Statistics
All Anime Stats Anime Stats
Days: 136.3
Mean Score:
7.17
- Watching189
- Completed490
- On-Hold8
- Dropped58
- Plan to Watch35
- Total Entries780
- Rewatched0
- Episodes8,141
All Manga Stats Manga Stats
Days: 16.7
Mean Score:
7.96
- Total Entries68
- Reread0
- Chapters3,001
- Volumes305
All Comments (36) Comments
Attack on Titan’s ending wasn’t for everyone, but that doesn’t erase years of layered storytelling, moral tension, and authentic character dynamics. The character interactions felt real because they had time to develop, exploring complex themes like freedom, morality, and identity with true depth. The story was consistent in its pacing and thematic buildup, even if the ending was divisive. Edgerunners, by contrast, started strong but fell into a flashy, trope-heavy ending that didn’t add anything meaningful to the cyberpunk genre.
As for Death Note and Evangelion, dismissing them as trash completely ignores their impact. Death Note may have dipped in intensity after L’s death, but it remained a top-tier thriller with a compelling cat-and-mouse dynamic. The story kept its internal logic intact, and the power struggle between Light and Near felt like a natural progression, even if it didn’t have the same punch as the earlier arcs. Evangelion, meanwhile, didn’t just reshape the mecha genre—it introduced and deepened tropes like the tsundere and explored character psychology and existential themes in ways anime hadn’t before. Its approach to character trauma, identity, and self-worth resonated deeply with viewers and inspired countless series that came after.
Now, I can enjoy any show or genre if it’s coherent and consistent, but Edgerunners lacked that entirely. It leaned heavily on the ‘hero doomed by ambition’ trope without adding depth or purpose, making David’s journey feel more like style over substance. Take, for example, the lack of a real antagonist. In most impactful cyberpunk stories, the antagonist serves as a reflection or challenge to the protagonist’s values and goals, creating tension and meaning. Edgerunners missed this, leaving David’s journey feeling aimless and directionless. The story could have been stronger if it had given David a more complex opposing force, something that would have grounded his ambitions and pushed him to reflect on his choices.
Another example is David’s relationship with his mentor, which was barely explored. If that relationship had been more fleshed out, it could’ve added layers to his character and given his journey a greater sense of purpose. Instead, it felt like a missed opportunity, as if they were relying on the audience’s familiarity with the ‘student-and-mentor’ trope without actually showing any meaningful development in that dynamic. This left David’s eventual downfall feeling less impactful because the show didn’t establish the kind of support system or inner conflict that would make his arc resonate on a deeper level.
Then there’s the pacing. The second half of Edgerunners felt rushed, jumping from one dramatic moment to the next without giving the characters or story time to breathe. This inconsistency made the show feel disjointed, as if it was trying to hit all the classic cyberpunk beats—violence, tragedy, moral ambiguity—without actually exploring them. This lack of cohesion is what made Edgerunners feel superficial. It presented themes of humanity, ambition, and loss, but rather than building these organically, it relied on flashy visuals and action to cover up its narrative gaps.
And saying I ‘borrowed’ my critique? Not even close. Calling Edgerunners ‘superficial’ and ‘predictable’ is a direct response to how it handled its rushed character arcs and skipped-over development. These are my observations based on how the show presented itself.
An engaging story gives characters time to grow, explores conflicts with depth, and allows themes to develop naturally. Edgerunners nailed the visual aesthetic, but it lacked the consistency and depth that make a story worth investing in. The cyberpunk genre thrives on exploring humanity, identity, and the cost of ambition. By only skimming the surface, Edgerunners missed the chance to deliver a truly memorable and impactful narrative.
Reading a book is a much different experience that watching an anime.
Both Mori and Shinji are lacking a connection, a rope to other people, which burdens them in their respective journeys. Female attention, hell, the existence of females itself has a major impact on both of these characters as well, with Shinji's relationship to Asuka, Rei and even Misato being a fundamental part of his characterization, which is a parallel to how Mori's perspective on females is portrayed. They are both (atleast Mori until towards the end) very impressionable to female influence, prone to being played so to say. Misato kisses Shinji in End of Eva because she sees him as someone who would easily distracted by that. Similarly, Yumi gives Mori head because she sees that she can take advantage of him easily in that manner. Hell, even Mori's co-worker plays him like a fiddle to the point of besieging his room without his consent. I think that's a pretty specific similarity.
Also, I would agree that Shinji is generally more nervous, but it's not like Mori's ''apathy'' is very deliberate or intended, but moreso acts as a defense mechanism. And even he gets nervous quickly, especially with that female co-worker of his or superiors/more assertive people. He barely ever gets to speak his mind, just like Shinji.
But yeah, feel free to critique my reasoning if there's an incentive, I like to indulge in discussion of this kind. Imma shoot you a friend request, big fan of your favourites!