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One at-last appreciable element of Peach Boy Riverside here at the end is the understanding of not needing to judge this episode as a true ‘finale’. The actual final episode aired in its shuffled slot weeks ago, and you’ll recall I actually felt it worked pretty well in terms of a feeling of climax and closure for this season of the show. So here we are looping back around to what the crew have decided is going to be the last in this twelve-pack of PBR, with me feeling rather liberated that I really only need to judge this one on the merits of itself and how it finishes off its specific story arc. An odd priority for the merits of the show, for sure, but after three months of grappling with the logistical mess of watching this series, I’ll accept anything that makes my job a bit easier.
Thing is, this legally-sixth episode actually does function as a story climax surprisingly well. Had this been a half-length miniseries, I think this one would have made an effective enough finisher, and when viewed in-order it oughta do well as a ‘mid-season finale’. Yes that does shine a light one last time on how well PBR‘s pacing could have worked if they’d just let it be, but that’s also a dead horse of a point that’s extremely moot here at the end. So what do we get? Most importantly, some actual attempt at forward progress on Sally’s whole ‘racial compromise’ mission-statement. After working her way through her abilities and options last week and ending with her declaring that she was going to stop all the fighting around Juki, the tree Oni, the Princess finally decides simply to wake up and choose violence.
Okay there’s obviously more to how we get to that point. A lot of it involves at last laying out some more technical explanations of how this world, and us watching it, got to where it is. Granted, not a lot of it still makes any sense, but it’s nice to know they at least made a token effort halfway through what we’ve seen of the story. Oni hate humans because they’re made out of hatred extracted from humans by some ‘Creator’ who is at this point unknown (though let’s be real it’s more than likely Sumeragi). It doesn’t really offer much in the way of an allegorical answer to the real-world questions of prejudice the series keeps trying to reflect with its conflict, apart from a basic ‘hate begets hate’ platitude. And in the context of the story itself, the technicalities of this violent natural sorting algorithm seem only to exist at the behest of the dramatisation of the story. The irresistible violent impulses of the Oni was always a frustrating inexplicability, but now the explanation that’s been offered seems to exist simply to be an explanation. Whether the Oni can ever overcome those impulses or what the Creator actually hopes to gain for them are still completely up in the air, with the only resolution to my pressing inquiry of “So why can’t the Oni stop themselves from eating people?” being “Because some jerk said so, shut up!”
Sally’s own in-story refutation of that then at least rings a little more in-tune with PBR‘s gritty real-world-style struggling compromises in a way that feels narratively satisfying, if a bit personally disagreeable. It is true that in searching for understanding, you’ll inevitably encounter people who engage in antagonism for its own sake, and cannot be reasoned with. In the interest of the safety of others, you may have to fight, but the outset of Sally coming to this realization is…thorny at best. There’s only something a little darkly funny about her threatening to kill anybody that doesn’t fall in line with her requests that everyone get along. And I feel like the story is attempting to integrate that characteristic contradiction with her growing awareness of her own Momotaro powers in this episode, presenting this odd push-and-pull between her altruistic goals and her own supernaturally-fueled internal enjoyment of Oni-battling. That runs into the same issue though of the explanation for the impulses of the Oni themselves, Sally’s peach-eye powers going even less explained then apart from some vagaries about it being an opposing force of the aforementioned Oni-hate-fuel. Does Sally resolving to put her powers to ‘good’ use only to just obliterate Juki with a single punch come off as some circularly simple storytelling in the face of all the effort it took to get there? Yes. Is it a bit unintentionally hilarious that the solution to this situational conundrum was “Kill the big tree” after spending all this time trying to find a workaround? Also yes.
At this stage, which we must remember still occurs quite early on in the story, I don’t know that I could accuse Peach Boy Riverside of trying to ‘say’ anything about the nature of racism and prejudice apart from “It’s complicated!”. But its inability to do anything with that kind of dense thematic baggage has always held the show back, so in that respect, it’s almost refreshing to see the story throw some stuff out there, to try for some sort of idea, poorly-articulated mess that it is. And making those efforts does let it wrap here on a moderately-effective upswing. Sure we just have to take at face value that Sally’s explosive display of tree murder was enough to convince the elves to put their desire to genocide the lizardfolk on hold, but the sight of them collaborating around the table along with a human makes for a solid beat for her narrative to stop on. The show even throws in a momentous flashback to previous events partyway through the big fight just to help it feel even more like a proper finale.
I know I said I didn’t need to judge this episode as a ‘real’ finale, but I can’t help but want to reflect on where this leaves Peach Boy Riverside moving forward. I have no idea what the odds are for a second season of this thing, or if they would attempt such an ill-advised airing gimmick for a hypothetical continuation. The structure in general just leaves the audience with more curiosity about how the series will now work when seen in an order that makes sense, if they have any interest at all, versus continuing to see where explanations of the story and world might go. At best, this show mostly functioned as one of those “Read the manga!” source-material showcases, though hardly in a positive way, given how it represented some of the worst possible choices for presenting this story, and what we were able to glean of it never seemed super-compelling anyway.
Rating:
Peach Boy Riverside is currently streaming on
Crunchyroll.
Chris is a freelance writer who appreciates anime, action figures, and additional ancillary artistry. He can be found staying up way too late posting screencaps on his Twitter.
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