This review may contain spoilers
The Beauty of Shadow and Light
******************** I'm reviewing Seasons 1 & 2 here ************************
This series is a masterful allegory about life based on Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” which is, itself, an allegory as well. However, this series take things to a whole different level.
Paramahansa Yogananda referred to life as like a Cosmic Motion Picture, in which we are the writers, actors, and even the directors in our own cosmic movie. Shakespeare equated life to a stage play saying, “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts.”
In today’s world, one might easily equate life to a video game. You play and play until you’ve mastered the game in order to “clear it.” As you can see, the world of “delusion” is created with opposites. Light and dark, joy and sorrow, love and hate. Why? Because in order to experience light, there must be darkness. If all there was is light, then it would be impossible to experience it.
Virtually every master has said the same thing, but perhaps in different words; don’t take life so seriously. Learn to enjoy it. Don’t get so caught up in the “bad” things that you forget that none of this is real.
Arisu (Alice) is a young man who finds himself transported into another world, or another reality. Everyone has suddenly vanished except for himself and his two best friends. Tokyo appears empty of nearly all of its inhabitants. He quickly learns that he must play and clear games in order to survive. Failure to participate in a game within a certain time means automatic death. Clearing a game grants the victor a visa, in which the participant is given three days of a reprieve before another game must be played.
All games are based upon the classic playing cards with each suit and number designating the type of game (teamwork, deathmatch, betrayal, etc.) and its difficulty level (2, 3, 4, etc.).
The games alone are fascinating as we see participants stripped away of their morals and idealism in order to simply survive. We see people quickly betraying others. We see people so distraught by the pain and anguish that they simply give up, preferring death to any more “suffering.” And, of course, we see those rare few, that despite being knocked down and tempted with giving up, strive to continue in order to find out what this whole thing is all about. Arisu is such a person.
Arisu soon meets Usagi (Rabbit). At first, they form an uneasy alliance, and soon a friendship develops. Arisu is the idealist. He’s the person, despite making mistakes, refuses to give up. He’s a young man who had absolutely no direction in his life. He spent his days playing video games and hanging out with his two best friends. His father and brother are clearly disappointed in him for lounging around the apartment all day and doing nothing. However, Arisu is not without asking questions to the big picture. What is life? Why are we here? And as the game begins taking the lives of his friends and comrades, he even asks deeper questions such as, “Why am I alive?” Anyone who has suffered tremendous pain or suffering has asked this question.
Usagi represents the escape; the person who can only remember the pain of the “real world” and has no desire to return to it. What’s the point of “waking up” if all there is is more suffering? To Arisu’s surprise, she confesses that she prefers the “game” world, despite the horrors of mass murdering, betrayal, and constant threat of death at every turn. If you think this is pessimistic and having a quitter’s mindset, ask yourself why there are so many people in the world who prefer pain and suffering to the unknown? To the possibility that there just might be a way out? In short, Usagi is the person who prefers her comfort zone; her security and has no reason to stray beyond it.
Arisu and Usagi seem to find a community (church or religion) called “The Beach” in which people seem to be enjoying themselves in relative safety. However, not everything is as it seems. You must “follow the rules” or be designated a “traitor” and possibly killed. It’s lead by people who set up these arbitrary rules on how to live. Many of its inhabitants seek only refuge or pleasure. Others believe they can find a way to beat the game. The Beach represents the dangers of allowing anyone else to tell you how to live your life. It represents the dangers of giving power to the blind; to those who have no idea how “get out.” And because all religions are self-serving, the Beach is soon destroyed from within.
Season 2 sees Arisu and Usagi attempting to clear the most difficult games: the face cards. Some of the games employ the use of logic, trust, or simply mere survival (in the case of the King of Spades). Ironically, the last challenge to overcome is from the Queen of Hearts herself. She represents false love/hope that asks you to simply give in to a game which mirrors Lucifer’s own ideal; that it’s better to be a king in hell than a servant in heaven. However, before her demise, the Queen of Hearts smiles and gives Arisu a heartfelt reminder: life is choice. There is no “right” or “wrong” choice as there are always consequences no matter what you choose.
