The Internet is already ablaze with commentary on the finale. Perhaps it isn’t very surprising given that the show has proven to be a colossal hit. Jun Maeda, the man who penned love-em-or-hate-em hits like Air and Clannad, has a habit of printing money with anything he produces, with Angel Beats destined to be no exception. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the show generously cherry-picked elements from other, successful shows: high school girls in rock bands; girls with guns; Haruhi look-a-likes; and obnoxious yaoi/yuri subtext stuck in for little reason other than providing doujinshi fodder for the next Comiket.

Yet, underneath all the corporate kowtowing, small flourishes reassured a method to the madness. The most obvious was in the ever-changing openings and endings, complete with post-episode epilogues and the changes corresponding with the characters’ own development. While it may well be a product of Grand Pretensions 101, it showed that someone was giving a damn about the actual content of the story. Likewise, the main story of a set of kids condemned to purgatory showed a certain intelligence and humanistic inclination that was oddly gripping.

What made things even more fascinating is that this was not some fantastical inferno, but instead a purgatory of the mundane. We can question why does purgatory have to be the oh-so-cliché Japanese schoolhouse inside some moe-moe-kyun Matrix, but honestly, this is a show that’s going to be consumed by high school kids and 30-year-old otaku alike. Give the audience what they want and then let the rest of us focus on the actual ideas beneath the dusty exterior. Namely, the initial premise given by Yuri that mere conformity with The System—that is, participating in school life—is enough to make one disappear from even this plane of existence. And that scares the ever-living crap out of everyone. There is believability to this urge to stay in a bad spot even when there’s an exit just because what lies beyond is even more terrifying.

I wrote this already in a lengthy comment on the Anime Diet blog, but it reminded of Darren Aaronofsky’s The Fountain. Similarly, it dealt with a protracted struggle to cling to an uncertain life if only because death was even more uncertain. As in that admittedly superior work, the characters in Angel Beat come to the realization that “death is the road to awe” and that the schoolyard world here is one of redemption, not punishment. Most telling and touching is the revelation as the series started to head into its final act, when it becomes revealed that disappearing isn’t the worst possible fate, but rather becoming an NPC, a literal robot. Subjugation is something to be done by the self, without outside forces.

A criticism that keeps recurring is that it was “rushed.” I couldn’t disagree more. The constant game-changing that happened weekly or even within the same episode kept things moving with a sense of progression, if sometimes schizoid. However, as an Evangelion fan, I'll take schizoid over boring any day.

But, to have made this a 26-episode series would have slowed the pacing down to a trickle and honestly, the central mysteries of the premise were barely holding water at the speed we got them. Sure, it was disappointing in the finale to (not) see half the remaining cast spirited away off-screen between episodes, but ultimately they weren’t the focus of the story. It wasn’t about TK’s nonsense Engrish, Shiina’s love of cute things or Takamatsu’s being an NPC. It was about Otonashi finding an exit for these lost souls who otherwise would be doomed to spend all eternity in their self-doubt.

Great for what it was, Angel Beats is not without its flaws; a lot of forced sentimentality, a lack of development for much of the supporting cast, and the aforementioned feeling that this was designed by committee were there. Fortunately, the faults are outshined by the moments of brilliance and genuine camaraderie with the characters. Even the ridiculous graduation scene at the end brought a smile to my face. Having been through a couple of graduation ceremonies on the Japanese side of the pond, it was both touching and funny to see all the tropes – the school song, the Aogeba Toutoshi song and the final roll call – be subverted in such a way.

Perhaps it’s a case of the right show at the right time: I’m a sucker for all things involving questions of afterlife, god and the search for salvation in an unforgiving world. While some things could have been handled better – couldn’t the irritating Naoi have disappeared after his maudlin Little Stalin arc? – I kept tuning in week after week and, in a time when a show that isn’t burning a hole on my review pile becomes zero priority, there’s gotta be something ticking in there.