Let’s Watch is a weekly recap column where I follow an anime for the course of its entire runtime. Expect spoilers!
I didn’t cover Lycoris Recoil last week, but thankfully, the fourth episode was fairly minor. Mostly, it was a character-building exercise; Chisato and Takina being cute together at an aquarium and things like that. There was one major actual plot development though; the introduction of a new villain, an explosion-obsessed Joker-y type who blew up a train, killing a bunch of Lycorii in the process. Also introduced (or re-introduced? I don’t recall) were a pair of disgruntled police detectives, frustrated at being kept out of what actually happened in the subway. They turn up again here too, though only briefly.
This week’s episode is, in a phrase, a bit of a series low point. It’s not bad, but there are moments here that raise concerns about where all this might be going. To start with a fairly minor detail (a sin, I know), let’s talk about those detectives. They have no idea about a solid 90% of what goes on in Lycoris Recoil. The show portrays both as well-meaning bumblers, who are in over their head by trying to look into this conspiracy stuff at all. But at the same time, it draws a very sharp distinction between them and, say, the DA. These ordinary cops are perhaps, in Lycoris Recoil‘s opinion, the good ones. It’s the shadowy secret agents who control the government that are the bad guys.
To put it bluntly, this is a problem. Not because it’s Bad Politics™, but because it’s just not much of a notion at all. Even if you think a strong police force is a good thing, a statement I very much disagree with, you would, I think, be forced to concede that “cops should be good” is not much of a stance on anything. It’s not so much a point of view as a statement of the trivially obvious. “Cops are good, unlike the shadow cabal that controls the government” is full-on conspiracy theorist shit that has nothing to do with reality, although whether LycoReco actually believes that or is unintentionally saying such as a byproduct of its genre (it would not be the first show, or even the first anime this year, to do this) is not yet clear.
Now to be very fair to LycoReco, maybe that’s not where this is going. There is some palpable dramatic irony to Abe saying, upon having a brief run-in with Chisato, that it “doesn’t matter what’s being covered up” as long as “kids like [her] can live at ease.” Obviously, Chisato does not live at ease, specifically because she both is one of the things being covered up and is actively helping out with the covering. It’s totally possible the detectives are just meant to be a bit of comedic relief. And if so, that’s fine, and I’m just underestimating the show here. But on the other hand, I have very much gone broke on assuming anime were trying to something more involved than they actually were before. So really, who knows?
The main plot of the episode doesn’t really help elucidate matters, because this is, if not the weakest plot so far, definitely the oddest.
As is usual for LycoReco, things start out simple and then get very complicated. Initially, we’re led to believe that the client-of-the-week for this episode, a Mr. Matsushita (Teruo Seki), simply wants to tour his homeland of Japan one last time before he passes away. You see, Matsushita has been living abroad for the past 20 years because an assassin murdered his wife and daughter, and has been trying to finish the job for some time. He’s also severely physically disabled, is kept both alive and mobile by a suite of mechanical devices that are integrated into his wheelchair, including a speech synthesizer and a pair of hi-tech goggles that are evidently connected to the internet. (To be honest something about this depiction strikes me as vaguely offensive? But I’m not physically disabled, so I will pass the question of if that’s so to people who are.) Early in the episode, Chisato bonds with him over the fact that she also relies on a machine to stay alive, an entirely artificial heart (not a pacemaker, as she’s quick to correct). Naturally, this is supplied by the mysterious Alan Institute, who seem to have their hands in just about everything that goes on in Lycoris Recoil.
This conversation also establishes that however her artificial heart works, it doesn’t actually beat. So no, Chisato’s kokoro does not, in fact, go doki-doki.
Throughout most of the episode, Chisato and Takina—mostly the former—play tour guide. These scenes are pretty cute, although I point out with some trepidation that there are bits that look noticeably rougher than LycoReco has so far, which is a touch worrying. (There’s also a lot of leaning on various characters’ mid-distance models, which is less worrying, but is a bit funny.)
Of course, Lycoris Recoil is not a show about taking calm riverboat cruises and nice visits to local temples, even if it does a pretty good job of dressing up as one here.
And before we get to why it’s not that, I’d also be remiss to not mention that Takina gets very curious about Chisato’s heart during the aforementioned cruise, which leads to a Moment.
