Story by Gainax/Konomini Project, art by Ashita Morimi
Tokyopop, 256 pp.
Rating: Ages 18+

This Ugly Yet Beautiful World has all the makings of an epic, but it’s no action romp, despite the presence of giant monsters and super powers. Indeed, the book seems more interested in exploring very human emotions like loneliness and longing. Overall, it should appeal to audiences who aren’t turned off by an engrossing, leisurely paced drama and characters with depth. Also, most of the protagonists are adolescents, so when the author closes things off with a sense of dread about the future, it seems poignant and appropriate.

Gainax previously created Neon Genesis Evangelion, which also featured sci-fi/fantasy elements while focusing on teenagers and their romantic attachments. This time around, even the title sounds relatively high-concept for an action-adventure series and, not surprisingly, there’s symbolism of a religious and psychological sort (which this review will get into later). Mecha might play a prominent role down the line, but for the most part, volume one revolves around the initial interactions between two young boys named Takeru and Ryou with Hikari and Akari, two girls born of a falling star.

There’s a gritty battle sequence, but as previously mentioned, This Ugly Yet Beautiful World is more of a contemplative melodrama than testosterone-loaded romp. Boy saves girl and wonders why something monstrous and tentacle-armed was after her—not to mention how he was able to turn his arm into metal to fight it—but that gets swept aside by other matters: namely, Hikari and Akari’s efforts to adapt to this world, and the ensemble of supporting characters adjusting to their arrival. Expect festering angst with some comedy tossed in, but not a lot of explosions.

“Sweeping” is a fitting word for how the storytelling sometimes feels, as Gainax/Konomini Project alternate between protagonists. We get into the head of Takeru as he deals with an affectionate female who looks around his age for the first time. Meanwhile, Ryou finds someone to take care of, and the two star-girls experience what it’s like to be human. This patient approach allows each character enough panel time for readers to connect with them and to sympathize with their respective relationships; in the case of Takeru and Hikari, one gets the feeling they’re supposed to, for lack of a better word, complete the other.

Morimi’s artwork complements the story nicely, as it frequently has a lyrical feel. At various points, characters are depicted alone, surrounded by nature, and it’s at these moments where the artist perfectly captures the mood of loneliness, an emotion that seems to play a vital role. (There are also nightmarishly rendered flashbacks showing some trauma from Takeru’s childhood; whatever it was, it left him fearful of being alone, which might explain why he barely hesitates to provide shelter for a star-child he’s just met.) Meanwhile, there’s the recurring visual motif of characters floating in space, but ironically, it seems to coincide with them finding solace or companionship in one another.

This Ugly Yet Beautiful World doesn’t quite knock my socks off, but it might down the line; it seems to be taking its time getting wherever it wants to go. Ultimately, if I had any qualms, it would be over the amount of nudity, which on the one hand befits all the naked emotions going around. But the artist occasionally uses gratuitous angles, and by western standards, some images are uncomfortable to look at while others seem downright inappropriate. That’s a shame. If Morimi had only drawn a jacket over Hikaru at certain moments, this series might be acceptable for all ages.

Volume one of This Ugly Yet Beautiful World is available now.

Review copy provided by the publisher.