Concrete Revolutio: Choujin Gensou - The Last Song

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Concrete Revolutio is one of the most underrated shows out there. It's a project that its creators clearly poured their hearts into. It's full of social commentary and critiques of post-war Japan, and it's satisfying to piece the story together while figuring out what it all means. So naturally, I've been very excited for the second season of this show. Did it meet my expectations and deliver a great product? Yes, but that's a qualified yes.

Story: 8/10
Concrete Revolutio's most powerful aspect has always been its narrative, and that rings true for The Last Song as ... well. The narrative picks up a few years after the events of season 1's final episode, and things have changed for the worst. Jiro, now an outcast, seeks to find justice, truth, and meaning in the contentious world of superhumans he lives in.

While the first season used its narrative to craft a huge world full of complex characters and situations, the second season takes a more introspective approach. Each episode focuses primarily on Jiro and how he chooses to handle the superhuman-centric events he finds himself in. His former friends criticize his ideals and his actions. He goes from having a strong sense of what is right to deciding he doesn't know anything and is a monster. He is broken down and brought back up, but he still can't find a strong sense of justice to cling to. Jiro is a tragic hero through and through, and his transformation is exciting, but sometimes frustrating, as he can come off as wavering and unpredictable. But I think that's the point. Nothing is black or white in this world, and Jiro exemplifies this.

The overarching narrative has an unusual format. The first two episodes move the story forward and explain the biggest events of the timeskip between the seasons. However, the next string of 4 or 5 episodes are essentially one-offs, episodes that don't contribute to the overarching plot. I was told that many of these episodes were written by guest writers, which would explain their lack of connections to the rest of the show. These one-offs aren't a bad thing for the most part. Each one tests Jiro's character in a different way and leads to his sense of justice further being challenged.

My biggest gripes with the story have to do with the ending. Concluding a complex work like Concrete must be difficult, but I don't feel they did as good of a job as they could. I was satisfied with the ending messages and motifs at the very end, but the road they took to get there during the final episode was confusing and unsatisfying.

Art & Sound: 9/10
Everything checks out here. The artwork is just as vibrant and unique as the first season's, with no noticeable lapses in animation quality.
The Last Song's opening is simply phenomenal. It's got everything I could want out of an opening - hype-inducing visuals, a line or two spoken purely in broken English, and a dubstep breakdown featuring characters dancing (Dimension W's OP also checks every one of these boxes). The ED is good enough, although the first season's is a bit better to me.

Characters: 7/10
In my review of the first season, I mentioned that there are a ton of characters in Concrete. However, this season focuses heavily on Jiro. Unfortunately, this means that the rest of the characters suffer a bit. While some characters are further fleshed out (mostly the ones allied to Jiro, like Earth-chan and Raito), the majority of the cast doesn't get much room to grow. The characters of Emi and Kikko suffered the most in this regard. Kikko spends nearly all of the Last Song futzing around without accomplishing much. And Emi --poor Emi-- stays mysterious and underdeveloped like she did in the first season. She plays a much more active role in the finale, but if that was meant to be her development, then I'm sorry Bones, but it wasn't enough.

Enjoyment: 9/10
One of the main criticisms directed towards the first season of Concrete was that its story was convoluted and hard to follow. This was due to the episodes being set non-chronologically, and it was up to the watcher to piece the narrative's timeline together. If you fall in this school of thought, then you'll be happy to know that The Last Song has a linear timeline! Although there are gaps of time between episodes, they all play out in chronological order, so it's significantly easier to follow the story this time around. Events in previous episodes are still referenced frequently, but as long as you were paying attention, you shouldn't get too confused.

