Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I figured we’d continue the story of Vox Machina, and see if this story has found its footing. The show’s first episode was handicapped by an insecurity that I see in a lot of these “American fantasy for adults” properties, an insecurity that tends to express itself as a reliance on vulgarity and ultraviolence as shorthand for seriousness. Along with showing off their “mature bona fides,” these displays demonstrate irreverence or contempt for the generally self-serious tone of such properties, assuring audiences that it’s okay to like this one.

If you can’t tell, I have nothing but disdain for this instinct. It is far less shameful to earnestly invest in your story than continuously apologize for it, and the instinct to associate maturity with ultraviolence seems deeply juvenile in its own right – the plaintive cry of “it’s not cartoons, it’s anime.” Fortunately, the second half of this show’s premiere saw the story finally stepping off its own cloak, and demonstrating some earnest drama across the main crew. We’re still in pretty by-the-books fantasy territory, but that’s how all D&D campaigns start; the nuance is found in how your story blooms, and I’m eager to see it happen. Let’s get back to the trail!

Episode 2

We open on a military encampment at night, where worried-looking soldiers are sharpening their weapons. This production’s full embrace of shading, multilevel compositions, and racking focus put it ahead of many modern American cartoons – obviously every single one of the rig-based comedies, but also less-equipped dramas like She-ra and Invincible. There’s an actual sense of depth in these compositions; it’s not Kyoto Animation or anything, but it’s quite welcome, and goes a long way towards making this world feel substantial

General Krieg from the capital attempts to rally the troops

And then the dragon obliterates them in the night, with the camera once again exulting in ultraviolence. Honestly, most actual horror movies aren’t this tasteless – they understand that violence is a powerful dramatic seasoning, but loses its flavor entirely when overused

But hey, Attack on Titan is one of the biggest anime on the planet, so clearly I just don’t understand the appeal of watching bodies get ripped apart for twenty minutes

Oh man, this intro looks nice as hell! Really ambitious camera movements throughout – no characters moving against a still background here, this is more like the full compositional movement of prestige action anime. The movement is free enough to actually appreciate the intent of the cinematography, as it creates a sense of rushing momentum that binds these disparate origins into a single conflict. And ending on that flex shot so rich in movement and design details, as we pan around the party while the foliage allows for background wipe cuts. Great stuff!

Krief survives to report that the attacker was a blue dragon. As appropriate for a universe where dragons occupy half of the title, D&D is rich in dragon lore, with each color of dragon demonstrating its own powers, values, and temperament. One sinister dragon can be the mastermind behind an entire campaign – they’re more intelligent than humans, live longer, and have all sorts of bullshit legendary actions they can perform when it isn’t even their turn

They’re also master shapeshifters, so we’ve got every reason to suspect that Sir Fince here is our guy

“How did you survive?” “We hid and it ran away.” This is very convincing D&D dialogue, which creates an interesting sort of tension when it’s translated to traditional fiction for a show like this. There are a variety of ways to enjoy D&D; you might lean hard into play-acting your character, or you might just hang in the sky above them, riffing on whatever happens to transpire. Conversations with DM-controlled characters can thus include a whole lot of irreverent commentary from the party members, as they essentially do the equivalent of picking ridiculous dialogue options just to see what will happen. This feels natural when you’re all present and joking around together, but can get a bit more strange when that acknowledgment of artifice is lost, and it’s just the fantasy characters relaying your snarky one liners

Lady Kima the halfling is not pleased with the king’s decision to meet the dragon in battle

Nice visual comedy beat of the guards fussing over their bear, then snapping to attention. I vastly prefer this incidental in-character humor to the immersion-breaking meta stuff

“I didn’t catch anybody’s name.” The berserker feels like another classic D&D player archetype: the person who’s never really paying attention to the story, and just wants to smash things in combat, and thus plays a character who feels the same way. I’ve been in his allies’ position quite frequently, explaining where we are and what we’re doing there for the third or fourth time

Nice colors and designs as two of our party enter a shop. I wish the background art lacked that digital linework perfection of form, but I guess you can’t have everything

The proprietor Gilmore seems to have a thing for Vax

“We need to know if blue dragons have any weaknesses.” I genuinely appreciate how this story is embracing the various structural oddities of D&D fiction. In traditional fiction, the plot would most likely just carry our leads from that last check-in to their next destination; perhaps the dragon swoops directly overhead, simplifying things significantly. But in D&D, you often just have to poke around and ask villagers questions and compile data, doing a bunch of things that would probably be shorthanded to exposition in a traditional novel

Scanlan just wants to go to the brothel. My own D&D party initially had a member who was largely defined by their romantic skills, until we suddenly realized that would demand the player and DM be constantly flirting with each other. We readjusted that characterization preeetty quickly

They find Fince entirely by accident, which is how stories actually go. There’s an inherent tension between the accepted serendipity of narrative logic, versus the gamified sense of cause and effect that characterizes player-driven narratives. Too much game logic and it doesn’t feel like a story, too much serendipity and it doesn’t feel like your actions matter

Another quintessential D&D experience as the party contends with a locked door. Everyone just takes turns hitting it with their special powers, bickering all the while. Rather than the seemingly fated coherency of traditional fiction, D&D can often involve a lot of trying every possible option and seeing what works

And of course, the rogue handles it effortlessly

They’ve invaded Krieg’s house. Given his apparent prior knowledge of the dragon’s attack and survival of said attack, it seems he’s in on this dragon business

Yep, Krieg kills Fince, who was just innocently collecting evidence

The next room is full of magical artifacts, and the party nearly destroys my suspension of disbelief by failing to shove every one of them in a sack. What are you here for, if not to steal valuable magical artifacts!?

Theeere we go. The party travels through a portal into a chamber with a vast treasure trove, and now begins shoving it all into sacks. Belief restored

Vex is the only one to point out that treasure troves don’t just pop up spontaneously, and they’ve probably tripped into the dragon’s lair

Dragon-fighting time. I like this detail of the lightning breath missing Grog, but then traveling down the gold to hit him anyway

“Where the twin rivers meet… the neck!” This is a part of D&D game design that seems incredibly difficult to get right: leading your players towards specific key deductions with just the right amount of prodding. Characters in fiction can achieve flashes of insight whenever you describe them as doing so, but D&D party members aren’t so convenient

The camera shakes and momentarily loses focus as the party reemerges from certain death. This show is really making the most of its post-production tricks to evoke a “cinematic-feeling” experience

Also, just plain terrific character animation for the team members as they tumble into battle. Love this sequence of Vox slipping around falling boulders, just the right balance of grace and luck

“For your selfless actions, I pronounce you protectors of the realm, and honorary members of the council of Tal’Dorei.” This happens all the time in D&D, and I frankly fear for the future of any nation that decides its political leadership based on who can kill dragons good

And with a banquet waiting and some ominous new dignitaries approaching, that’s where we’ll end our session!

And Done

Heck yeah, we’re really moving now. As expected, the story is improving rapidly now that we’ve passed introductions, even if we’re still largely in “introductory D&D adventure” territory. That actually suits me just fine, as it’s fascinating exploring all the subtle ways this story either is or isn’t adjusting its material for a strictly narrative medium. Plus, I actually like the team at this point, and this episode even offered some genuinely excellent animation to boot. Things are looking up for both the heroes and the tale of Vox Machina!

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