The final episode is a pure work of metaphysical art. It attempts to give an explanation where no explanation will suffice. It demonstrates that an attempt to understand the world through intellect alone will always lead to oblivion. We get so caught up in the world that we forget that it’s just an illusion; a creation of our own making. And perhaps that is why the most powerful message, and reminder, is the last shot of the season as a table with playing cards are swept away—all except for one which sits proudly in the middle of the table endeavoring for us to laugh at the joy and absurdity of it all: the Joker.
To the master, the universe is a playground. Much like this series depicts, it’s like entering a cosmic amusement park. To the unawakened, the dangers and pleasures seem real and they go round and round until they’ve had enough; to where they feel compelled to try and “wake up.” To the awakened, it’s simply to be enjoyed, both “good” and “evil” because in truth, neither one exists. They are mere fabrications on the cosmic motion picture of shadow and light.
Performances across the board are first-rate. We find ourselves getting attached to one or more characters, wondering who will “survive” and who will “die.” We see humanity’s beauty on full display, from acts of love and bravery to acts of insanity, brutality, and cowardice. The series makes no apologies for its depictions, nor should it. Stripped away, with nowhere to hide, we see people at their highest and their lowest.
This isn’t an easy series to watch either, as the violence is very extreme, so if you’re a bit skittish, you may want to avoid this series; unless you can understand that this is nothing more than a game. It isn’t real. Paramahansa Yogananda took some nuns to see a violent western. The nun sitting next to him covered her face with her hands because the violence was too much for her. He gently pulled her arms down and said, “Watch. Don’t get so caught up in it. None of it’s real.”
This is a series that could easily be the topic of discussion in any university class from psychology or philosophy to religious studies or any class having to do with human behavior. Yes, it is that profound, and by the time the series ends, you just might find yourself laughing along with the Joker, realizing that you were caught up in something and then realizing that none of it was real. So, enjoy!
This series is a masterful allegory about life based on Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” which is, itself, an allegory as well. However, this series take things to a whole different level.
Paramahansa Yogananda referred to life as like a Cosmic Motion Picture, in which we are the writers, actors, and even the directors in our own cosmic movie. Shakespeare equated life to a stage play saying, “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts.”
In today’s world, one might easily equate life to a video game. You play and play until you’ve mastered the game in order to “clear it.” As you can see, the world of “delusion” is created with opposites. Light and dark, joy and sorrow, love and hate. Why? Because in order to experience light, there must be darkness. If all there was is light, then it would be impossible to experience it.
Virtually every master has said the same thing, but perhaps in different words; don’t take life so seriously. Learn to enjoy it. Don’t get so caught up in the “bad” things that you forget that none of this is real.
Arisu (Alice) is a young man who finds himself transported into another world, or another reality. Everyone has suddenly vanished except for himself and his two best friends. Tokyo appears empty of nearly all of its inhabitants. He quickly learns that he must play and clear games in order to survive. Failure to participate in a game within a certain time means automatic death. Clearing a game grants the victor a visa, in which the participant is given three days of a reprieve before another game must be played.
All games are based upon the classic playing cards with each suit and number designating the type of game (teamwork, deathmatch, betrayal, etc.) and its difficulty level (2, 3, 4, etc.).
The games alone are fascinating as we see participants stripped away of their morals and idealism in order to simply survive. We see people quickly betraying others. We see people so distraught by the pain and anguish that they simply give up, preferring death to any more “suffering.” And, of course, we see those rare few, that despite being knocked down and tempted with giving up, strive to continue in order to find out what this whole thing is all about. Arisu is such a person.