Overall: 8+/10
The Last Song has been a wild ride, and for the most part it's been very good. It's caused me to think about the societal standards of Japan and the United States, past and present, and the fact that it inspires critical thinking places it above many, many shows.
However, I am a reviewer who tends to linger on the ending of a show. As such, I can't say that this second season of Concrete Revolutio was as good as its first. The end of its story didn't blow me away like the first season, and I felt unsatisfied with how most of the ing cast was handled.
But don't get me wrong. Concrete Revolutio: The Last Song is still a great show very much worth your time. Even if you didn't enjoy the first season, I'd give this one a try and I guarantee that you'll be hooked. In addition, I'd recommend everyone who watches Concrete to think critically about it. Think about the events that occur in each episode, and what they are supposed to parallel in real life. Think about how the senses of truth and justice they discuss in the show impact individuals and society. And if you're feeling up to it, read up and talk to people about this show. There are multiple blogs that do great writeups on Concrete episodes, and multiple communities willing to have thoughtful discussions on what everything means. If you can watch the show alongside a friend and talk about each episode together, even better.

Concrete Revolutio and The Last Song are definitely worth your time and I strongly recommend them to any one who enjoys their shows having value and meaning beyond the direct plot.

Carving out a niche appeal for itself in the market, Concrete Revolutio stands as one of the more unique entries in the ever-expanding superhero genre. Unlike its contemporaries, it doesn't just glorify superheroes while vilifying certain ideals deemed unethical by most societies but chooses to question the very fabric of justice and what it means to those with the power to implement their version of it. With superhero related content being produced ad nauseam, Concrete's unfamiliar approach help subside the impending feeling of 'superhero fatigue', by allowing the subject matter to be seen through a fresh perspective.

By treating superhumans and other supernatural entities as ... placeholders for the man vs man parable, Concrete is able to delve into several topics that draw from real world issues involving ethical dispute, social critique of post-war Japan and civil rights in general. This isn't to say Concrete's position is set on uncharted waters; the X-men franchise has long adopted this stance before this show's inception. But what Concrete does hold over titles of this similar vein is the approach it opts out to take. It presents us with multifaceted ideas regarding justice and what it truly means to be a superhero. This is displayed through the course of actions taken on a micro and macro-scale. For a broader overview, it's the policies implemented by the overseeing bodies of the Superhuman Bureau, which, since the events of season one's climax, has been growing increasingly totalitarian towards their ideas of "managing" the superhumans. This directly dictates the actions taken on a micro-scale, which brings us back to Jiro Hitoyoshi and the storyline that finally resolved his reasoning behind abandoning the Bureau in season one. This time, he isn't alone, as Raito Shiba also goes turncoat with him, due to his idea of justice not coinciding with the Bureau's newly adopted forceful approach. With a seemingly 'concrete' (excuse the pun) foundation set forth by season one to build off of, it appeared that season two should have seen smoother sailing. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

This final installment to Concrete's story is a mixed bag. On one hand they resolve a lot of plot lines that was left up in the air from the 1st season, as well as peeling back the layers of its initial concept to allow for more think-pieces to flourish; but on the other hand its parent studio's infamy shines through more than ever, with contrived and often undermined narrative threads that have become the bread and butter of most of Bones's efforts as of late. For every praiseworthy endeavor achieved by this follow-up, there's an equally headache-inducing add-on that didn't work in its favor.

For one, if you were invested into Jiro's character arc then this 2nd season would satisfy you, as the show did a commendable job in fulfilling that end of the bargain (even in the cross-hairs of the sporadic narrative it's a part of) . However, if you were invested in more than just that, and was curious as to how some major plot points were going to be resolved, then you'll find yourself running into many roadblocks to your destination (sometimes containing no destination at all). It quickly became apparent that the creators wanted to cover certain story beats but just didn't know how to get there, which resulted in several events being retconned in order to achieve the end goal that was already set in stone. It became a show that offered one ultimatum: either you follow Jiro's character arc and negate everything else around it, or you take it all in and find yourself perplexed at the forced narrative choices the show took to reach that intended mark.

Jiro's revelation is like a double edge sword, it becomes the biggest highlight and as well as crux that keeps the title from elevating any higher than the concept would allow. On one hand, it brings his personal arc full-circle, allowing for a sense of finality to his tale, but on the other, the revelations that serve Jiro's story indirectly dilutes the storyline that came up to that point. It's like an M. Night Shyamalan plot twist, great as a spectacle to gawk at, but contrived when you retrospectively go over the story by order of events. It made an already messy plot even more muddled. And where my previous stance defended the show's writing as simply being harder to follow than usual but not inherently bad, I can no longer in good conscious defend the show any further. Forced retconning will never be something I advocate for. This new stance isn't limited to the story either, as these issues also stemmed into the character department as well.

