If I start talking about Kengan Ashura like I can’t help myself because it’s still rattling around in my chest.
Here’s the thing—I went in expecting a brainless brawl anime. You know, muscles, sweat, screaming, punches that defy physics. And yeah, it has all that in spades. But what I didn’t expect was how much it would feel. There’s this strange intimacy in the way the fights are framed—like every blow isn’t just flesh on flesh, but life colliding with life. These guys aren’t just fighting for money or pride. Some of them are fighting for dignity, for the people who believe in them, for the kind of validation they’ve never gotten anywhere else. That’s what hooked me.
Tokita Ohma, man, he is not one of those guys who fights because of justice. He is mean, brash, near beastly. But as I continued to stare at him I was starting to come to the realization that he is bringing this hunger to prove something, not only to the world, but to him. Each time he entered the ring, he had this cockiness and desperation in his eyes and I could not take my eyes off him. It struck me because, on some level, have we not all thought that there is something to prove, even though we do not state it aloud?
However what impressed me more was Kazuo Yamashita- the middle-aged salaryman who finds himself in charge of Ohma. Frankly speaking, he is the one who anchored me to the entire show. And to see this commonplace, nearly invisible man trip into a land of titans and yet discover his voice? That was unexpectedly emotional. There is a scene when Kazuo literally begins fighting on behalf of Ohma--not with his fists but with his belief--and I felt my throat narrowing. It was as though a person suddenly recalls that he is alive, that he is important. That plot remained in my mind well afterwards when the battles were over.
And, by the way, fights are very tough, almost savage at times. There were places where I flinched, such as I felt myself to be hit. But there were moments, too, when I laughed--such as in the silly nicknames, the extreme introductions, the extreme absurdity of the whims of some of the fighters. It is wild, and it is also humanly weird. Since behind all that blood and broken bones, it is only people that are struggling to give meaning to the only language they understand, which is fighting.
When the anime ended, I didn’t just remember who won or lost. I remembered the weight in Kazuo’s eyes, the smirk on Ohma’s face before a fight, the quiet moments between chaos that reminded me this wasn’t just spectacle—it was survival, connection, and identity. Watching Kengan Ashura felt less like entertainment and more like sitting ringside in a world where every punch carried someone’s whole story.
It’s raw, it’s ridiculous, it’s heartfelt—and that combination is why it stuck to me.
Thumbnail is designed by me on pixelLab and other images are screenshot from the movie