“What kind of half-assed backstory is that?”
Sorry, Hannah and Preston, but I may have the best show of the Fall here. A silly little show about a guy who’s a hero for fun, who just got too gosh-darn strong.
One Punch Man packs an enormous amount of action and comedy into 23 minutes, and in a way that somehow didn’t leave me in the dust. This show is a master of comic timing, sight gags, and wry one-liners, some of which I’ll list throughout this review without context.
“Look at these claws! I can’t even use a towel to wipe it off!”
Of course, dialogue is only half of the fun. The entire ridiculous premise is a heart-lightening joy to behold, in a world where strange, half-dressed supervillains are always cropping up. In a wondrously bizarre origin story, our hero, just coming off another job interview rejection, moved without thinking in savin a big-chinned brat from a tighty-whitey-wearing crab monster by pulling out all his innards.
“In this age of declining birth rates, I can’t just let you kill a kid!.”
Cutting back to the present, we see OPM inspecting crab claws, which made him reminisce about the past in the first place.
“I added strawberry flavoring to make it go down easier.”
Shows with simple rules always feel tighter, more confident and engaging, and OPM has one simple rule: One Punch Man Always Wins, and he always wins with one punch.
“Put some pants on.”
It doesn’t matter what the supervillain’s ability is, or how nasty and big and strong they are; all OPM needs is a momentary opening to deliver his one punch and it’s all over…though sometimes there’s a degree of collateral damage involved, reinforced by the fact they don’t even bother naming cities in this world, because they’re so often toppled.
[CITY B DESTROYED]
“In other words, you could say that I haven’t made any impact.”
But due to that one-punch-takes-all rule, One Punch Man is also One Bored Man, feeling neither anger nor passion. He trained so hard to be the most powerful hero the world has ever seen, but it’s still left him wanting, as we see from his humdrum evening routine of washing his gloves, making a simple meal, and watching TV until falling asleep.
OPM’s blank stares and unwillingness to get worked up about any crisis, no matter how dire, is one of many sources of the show’s comedy, and works very nicely indeed.
From the supermarket around him being destroyed to being plucked out into the morning before he gets his coffee, the speed and intensity with which OPM ends up in his superhero battles is also a strength of this show, as is its tendency to play tricks on the audience.
When thrust out onto the streets, OPM’s apartment is destroyed and he’s confronted by a number of tough-looking “Subterraneans” who call themselves the true humanity and are committed to eradicating all surface dwellers. Having already wiped out 70% of them (yikes!) they turn on OPM as one more target. And they’re able to make him bleed!
Despite still being able to defeat one Subterranean after another with—you guessed it—one punch, the fact they’re able to hurt him and come at him in such overwhelming numbers starts to suddenly awaken something in OPM as he does battle in his increasingly tatter jammie-jams. Could he finally be getting back what three years of intense training took away, along with his hair?
It certainly seems so, as after wave after wave of Subbies turn into piles of bodies before him and the massive Subterranean King finally shows himself and challenges him, OPM is suddenly having the time of his life, his passion and drive fully restored…
But alas, it’s only a dream. The real Subterraneans and their king are even more of a pushover than the other baddies he’s fought this week. After dealing with them all too quickly, he once again laments that he’s become too strong. One could say this show is too strong, too; but I don’t care. I love it.