In my review for season one, I stated "These are characters who's definitive personality traits are only as interesting as their superpowers. They're better defined by what they can do than who they are." When I wrote that, I did so with the hope that with the continuation of this show, I could discuss their growth as individuals. Since the 1st season began in medias res and had finally resolved the case of Jiro's betrayal, I was hoping that the follow-up season would have more room to fill in the personality of the main cast that was neglected up to that point. Sadly the statement I made regarding their personality in my first review still carries over in describing them here. Outside of Raito Shiba, no one else is given the limelight to allow for further introspection. They're very paper thin by the time all the storylines intermix into the final act. All they have going for them are personality quirks, and with a subject matter being used as a way to traverse different ideals of ethics and justice, it was a wasted effort. There's good to be found with these characters, but the show never brought it out with the time it unjustly denied them to flourish.

But despite these blemishes, there are still things here worth praising. One of which is the idea revolving around what it means to be a superhero. Even with the distinction, the governing bodies make towards the difference between humans and superhumans, there is never any generalized statements to categorize superheroes in specific.They're always referred to as superhumans or beasts but rarely is that extended to the common of super"hero/villains". Nowhere is this clearer than with Jiro's personal beliefs. In episode 7, during a conversation with someone, Jiro was asked whether he was a superhuman, to which he replied "No, I'm just a human that looks up to superhumans... For me, superhumans are those that can do what no human can do."

This simple, yet brilliant exchange explains the psyche of Jiro better than most shows are capable of attempting. He identifies superhumans not by ability but by intent, and despite technically being a superhuman by standard definition, he himself doesn't cast himself in that light. It's unattainable to him, something he could desperately seek after but could never truly obtain. There's so much weight behind these words, and by extension, so much weight behind Jiro's strife. So when the show finally reveals its hand in regards to Jiro's backstory, it's a poignant one.

This way of viewing what true superhumans are in a world filled to the brim with them adds a new layer to the show's ideas up to this point.

Another area in which Concrete excelled was undoubtedly the show's audiovisual front. Bones brings their A-game once again, delivering the same wall-to-wall color and comic book inspired stippling (halftone) effects. Regardless of how messy the script became at times, Bones never fails to impress on a visual front. The opening song "Wareru Doukoku by ZAQ was also a step up, possibly outpacing the first depending on your taste in music. Mixing EDM with pop-rock, it hightailed the viewer into every episode, getting you pumped for the events to follow. The ending also held its own fairly well, making the sound mixing and visual direction a complete package.

Enjoyment: 6/10

Despite the issues that impeded on my enjoyment of the series, I was still glad I stuck with Concrete. It lost my interest at times, and I often dismissed its decisions, but despite everything I was still satisfied with the overall experience. It may be a title I hesitate to recommend to others but did enough that I would encourage giving it a chance if someone was interested in starting it.

Overall: 5/10

With everything finally on the table, did Concrete Revolutio fully deliver on the early promise it demonstrated? Well not entirely. While it brought closure to some things, the revelations it made to push certain agendas forward often felt like spur of the moment solutions to a problem far out of the creators' hands. Many intriguing parts were simply cut prematurely, stunting the outcome of many of season one's build up. In the end, the show suffered from being overambitious. It shot for the stars and drifted off course. Had it been revised, or even extended further, the outcome could have been more satisfactory. Even with that in mind, the moments where Concrete shined through it did so in spectacular fashion. It may have just been glimpses of what could have been, but they were great qualities nonetheless. Concrete felt like a ion project from all those involved. It didn't come off as something concerned about profit first but instead wanted to display its ideas for the audience to consume and ponder over. It may not be high up on my suggestion list but for that "art first, profit later" mindset, I say it's a title worth keeping on your radar.

