By Darius
The other day, on a rainy afternoon, I watched Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba – The Movie: Infinity Castle – Part 1: Akaza Returns in an overly air-conditioned cinema, bundled up in my jacket. The film ran for over two and a half hours, yet I still want more.
Beginning of the story
My "connection" with Demon Slayer dates back to my undergraduate days. After finishing its first season, I realized it was both a typical and atypical "workman's anime." The typical aspects lie in its plot, which, like other shounen works such as Naruto and One Piece, revolves around the protagonist's growth and their battles against evil forces. The protagonists are young, the villains are powerful, and the hero and their companions must continuously improve through a series of trials. This kind of storyline appeals to a massive audience—hence the term "workman's anime," likening its broad appeal to the large crowds of laborers on a construction site.
The atypical aspects, however, are that while Demon Slayer has its humorous moments, it doesn't feel overly absurd. The plot also avoids prematurely introducing the clichéd element of "romance," instead handling the protagonist's interpersonal relationships more naturally, gradually deepening the bonds between characters. This relatively nuanced style and approach set it apart from other works targeting younger audiences.
Global popularity: How?
We all know that while Japanese anime's global popularity is undeniable, not every series wins the favor of international viewers. So why has Demon Slayer received so much praise? Why did so many YouTube creators choose to make reaction videos about it?
In my opinion, Demon Slayer is a work for the masses, so in terms of philosophical depth or plot complexity, it is not able to compare to darker, more thought-provoking series like Tokyo Ghoul, Made in Abyss, or Puella Magi Madoka Magica. But that's precisely where its strength lies: its plot is clear (well-paced, thematically distinct, with no unnecessary filler). In short, it's down-to-earth and easy to understand. There have been so many works (not just anime) that try to explore deeper themes but end up coming across as pretentious. If that's the case, it's much better to just tell a simple story well; otherwise, viewers will move their arses out halfway.
At the same time, the character designs are delightful. The protagonist, Tanjiro, is gentle and kind but also fiercely opposed to evil. He's a bit socially awkward but demonstrates huge courage and resourcefulness in critical moments, making him highly reliable. Unlike hot-headed yet occasionally brilliant protagonists like Naruto Uzumaki, Tanjiro embodies more "maternal" traits—he's attentive and kind-hearted, skilled at caring for and understanding others.
This, eventually, makes him a refreshingly different yet immensely likable hero. The main antagonist, Muzan, on the other hand, is utterly despicable—a murderous addict who shows no regard for life. You'll hardly find any glimmer of humanity in him if you watch the anime—though, of course, he's a demon, so that's to be expected. Reasonable!
The series draws a clear line between good and evil: the protagonist and his allies are unequivocally good, while the main villain is unequivocally evil. Though some villains have tragic pasts that evoke pain and sympathy, once the two sides meet, it's a life-or-death battle with no mercy. Tanjiro may feel sympathy for certain antagonists, but he doesn't let compassion cloud his judgment. Only after thoroughly defeating them does he show his sorrow.
As the old saying goes, "Without the power to wield thunder, how can one harbor a kind heart?" Before the enemy is defeated, any sympathy for them becomes cruelty to one's allies. After all, no matter how much someone has suffered, that suffering can never justify harming others.
Another point is that the protagonist's growth is rapid but not abrupt. In today's fast-paced society, audiences love to see the hero make leaps in progress—but how? If the journey of training were smooth sailing, what would be the point of this boring work?
In the series, the protagonist undergoes trials like apprenticeship, examinations, missions, and dedicated training, transforming from a child who couldn't fight at all into a formidable warrior. Along the way, he encounters peers stronger than himself and redoubles his efforts; he loses respected seniors and feels his weakness, driving him to train desperately; he even nearly loses his sister while fighting demons to save more lives. Through it all, the audience witnesses a timid boy who could only cry for help evolve into a hero who stands firm in the face of danger.
And so, viewers cheer: "This is what a protagonist should be!"
Finally, the series isn't entirely devoid of food for thought. The shrewd original author, Koyoharu Gotouge, doesn't attribute all evil to the demons. Many villains become demons because, previously as humans, they were bullied, exploited, or even murdered by other humans, ultimately choosing to turn to the dark side. In the anime and films, when these antagonists with tragic pasts recall their stories, countless viewers burst into tears. Perhaps they are truly evil—but they're also truly pitiable, since what made them evil wasn't the demons, but some humans way worse than demons. None of the evil traits possessed by the demons is exclusive to them; they're all projections of the malice in human hearts.
Indeed, if everyone could treat others with kindness, demons would have nowhere to go.
If a person has the chance to be good, why would they ever choose to be evil?
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