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A review by thisotherbookaccount
Pluto: Urasawa x Tezuka, Vol. 8 by Osamu Tezuka, Naoki Urasawa, Takashi Nagasaki
2.0
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[I’ve decided to post the reviews of the final three books at the same time]
Here we are at the end of Urasawa’s beloved manga series, and I am sorry to say that, overall, it’s a major disappointment. Instead of going out on a high, the conclusion of this ‘acclaimed’ series is more akin to a hot, wet fart in an enclosed bathroom. It smells and, worse, it LINGERS.
Every issue that I had with the series is compounded here. Urasawa is to plot threads the way a three-year-old is to shoelaces. Instead of a logical, satisfying ending, plots are left dangling or ignored altogether. Even the ones he bothers with end up in dead knots. There’s literally a scene about 20 pages from the end where a group of characters ask each other, “What is Bora? What is Pluto? Who is Abdullah? WHAT IS HAPPENING?”
The fuck I know, dear manga characters. We are just as confused. It is as if Urasawa himself didn’t know what the hell he was writing. It’s like reaching the final act in the Harry Potter series, and our main characters asking, “Wait, which one of you is He Who Shall Not Be Named again?” It’s that bad.
Urasawa then adds an end-of-the-world plot presumably written by the same three-year-old who had trouble with his laces. As if an evil-hate-filled robot wasn’t enough, there’s somehow an ancient volcano about to explode because reasons.
Overall, the manga series is a beautiful, hot mess. The art is consistently great throughout, but the story and characters just do not hold up. It disguises its simplicity with fake intellectualism, and the action is nothing more exciting than seeing a child bang plastic action figures together on the bedroom floor.
Don’t believe what manga fans tell you about this series. Skip it.
[I’ve decided to post the reviews of the final three books at the same time]
Here we are at the end of Urasawa’s beloved manga series, and I am sorry to say that, overall, it’s a major disappointment. Instead of going out on a high, the conclusion of this ‘acclaimed’ series is more akin to a hot, wet fart in an enclosed bathroom. It smells and, worse, it LINGERS.
Every issue that I had with the series is compounded here. Urasawa is to plot threads the way a three-year-old is to shoelaces. Instead of a logical, satisfying ending, plots are left dangling or ignored altogether. Even the ones he bothers with end up in dead knots. There’s literally a scene about 20 pages from the end where a group of characters ask each other, “What is Bora? What is Pluto? Who is Abdullah? WHAT IS HAPPENING?”
The fuck I know, dear manga characters. We are just as confused. It is as if Urasawa himself didn’t know what the hell he was writing. It’s like reaching the final act in the Harry Potter series, and our main characters asking, “Wait, which one of you is He Who Shall Not Be Named again?” It’s that bad.
Urasawa then adds an end-of-the-world plot presumably written by the same three-year-old who had trouble with his laces. As if an evil-hate-filled robot wasn’t enough, there’s somehow an ancient volcano about to explode because reasons.
Overall, the manga series is a beautiful, hot mess. The art is consistently great throughout, but the story and characters just do not hold up. It disguises its simplicity with fake intellectualism, and the action is nothing more exciting than seeing a child bang plastic action figures together on the bedroom floor.
Don’t believe what manga fans tell you about this series. Skip it.