(This review has been adapted from my blog/reddit thread. Spoilers ahead!)

For the first season of Concrete Revolutio, I talked about Superman and how lame of a hero he is. I even went so far as to say that the (and I quote myself) “kryptonite will not be taking down Concrete anytime soon.”

Concrete Revolutio: Choujin Gensou – The Last Song proved me wrong – and not about Superman.

STORY

Last Song resumes roughly where the first season left off. “Roughly” because the ordering of events is still purposely jumbled. Regardless, Jiro, Kikko, and the Superhuman Bureau are doing their best to fight for justice – in whatever way ... they know how.

When looking back on the first season, it impressed with its setup. The complex themes on morality, race, and control. The different arcs for each of its characters. This premise in general. It stood as a very strong, very interesting anime, proving that the “super” in “superhuman” applied to itself, too.

Unfortunately, Last Song forgets about that prefix.

Before getting into why this second season goes loses, it’s worth pointing out what it does right.

Once again, its main theme on justice – and its ties to those more nuanced ideas like morals and racism and control – are in full force. One episode focuses on how, despite all the justice and good and sacrifices of centuries past, the current wars and fighting made it worthless. Another episode focuses on losing a loved one and what that drives people to do. A different one focuses on a superhuman soldier with PTSD who does not (cannot) ever get the justice he deserves.

The different callbacks are also nice. Seeing Campe emerge from her chrysalis to resolve Human-man’s conflict or watching as the immortal family sneak away are tiny references to earlier material. But their inclusion can give added weight or tie-ins to the events at hand – sometimes both.

And some cool moments exist throughout its run. Learning that Jiro actually killed Rainbow Knight (by accident) and that a possible parallel world (this world) exists give the narrative some legs to run with.

So, what goes wrong?

The best way to understand second season’s missteps is by comparing it to its prequel. The first season had the benefit of being, well, a first season. All it realistically had to do was set everything up so that, when it ed the story baton, it did so with gusto and grace. Which it did.

More than this, though, the first season had a goal. It may not have seemed that way, what with the nonchronological plotline and the episodic material, but it clearly wanted to get somewhere: Jiro’s defection from the Superhuman Bureau.

The second season does not have the luxury of setting up; it must carry that baton to the finish line. Meaning, what’s left is its goal which it must reach. And that’s the problem: It has no goal.

Another way to put it is that Last Song is aimless. The show never makes it clear what it wants to do, and, as a result, this season feels like it either isn’t going anywhere or is going nowhere.

For instance, the show once again chooses an episodic format to showcase its ideas. In the first three episodes, it features (separately) a space cowboy, an ex-band-member-turned-giant, and a forest goddess. Some pretty interesting material. But, already, the anime isn’t making it clear where it wants to go.

Yet, for some reason, the anime carries this mindset for the next four episodes. So, for the first seven episodes of this eleven-episode season, it’s just one singular set of events after another. Sure, there are minute consequences that exist between them (mostly due to the jumbled ordering), but that end goal is nowhere in sight.

These episodes themselves also introduce a new problem. One of the driving forces is how split everybody is. The Superhuman Bureau versus the ad people versus the police versus Jiro. Sadly, a lot of the conflicts boil down to let’s-not-help-Jiro-but-actually-let’s-help-him scenarios. Not so much cat and mouse but guy-with-a-pet-mouse-that-misbehaves and mouse. It leads to repetition and a huge waste of potential as these separate sides never seem to fully clash.

With only four episodes left, Last Song realizes it needs that to happen, and so it finally has a goal to run to. But it’s already too late. For while the pacing in the first two-thirds is rather slow, the pacing in this last one-third is way too fast, leading to a heap of writing troubles.

Jiro’s all-important past is revealed by a magic helmet through a dream sequence.

Master Ultima’s death comes out of nowhere after he hasn’t been around for ages.

The reveal of the main nemesis being like Jiro in origin comes off as quite convenient.

Smaller details also add up. Jaguar saying out loud Jiro’s own words about Fuurouta reminding him of justice came off as sloppy. Fuurouta revealing to Kikko the secret about her contained demon powers, meant as more of a joke, ends up as a convenient and inconsequential remark.

