Looking back on Orb: On the Movements of the Earth in its entirety, it’s questionable to leave the series for something simple like a review.
Anime is so mass-produced nowadays that it’s almost impossible to watch every seasonal’s new episode every week without losing a substantial amount of your own time—or mind. Whether it stems from not wanting to miss out on certain online discussions or trying to find that next gem that captivates you, we all have our reasons to try and watch as much as possible as anime fans.
Then, rare as it may seem at times, there’s always that one anime where you see a growing crowd succumbing to their own excitement over it with each passing week. And the more you scroll online, the more discussions you see about it. Then, your own interest starts to balloon—this is what Orb: On the Movements of the Earth became.
I will not spoil much, but it’s nearly impossible to write a full reflection, or “review”, for this kind of series without talking about certain specifics. So if you haven’t seen it, I’d suggest watching it first before reading on.
Gaining Traction
For starters—there’s a reason why Orb skyrocketed to one of studio MADHOUSE’s top-rated anime of all time, also the finale ranking No. 1 in both Japan and overseas, according to AniLab.
From a select few fans, and even a handful of historian critics, Orb didn’t have much traction in both discussions or ratings when it first premiered with its first two episodes—but those who loved it stayed tight-knit. It was a positive and infectious community to be part of. Even when it shone brighter near its conclusion, Orb was a candle that never lost its flame.
Whether it was widely popular anime YouTuber content creator Gigguk coming out and saying how incredible it was or famous Japanese video game designer Hideo Kojima posting about it as well, the series started to gain worldwide recognition for more reasons than the main characters could’ve even conjured.
Orb: On the Movements of the Earth was, and still is, an anime that deserves more than a review and all the awards—it needs a full roundtable discussion to pick everyone’s brains and their own personal viewpoints on a story that left us all wondering what we just experienced.
I could sit here and blabber on about the million adjectives that could describe such an anime, but this reflection will have some of those repeated. Honestly, I don’t think there is just one specific way to describe it, perhaps because there are many reasons that vary from viewer to viewer.
Much like our main characters in Rafal (pictured above), Oczy, Badeni, Yolenta, Draka, and Albert, all of our experiences were different in their own, special ways—except none of us will meet a tragic end in real life (I hope).
God created this world, and humankind seeks to understand it. I know of no nobler desire. To succeed in that quest, I’ll pay any price. Even if that price is my life.
Rafal, Orb: On the Movements of the Earth – Episode 24.
The Experience of Orb: On the Movements of the Earth
Orb: On the Movements of the Earth brought a sense of wonder that was bound to the confines of how brutal reality can affect it. It was more than just an anime that you watch and say, “That was good.”
No. You come away from it thinking just a little bit, or entirely, different. Viewers will finish episode 25 and realize how unique of a series it truly was, and still is, in the depths of its writing—whether it was for the plot, the intricate dialogue, or perhaps both and much more.
The simple matter of characters holding steadfast on their view of the world, then being influenced by those they interact with throughout time, was on miraculous and consistent display throughout the story. It never failed to show itself in any of the episodes, and that’s crucial in an anime based on its story more than its visuals—even if the latter was breathtaking at times as well.
Sure, side characters influence every main character in a story in some way, but this was about main characters influencing main characters for the most part.
Whether it’s the lineage of main characters being influenced by those that enter their small corner of the universe they called their lives, or perhaps the opposite, Orb became its own unique world of historical philosophy built with a foundation of emotional curiosity.
The plot was never lost. Its audience knew exactly what was going on at any given point in time. A confusing final two episodes to wrap up what many thought to be a rather linear storyline became what the story wanted us to do in the first place—wonder.
I can’t recall a story I’ve read or watched that’s like Orb in the fact that the plot is rather easy to follow only for it to hit the sharpest right turn narratively possible at the very end. Yes, the series presents its twists with proper development that the audience wouldn’t realize until after the fact, but it’s brilliantly done.
Having watched Orb: On the Movements of the Earth, you almost want to tell people to watch it strictly to experience that ending and give them a taste of something they more than likely haven’t before.
Trying to force pieces to a puzzle that simply don’t belong is something that manga creator Uoto may have wanted to embed in us all along. After seeing a fully grown Rafal, much less him killing someone in the pursuit of knowledge, could be the example of it.
The ending wasn’t meant to be fully understood, as the vast majority of fiction shoves into our faces. Confusion, blended with admiration for the genius work of some 23-year-old who conjured up this philosophical masterpiece, almost left me in a state of shock with tears running down both sides of my face when the screen went black.
It wasn’t because a certain character died, though, tears were definitely shed for that reason as well, but it was because I didn’t want the experience to end. Even with each passing main character, the storyboard was so carefully crafted that if you blinked, you may have missed the really important details.
Orb was no slouch of an anime when it came to giving the viewers heartbreaking moments. At times, it shoved us to the ground, took a dagger to our hearts, and continued to stomp on its pommel until it cleared through our chests all the way to a somber end.
