Amateur Recommendation Hour: Cowboy Bebop

Today’s recommendation is a work of anime that you may be familiar with. One that is routinely touted as the greatest not only of its era but in the history of the medium. Some of you may know that I go many steps further and claim it to be the greatest work of art I will ever have the privilege of experiencing in my lifetime. That is quite a lofty prediction, I know. Especially when I’ve yet to fully embrace other mediums of creation and when I still have so much to learn and discover. So confident I am in its quality, it’s staying power, and it’s impact, not only on myself but anime and storytelling art forms at large. There are so many, vastly more detailed pieces and video essays from much smarter people out there. But I’d be doing myself a disservice to not at least put into my own words why it means such a great deal to me, but why you should give it a chance to mean a great deal to you as well. Some works of art are more than the sum of their parts, others less, and some match their ambitions. Cowboy Bebop simultaneously aims highest and hits higher than you could possibly believe.

Directed by Shinichiro Watanabe and developed by the extremely talented team at Sunrise, Cowboy Bebop takes place in the year 2071, 50 years after an accident with a hyperspace gateway that made Earth uninhabitable at large, humanity has colonized all of the inhabitable planets and moons of our Solar System. In the words of Watanabe, each planet features not necessarily “multiculturalism” of the various stranded cultures of earth, but rather “statelessness” in which pieces of each culture coexist in a more natural sense. Amid a rising crime rate, the Inter Solar System Police set up a legalized contract system, in which registered bounty-hunters (also referred to as "Cowboys") chase criminals and bring them in alive in return for a reward. The story follows the habitually-broke constantly arguing crew of the small space ship known as the “Bebop.”

I have a soft spot for works that are able to combine disparate elements and genres, often times ones that have no business being together in one work of fiction, into a singular cohesive creation, as if they were made for each other. Bebop combines the elements of detective capers, Hong Kong action cinema, western, science fiction, noir, and sometimes even horror films. Not all at once, mind you. Spaced throughout its 26 episodes evenly and somehow naturally. It doesn’t miss a beat. And there's a rhythm and flow to Cowboy Bebop's episodic yet overarching plot structure that makes it's pace feel so perfect. From it's aerial space fights to it's martial arts mayhem there is such a distinctive feel to each.

Speaking of which, it’s soundtrack (at the risk of sounding a bit silly) is king, or rather queen I suppose. Composed by frequent Watanabe collaborator and The Goddess Of Music™ herself, Yoko Kanno. Like it’s namesake AND it’s wide array of genres and elements, it’s focus is swing-jazz with an emphasis on accents while incorporating some western, blues, and operatic sounds to boot. The imprint on the show’s personality is unmistakable and arguably as important as any other singular element on the show’s style and tone. All the more impressive considering the music was the very first part of the show that as conceived. Unsurprising given Watanabe’s feel for intertwining music with many of his future work’s core strengths.

It’s main cast, particularly the trio of Spike Spiegel, Jet Black, and Faye Valentine, are some of the most well written, fleshed out, three dimensional characters I have ever seen in media. The decision to portray them as middle aged adults, bored, broken, drifting through life is ambitious in and of its own right, it’s what we see of them that is so unprecedented and raw. Interestingly enough their backstories sound much more like that of a much more basic work of fiction. The former police officer disillusioned with the unjust system he is forced to work under, the amnesiac woman who knows only bits of pieces of what brought her to this point, the career criminal forced out of his syndicate and falling in love with the wrong person. Each character has already been through their respective arcs before you start the first episode. I’ve heard Cowboy Bebop described as “the movie ended and they kept rolling” which is as apt a description as I’ve yet heard. At the beginning of each episode we meet the three main protagonists often partaking in mundane busywork, such as Jet growing bonsai trees, or Spike practicing his martial arts to the point where one could believe this is what the majority of their life looks like before they get bounty information and we are privy to the small and sparse moments of excitement they realistically have.

I haven’t brought up the fourth member of the Bebop crew, master hacker Radical Edward, because not only is she just a child, but she is very much the inverse of the three before her. She’s not running away from a past she can’t live with, she still views existence with a verve, quirkiness, and optimism  that the others simply cannot. Juxtaposed against the older trio, we can see small moments of the elder team reminiscing what could have been and what ultimately now is not. 

Not only are Cowboy Bebop’s main cast extremely well written in their own right, it features some of the most memorable peripheral characters, often times only appearing in a singular episode of it’s 26, that leave a tangible impact on its legacy. Often times we see background characters as just that, vessels to continue a plot line, sometimes not justifying their existence on their own if they weren’t attached to the plot progression. And in each episode’s 24 minute run time it is able to give its episodic tenants motivations, fears, desires, sometimes wholly uniquely conveyed, central and synergistic with its core themes. A feat still unmatched in its consistent quality. The since passed Keiko Nobumoto has left an impact on character writing as a whole that may never be replicated. May she Rest In Peace.

At its core I believe this work to be about its portrayal of life as more of an endurance test, a marathon. A brutally honest admission that life is ultimately something we must overcome rather than something that is to be cherished and constantly fulfilling but that does not mean it isn’t worth living. Your past may damn you but it does not define you. Embracing it as formative and important to ultimately conquer rather than something to constantly run away from or seek refuge from. And it is in its choice to focus on adults, long since departed from their formative years, that its themes and messages are able to hit as effectively as they so often do. They’ve come of age, they know who they are, they are now dealing with what that entails and what it looks like. To quote the show “you’re gonna carry that weight.”

I hope I’ve done this transformative work of art the justice it deserves with this piece. I encourage you to find other articles, video essays, and material on it in case you are seriously interested in experiencing this incredibly stylish, existential, and fascinating work of art yourself.

See You Space Cowboy…