How does one describe a journey?

This was the question that flashed through my mind when I came to the end of Gintama's final episode. It's a question that's haunted me every time I try to put my thoughts on this series into words. How the hell do I summarize the experience of watching Gintama into a single review? How do I describe this feeling, this slow ascension into paradise that was falling in love with the Odd Jobs crew and all their misadventures? How do I describe the dawning understanding of just how deeply this world was invested in me and wanted me to be invested in it in return? How do I describe the explosive sense of awe that broke open my perception of what this show was capable of on too many occasions to count? How do I describe the entirety of that experience, starting with the auspicious beginning of Crunchyroll fucking up the player and me having to wait a few more days than I’d hoped to even start the damn show, and ending six months and 367 episodes later with the realization that I'd just found my single favorite fictional property of all time? For as much as I love writing, the words can’t help but escape me here.

Well, perhaps it would be beneficial to take Julie Andrews’ advice and start at the beginning. It is, after all, a very good place to start.

Gintama is a story about people. More specifically, it's a long-running shonen series detailing an alternate-history Japan where instead of being colonized by foreign nations in the nineteenth century, Japan was colonized by aliens known as the Amanto. As the series begins, the ruling Amanto regime is making life pretty shitty for most people in the capital city of Edo. Humans are discriminated against, the power structures are all out of balance, and nobody seems to know how to make things better. And it's here that our protagonist enter the picture: Sakata Gintoki, a boorish former samurai who's taken to eking out a living doing odd jobs for the people in his community. He's lazy and ill-mannered and has no respect for the Amanto's so-called authority; he simply wants to live his life on his own terms. And he doesn't put up with bullshit from anyone, no matter how powerful or presitigous.

That spirit of determination- that "silver soul," as the show's name fittingly translates to- ends up drawing a couple of teenagers into his wake. First is Shimura Shinpachi, the straight-laced dojo student who's older sister runs their family dojo after their parents died. Second is Kagura, a rambunctious alien from the Yato clan who came to earth to experience a life of her own. Against his better judgement, Gintoki ends up taking them in, and they become the central trio the show revolves around. The show is primarily a comedy slice-of-life; most episodes revolve around throwing the characters into a new, bizarre situation and seeing the ridiculous antics that ensue. And rest assured, the comedy is goddamn fantastic. God-tier performances from a murder's row of the best voice actors in the business, completely unpredictable gags that run on a bonkers, making-this-shit-up-as-we-go logic that somehow always perfectly ties together, and winning comedic chemistry from pretty much the entire cast. A lot of the jokes spring from references to other anime, but the punchlines are specific and unique enough that you don't need to have seen the anime it's referencing to lose your shit laughing. I'd best describe it as Anime Deadpool, if that makes sense; it's irreverent and juvenile and constantly breaks the fourth wall, but the comedic sensibilities are all genuinely strong enough to justify the absurdity. There are some jokes from this show I will never forget.

Make no mistake, though, Gintama is far more than a simple historical sci-fi sitcom. In fact, this show has possibly the single most intricate, expansive plot I've ever seen. From the starting point of Gintoki, Shinpachi and Kagura, the show expands outward to slowly rope in more and more characters and factions, all of whom are both comedic gold mines in their own right and have some bigger part to play in the show's story and thematic tapestry. Watching Gintama is akin to watching someone set of the longest chain of dominoes in existence. Each new piece placed makes the world and characters richer, each new miniature arc further complicates the ongoing narrative, each new escalation of the stakes makes you that much more excited for what's going to happen next. And it does this CONSTANTLY. Almost every single episode, no matter how insignificant, offers something new for you to chew over. Whether it's a new set of characters interacting, a new wrinkle in ongoing subplots, a new storytelling trope being toyed with (There's a body-swap arc, a Star Wars parody arc, an arc where the characters fight over their rankings in a real-life popularity poll), or simply a new perspective on events that already occurred, Gintama's story is always moving forward. And with every step forward it takes, it only sucks you in deeper and deeper.

That intrigue of what was to come next hooked me right from the beginning. Sure, the absurd comedy was enjoyable enough on its face, but even from the very first episode, there was an underlying sense of something just over the horizon. Episodic plots touches on themes of colonialism, tradition, futurism, samurai honor, PTSD and regrets of a war lost, how to live fairly in an unfair system and how far one should go to fight back against that system. All fairly weighty concepts for what seemed, on the surface, to be a fairly simple show about a bunch of snarky dipshits chasing down panty burglars and getting their souls sucked out their anuses. For as innocuous as it starts, the underlying sense I got from the first few episodes was: “we can do more”. Not in a condescending way, but in that the show itself seemed to be promising that it still had a full deck of cards left to play. Through the subtle integration of those themes, through the welcome touches of sincerity in its narrative, and through the increasingly inspired comedy, Gintama set itself up to excite. It was built from the ground up with the promise that you were going to want to see what it did next, because it was going to do… something. You weren’t sure yet what that something was, but you were sure there was something.

What you never could have expected- what I never expected, at least- was that “something” would turn out to mean “everything”.

