I say that not because it was “flawless”. Not only have I shared my problems with the writing before, but it also had an uncomfortable subplot that reeked of transphobia in one of its episodes. Rather, I say it because the show was lightning in a bottle, a snapshot of an era that only worked because of the right circumstances. Recreating that, aside from being disrespectful, would be a recipe for failure. But since corporations can’t say no, it got remade.
To be fair, a live-action remake had been in the works for a while. Like I said on Infinite Rainy Day, there’d been talks of one since the mid-2000’s, when Keanu Reeves was rumoured to star as Spike Spiegel. It went through delays, development hell, retools and studio changes, until it finally made its way to Netflix. So now that we have a live-action Cowboy Bebop, how is it? Is it worth the binge?
In order to answer those questions, I think we need asterisks. Because the show’s quality is lacklustre, but the final episode changes the reason why. I could easily write a rant on the finale alone, and put a pin in that, but since it’s unfair to the other 9 episodes, I should discuss my thoughts in general. Be prepared for spoilers.
Cowboy Bebop is a 10-episode series that shuffles sequences and storylines from the 1998 classic. It still follows a band of bounty hunters, or “cowboys”, and their hijinks in space, but it expands on Spike’s Syndicate past and makes it a running thread. An odd choice, especially when it focuses on the show’s antagonist, Vicious, and tries fleshing him out more. It also has a subplot about Jet’s daughter, who I’m pretty sure was invented for the Netflix series.
Right away, it’s pretty obvious what the show’s biggest problem is: it feels like two different shows vying for attention. The first is a drama about three misfits who struggle to balance their jobs with their personal lives. And this isn’t bad material! Some of it’d be, dare I say, fantastic in a different show. The struggle Jet has with his daughter, for example, is easily the best subplot!
Unfortunately, there’s a second show in here, and it’s where the experience routinely trips over its own feet. See, this is a live-action Cowboy Bebop, and it makes no secret of that. Every episode’s jam-packed with references and call backs to the anime, and it’s excessive. Each of the episodes has plenty of “remember this?” moments, except “updated” for 2021. They don’t even feel organic, instead checking off ingredients in the ‘Memberberry Soup recipe.
I feel bad pointing this out. An adaptation should be judged as its own entity. But Cowboy Bebop wants to have its cake and eat it too. So I really have no choice here, and that includes the references that make you nostalgic for the anime.
You know what doesn’t help? The writing. The original anime was notorious, even in Otaku circles, for subtlety and restraint, thanks to Keiko Nobumoto. Nobumoto, who also penned my favourite anime series ever, was a brilliant writer, and her characters often said a lot with relatively little. It was a decision partly inspired by time restraints, but it worked. (It actually might’ve worked a little too well...)
Unfortunately, there’s a second show in here, and it’s where the experience routinely trips over its own feet. See, this is a live-action Cowboy Bebop, and it makes no secret of that. Every episode’s jam-packed with references and call backs to the anime, and it’s excessive. Each of the episodes has plenty of “remember this?” moments, except “updated” for 2021. They don’t even feel organic, instead checking off ingredients in the ‘Memberberry Soup recipe.
I feel bad pointing this out. An adaptation should be judged as its own entity. But Cowboy Bebop wants to have its cake and eat it too. So I really have no choice here, and that includes the references that make you nostalgic for the anime.
You know what doesn’t help? The writing. The original anime was notorious, even in Otaku circles, for subtlety and restraint, thanks to Keiko Nobumoto. Nobumoto, who also penned my favourite anime series ever, was a brilliant writer, and her characters often said a lot with relatively little. It was a decision partly inspired by time restraints, but it worked. (It actually might’ve worked a little too well...)
So how does the Netflix series fill its time? With padding. Aside from extra content, it also has lots of fluffy dialogue. Some of the conversations are cringeworthy, while others belong in a different show altogether. It doesn’t help that the characters swear excessively, such that it’d be too much even for Quentin Tarantino. That’s not good, and it takes you out of the experience.
This all sounds bad, but I gave it the benefit of the doubt because there was something there. Then the last episode happened, and everything changed. The show went from mediocre with occasional greatness, to flat-out embarrassing. I could stand the dialogue, the call backs and the episode padding. But I drew the line at butchering a character in service of “updating” the show.
In an interview, the show-runner mentioned that he wanted to be respectful while also giving a new spin. I can see that, and I get it, but that last episode really misses the mark. The way it resolves the relationship between Vicious, Spike and Julia, which is crucial to story, ruins what’d been established prior. Not to mention, it contradicts Julia’s arc.