Yet, despite the vulgarity in that metaphor, the dagger wasn’t painful in the slightest. Smiling back at my screen with tears in my eyes is all I could do after watching a dramatic tale that passes down the candle of hope, combating arrogance in the pursuit of truth and universal knowledge.
Teary-eyed as I may have been throughout most of Orb, and through all the posts I have left online about it, I can’t help but sit back and look up at the night sky at the end of each day a little longer now despite months after the finale.
Don’t let the online historians who are throwing raging fits at this anime as they smoke on a wooden pipe in front of their leather-bound novels from god knows what century with English not even spoken today barricade you from experiencing a truly remarkable story.
It didn’t have the oversaturated colors nor eye-popping animation throughout all its 25 episodes like other anime during its run did. But the production staff knew exactly what they were doing with Orb and it was as clear as the sunrise on Schmidt’s face every morning.
The placement of characters in wonderfully crafted storyboards using nature, the characters, and their surroundings as symbolic messages to the viewers is something I haven’t seen executed so well since 86 Eighty-Six aired.
The passage of time used with the moon and sun made evident in the final episode almost felt like a call to the viewer to see if we had picked up on the nifty little details of many that were left throughout the series.
But it’s no serious matter if you picked up on the heaps amount of symbolism or not. The real point is that if you finished all 25 episodes then you were drawn into the story on some sort of deep level.
The great thing about a home-cooked meal from a loved one is that you’ll never forget the taste, the smell, and how they presented it to you. And once the next day came, you found yourself possibly saying, “I would die to eat something like that again” because it was something that stuck with you for life, no matter how many restaurants you eat at or how many other people serve you. That special little thing had some sort of lasting impact.
I think that Orb was the same in a way. Rafal, Hubert, Gras, Oczy, Badeni, Draka, Yolenta, Novak, Schmidt, or Albert—they all were influenced by each other on many different levels but all held their own truth dearly, so much so that most died for it—never forgetting what they’re fighting for.
Orb was the perfect reminder to be excited in wonder. To not ruffle your hair in frustration and discouragement from not understanding something. There lies an explanation in all that exists. For Orb, part of it felt like it was to give us a story in a land of fiction oversaturated by repetitive tropes and settings.
There was no fan service, action was minimal, and it forced some to fight their own short attention spans and need for instant gratification molded by modern media. Instead, it gave us a main character we only knew for such a short time, yet still missed when the final episode ended.
Character Influence
Rafal is one of the most intriguing main characters I’ve ever seen in any form of media. For such a young kid to influence generations after him and to leave behind a trail of skepticism in the main antagonist’s mind decades after his passing is something you don’t see in anime and manga.
And I think that’s the specialty with Orb—to every coin, there must be two sides.
For Uoto to then introduce Rafal as another, more psychotic, version of himself in some sort of epilogue-style conclusion was almost a way of showing the viewer that there are those in pursuit of truth who are no better than those who are in pursuit of those pursuers’ lives. That there will always be a Novak to a Rafal on every blood-stained dirt path that fades into an orange horizon.
That brings up another matter—sympathy for the antagonist. All series long, that dread that seeped into the confines of inspiration which was attached to Novak miraculously faded in his final moments of just wanting to be with his daughter again.
This man that we all hated for the entire series, in his final seconds, made viewers choke up, wishing that he had seen Yolenta one more time. And guess what? It left us wondering if Novak would’ve changed his ways if it meant being with his daughter one more time.
While Badeni, Oczy, and Gras had their own influences in some way, shape, or form that deserve their own discussion, I still hold firm on the belief that Rafal, Novak, Yolenta, and Hubert (who influenced Rafal), hold the most weight.
Final Review – Orb: On the Movements of the Earth
A cliche review for Orb: On the Movements of the Earth isn’t enough, no matter how many perfections and imperfections one points out, and god knows I left out a ton here. The series is an experience that every single one of its viewers will come away with different thoughts on.
No, I don’t mean whether it was “good or bad”—I’m talking about the philosophical underbelly of it all. From sinner’s redemption to barbarian-style preservation, I believe that Uoto gave us a story that shines, not like the morning sun, but an ever-burning candle in a night surrounded by industry mediocrity that was ready to blow it out any chance they could.
I think said candle is also one that those who dive deep into the darkness and the unknown of philosophy have to be wary about, as it is still a flame that can burn anything to its touch—much like Badeni had to experience and Draka showed.
There are plenty of great anime every year, but even more that somehow fail to meet a certain standard for most fans. And yet, Orb seemed to withstand that folly, despite its lack of nominations in recent awards voting.
Many won’t witness said candle like they will a sunrise. But to those who did, it leaves a special place in our memories as the recipients of the best kind of quality storytelling.
But to those who do profit off of any reviews for Orb: On the Movements of the Earth, always remember that 10% of the profits must go to Potocki.
Screenshots via Netflix
© Uoto / Shogakukan / “Orb: On the Movements of the Earth” Production Committee
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