fulfilling one’s needs permeate both works. However, "Chainsaw Man" is adapted for a modern audience. It has a more accessible setting and plot for the unprepared viewer. But in any case, the ideas, as I see them, are similar.
If after reading this you feel like writing to me that "Evangelion" is only understandable to intellectuals, and I’m just an ordinary pleb consuming mass-market content, unworthy of sharing my thoughts on the internet, then, first of all, you’re right, and secondly, please read my review of "Evangelion." If in this article I’ve shown the depth of "Chainsaw Man," in my review of "Evangelion," I tried to bring it down from the pedestal that culture has placed it on.
Well, I probably have nothing more to say.
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