The Question of Strength—Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba -Infinity Castle- Part 1

It is a hell of a move to conclude Demon Slayer, one of the biggest anime and manga of the past 10 years, with a trilogy of movies. I have to assume that putting it in theaters is a way to both create hype and make lots of money in the process, and dang it, it’s working. Not only is Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Infinity Castle- Part 1 an overall compelling watch, but it’s apparently the biggest box office weekend in the US for an anime film since Pokémon: The First Movie

Despite being the finale, the premise of the Infinity Castle movies is a simple one: After a costly confrontation against Kibutsuji Muzan, protagonist Kamada Tanjiro and the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps seemingly have the villain cornered. However, the heroes suddenly find themselves teleported into the heart of enemy territory. Here in the infinitely expanding castle that Muzan calls his home base, they must face his strongest lieutenants while dealing with a space that defies logic and reason. If they don’t take out the demons here, all will be lost.

The setting is pretty much perfect for a shounen battle anime: an array of elaborate and intense fight scenes that also tell interesting stories about the characters involved. Some clashes are culminations of previous storylines, others reveal previously unknown sides of characters, and everything remains pleasantly hard to predict. It’s a little bit Ninja Scroll and a little bit Girls und Panzer films in terms of never letting up on the tension, with the occasional requisite backstory flashback being the main way to calm things down.

But while Infinity Castle Part 1 is pretty much all “fight, fight, fight,” I think it still portrays compelling and often tragic dramas involving both the beauty and ugliness of humanity in a satisfying manner. Through it all, the film emphasizes ideas that have been core to Demon Slayer: Mutual cooperation can overcome obstacles, compassion is a strength, and humanity is built on helping the weak and paying it forward to the next generation. 

One issue with this movie is that while it has not yet been adapted for TV episodes, it still feels like a series of episodes or chapters stitched together. There was little attempt to structure it as a feature-length film, especially when it comes to the positioning of flashbacks (of which there are many). Moreover, Part 1 is over two and a half hours long, and while I enjoyed every minute, it did feel a little bloated and awkwardly paced at times.

Every battle in the movie are amazing, but I do want to give particular attention to the main fight of this first movie, so there will be SPOILERS AHEAD.

As Tanjiro and the others try to make their way through, he and Giyu the Water Hashira are attacked by Akaza, Muzan’s third strongest minion, and the one with whom Tanjiro has the most history. It was Akaza who killed a valiant Rengoku Kyojuro during the Mugen Train arc, and when they last met, Tanjiro was far outclassed by the demon and his hand-to-hand fighting skills. However, Tanjiro also left a searing impression in Akaza’s mind, calling him a coward for fleeing at dawn when Demon Slayers have to fight demons in the dark of night all the time. 

In this violent reunion, Tanjiro manages to accomplish what he couldn’t before when he slices through Akaza’s body. While this is only a temporary setback for the demon, it’s the first sign that Tanjiro has grown as a warrior. Unfortunately, Akaza quickly adapts to both Tanjiro and Giyu, and it isn’t until Tanjiro manages to piece together various thoughts and memories related to Akaza, the nature of battle and conflict, and his own childhood with his father that he manages to tap into a higher plane of martial expression (the “transparent world,” where killing intent is absent and only movement remains) that he deals a catastrophic blow to his opponent.

While Akaza somehow survives and even starts to regenerate from the brink of demise, the fact that Tanjiro surpassed him in battle, if only for an instant, helps jog Akaza’s faded memories. Remembering his turbulent past life as a child thief trying to get medicine for his gravely ill father, and the second chance he received from a martial artist and daughter before Akaza’s happiness was ripped from him by a petty local clan, Akaza realizes that Tanjiro is exactly the kind of person he wanted to be. The bloody pursuit of strength that has defined him as a demon is revealed to be a corruption of his own desire to live honorably and protect his loved ones. Akaza willingly defeats himself (literally), and visions of his departed fiancee, adoptive father, and birth father help him to shake off Muzan’s control and pass on for good. 

I am utterly impressed by the way this fight plays out. It just encapsulates so much of what makes Demon Slayer a great series, especially the way Tanjiro’s heart breaks through even the toughest obstacles, including the very demons he fights. Akaza is shown to be a human who struggled with the unfairness of the world that punishes the poor for merely existing, and that much of the trauma he suffered came from human hands. Yet, he also recalls a lesson from his old life that it’s never too late to start over, and this puts him on the path to relinquishing his demonhood, even at the cost of his life.

END OF SPOILERS

As someone who was there in the theater to watch Mewtwo Strikes Back back in 1999 and remember the buzz surrounding it, this record-breaking achievement says a lot about how far anime has come. This is maybe the biggest sign that anime has truly, truly arrived on American shores, and the long-time fan in me rejoices in this development. And given what a great watch Infinity Castle Part 1 is, I wouldn’t be surprised if fans are going to watch it multiple times. 

Now it’s time to see how the next film plays out. 

Kio Shimoku Twitter Highlights July 2025

Kio’s PC is not doing so well.

The print edition of the latest chapter of Spotted Flower is out (and by the time of this blog post, so should the digital!).

Kio watched one of his How Do You Like Wednesday? Blu-ray: Visiting 21 European Nations in Our 21st Year.

Kio voted in Japan’s recent elections. 

Because he has a number of days off, Kio feels he should go see the Demon Slayer: Infinity Castle Part 1 movie.

