One glance at FMD Muramasa might be enough to set off alarm bells, and a further look into its tagline "This is not a story of heroes," might even be enough to have them ringing dangerously loud so as to protect your poor eyes from any further perceived edge it may contain. I'm writing this in part to assuage these concerns; not because Muramasa doesn't contain at least some element of what it appears to be on the surface, but because it is so much more than just that.

If you've ever consumed a piece of media concerning itself with any discussion around justice, its meaning, its applications, or how it might affect both people and the world, I think there is a solid chance you will enjoy Muramasa. It's characters all have very different ways of coping with the unflinchingly brutal world around them, and some of its best and midnight black moments are when it puts these mentalities under a microscope to see whether they hold up under its crushing gaze.

This isn't to say Muramasa is some fun-sucking, edge inducing black hole of pure anti-enjoyability, far from it. In fact, I'd go so far as to say a good majority of the time I spent with this cast I done so smirking, cracking into a silent chuckle, or outright uncontrolled laughter. There is such a diverse array of humour from the many wonderful persons of Muramasa, and Minato Kageaki is as much the perfect straight man to them as Araragi Koyomi is to the Monogatari series.

I'd like to assert, however, that these two seemingly separate pieces of tone or not simply that. Muramasa's ability to portray a sense of humour, wildly entertaining character interests, and combine them with its darkest and most engaging contemplations are not only appreciated; but utterly essential to its success in storytelling. No matter what these people have done, or will do, its how it reminded me of their capacity to engage in day to day banter or interests that allowed those more powerful moments their due, lest the aforementioned black hole actually come into being.

Narahara's in depth world of mecha battles and meticulously crafted sword fights is a disgustingly entertaining battlefield of never ending conflict. It's clear however, that it uses this as a platform to form a strong refutation of such things and many adjacent crimes. It's at times far too gratuitous with it attempts at bleakness, and I don't doubt that many people sensitive to such portrayals will be instantly aware that it is so. However, for anyone who knows themself to not fall into that category, I urge you to give this wild ride a shot.

I think the fact this story refuses to allow its cast any semblance of reprieve for their actions says a lot about its intent. The illusion of heroism reflected in the mirror for standing against a great threat is completely shattered by a constant and brutal condemnation of their deeds. Muramasa is so utterly unafraid to remind us what it thinks lies at the end of the path it shows, and its gut wrenchingly appropriate to see the faintest of lights it sparks unable to illuminate that path.

This certainly isn’t a story of heroes; not for anyone already on the path. What it desires is something so elusive that by the end we are still so far from it, maybe even more so than when we began—and that is what stuck with me the most after the credits rolled.

“Peace is the noblest of pursuits.”


Reviewed on Mar 09, 2022


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