You are going to carry that weight: Revisiting Cowboy Bebop [Editorial]

 

Men always seem to think about their past before they die, as though they were frantically searching for proof that they truly lived. ~ Jet Black

 
     As promised last week, I am back with my blog post about the popular anime series from the late 1990s: Cowboy Bebop. Well, better late than never. Cowboy Bebop was part of my introduction into the realm of anime over 10 years ago, and I have been meaning to write about this show for a long time. However, as in the case of GTO, I avoided doing it because this show is such an all-time classic.
     To be honest, I regard Cowboy Bebop together with Outlaw Star and Trigun as the Holy Trinity of the animated space western genre. However, all three series exhibit radically idiosyncratic styles. I mentioned in my special review of Outlaw Star that I have some issues with Cowboy Bebop, and today allow me to explain what I meant. Whereas Outlaw Star (and Trigun) seem very modernist and traditional with their approach towards the concept of a hero and his journey (the monomyth), Cowboy Bebop, in contrast, appears to be a deeply postmodernist show. It is, in fact, a disjointed, freewheeling story about a too-cool-for-school bounty hunter who is unable to escape his own past.

     First things first, so let’s briefly summarise what the show is about. It was originally conceived by Shinichiro Watanabe and the creative staff led by him in Sunrise animation studio. Bebop presents us with a not-so-distant future, namely the year 2071 in which Earth is almost uninhabitable due to a hyperspace gateway incident. As a result, humanity has colonised the rest of the Solar System, which unfortunately led to skyrocketing crime rates. In consequence, the Inter Solar System Police authorised the profession of bounty hunters (aka Cowboys) who catch criminals alive and return them to law enforcement for financial reward. Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, Faye Valentine, Ed, and Ein accidentally form the bounty hunting crew of a ship called Bebop.
     It is difficult for me to explain why, but I felt the need recently to revisit Cowboy Bebop. I tried to do this a few years ago (during the pandemic), but I tuned out after a couple of episodes, bitterly labelling the show as dated (that’s how hardwired I am in my unconditional love for Outlaw Star). However, now, as a person who is over 30, I looked at the show in a different light.
     I really do not want to nitpick Cowboy Bebop, so let me say that after so many years, this anime is still great fun. I nearly forgot how good some of the episodes were, and the light-hearted storylines really brought a smile to my face, such as Stray Dog Strut, Gateway Shuffle, Toys in the Attic, Bohemian Rhapsody, and Wild Horses. This is exactly the type of cheerful, escapist entertainment I needed.

     As a result, Cowboy Bebop really excels in the fun department and effortlessly hits the same strides as Outlaw Star and Trigun. However, what makes it truly different is the way in which the show handles the serious stuff.
     Evidently, we have stand alone episodes about the tragedies of side characters Spike encounters/has to fight, as in the case of Asteroid Blues, Sympathy for the Devil, Heavy Metal Queen, and Waltz for Venus. Spike confronts these characters in the fashion of 1980s action drama heroes (see Magnum PI) and these interactions, and their unfortunate fates, make him grow as a protagonist.

     However, the whole seriousness concerning Spike’s personal past is just so stereotypical that it devours the enjoyment of Cowboy Bebop for me. Yes, I get it. Spike is a cool guy, so he was a criminal in the past, and he was in love, but the villain character of Vicious (to my mind) is way too exaggerated. Indeed, he has a cool introduction in the opera house, but it is all there is to his depth: showmanship. The show never made me care about Vicious. I can understand he was a caricature of John Woo’s bromance-charged villains, but things did get lost in translation, which ultimately renders Spike’s story arc flat for me.
     Nevertheless, Spike’s past is not the only concern of the show. Jet Black faces his own demons in Ganymede Elegy and Black Dog Serenade, and so does Faye Valentine in My Funny Valentine and Speak Like a Child. The way the supporting characters have to deal with their trauma is done perfectly. Time and time again, they try to avoid it, escape it, but the past eventually catches up with them and forces them to evaluate their identity. Jet and Faye really “carry that weight.”
     Still again, what about Spike? He confronts Vicious head on three times in the show, and this ultimately leads to his death. Perhaps the character truly needed this kind of bleak retribution (he wanted to know if he is alive), but I as an audience member did not. Spike choses death instead of carrying his weight (isn’t it cutting corners?), and this ultimately makes the show a downer, especially if you are a 30/40-something adult dealing with responsibilities of life.

     So, here we are. Instead of a typical review, I blurted out my chain of incoherent thoughts about Cowboy Bebop. Thank you for reading, and if you have your own opinions about the series, feel free to share them. Hopefully, next week, I will try to discuss something else. In the meantime, Life is But a Dream and See You Space Cowboys.

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