But enough of that. Did you guess that the assassin who tried to off Mr. Matsushita 20 years ago would show up as this episode’s primary antagonist? If you did, come collect your prize, because you were correct. “Silent” Jin is an interesting but decidedly minor character—true to the name, he only speaks a few words here, all in the last minute or two of the episode—a former colleague of Mika’s and consummate professional who is actually able to get the drop on the Lycorii. Not that it saves him from eventually getting his ass handed to him when Chisato is able to confront him directly. The roughness of the rest of the episode doesn’t apply as much to the action sequences, and there are a couple pretty great moments, although nothing that tops the whole “bullet dodge shuffle” bit in episode 2.
It’s been a great week for stills depicting rumpled skirts here on Magic Planet Anime.
But after they catch Jin, Chisato and Takina learn that, oh dear, Mr. Matsushita’s actual request is that Chisato—specifically Chisato—kill him. For revenge reasons, of course.
Chisato, being something of a pacifist-by-technicality, objects to this, but before anyone can really get their point of view spelled out in full, Matsushita’s life support is remotely deactivated. Do you feel bad for him yet? Well, don’t. There is no Mr. Matsushita, and this episode’s entire premise rests on a massive lie. As the folks at the cafe eventually discover—and we learn along with them—the man actually in the wheelchair was a helpless, lifelong addict who was, apparently, basically just straight-up kidnapped. Everything else; the voice coming out of the synthesizer, the actual movement of the wheelchair, etc., was done remotely. The entire point, all along, was getting Chisato to kill a guy.
Which of course then brings us into the question of who did all this and why. A few stray statements made by “Mr. Matsushita” as he’s trying to get Chisato to off Jin, coupled with something that was said last week, may clear things up. Specifically, it seems that the enigmatic Mr. Alan (not to be confused with that Youtube fellow who thought Turning Red should mention 9/11), who was probably the person who gave Chisato her new heart in the first place, thinks Chisato is a—the show’s words here—“genius of killing.” The Alan Institute, as the show’s gone over more than once, helps out extraordinary individuals in difficult situations. Perhaps Mr. Alan thinks that Chisato is the Picasso of murder and is trying to push her into taking up her craft again.
There are a lot of places Lycoris Recoil could take this. We don’t know enough about Alan to make strong statements on what (if anything) he’s supposed to specifically represent, yet. The fact that he’s a billionaire and grants aid to people only to then take that to mean that they owe him their entire life certainly can be read a very specific way. But it also wouldn’t be at all hard for Lycoris Recoil to back off of that point of view entirely. (It would not be the first work of fiction to fail to properly analyze the underlying problems of an evil billionaire.) It still feels too early to call, even as we approach the show’s halfway mark.
The episode ends with two very different scenes, and I think that the contrast between them can serve as a useful metaphor for the crossroads which Lycoris Recoil currently stands at.
One is the worst scene in the entire show so far; a nameless Lycoris is assassinated in the dumbest fashion imaginable by the Joker-y terrorist I mentioned at the top of this article. He runs her over with a car and then has a bunch of anonymous goons riddle her with bullets in the middle of a random nighttime street. It’s comically abrupt, comes out of nowhere, and seems to serve no real purpose but shock value. (It’s also easily the ugliest scene of LycoReco so far, which doesn’t help.)
The other, which happens immediately after, takes place back at the cafe. Takina, now alone with Chisato, rests her head on her chest, fascinated by her lack of an audible heartbeat. (Whether she has ulterior motives, well, that’s a matter of interpretation.) Takina justifies her doing this by saying that no one else is around, and Chisato raises no further objections. The two simply lie there, enjoying each other’s company, and Chisato remarks that her quiet artificial ticker is “cool.” On that very much true statement, the episode comes to a low-key close.
Like what you’re reading? Consider following Magic Planet Anime to get notified when new articles go live. If you’d like to talk to other Magic Planet Anime readers, consider joining my Discord server! Also consider following me on Twitter and supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon. If you want to read more of my work, consider heading over to the Directory to browse by category.
All views expressed on Magic Planet Anime are solely my own opinions and conclusions and should not be taken to reflect the opinions of any other persons, groups, or organizations. All text, excepting direct quotations, is owned by Magic Planet Anime. Do not duplicate without permission. All images are owned by their original copyright holders.



















































