Made in Abyss
2017 · 2 Seasons · AT-X / Tokyo MX · Adventure / Fantasy / Drama
An enormous chasm stretches deep into the earth, filled with ancient relics, bizarre creatures, and mysteries that have drawn explorers for centuries. Those who descend into the Abyss discover wonders that exist nowhere else on the surface world. They also discover that the deeper they go, the more the Abyss punishes anyone who tries to return. This curse of ascension grows more severe with each layer, progressing from nausea to hallucination to loss of humanity itself. People who descend far enough simply cannot come back.
Made in Abyss, based on Akihito Tsukushi’s manga, follows Riko, a young girl living in an orphanage at the edge of the Abyss, whose mother was a legendary explorer who descended to the deepest layers and never returned. When Riko discovers a mysterious robot boy she names Reg in the upper layers, she decides to descend into the Abyss to find her mother, knowing that she may never be able to return to the surface. The anime adaptation by Kinema Citrus premiered in 2017 and generated intense community response, with praise for its world-building and emotional storytelling sitting alongside controversy over its treatment of its child protagonists.
The Abyss as a Character in Its Own Right
The world-building is the show’s crowning achievement and the element that earns the most universal praise. The Abyss is designed with the precision of an ecosystem and the imagination of a fever dream, with each layer presenting distinct environments, creatures, and dangers that feel discovered rather than manufactured. The show communicates the scale and danger of this place through visual storytelling that rewards attention. Vegetation changes as characters descend. Light behaves differently at different depths. Creatures become stranger and more threatening the further down the journey goes. Every detail reinforces the central tension between wonder and peril.
Kevin Penkin’s soundtrack is not a supporting element but a fundamental part of the experience. The score moves between ethereal beauty and crushing dread with a range that mirrors the Abyss itself. Orchestral passages convey the grandeur of discovery while electronic and vocal textures create an atmosphere of alienation and danger. The music earned widespread recognition and is frequently cited as one of the finest anime soundtracks ever composed. It transforms scenes that could be merely beautiful or merely disturbing into something more complex, where both emotions coexist.
Kinema Citrus produced animation that creates a deliberate tension between art style and content. Characters are drawn in a soft, rounded style reminiscent of children’s illustration, and the environments are painted with warmth and light that invite exploration. This visual gentleness makes the Abyss feel inviting, which is exactly the point. The beauty of the artwork mirrors Riko’s own enchantment with the Abyss, and when violence and suffering arrive, the contrast between the soft visuals and the harsh reality amplifies the impact enormously.
Riko and Reg’s relationship provides an emotional anchor for the descent. Riko’s reckless determination to push deeper regardless of consequences creates tension with Reg’s protective instincts and his own mysterious origins. Their dynamic evolves under pressure in ways that feel organic, with each new layer of the Abyss testing not just their survival but their trust in each other. Supporting characters introduced at various depths add complexity without displacing the central pair.
Season two, subtitled The Golden City of the Scorching Sun, expanded the story’s scope while maintaining its willingness to explore uncomfortable territory. The introduction of new characters and a deeper layer of the Abyss broadened the show’s thematic concerns to include questions about the cost of scientific ambition and the morality of sacrificing others for discovery.
The Darkness That Divides Its Audience
Made in Abyss does not protect its young characters from suffering, and this is the element that makes it both powerful and polarizing. Physical trauma, psychological distress, and body horror are presented in graphic detail, and the fact that the victims are children makes these scenes significantly harder to process than similar content involving adult characters. The show argues, through its narrative, that the Abyss doesn’t care about the age of those who enter it. Whether that artistic justification satisfies individual viewers varies enormously.
Controversy extends beyond violence. Certain scenes involving the child characters contain elements that a significant portion of the audience finds inappropriate regardless of narrative context. This criticism predates the anime and originates with the source manga, but the animated adaptation, by bringing these moments to life with sound and motion, intensified the discomfort. Community discussions frequently include warnings about this content, and it remains the single biggest barrier to recommendation for many otherwise enthusiastic fans.
Pacing in the first season’s early episodes can feel slow for viewers who arrive expecting immediate darkness and intensity. The show takes its time establishing Riko’s life on the surface and her initial descent through the upper layers, building a sense of normalcy that will later be disrupted. This deliberate setup serves the story well in retrospect but can test patience in the moment, particularly for viewers who know what lies ahead and want to get there.
Reliance on its setting sometimes comes at the expense of character depth beyond the central pair. Some supporting characters introduced in the deeper layers, while dramatically effective, serve more as vehicles for exploring the Abyss’s horror than as fully realized individuals. The emotional impact of their stories is often devastating, but it can feel engineered toward maximum trauma rather than earned through sustained character development.
The Cost of Descending
What makes Made in Abyss linger in the mind is its central metaphor: the pursuit of knowledge and wonder always carries a price, and that price increases the further you go. Every layer of the Abyss offers something breathtaking and demands something terrible in return. The curse of ascension means that every step forward is a commitment, because going back becomes progressively more agonizing. This maps onto real human experiences of ambition, obsession, and the irreversible consequences of choices made in pursuit of something you believe matters more than your own safety. The show takes that metaphor seriously enough to follow it into places most stories would flinch away from.
Should You Watch Made in Abyss?
Viewers who value ambitious world-building, exceptional music, and stories that don’t soften their edges to accommodate comfort will find Made in Abyss extraordinary. If you appreciate anime that treats its fantasy setting as more than backdrop and commits fully to the consequences of its premise, this is among the best the medium has to offer. Fans of dark fantasy, exploration narratives, and stories about the cost of knowledge should consider it strongly.
Do not watch this show if graphic depictions of child suffering are a hard boundary for you, because the show will cross it repeatedly and without reservation. Also approach with caution if you need clear moral framing around dark content. Made in Abyss often presents suffering as the unavoidable consequence of the Abyss itself rather than assigning blame, and that ambiguity is uncomfortable by design.
The Verdict on Made in Abyss
Made in Abyss creates one of the most compelling fictional worlds in anime history and then dares its characters, and its audience, to keep descending into it. The Abyss itself is a masterwork of environmental storytelling, gorgeous and terrifying in equal measure, with Kevin Penkin’s soundtrack elevating every moment of wonder and dread. The show’s willingness to inflict real suffering on its young protagonists gives the adventure genuine stakes but also pushes into territory that many viewers find deeply uncomfortable. Whether that discomfort represents brave storytelling or unnecessary provocation depends on your tolerance and your trust in the narrative. For those who can engage with it on its own terms, this is an unforgettable piece of anime that stays with you long after you stop watching.