"Sayonara, Space Cowboy!"

So Netflix discontinued Cowboy Bebop.

The obvious reaction would be me yelling “Good riddance!”, but I won’t. Not only would it be petty, but it’d ignore the effort that went into it. Art isn’t 100% good or bad 100% of the time, and even trashy art has merits. Since the show was tolerable, and I feel bad for being so negative, I think it’s only fair to discuss 7 aspects I thought were decent, great, or-in some cases-an improvement over the anime. Here goes:

1. The casting:

The cast in this show either looks the part, sounds the part, or both. Even the newcomers, like The Iron Mink, are a lot of fun to watch. You can forgive a lot when a cast is trying their darnedest, and this is no exception. Because everyone seems to care, and even when a portrayal doesn’t land (like Eden Perkins as Ed), it’s clear that the actor behind it is passionate and wants to do their best. That speaks volumes.

Take the main trio. John Chu, Mustafa Shakir and Daniella Pineda, who play Spike, Jet and Faye, not only fit their roles, but elevate them beyond the material. And they have excellent chemistry, such that you genuinely feel like they’d work together. It’s enough to ignore that this version of Faye is Mexican instead of Chinese, or that Jet’s now black (not that actually makes a difference). A premise lives or dies on your protagonists, and they understood their assignments.

But it extends to the supporting cast too. The stars of Big Shot are, arguably, the most-faithful recreation of the anime, right down to the cartoonish accents they put on. And there’s plenty of diverse casting that makes this world feel lived-in. Even the aforementioned Perkins, who shows up briefly as Radical Ed, is doing their best with the material, and they also look the part. So while the show may be “bad”, you can’t blame anyone for not trying.

2. The aesthetics:

On the subject of pitch-perfect, the general aesthetic is also excellent. Netflix brought on the anime’s director, Shinichirō Watanabe, as a creative consultant, and you can tell. The general vibe has been translated to a teat, with the space cruisers looking and sounding as good as ever. Even the medicine and technology, which were important in the anime, were ported over with no hiccups, and in some ways expanded on. Again, that’s impressive.

It goes further than that, though. The original composer, Yoko Kanno, has returned, and she hasn’t missed a beat since 1998. She even, on occasion, brings new material, thanks to the episodes being twice as long. We don’t hear all of it, because the writing never lets us, but when we do…it’s great. I especially like that Julia has her own solo, something missing from the anime.

As a final note, the call backs look excellent. Are they tacked-on? Yes. Do they fall into the “have your cake and eat it too” category of fan-service? Also yes. But they’re recreated faithfully, which is hard to do when transitioning mediums.

3. Julia:

One character I think was improved on completely, right up until the finale, was Julia. See, Julia in the anime was…a plot point. She never had much to her outside of being Spike’s past fling, and her death in Episode 26, while unfortunate, held little weight because of that. It’s a shame because every other female character felt real, thanks to head writer Keiko Nobumoto lending her feminine touch, so it was jarring. I know she wasn’t important outside of the 5 story-centric episodes, but couldn’t she have been more interesting?

Well, the Netflix adaptation’s show-runners had that on their minds too. Instead of being one-note, this time Julia has depth. She’s vulnerable, she has aspirations, she’s stuck in an abusive marriage, she even plots to thwart Vicious’s goals of overtaking The Syndicate. And while some of her lines are atrocious, Elena Satine makes them work anyway. She’s easily the best part of the subplot with Vicious!

Unfortunately, there’s her conclusion. And yes, I stand by her “Girl Boss” turn being a slap in the face, even if shooting Vicious is so satisfying. Still, as with everything else, Satine sells it. That’s not easy to do, but she does. It almost makes me wish I could’ve seen more post-Season 1.

