Hello everyone, and welcome the heck back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am delighted to be returning to Dorohedoro, a show which has swiftly established itself as one of 2020’s very best productions. Heck, Dorohedoro would still be a top show even in a year less beset by plague and isekai; from its charming cast and confident worldbuilding to its absolutely gorgeous background design, the show is an embarrassment of riches, with only the unfortunate weak point of its CG character designs holding it down. But it’s a credit to this story’s appeal that even though its actual fight scenes are pretty lousy, it’s still keeping me gripped with its narrative turns.
Dorohedoro is a fusion of many things, but one of my favorite of its combinations is how it transposes old school magical ritual to a gritty urban setting. Magic isn’t a clean or obvious process here; it’s personal and unmanageable and terribly messy, in the way you’d see in an old-school fairy tale (or more recently, something like The Ancient Magus Bride). Dorohedoro has taken that old-school woods magic and recast it as both the symptom and cause of urban decay, the dark energy that runs through the drainage lines beneath Hole’s concrete jungle. It’s a fascinating mix, like a witchier variation on cyberpunk, and I’m eager to see what else Q Hayashida can do with it. Without further rambling, let’s get to Dorohedoro!