What is the point of a hero?
Anticlimax in Chainsaw Man Part 2
Part 2 is garnering more and more criticism as it extends its excruciating middle portion towards the inevitable collapse. There are talks of Fujimoto losing the plot, skipping over important details, the story not making sense, Asa being flattened into a supporting character for Denji, and more.
To my mind, these criticisms center on the same thing: anticlimax.
The Falling Arc ends with the first major anticlimax of the entire Chainsaw Man series. That moment turned out to be a sendoff of many aspects of the series which had defined its identity in part one: the breakneck pacing, the grotesque monsters, the ultraviolence, the detailed rendering, and most significantly, the cycles of catharsis.
Part One was a face up rendition of the heroes journey: the cathartic cycle. This cycle was paralleled with the hedonistic cycle of consumerism. From the very origins of the series, Fujimoto was critiquing the heroic narrative by exploring a different perspective on the hero’s existence. In the lineage of Devil Man, Evangelion, Utena, etc. Fujimoto considers the harm that heroism does to the hero.
However, in part one, we don’t understand this dynamic until the final arcs of the series. The hero’s journey is played mostly straight, with exciting adventures, a lovable cast, a host of creepy monsters, despicable villains, cosmic fantasy. On the surface, this is normal Shonen Jump. The walls are closing in behind the scenes.
This is the mechanic behind the Makima turn. It is a reveal, but not a twist. We are well aware that Makima is not human, is suspicious, and has some malicious intent surrounding Denji. The reveal is what those intentions are, and what makes it so compelling is the nature of her intentions.
We learn that all the events of this story — the job, the romance, the organization, the friends, the family, the adventure — were being manipulated with the express purpose of destroying Denji. His cycle of catharsis was always leading him to his doom. It was made to destroy him. His tragic flaw is ignorance: he didn’t stop to think about what was going on.
Part 2 picks up on Denji in this same state. He is still chasing the cycle. He goes out, defeats the monster, everyone praises him. It’s great. However, we see the same lingering signs that something is off. The people he abandons in his fight against Cockroach. Corrupt government institutions using him as a popular spectacle.
But in the first Asa-focused section of the story, we the readers are also locked into the cycle. Asa follows the same journey — literally the same, from bat devil, to the eternity devil, to a final climactic battle where she faces her childhood trauma and arises an actualized hero. Or did she?
Because that isn’t what happened to Denji. The cycle of catharsis was not a journey of self discovery; it was a trap. A distraction. A cover for the underlying intentions of the state as embodied by Makima. Even the idea of Chainsaw Man as a hero was a part of the plot to destroy Denji’s life.
But with Asa, as we approach the apex of her story, right as she has asked Chainsaw Man to save her, and she herself is using her own powers to save him as well, overcoming her fear of the other to risk her own life, plummeting towards certain doom! How will they escape!
They don’t. They get eaten. And somehow Nayuta is there and she just saved them. ??????????????????????????????????????????
It’s like their powers didn’t even matter! What about all that character development? They just lose? And then it doesn’t even matter that they lost? Then what was the point?
What is the point of a hero?
Asa’s introduction ends with the series’s first anticlimax, but that will not be the last. In fact, it is only the beginning. Because for the rest of the series, it will be constant. Every single tension will be diffused. Every single horror will be dodged. Every build will break.
Let’s go down the list:
Denji is forbidden from being Chainsaw Man, and his identity is stolen. He isn’t Chainsaw Man anymore.
Denji thinks about rejecting Fumiko’s advances, but can’t.
It appears Fumiko and Denji will fight, but then they don’t.
Asa becomes a minor celebrity and cult figurehead, but we never see any of it.
It seems like Miri will be Denji’s friend, but he’s an insane cultist.
It seems like Miri and the other hybrids will go on a spree, but Quanxi stops them.
It seems like Denji, Nayuta, and Fumiko will have to fight a mob of monsters, but Quanxi saves them.
It seems like Yoru will fight Yoshida, but he runs away.
Denji fights and defeats the hybrids, but is attacked and captured by a random mob.
Nayuta is in danger, but we cut away.
Denji gets chopped into pieces, and is quickly put back together.
Quanxi appears again, defeats everyone, but immediately surrenders.
Asa’s time as a hero is explained away as a passing fad.
