Overall Review: Psycho-Pass

If there's one thing that can be said about Psycho-Pass with absolute certainty, it's that it was an interesting ride.

In the case of this series, like all Gen Urobuchi works, separating the work from the writer is a very difficult exercise. Few anime are so influenced by their authors as Urobuchi's are, and as often as that can be a good thing, it can also become a bit of a limiter on how great the work will actually turn out. Urobuchi isn't really an artist in the conventional sense; he's not interested in making art for art's sake or even for simple enjoyment. What he wants is to use his work to make his audience think, make them question the world around them, and to use his stories and characters as a means to that end. He's more of a philosopher than he is a storyteller, and Psycho-Pass reflects that very clearly in the narrative choices Urobuchi makes. Shaping this series around sci-fi conventions, integrating those influences into his argument, creating a set of avatars for his ideals; these are all conscious decisions that I feel have both positive and negative consequences on the series as a whole.

While there's a lot of discontent with the unoriginal developments surrounding the circumstances of Sybil and Akane Tsunemori's world as a whole, I don't think it's fair to criticize Psycho-Pass for ripping off Philip K. Dick, Jonathan Swift or The Minority Report. The thing is, Urobuchi is very aware that he's basing his arguments on these references, and he certainly expects us as viewers to get it. Despite the plot and action involved, this is really a series about debates, ones that have been ongoing in society since as long as society has existed in the first place. We're supposed to dwell on the same conundrum that these authors and other sci-fi works postulate: how should the social contract be framed and executed? To what extent is it truly worth protecting and following? And just like the series, we're not supposed to arrive at an answer. This is a never ending question, a self-circulating one, and it will continue to be an issue so long as society exists as an institution.

Yet, while it's fine to understand all of this objectively, does that make Urobuchi's work a masterpiece? I'd argue that it doesn't; as a narrative, the lack of strength in his characters and plot resolution really debilitates the message itself. If we can't be brought to understand or care for the characters beyond a superficial level, if we can't be as emotionally invested as we are intellectually, then I think Urobuchi has ignored a hugely important tool for making his ideals stick the way I think he's hoping to do. That's not to say he can't or doesn't use emotions or character development, but I think he certainly overlooks them in favor of his political and philosophical agenda. That alienates us as viewers somewhat; it's much harder to place ourselves in the situation he's created, and thus much more difficult to empathize and see his point, than if this wasn't the case. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed Psycho-Pass for its ideas and themes, and it's certainly a series worth watching of pretty high quality. Ultimately, however, I can't help but feel that with just a little more attention to its characters, Urobuchi may have overcome his past limitations and achieved a greater impact than what he actually did.