Alice in Borderland is a Japanese Netflix series based on a manga of the same name by Haro Aso, which in turn is based on Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland. The parallels between the two lands are thinly veiled — the protagonist Arisu (a Japanese transliteration of Alice), is taken unwittingly to a post-apocalyptic version of modern Tokyo, where he meets many other thinly veiled allegories of Carroll’s characters. Of course, if that were it, then AiB wouldn’t be such the hit that it is. Borderland is a harsh world with a myriad ways to die, and none of them peaceful. To stay alive, the characters need to literally play by the ruthless rules of the world. If you’re not ready to see gore, then this show is not for you. If you are, then don’t worry — this review won’t spoil anything.
Overall, the first two seasons are one coherent and continuous story based on the main manga, with the same characters running through both. Most episodes focus on a creatively-constructed game that the characters are forced to play. Some are collaborative, some are competitive, and some are just tests of luck or athleticism. However, all of the games have simple rules which the audience is frequently reminded of, keeping it easy to understand and follow along. One rule is always the same — lethal outcomes for those who lose. The whole thing is administered by cold computerized voices and screens displaying pictograms, with the same amount of personality as the Tokyo subway system, executing those who fail with deadly machine precision. The impersonal and uncanny nature of it all makes things even more terrifying.
Unlike Squid Game, this is no contest. Whether to work with or against others is completely up to the player. The protagonist, Arisu, is a gamer in the real world, and he turns out to be pretty good at Borderland games, too. He refuses to accept that anyone should have to die for another’s survival, and this quickly earns him the audience’s adoration. Throughout the story we meet other exceptional characters. Fans took a strong liking to the aloof but brilliant Chishiya, though I found him abrasive and unlikeable for most of the story. My personal favourite was the badass Ann, and I’m allowed to admit this because I don’t have a girlfriend yet. No game is truly safe, but the best players make most of them look like a breeze, only for things to escalate to ever-increasing difficulty in the second season. To compensate, the show begins to rely on unbelievable plot armour to keep characters alive, which spoils the adrenaline rush in otherwise peak action moments.
In the show, we are taken through a tourist’s itinerary of iconic locations in an eerily empty Tokyo, all transformed into arenas for the various games. However, the purpose of Borderland, and the possibility of escaping it, are anyone’s guess until the very end. This uncertainty drives the narrative by bringing hope to both characters and audience alike, in an otherwise hopeless situation. It’s why I like AiB but could not care less about Squid Game, despite their surface-level similarities. The curiosity is finally (mostly) answered in the season 2 finale, in which the story wraps itself up while expertly toying with the audience’s emotions. However, that wasn’t enough for Netflix, so they had to slap on a cliffhanger in the final minute that left many fans worried they were venturing into potentially-unwarranted-sequel territory. I was one such fan, but I was excited for season 3 nonetheless.
As promised, season 3 then ventures into potentially-unwarranted-sequel territory, putting more characters into Borderland again. This time, the audience’s curiosity has already been spent; there are new questions to be asked, but I could not summon the ability to care about their answers. The season wraps itself up in a quick 6 episodes with barely any development of the new characters, then concludes with a hasty final showdown in which one confusing and underdeveloped thing is repeatedly replaced by another. Beloved characters from seasons 1 and 2 reappear, mostly for brief cameos. Then, the final scene cuts away to California, where we are left with yet another cliffhanger for an AiB spinoff in America, that literally nobody asked for. We’re deep in potentially-unwarranted-sequel territory now!
Besides mishandling the intrigue, the other problem with season 3 was the games themselves. A lot of fun of watching AiB is imagining yourself in the games. Most viewers quickly realize that they would be dead within a game or two, elevating the awe when someone pulls off an unthinkable clutch play to survive time after time. The sacrifices and risks the players take along the way define who they are. A clever, athletic, or cunning viewer is occasionally rewarded with the realization “I could actually survive this one too!"" when a game happens to focus on something they are good at. Over the course of seasons 1 and 2, the audience is given the expectation for a gradual upping of the ante with each new game. However, the games in season 3 seemed to fall back to basics. Many had solutions that I figured out while sleep-deprived and paying only half of my attention. It didn’t feel rewarding so much as it felt like an insult to watch as the characters proceeded to still screw everything up by being dumb as bricks.
Overall, seasons 1 and 2 easily earn 4/5 ratings from me, and season 3 is a solid 2/5. I’d recommend Alice in Borderland to anyone who likes Tokyo, gore, or metaphysical musings about death. As harsh as I sound about season 3, it was still nice to see more AiB, even if it contributed little to the series. It didn’t elevate things, but it also didn’t ruin anything, and that’s something to be grateful for. If you don’t care for it, you can probably just skip it and still be fine for season 4. And I would still rather there be a season 4 than nothing, even if it is an Americanized Los Angeles edition. I just won’t be in as much of a rush to watch it.