When he saw the movie Kokuhou, Kio managed to eat ramen and not have to pee for the entirety of the 175-minute movie, so he decided he’ll do the same for the Demon Slayer movie, which is 155 minutes long.

Kio talks about not feeling the effectiveness of some mochi (This is missing some context, but it might be related to the ramen).

The ramen plan worked. “Total victory.”

Kio got into Demon Slayer thanks to the anime and then bought the entire manga. However, he never finished it, so he doesn’t know how it ends. 

Kio thought a picture of two tortoise toys from the Ichiban Kuji line looked shockingly realistic, only to realize one of them was an actual tortoise. It reminds him a lot of his own pet.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba and Kibutsuji Muzan’s Great Flaw

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba’s Hashira Training Arc has just finished, acting as the prelude to the end. There’s a controversy over its pacing (namely that it streeetches out what is a brief section of the manga despite relatively little source material), but I’d like to put that aside to talk about what I think is the most important moment from the season—one that highlights a core aspect of the main antagonist, Kibutsuji Muzan.

In the final episode of the Hashira Training Arc, Muzan confronts the head of the Demon Slayer Corps, Ubuyashiki Kagaya, who is bedridden and not long for the world. The eternally youthful Muzan mocks Ubuyashiki for his physical deterioration, only for Ubuyashiki to speak about Muzan’s obsession with his own immortality. The demon slayer leader juxtaposes this obsession with the driving animus of the Demon Slayer Corps: though it may consist of mortals, their collective will to defeat the demons lives on. In contrast, the demons rely entirely on Muzan for their continued existence. If he perishes, so too will they.

There lies the inherent opposition between the group structure of demon slayers vs. demons. Muzan has created a system where he alone holds all the cards, going beyond even the most tyrannical despot. And not only does he view his minions as property, he is unwilling to cede any degree of power to them if it is not under his full control. Whereas Ubuyashiki’s followers come to respect him for his compassion and determination, the demons cower in abject fear of Muzan because they are nothing without him. The Demon Slayer Corps legacy carries on, and not simply through childbirth. Instead, it is accomplished primarily through teaching and raising the next generation to be better.

The difference between Ubuyashiki and Muzan comes down to selfishness. It’s the boss who expects everyone to be at their beck and call, the narcissistic parental figure who demands their children listen to them just because, the political leader who passes laws to benefit themselves rather than their citizens. It didn’t have to be the case that toppling Muzan ends the demons, but the man set it up that way, mistakenly believing his weakness to be strength. As we now await the final movie trilogy to conclude Demon Slayer, I’m interested in seeing how this all plays out.

When the Shounen Good Boy Gets Hate: Tanjiro, Deku, and Anti-Antiheroes

The first time I learned that some anime and manga fans dislike Tanjiro from Demon Slayer, I was genuinely surprised. To me, he’s one of the best shounen protagonists in a long time: a gentle soul whose greatest qualities are love and empathy, and who is fueled by those emotions to get stronger. And in terms of the battles Tanjjro fights, I really enjoy how every victory feels like it came at great cost to him, emotionally and physically.

“How could anyone not like Tanjiro?” I wondered. Even knowing that this was probably a minority of viewers, I decided to just look at online comments both off the cuff and more detailed, and saw a few recurring criticisms. Namely, the goodness of Tanjiro can make him come across as preachy or self-righteous. He’s too good, lacking any darkness whatsoever, and this can be difficult to relate to. 

I understand not being into goody two-shoes, but what confused me at first is that it’s not like Tanjiro is a perfect unstoppable hero. He’s often unable to defeat demons on his own, and it means that battles are more of a collective effort. However, I eventually realized that this too can be seen as an unappealing trait precisely because he didn’t win on his own.

Things changed when I began approaching the matter in pro wrestling terms. Essentially, I think a lot of people who aren’t fond of Tanjiro—or other similar characters like Deku from My Hero Academia—want heroes more akin to wrestling greats like Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, and post-1980s Sting. Back in the 1990s, antiheroes became much more prominent in entertainment as a whole, and while they were often underdogs against an oppressive greater force, they were also rowdy ass kickers. In contrast, Tanjiro is what wrestling fans call a “white meat babyface,” or an unabashed good guy. In wrestling, this is often “solved” by having the good guy turn bad, become edgier, and then become good again so that they carry at least a bit of a dark side with them. This literally happened with The Rock, and even Deku has a similar phase—one that certain fans had wanted Deku to reach the entire time. Some folks are just looking for badasses.

All this reminds me of a post I wrote back when Kill la Kill was the big thing. At that time, some fans saw Ryuko as a one-dimensional protagonist because she’s a perpetually angry ass kicker who doesn’t have a grand arc full of character development. She doesn’t change on a fundamental level, and this was viewed incorrectly as “poor writing.” I think a similar thing happens with Demon Slayer, only with a different type of main character. That’s not to say preferences aren’t allowed to exist, but that they are not to be confused with neutral objectivity.

For Tanjiro and other “good boy” characters, the purity of their compassion is a beacon of hope that kindness and love can be enduring sources of strength. The fact that Tanjiro never changes at his core reinforces that power. At least, that’s my interpretation. What I’ve since learned is that others might see that aspect as something bland and in need of “development.” To this, I would say that being able to maintain one’s empathy even as the world grows more cruel is a fine character arc because it is in itself a true challenge that requires adapting and honing oneself to overcome the temptation to do otherwise.