Arisu soon meets Usagi (Rabbit). At first, they form an uneasy alliance, and soon a friendship develops. Arisu is the idealist. He’s the person, despite making mistakes, refuses to give up. He’s a young man who had absolutely no direction in his life. He spent his days playing video games and hanging out with his two best friends. His father and brother are clearly disappointed in him for lounging around the apartment all day and doing nothing. However, Arisu is not without asking questions to the big picture. What is life? Why are we here? And as the game begins taking the lives of his friends and comrades, he even asks deeper questions such as, “Why am I alive?” Anyone who has suffered tremendous pain or suffering has asked this question.
Usagi represents the escape; the person who can only remember the pain of the “real world” and has no desire to return to it. What’s the point of “waking up” if all there is is more suffering? To Arisu’s surprise, she confesses that she prefers the “game” world, despite the horrors of mass murdering, betrayal, and constant threat of death at every turn. If you think this is pessimistic and having a quitter’s mindset, ask yourself why there are so many people in the world who prefer pain and suffering to the unknown? To the possibility that there just might be a way out? In short, Usagi is the person who prefers her comfort zone; her security and has no reason to stray beyond it.
Arisu and Usagi seem to find a community (church or religion) called “The Beach” in which people seem to be enjoying themselves in relative safety. However, not everything is as it seems. You must “follow the rules” or be designated a “traitor” and possibly killed. It’s lead by people who set up these arbitrary rules on how to live. Many of its inhabitants seek only refuge or pleasure. Others believe they can find a way to beat the game. The Beach represents the dangers of allowing anyone else to tell you how to live your life. It represents the dangers of giving power to the blind; to those who have no idea how “get out.” And because all religions are self-serving, the Beach is soon destroyed from within.
Season 2 sees Arisu and Usagi attempting to clear the most difficult games: the face cards. Some of the games employ the use of logic, trust, or simply mere survival (in the case of the King of Spades). Ironically, the last challenge to overcome is from the Queen of Hearts herself. She represents false love/hope that asks you to simply give in to a game which mirrors Lucifer’s own ideal; that it’s better to be a king in hell than a servant in heaven. However, before her demise, the Queen of Hearts smiles and gives Arisu a heartfelt reminder: life is choice. There is no “right” or “wrong” choice as there are always consequences no matter what you choose.
The final episode is a pure work of metaphysical art. It attempts to give an explanation where no explanation will suffice. It demonstrates that an attempt to understand the world through intellect alone will always lead to oblivion. We get so caught up in the world that we forget that it’s just an illusion; a creation of our own making. And perhaps that is why the most powerful message, and reminder, is the last shot of the season as a table with playing cards are swept away—all except for one which sits proudly in the middle of the table endeavoring for us to laugh at the joy and absurdity of it all: the Joker.
To the master, the universe is a playground. Much like this series depicts, it’s like entering a cosmic amusement park. To the unawakened, the dangers and pleasures seem real and they go round and round until they’ve had enough; to where they feel compelled to try and “wake up.” To the awakened, it’s simply to be enjoyed, both “good” and “evil” because in truth, neither one exists. They are mere fabrications on the cosmic motion picture of shadow and light.
Performances across the board are first-rate. We find ourselves getting attached to one or more characters, wondering who will “survive” and who will “die.” We see humanity’s beauty on full display, from acts of love and bravery to acts of insanity, brutality, and cowardice. The series makes no apologies for its depictions, nor should it. Stripped away, with nowhere to hide, we see people at their highest and their lowest.
This isn’t an easy series to watch either, as the violence is very extreme, so if you’re a bit skittish, you may want to avoid this series; unless you can understand that this is nothing more than a game. It isn’t real. Paramahansa Yogananda took some nuns to see a violent western. The nun sitting next to him covered her face with her hands because the violence was too much for her. He gently pulled her arms down and said, “Watch. Don’t get so caught up in it. None of it’s real.”
This is a series that could easily be the topic of discussion in any university class from psychology or philosophy to religious studies or any class having to do with human behavior. Yes, it is that profound, and by the time the series ends, you just might find yourself laughing along with the Joker, realizing that you were caught up in something and then realizing that none of it was real. So, enjoy!
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