Look at that thumbnail. That is a butt-naked man lying prone in a giant pizza, next to a woman with a turkey head brandishing a pizza cutter, as other masked freaks stand and observe. Dorohedoro‘s grotesquely beating heart is found in its ability to conjure absurd images like this one. I would bet at least half of the manga’s readership was initiated by out-of-context panels, so I hope I can snag a few more curious converts here. And if that describes you, welcome! You should stop reading and go back to the beginning of either the manga or anime (or both!), but be assured that Dorohedoro provides a buffet of the bizarre.

En’s death hangs like a pall over the entirety of the sorcerers’ world. Conceptually, I think it’s neat that they have this instantaneous relay of information after his death causes his fungal infrastructure to crumble. That’s one of many neat wrinkles Q Hayashida adds onto the rules dictating the sorcerers’ magic. Magic systems have become a bugbear of mine in recent years, largely spurred by the glut of isekai and litRPG series with uninteresting and uncreative takes on these powers. Dorohedoro uses magic in narratively and thematically interesting ways, and each new revelation reveals an even weirder side to it. Sorcerers have devil-shaped tumors in their brains that channel smoke through a special organ system, and they fulfill a specific set of esoteric conditions; they become literal demons. That’s sick, and it barely even scratches the depths of body horror this magic system accommodates.

More solemnly, Nikaido’s story shows us the tragic side of magic. Her time-travel powers are a literal black box. She could not fully understand how to use it as a child, and the consequences have scared her adult self away from both exploring and mastering it. The structure of her backstory is a familiar trope in time-travel sci-fi—humans can neither grasp nor account for how the slightest change might affect the future. It’s the butterfly effect. But here, it shows us the kindness in Nikaido’s heart. She hides her powers to protect the people she cares about, and she also holds onto the memory of Yakumo, as she is the only person in existence who can. Although the gore and goofiness may sometimes overpower Dorohedoro, the series never forgets the human element.

Thus, it’s instructive to see En’s clan in disarray following his disappearance. Fujita has PTSD. Ebisu’s uncontrollable giggling becomes tinged with melancholy. Shin and Noi laze around aimlessly and munch on take-out chicken. It’s particularly revealing when Noi confesses her distaste for En, calling him an “arrogant mushroom dumbass.” Not only does she have a way with words, but she also proves again that the factions in Dorohedoro are a lot more complicated than they appear at first blush. That complexity helps sustain its narrative for all 23 volumes, which is no small feat.

After she and Shin hype each other up, the two muscleheads team up with Turkey to “resurrect” their old boss—in pizza form! As a reminder, Turkey can cook up replica puppets that instinctually seek out the person they’re copying. However, because that alone would not be weird enough for Dorohedoro, Turkey’s magic requires her to literally cook them up, which the anime presents in tantalizing detail. Seriously, I am so hungry for a pizza right now. I don’t care whether it has a mushroom man’s ass poking out of it. I would still eat the one Turkey makes.

By the way, Turkey is a trans woman. I don’t know if the anime will adapt that part, so I’m just noting it here and now, in case you needed another reason to love this series.

Truly, there are a ridiculous variety of reasons to love Dorohedoro. This episode alone offers both the grief of loss and the joy of Italian food, and the presence of one does not diminish the other. The series adeptly flits between tones, aesthetics, and character arcs. It doesn’t let up, but I don’t find it overwhelming or dissonant. I wish I could properly dissect Hayashida’s artistic vision, yet I fear it’s beyond my ken. All I know is that she can grasp the firmament. Turkey gets an oversized peel to accommodate her oversized pizza. The sorcerers ride “brooms” that are actually souped-up vacuum cleaners (I forgot about that detail last week). Haru turns her tail into a microphone so she can sing a death metal ditty about how much humans suck. Every scene shimmers with joy and creativity, or it drips with festering viscera. Dorohedoro is the kind of story I wish could go on forever. And with the Cross-Eyes running into En’s cleaners yet again, it shows no signs of slowing down.

Rating:

Dorohedoro is currently streaming on
Crunchyroll and Netflilx.

Sylvia is on Bluesky for all of your posting needs. She loves Hole. You can also catch her chatting about trash and treasure alike on This Week in Anime.