Even something like the show toning down the nonchronological format hurts it. The jumbled contents made it more interesting due to the back-and-forth nature. This format also ed its convoluted themes. In this sequel, it understandably must (more or less) stay in the near-present. But that inherently reduces its intrigue levels.

The show’s final note (relevant word here) reveals why the sequel is named so. Like a song sung and heard everywhere, ed on from generation to generation, superhumans will live on. Heeding the call of those who need help. While the song metaphor feels a bit tacked on, it’s a nice message that ties to salvage what was left of this sprained story.

ANIMATION

Not too much else to say differently about Last Song’s art and animation this time around. A small step down but nothing obtuse.

The character designs don’t flip-flop as often since the past isn’t depicted to the same extent as before, but what is given is still strong. Kikko’s longer hair and bigger bust make it easy to spot how much she has grown up. Koma’s cloak, multi-color eyes, and cat ears prove that the show still knows how to come up with an interesting (and cute) look. And Jaguar’s later new getup retains his original self while outwardly declaring his “betrayal.”

Despite reducing the comic-book braille flourish, artistic techniques persist. A wide color palette, shadowing, and the comedic reactions help to spice up the visuals once more.

As for actual animation, it does seem to falter somewhat. It’s not too noticeable throughout the run, but some scenes are subpar, like the ski jump. Plus, there are not as many major fights, and everyone likes to do a bit more talking and standing around than usual.

Still, the anime can argue otherwise: Raito gets an impressive scene again, Kikko uses her magic all the time, and the final battle has its fair share of fire, explosions, and duels.

CHARACTERS

Last Song commits its biggest blunder with its cast.

It’s such a surprising statement to make because the show set them all up so well. Kikko’s unrequited love and the maturity she would need to gain. Emi’s mysterious background. Fuurouta’s role as mediator for everyone. Jaguar’s time-travel and time-stopping abilities. Magotake and his relationship with his son Jiro. Raito’s descent from police detective to superhuman enforcer.

Except for Jiro, however, the anime mishandles that baton even more.

Kikko is the oddest. She essentially becomes a non-character, showing up to each scene and saying little more than “Meteortail!” A lot. Where she once had a purpose – as Jiro’s potential love interest and as a meaningful character to the story at large – the anime treats her as little more than an extra.

The anime does try, though. Ullr (her tiny companion) mentions in an offhand remark that Kikko no longer has a claim as queen due to her feelings and loss of her powers. But it’s literally a one-time bit of information, so its impact is minimal.

The best it could do was a small moment in episode five. Kikko chats with Jiro. About her thoughts on the different feuding factions and their own conflict. While she understands all that, she outright says she stays in the Superhuman Bureau just so she can see Jiro more. Which is great. It’s a warped mindset, but her devout feelings make her more interesting.

Unfortunately, thanks to Jiro’s promise to stay away from her, and the anime refusing to nurture her relationships with the others more, Last Song wastes this moment completely.

Emi goes through something similar. The anime (from last season) already refrained from revealing much about her. In this season, it does so again. Big mistake. It makes her pleas near the end, her “romantic” connection to Jiro, both moot and missing emotion.

The audience gets a little bit in the form of some flashbacks, but it is so miniscule that it may as well have never existed to begin with.

Fuurouta, later on, runs the bar that welcomes all superhumans. But, for most of the second season, he does not contribute much beyond changing into his different animals and forms when needed.

Magotake, like Kikko, barely interacts with Jiro, leaving the link between “father” and “son” missing many a chain.

Even Jaguar has troubles. Last Song makes him relevant only right at the end when he messes with time. Before the last episode (and realistically the last ten minutes), he does almost nothing important or interesting. Again, that’s the show’s fault. His time-controlling pocket-watch was stolen from him at some point, so his relevance, like Kikko’s, goes down the drain.

Raito, at the very least, has his fall depicted. Yet he, too, barely impacts the show, challenging neither Jiro nor the others to any noticeable extent.

