After more than a decade since its initial release, Attack on Titan has concluded. I can finally say, with wholehearted enthusiasm instead of daring hope, that it stands tall as a masterpiece of storytelling.
It has cemented itself as one of my favourite stories, not just because of its riveting plot, complex characters, unique setting or incredible foreshadowing, but because of the way the story is told. That's its true strength, I think, and the reason I consider it on par with giants like Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, Westworld and Arcane.
That does not mean it is for everyone. Its mediums alone will undoubtedly and unfortunately stop most from ever experiencing it. For others it will be too bleak, too violent, too relentless or simply too different from what they are used to, and that's okay. No story is for everyone, especially not one as gut-wrenching and brutal as Attack on Titan. Its mature features were key in its initial rise to fame and paired expertly with the fast pacing, excellent characters and a uniquely evolving plot. I'll briefly touch on all of those, but I'm getting ahead of myself here. First, I need to address those of you scratching your heads and wondering 'what the hell is Attack on Titan'?
For those looking exclusively for what makes it Fantastic Fantasy, skip to the subheading about the Art of Revelation.
What is Attack on Titan?
To most, it is an anime—a Japanese-styled animated TV series—but it was originally created as a manga—Japanese comic book/graphic novel—by Hajime Isayama. It begins with a haunting premise: humanity, driven nearly to extinction by giant, man-eating titans, are forced to hide behind massive walls. In the very first episode, tragedy strikes as that same wall is broken and our main characters are reminded how fragile their existence is.
The story that follows delves deep into the human condition and spirit, exploring constantly juxtaposed themes like hatred and revenge vs love and forgiveness, oppression vs freedom, fear vs courage, despair vs hope, etc. It never shies away from showing how cruel the world can be, but also never does so without reason. The world is cruel, but also beautiful. And it manages to do this in short bursts of thrilling action that grip the viewer by their collar and all but force them to view 'just one more episode'. The number of times this show had my heart racing and my jaw hanging by the end of an episode is almost ridiculous. The first viewing is at times so gripping that we don't notice how truly well-constructed the entire story is. Everything that happens on screen is there for a reason. Barely a scene goes by without building stakes, foreshadowing, developing a character or advancing the plot. That, I think any writer will agree, is extremely difficult, especially in a fantastical setting with plenty of world-building to be done.
There is a lot to be said about the whole production and I could probably spend hours writing about the art and animation, the music (check out this suite and you'll know what I mean) and the voice actors, but I've promised to be brief and concise, so let's jump to the point. Why do I consider Attack on Titan 'fantastic fantasy'? I've already praised its pacing, plot, setting and characters, and all of are part of the answer. But the thing that truely sets it apart to me is its mastery of something I'll call the Art of Revelation.
The Art of Revelation
At a fundamental level, telling a story is about sharing information. Whether told by one person to another or by writing a book, it is essentially just presenting your audience with one piece of information at a time. Piece by piece, their understanding grows, and if told right, their interest can be held long enough for the story to be told from beginning to end. The question is not only which pieces of information to tell (as those are what makes up the story itself), but when to share, and equally important, when to purposefully withhold.
I'll refrain from getting too technical on this, but think of it this way: word by word, we give our audience a sentence. Sentence by sentence we give them a paragraph, a page or scene, a chapter or episode. Every word is a choice and every sentence a dozen choices. A full story, then, is literally tens or hundreds of thousands of times where the storyteller chooses which piece of information to give the audience. The vast majority of these are chosen without conscious thought, of course; we have told and experienced countless stories before and instinctively use recipes likely to succeed. But many are conscious, and rightfully so.
Telling a great story does not happen on instinct, but by careful planning or meticulous revision of these choices. Understanding how to do this a skill, and the creator of Attack on Titan is a master of at it.
When the storyteller is careful about these choices, they can weave an intricate story that continues to evolve and change in a meaningful way. This is the Art of Revelation (as in a surprising fact or realization, not the New Testament), and much of it revolves around choosing when to share and when to withhold. Yes, this art includes setting up big twists and turns that shake the ground beneath our story and alters its direction. Yes, it includes jaw-dropping moments like the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones or Darth Vader telling Luke "I am your father". But perhaps even more important, it includes the smaller, moment-to-moment reveals that both builds toward something new and keeps the audience engaged.
In Attack on Titan, the story is expertly crafted to ensure that each revelation feels earned, impactful and always contributing to a larger, cohesive puzzle. We, the audience, are left as clueless as the characters and constantly in search for answers, and when we get them, new questions immediately take their place to keep the mystery alive.
One of the series many strengths lie in its ability to balance long-term story arcs with immediate, episodic surprises. Without spoiling anything, some of the major ones involves the gradual unveiling of the world beyond the walls, the history of humanity and the mystery of the titans. While chasing these mysteries are primary drivers of the narrative, the character-driven revelations is the glue that holds everything together.
Their backstories, motivations and struggles are woven into the story in a way that not only adds layers to their personalities and builds connection to the audience, but alters the course of the narrative itself. These smaller revelations are what makes the major ones turn out so compelling.
Additionally, Attack on Titan shines in its thematic revelations. Its initial straightforward premise (humanity vs. titans) is added upon continuously, as are its themes. But even as the story zooms out and becomes increasingly complicated both narratively and emotionally, it never loses itself, which is a primary danger. The story evolves from a simple yet beautiful painting to the Sistine Chapel ceiling by choosing and withhold certain pieces of information from the start.
I could go on for pages and pages, but I've cutting it close on the promise of "brief and concise", and I think you get my point. If not, I highly recommend watching it for yourself, even if anime is not your cup of tea (it isn't for me either, truth be told).
Attack on Titan stands as a stellar example of the Art of Revelation in storytelling. Isayama's mastery of knowing when to share and when to withhold information is what makes this story so good. It is the evolution of this story that I love the most. The expansion. The fact that everything we know and think we know is continuously reshaped as new information is revealed. The minor details, expression and remarks that turn out to be major reflections of self but are hidden to us at the time. And for those who's only seen/read it once and love foreshadowing: watch it again.
Conclusion
For the past ten years, each episode of the acclaimed show left me yearning for more. I was hooked from the beginning, after watching the first episodes in company of an equally enamored friend. We indulged, watching episode after episode and finding ourselves pausing to carefully scrutinize the little slides that initially annoyed me. I wasn't a big fan of anime (nor am I today, truth be told), but was captivated by the intriguing premise, the dynamic action, the unexpected twists and the richly imagined world. Every new season or half-season pulled me back with its pinpoint storytelling and riveting plot. It always left me with a sense of admiration and the feeling that I was witnessing something special.
Stories that make us feel this way are few and far between, and they almost inevitably either lose themselves or their audience before wrapping up. The most infamous example is, of course, Game of Thrones. Stories as expansive and intricate as Attack on Titan and Game of Thrones have hundreds of pitfalls to avoid if they want to stick the landing. As you can probably surmise, this long-awaited ending not only met but exceeded my expectations. And so, for the first time since being drawn into its dramatic narrative, I can finally—and thankfully—say: I no longer crave more of Attack on Titan.
Well, I do, but only because I want to watch it again. The story has concluded, and the ending was strong enough that its legacy will endure. Attack on Titan remains a bastion of storytelling in the realm of fantasy, anime and television. - Thank you, Isayama, for a telling this gripping and beautiful story.
Comments are always welcome, whether as feedback on the post or simply to share your thoughts.
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