4. The premise of Episode 7:

Episode 7, minus the Vicious subplot, is easily the best. It’s not anime-levels of good, it doesn’t even compare to the anime’s worst episode, but the show-runners and writers clearly put the most effort into it. I think it’s because they merged anime Faye’s two most-important character episodes into something new, all the while staying true to their essence. This is probably the only episode I’d consider passable. I only wish the other episodes were…

For those unaware, Episode 7 reinterprets “My Funny Valentine” and “Speak Like a Child”. Those two episodes were crucial to Faye’s character development, and they’re two of my favourites. In Netflix’s version, they’re merged and tweaked. Here, Faye’s lover becomes her foster mother, and they bounce off each other really well. You genuinely believe that Faye was adopted by this woman before being abandoned, and that she’s now only agreeing to not turn her in because she needs her.

I also like how despite the ending being a nearly shot-for-shot recreation, it feels earned. I especially like the one change to the payoff, Faye finding her childhood recording stored on a VHS, as it makes more sense than the Betamax scavenger hunt Spike and Jet went on in the anime. That never fully made sense to me, feeling forced and contrived, so I’m glad Netflix’s adaptation fixed that. It’s a nice update. Hooray for small victories!

5. Faye rescuing Jet and Spike in the finale:

In another example of a change that works in its favour, we have this moment in Episode 10. Faye not chasing after Spike when he goes to confront Vicious in the anime always bothered me. I mean, she had feelings for him, and him abandoning her was hurtful, so why not? It’d not only give her an awesome moment, but it might’ve even saved Spike’s life. But I’m 23 years late on that one…

…Is what I would’ve said, until now. Because, again, the show-runners had that on their minds with this change. Could it have been foreshadowed better? Maybe. Is the line, “Welcome to the ouch, motherfuckers!” cringe-worthy? Absolutely, and I’d smack whoever thought it was acceptable. But it works.

It actually works too well, honestly. Because now I can’t go back and not picture what could’ve been. Faye saving the day isn’t only nice fanfic, it’s something I think was lacking in the anime. It’s not like Faye hadn’t done it in other episodes (see “Mad Pierrot le Fou”), so why not here? How did the Netflix series outdo the anime on that front?

6. Kimmy:

Kimmy’s a Netflix inclusion. She wasn’t a character in the anime. In fact, it was never suggested that Jet had fostered a child in the anime! He had a girlfriend who broke up with him, but the closest he got to being a “dad” was Meifa in “Boogie Woogie Feng Shui”. And that’s regarded by fans to be its worst episode.

Nevertheless, I like Kimmy. She not only adds to Jet’s character, giving him personal stakes, but the two have genuine chemistry. You feel like they want to be together, yet can’t. It’s sad, too. And that’s why it works.

I’ve heard that Kimmy’s a Cassie clone from the Ant-Man films, complete with a similar relationship to her father. I see it, but do I care? Not really. Because, to quote an old adage, “there’s nothing new under the Sun”. If the anime remixed classic film genres and made it work, then why can’t the Netflix show do the same with a character dynamic?

7. The hallway fight in Episode 9:

Finally, I want to give a shout-out to this set piece in Episode 9. The premise is that Spike has gone to a rival cartel’s headquarters to kill everyone and prevent an all-out war. The scene is several minutes long, brutal and really well-choreographed. And best of all? It’s done in one take.

I love it! Like with Kimmy, this was Netflix-only. It’s also heavily-inspired by Oldboy. But if it means getting to seeing Spike flex his action muscles, then does it matter? Remember, “there’s nothing new under the Sun”.

I want to zone-in on how difficult it must’ve been to film. Remember, one takes are exactly as they sound: they’re done in one take. A lot of preparation goes in to making them work, including factoring in room for mistakes. It’s even harder with a fight scene, which contains plenty of movement. And even knowing all of that, this was still pulled off swimmingly. If that’s not proof that someone cared while making this show, I don’t know what is.

So there you go: 7 aspects of Netflix’s Cowboy Bebop that I liked. It’s too bad the show’s cancelled, as I’m sure it could’ve expanded with another season. Oh well!