It starts fine enough: Julia, who’s been placed under confinement, convinces one of the female Syndicate members to let her reunite with Spike. Spike, having been recently rescued by Faye (in a rare improvement over the anime), heads back to the church he was held hostage in to confront Vicious. He climbs to the top tower, and the two fight in a moment that hearkens back to their confrontations from the anime. Everything plays out beat-for-beat, until Julia shoots Vicious (in another rare improvement). She then asks why Spike never looked for her in the years he was presumed dead, and he has no satisfying answer.
This all sounds bad, but I gave it the benefit of the doubt because there was something there. Then the last episode happened, and everything changed. The show went from mediocre with occasional greatness, to flat-out embarrassing. I could stand the dialogue, the call backs and the episode padding. But I drew the line at butchering a character in service of “updating” the show.
In an interview, the show-runner mentioned that he wanted to be respectful while also giving a new spin. I can see that, and I get it, but that last episode really misses the mark. The way it resolves the relationship between Vicious, Spike and Julia, which is crucial to story, ruins what’d been established prior. Not to mention, it contradicts Julia’s arc.
It starts fine enough: Julia, who’s been placed under confinement, convinces one of the female Syndicate members to let her reunite with Spike. Spike, having been recently rescued by Faye (in a rare improvement over the anime), heads back to the church he was held hostage in to confront Vicious. He climbs to the top tower, and the two fight in a moment that hearkens back to their confrontations from the anime. Everything plays out beat-for-beat, until Julia shoots Vicious (in another rare improvement). She then asks why Spike never looked for her in the years he was presumed dead, and he has no satisfying answer.
Then the show goes all “Girl Boss”, with Julia knocking out Vicious, sending Spike through the window and claiming her place as head of The Syndicate. This makes absolutely no sense, and it’s actively frustrating. Yes, her reclaiming agency is great. Yes, she deserves a happy ending. And yes, drawing a blank at Vicious is a nice callback to an earlier episode. But Julia’s journey was about breaking free of The Syndicate. She’d never expressed interest in joining the organization that abused her before, so why now?
Seriously, I’d pull a “Tell me you don’t understand the original series, without telling me you don’t understand the original series” line, but what good would a meme do?
To top it off, the show throws in one last insult by having a drunk and downtrodden Spike meeting a hyperactive Radical Edward. And it doesn’t work. Bless Eden Perkins for trying, but the original show’s Ed, for all her quirks, knew when to show restraint. Ed was the reason I got into Cowboy Bebop in the first place, having been in a bad place in 2008 mentally and needing something to, in a weird way, keep me grounded. It’s baffling how this adaptation got Ed so wrong, especially when everyone else was done reasonably well.
But that’s the problem with this adaptation: it doesn’t understand itself. When it’s not actively pissing you off, it’s superficially reminding you what made ShinichirÅ Watanabe and Keiko Nobumoto’s work great to begin with. Which is a shame, as there’s potential for excellence here. The casting’s great, the chemistry’s excellent, the art and set designs are top-notch, Yoko Kanno returns with her music selections, and it manages to be more LGBTQ-friendly than the anime. Everything’s great on the surface, but the writing and story choices are baffling. That’s not a good sign for something that was stalled for over a decade.
Seriously, I’d pull a “Tell me you don’t understand the original series, without telling me you don’t understand the original series” line, but what good would a meme do?
To top it off, the show throws in one last insult by having a drunk and downtrodden Spike meeting a hyperactive Radical Edward. And it doesn’t work. Bless Eden Perkins for trying, but the original show’s Ed, for all her quirks, knew when to show restraint. Ed was the reason I got into Cowboy Bebop in the first place, having been in a bad place in 2008 mentally and needing something to, in a weird way, keep me grounded. It’s baffling how this adaptation got Ed so wrong, especially when everyone else was done reasonably well.
But that’s the problem with this adaptation: it doesn’t understand itself. When it’s not actively pissing you off, it’s superficially reminding you what made ShinichirÅ Watanabe and Keiko Nobumoto’s work great to begin with. Which is a shame, as there’s potential for excellence here. The casting’s great, the chemistry’s excellent, the art and set designs are top-notch, Yoko Kanno returns with her music selections, and it manages to be more LGBTQ-friendly than the anime. Everything’s great on the surface, but the writing and story choices are baffling. That’s not a good sign for something that was stalled for over a decade.
Ultimately, Cowboy Bebop left me sad and tired. It made me miss the anime. And it made me doubt whether the anime was even good. But most-importantly, it reminded me why animation deserves more credit. Because the anime’s so good that even people who normally hate anime like it! I can’t say that here.
So yes, avoid this adaptation. Or, better yet, watch the anime! It’s currently on Netflix, and you’ll have an infinitely better time. That much I guarantee!
So yes, avoid this adaptation. Or, better yet, watch the anime! It’s currently on Netflix, and you’ll have an infinitely better time. That much I guarantee!
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