All these characters follow a similar trend: not receiving attention. Last Song, rather than expounding on its cast, chose instead to focus on the mini-arc dealings and the characters therein. In other words, the show is plot driven (again). But, since that failed, its characters fail even harder.

Arguably, the only character that can even be considered worthwhile is Jiro. As he tries to uphold his ideals on justice, helping superhumans here and there regardless of them being “good” or “bad,” he slowly figures out that his methods are not helping as much as he would like.

Throughout each episode, he either pushes back against the Superhuman Bureau or does his best to aid those in need. While he tends to be a broken record like Kikko and the others, his words are at least meaningful. Questioning his own sense of justice, declaring the ambiguity of “right” and “wrong,” and trying to understand their messed-up world gives him strength as a character since he actually receives attention from the show in the form of thematic exploration.

Simultaneously, the audience comes to know more about Jiro’s past. How he came to tame the beast within and his origin story of sorts. It’s not a lot, but, compared to everyone else this season, it’s a welcome sight.

His “betrayal” at the end is a cool idea due to its full-circle feeling in relation to Rainbow Knight. Furthermore, his proclamation that he is superhuman, and not a beast, reflects how much he has grown through his experiences.

Granted, the whole “superhumans have an evil being paired with them” idea is odd since it never felt like the main focus of the show. Still, its implication – that his statement applies to people as well – gives it more ground. At the minimum, his death, which instills hope for those in the future, ends his character on a poetic (albeit unsatisfactory) note.

Altogether, Jiro is the only one who even tried to complete the race.

SOUND

Like with the art and the animation, not too much else can be said that hasn’t already about the sound that Last Song employs.

Especially in regards to the original soundtrack and the voice-acting performances. Once again, they perform their job without doing anything exceptional. The OST’s guitar and techno choices fit with the melancholic and chaotic events, and the VA’s do not have any stand-out moments as they reprise their roles.

Except perhaps Kaito Ishikawa as Jiro. Again, nothing noteworthy, but his emotional voice, screams, and cries did not go unnoticed.

That leaves the opening track and the ending track.

The OP starts off fevered, then glides into a more reserved state. Then it lets loose, the vocalist and the beat picking up intensity with the dubstep quick to follow. The speed and the catchiness in the second half further the piece. It takes a couple of listens, but, afterwards, it stands as a solid track.

The ED is not just the best part of the music but also the best part of all of Last Song. The guitar and the drums jam well together, but it’s the vocalist’s syllabic singing and the foot-tapping beat that make it a cool track. Plus, that sense of structure fits well with the theme of control that permeates the show.

ENJOYMENT

I rated the first season of this series rather highly because it set itself up for greatness. If nothing else, it created something thoughtful and interesting.

The second season doesn’t have that. The characters were already not that memorable, but, coupled with them hardly receiving any focus this time around, it makes them a wash. The narrative devolves into a too-episodic chore that isn’t enthralling no matter how many giant robots are included. The romance angle ends up unused and lame.

To me, the most interesting episode was episode four: “Devila and Devilo.” More specifically, the final sequence was one that made me think.

Devilo is known for using mundane wording to persuade his audience. So, when he starts to ramble about life and beauty and the universe, it made me question whether his words were true or if they just rang hollow. Not just through some clever meta game the show was playing but for myself as well.

Other than that, though, the anime didn’t give me much else – besides disappointment.

Concrete Revolutio: Choujin Gensou – The Last Song concludes in a less-than-ideal state. The aimless story, the lack of character exploration, and the slight downgrade in visuals suppress the anime’s larger idea on justice and the rocking ED. Simply put, this season becomes the series’ own kryptonite.

SUMMARY

Story: Fine, strong themes once more on justice, morality, and race, but the episodic format and the awkward writing choices leave it lagging

Animation: Good, nice character designs, varied artistic direction, and okay actual animation

Characters: Bad, all except Jiro receive very little attention, leading to their low impact and even lower worthwhileness

Sound: Fine, okay OP, good ED, okay OST, and okay VA performances

Enjoyment: Bad, a disappointing second half to say the least

Final Score: 4/10