As a reader, I can’t lie, it is annoying. And aggravating. And it is so blatantly intentional that it pisses you off. Fujimoto is refusing to give catharsis. Even the climactic moment of Denji’s arc — facing down Barem in front of his burning home — is not catharsis. It is torture. More building trauma and tension. Never any satisfaction.
Basically, he’s narratively edging his audience. And face up telling you that this is what is going on too. He even does it as a gag during Fumiko’s introduction. He gives a little peek at the catharsis that he knows we all want to see, but he won’t do it. He can do it — he was doing it all through Asa’s development — but he is deciding not to, and showing you that he’s deciding. He’s playing with his cards face up, but folding every hand.
Asa’s celebrity being totally sidelined is by far the most controversial of these instances. Her introduction fully engages us in her hero’s journey — a true hero’s journey. She isn’t a hedonist like Denji; she has ideals. She is fighting to save people. She actualizes. She becomes a real hero of the city.
But we don’t see it. Instead, we leave her story and look at Denji, who explicitly can’t be a hero. And through Denji’s story, we see the other side. Asa’s heroism is Denji’s downfall. She is getting everything that he was after. We understand what Asa has by what Denji lacks.
Asa’s catharsis is hidden. Or rather, her heroic catharsis is hidden. We got to see her journey to becoming a hero — to taking Chainsaw Man’s place — but not what happens when she is living that life. The same kind of life Denji lived under Makima.
Denji had Makima rooting for Pochita, manipulating and deceiving him. Asa has Fami rooting for Yoru, manipulating and deceiving her. Makima made Denji a hero to manipulate the public. Fami made Asa a hero to manipulate the public.
So in some sense, there’s no need to show it because we’ve seen it all before. But you still could. And it would be fun. Everyone would like it. It’s fine to, right?
Right?
Running parallel to the anticlimax is a long winded critique of popular culture. Particularly fandom culture. That is to say, hero worship.
The members of the Church worship Chainsaw Man because he saved them. The media uses Chainsaw Man and Asa as distractions from the horrors of life under threat of devils. Fans of a certain idol are driven to stress and conspiracy by a scandal. Meanwhile, wars are breaking out, government facilities are being invaded, people are turning into monsters.
Their love of Chainsaw Man turns them into monsters.
Barem and Fumiko are a notable skewering of the real-world Chainsaw Man fanbase. Fujimoto roots his critique of hero stories in a critique of his own hero story. While it is a reckoning for his fans, it is more so a reckoning for himself and the impact that his story had on the world. What was the point of what he did? What did it accomplish?
As of writing, the story isn’t finished, so the ideas aren’t complete, but at least at this point (chapter 164) it doesn’t look good. We see Fumiko is lost in her sexual obsession, abusing her target. We see Barem is completely insane, overwhelmed by a glorification of violence. We see a vast mass of fans whose obsession is harnessed to turn them into mindless killers.
You cannot help but think about the Chainsaw Man fandom in the wake of the anime. Harrassing the series director, constant asinine opinions all over the internet, the discourse around MAPPA — not around Chainsaw Man at all. Egregiously horny art. Legitimately disturbing sexualization. Popular response focused on the action and violence, not on the meaning of the story.
Is this what he wanted? Is this what heroes inspire? Is this what happens when you give people catharsis?
Is this what heroes are?
So, for Asa, he doesn’t do it. He won’t do it. He won’t create a cycle of catharsis. He won’t make a heroic tragedy. Instead, he will divert, avoid, hide, pause, deny. When she follows the path, we look away. When we want the hero, we get nothing instead.
Fame — heroism — isn’t a triumph. It’s a flash in the pan. An illusion. A tool of distraction. A vector of misogyny — society. A corruption of the self. For the hero and the fans.
Denji’s long arc is the positive exploration of the negative space Asa’s story leaves. Look away from the hero at hand and look at the hero that was. Look at what it did to him, what it does to him. Think about what this story does to you. Think about what it does to the world.
We are done with the spectacle. We’ve left catharsis behind. We’re living beyond the high. So, what is there? What can there be? What other story can you tell? How do we relate, exist, outside of saved and savior? If the hero is a lie, who will save the world? Can the world be saved?
We’ll have to find out.
