I’ve finished Netflix’s season 1 (28 episodes) of Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End. I finished it a while ago, actually, but for baby-related reasons I haven’t had the brains to finish this post. Better late than never, right?

Melancholy, meditative, meandering… Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End has won a spot in my heart. It is a fantasy adventure that cares more about the everyday personhood of its heroes than about epic plots or dramatic achievements. It made me cry, and laugh, and I love how it manages to be bittersweet and yet feel like one of the most forward-looking and optimistic shows I’ve watched in a while. 

When I started watching Frieren, I consistently cried with each episode. Maybe that was just the first two or three, but it felt notable and impactful. By less than halfway through I was no longer regularly tearing up while watching it. There were still moments of good feels! The story, however, moved firmly towards developing a larger adventure by the time episode 9 rolled around.

Despite that, the show (mostly) remained extremely chill. Even when there was drama or bloodshed, the show’s tone stayed about as relaxed and calm as you could ask for. It feels strange to call this show cozy, but that might be the right word for it: cozy and melancholy and intently focused on character growth. While I was originally watching this with tissues on hand, it grew into something quiet that I can enjoy—quiet with occasional magical explosions.

Note: your mileage may vary. Ley did not have the same emotional experience that I did in the first two episodes. Or, they had a similar enough experience, but it was far less intense than my own. I am not sure why.

Maybe I’m just especially sniffly for stories about grieving the death of a friend. Maybe I’m hit hard by stories about the bittersweet joy of sifting through old memories of friends and loved ones long gone. Maybe I love stories about heroes facing their grief, sadness, regret, love, and feelings of loss, and trying to reconnect or make peace with those old wounds.

Actually, no, there’s no ‘maybe’ about those things. I’m definitely moved by them. This show is very good at digging into that bittersweet mix of grief and fondness.

Having just gone on and on about the chill and cozy nature of this show, I should add that there’s a big tonal pivot at the end of episode 7. Episodes 8 and 9 focus more on conflict and violence, clearly building towards a bigger dramatic resolution. Until these episodes, Frieren hadn’t been the show to watch for glorious battle (though there certainly is some violence at times). Violence still isn’t the show’s new normal—it too highly values introspective flashbacks that deepen our understanding of the characters’ emotional and mental state, and give us the moment of reflection that shows us how these characters continue to grow.

That exploratory melancholy is the show’s heart. Frieren is introspective in ways that I’m not used to seeing in fantasy adventure anime. I know no other shows which make a point of depicting the banality of the epic heroes’ lives after their grand adventure. Frieren goes further than showing that banality, it explores it and the ways in which that banality changes our understanding of the characters’ lives, their heroic acts, and their place in the world after their big stories; the banality is the point, in many ways. That banality, and the heroes’ experience of it, show that the heroes are simply normal people who have done extraordinary things. They have done great deeds. They have felt losses large and small. Their extraordinary deeds don’t make them less of a regular person—and the more our main character Frieren comes to recognize the importance and impacts of the small actions of her now-dead companions, the more we can understand the importance of celebrating our connections with each other in our own lives.

Who is the target audience for this show? Frieren lacks the prurient obsession with the female body that so often characterizes shonen aimed at a middle grade or young adult male audience. It delves into grief and regret in ways that I suspect are less accessible (on average) for any younger audience. This show is heartwarming and meditative. The dramatic stakes of most of its episodes are fairly small. At the same time, it offers a view of heroism that I absolutely love.

Maybe this is a show for middle-aged (or older) people. Or maybe it’s a show for anyone who has lost someone dear to them. Or maybe this is a great show for kids and I’m simply missing the proper angle—I think it could be excellent for kids, I just haven’t had a chance to talk with any of them about it yet.

Regardless, this was definitely a good show for me. I loved it. I hope that you can love it too.