There’s a term in German called Gesamtkunstwerk, or “complete work”. It refers to a work of art that makes use of every tool at its disposal, seeking to incorporate as many elements into itself as possible. I can think of no work that better reflects that ethos than Gintama. Swiftly and surely, moment after dazzling moment, this show proved itself to be a show with no limits. Every time I thought it had exhausted its capacity to surprise me, it reached into its bag of holding and pulled out such an unexpected new flavor of story that I was forced to completely re-evaluate what I knew it to be capable of. From goofy, irreverent comedy, it proved itself capable of meaningful thematic explorations. From meaningful thematic explorations, it proved itself capable of a sincerely touching humanity. From a sincerely touching humanity, it proved itself capable of a mastery of the meta of its own place in popular culture that exceeds any other story I’ve seen. From a mastery of its own meta, it proved itself capable of awe-inspiring spectacle that left me cackling in shock. From awe-inspiring spectacle, it proved itself capable of wrenching character drama that left me sobbing in my seat time and time again. From wrenching character drama, it proved itself capable of bringing all those elements together into a synthesis of storytelling prowess, juggling so many disparate tones and styles and making them all feel part of the same massive, sprawling universe. And from there, it proved it could just as easily just do goofy, irreverent comedy again and still have it carry all the weight of its established internal mythology. Gintama breaks every barrier set before it time and time again, reaching to dizzying new heights of wonder with every phallic thrust.

But its mastery over storytelling extends even farther than just being able to tackle any genre at the top of its game: Gintama embraces the ethos of storytelling with more strength than pretty much any other work I’ve seen. It turns out, its judicious use of meta isn’t just for the sake of an additional streak of comedy running through its veins. Through its understanding of the meta of storytelling and its own perception and position in the grand media narrative, Gintama ends up being perhaps the most genuinely subversive work of art I’ve seen. There is no tired trope it won’t grind into the dust, no salient critique of its own reputation that it won’t incorporate into its narrative. It seeks not just to tell stories, but to tell stories that surprise and delight at every turn, that remind you of when you were less jaded and every new anime was like an undiscovered country that you couldn’t wait to explore. It seeks not just to practice storytelling, but to elevate it. It seeks to tear down the formulas and archetypes we’ve all grown so tired of and replace them with new, more honest idols, to inspire a new generation of storytellers to expand their horizons and stretch the limits on what they, themselves are capable of. I can’t tell you how many times I cheered at Gintama confidently striking down a tired sexist cliche that’s become all too prevalent in modern anime, acknowledging the cruelty of character archetypes we’ve taken for granted, granting its female characters agency and drive that put every other Shonen JUMP story I’ve seen to shame. I felt like I formed an actual connection with this show, like we were both equally excited to see what fresh, invigorating direction it would go next.

As cliche as it sounds, Gintama reminds me why I love storytelling so fucking much. It reminds me why fiction matters, and all the power it can have to change our lives for the better. And it realizes that love with what might actually the best ensemble cast in all of anime, full of eccentric, memorable personalities that all contribute something invaluable whenever they’re on screen. Every single character we meet feels real, with their own goals and motivations and personality quirks that inform their comedy and drama alike, that make you fall in love with them and the poignant humanity at their core. And as all of their relationships intertwine and intersect into an increasingly colossal spiderweb of connections, you come to realize that Gintama isn't just a story about one thing. It's a story about EVERYTHING. It's invested in every single character, from the mains to the most incidental of one-offs. It's invested in every single relationship these characters form. It's a tale not just of people, but of an entire goddamn civilization and each individual person that makes it up. It incorporates countless different elements of the human condition, countless different stories that speak to the endlessly varied experiences of life, and tells them all better than they've ever been told. And it tells them all together as one perfect synthesis of humanity and storytelling's capacity for good alike. Just as every last citizen of Edo stands together to fight off the chains of oppression and change their future for the better, Gintama itself stands against all the worst aspects of storytelling and revolutionizes them until they're capable of piercing the heavens once more.

And then there’s Kagura. God, what do I even say? Kagura is second only to Asuka rom Evangelion as my favorite fictional character of all time. Every single second she’s on screen is instantly the most delightful thing I’ll experience all day. I love her straightforward brashness. I love her ability to cut the bullshit and get to the emotional heart of any situation. I love how endlessly excited she gets for the smallest wonders of life. I love her struggle to rise beyond the shackles of her birth clan, and all the heartache and joy that struggle brings. I love how much she and Gintoki are like father and daughter, finding home with each other where they couldn’t before. I love how for all the incredible battles and massive status quo shakeups in this show, one of Gintama's all-time greatest episodes is a simple, near-wordless tale of Kagura enjoying her new umbrella in the rain. I love this girl more than words can properly express. Everything that is amazing about Gintama, is ten hundred times as amazing about her. And the fact that this show would probably still be in my top 3 even without her is a testament to just how fucking incredible this entire affair is.

I started writing this post with an admission that I wasn’t sure how to truly express the love I feel for this show. Here at the end, though, I think the picture’s become clear. Gintama is a glorious, undaunted, fist-pumping cheer for everything humanity is capable of. It’s our follies and triumphs, our absurdity and our sincerity, our pettiness and our magnanimity, our ability to laugh and cry and groan and smile and shout in equal measure, sometimes all at the same time. It’s an endlessly entertaining ride that constantly reveals itself to be capable of things you never could’ve imagined. It’s meaningful and momentous and massive. And it achieves all that while still being a mostly episodic series about dick jokes, absurd alien worlds, snarky one-liners, and a complete disregard for the fourth wall. Gintama a masterpiece beyond masterpieces, a triumph so impossibly grand you can barely believe it's real. But it's very real, and it's truly deserving of standing as my single favorite fictional property of all time.

If you haven't watched Gintama yet, consider this you call to do so. The final film is FINALLY coming out in 2021, adapting the last few chapters of the manga, so this is the perfect time to get started just in time for the big finish. Don't be intimidated by the length; I promise you, once you get going, you won't be able to put it down. The journey is long as hell, but every single step of the way is worth it. So come join me in running the most rewarding marathon you'll ever run. Come join me in experiencing the absolute pinnacle of this incredible medium.

All you have to do is take that first step.