Overlord vs. Slime: Flat Characters

So Overlord wasn’t my thing. It’s not even the OP protagonist, thinly veiled harem cast, or overt wish fulfillment. None of those elements inherently make for a bad story. What it all really comes down to is the execution. The smaller failings of a story early on can really cascade into outright awful moments that should have rang with some emotion. A show like That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime demonstrates much better execution and manages to make the tropes I mentioned still feel enjoyable, even if its not reinventing the wheel. It even manages to make its flat cast of characters more genuinely compelling than this other flat cast of characters. So let’s talk about it. 

Part 1: Isekai and Progression Fantasy

I don’t really think I need to educate anyone on what an isekai is. You can probably figure out what Progression Fantasy is just based on the name alone but, hey, I gotta pad a video. Progression Fantasy is characterized as being a subgenre primarily about the hero’s steady progression in power. Think of a training montage and then stretch it out over the course of a series. Think Dragon Ball, where you can chart so much of it based on how strong a particular character is at any given moment. 

This explains why the ever present power level argument is such a mainstay in shonen communities. So much of the structure in a shonen story centers on the heroes getting stronger and stronger and constantly overcoming their previous hurdles. Plus, in these stories the mental and emotional growth of the characters is often directly tied to how powerful they’re becoming. 

This is why Yu Yu Hakusho ended the way it did. The cast’s overall mental and emotional growth had a clear and fast approaching end, as did the power creep. Where the overall sense of Progression shines is in shows like HxH and Fullmetal Alchemist. In the former’s case, Gon’s end goal of reaching his father is tangible yet abstract enough so that his development can really run any stretch of time. Combine this with a power system that gets more and more complex with each story arc, and you have the perfect recipe for serialized Progression Fantasy. Fullmetal Alchemist, on the other hand, makes it very clear that the end goal of the Elric Brothers getting their bodies back is very tangible. Their emotional arcs have longevity but definite ends, and Alchemy likewise has a strong progression as its explored and has a satisfying ceiling to its capabilities.

So what does this have to do with isekai? A lot. So many isekai stories center around the validation of conventionally useless skill sets, such as deeply rooted RPG knowledge. This knowledge is used as a way of two things: giving the main character a reasonable idea of what they’re capable of so they can assess and improve their abilities, and also giving an easy reason for the main character to steer the story forward at any given point. 

Due to progression fantasy’s high emphasis on analyzing and improving, giving a main character the rationality to do this for themselves makes perfect sense. Many isekai settings are often Dragon Quest-esque and function similarly to RPG worlds, even if the inhabitants aren’t aware of reality’s similarity to gameplay. Sometimes this is played straightforward with the characters simply entering a game world turned real but other times this is played for straight fantasy. In the cases of Slime and Overlord, the manner in which Ainz and Rimuru both end up in their respective worlds sets up two vastly different expectations for what kind of progression should be expected.

Ainz can easily be recognized as an avid gamer. He obviously spent a long time in Yggdrasil before being transported there. He knows the mechanics of the world. Because his relationship to this world is a player-turned-Lich, his previous knowledge set becomes doubly important. With both Ainz’s knowledge of the game and in-game power being carried over, he is already set up to view this world more strategically than anyone else is capable of.

 In short, he’s overpowered and perfectly prepared.

Part 2: The Overpowered Protagonists

The OP protagonist has become a fairly maligned trope and I want to posit that it really can be put to good use and already has been. Honestly, one of the biggest differences between isekai and your average shonen is how often the main character has to lose for plot reasons. Cause, usually, if the plot doesn’t demand it then the main character isn’t taking a dive. 

Goku lost so others could get the spotlight and cause Toriyama wanted to give us Gohan but the Boomers said no. Gon lost hard to give Killua an independent arc and uh… actually, let’s talk more about the Cell Saga. It offers a good of example of what happens when the most powerful character is suddenly incapacitated. It understood that a good story has to ask a few questions when the OP guy is gone: How do the others fare in their absence? What motivates them aside from the main character’s influence? Can they actually make it without him? 

It ramps up the tension of each encounter. Even though death is worthless in Dragon Ball, that doesn’t mean that the realistic possibility of permadeath is necessary to create good character drama. 

Ainz, as we established, is working with accrued power and outside knowledge via game experience. He essentially enters this world at an already meteoric level of power. Rimuru’s entrance isn’t nearly as immediately gratifying. 

What we see of Rimuru before he gets reincarnated is that he was generally nice and well meaning, if not maybe a bit of an asshole. Then he dies saving his friend’s life. Now compare this to Ainz fawning over his loot and think about what this is saying about the character. Actually, no. Not just what is being said about the character but what is the first thought we’re meant to associate with them? 

Rimuru’s sacrifice is meant to display his kind nature and willingness to put the needs of others before himself, even if it’s to his detriment. Ainz, on the other hand, is having awkward romances and appreciating all his cool powerful loot from hours of gameplay we never see. Not that we NEED to see Ainz having obtained these items for this to be better but it certainly feels hollow to just know all  the main character really did here was arrive strong. But the first moment is not nearly as important as the followthrough. . 

Missing friends that might have been transported over to the other world is, in perfect theory, a great character motivation. However, after mulling over his good times, Ainz is then immediately given a super powerful and unwaveringly loyal group of friends to do his bidding. He treats them well but let’s not make any pretense about the royal guard being anything more than a merry band of servants. 

So without trying for very much so far, Ainz is swiftly given powerful weapons and a powerful group of allies. In fact, because Ainz was already familiar with each member of the royal guard there isn’t a period of him actually having to learn or grow in order to understand them. He already understood them because, prior to being transported, they were just game constructs with flavor text personalities. 

Rimuru, on the other hand, comes into this world as a newly reincarnated slime and finds himself already on the bottom rung of the fantasy food chain. Unlike the nigh powerful lich that already knows how his powers work, Rimuru essentially gets a cheat mode that helps him figure things out.

It’s worth noting that Rimuru does actually experiment with his powers and we see him putting his experimentation to good use. While he is still clearly very overpowered, there is a more honest sense to it since we spend time watching him hone it. We never really see Ainz strive to improve his abilities. We see him laying out complicated plans that usually go off without a hitch and adopting more of a mastermind role or maybe uhh- Anyway, we don’t see him train. We don’t really see him grow.

Not to say that Rimuru is a prodigal son of character development but he certainly goes through more than Ainz. He also still manages to feel genuine loss, despite being the most powerful character around. Ainz never truly seems all that torn up about missing his friends and he never really encounters a problem his powers can’t fix or offer closure for. Rimuru can take on the appearance of Shizu but that’s just a sign of his commitment to fulfilling his promise. It doesn’t offer any form of closure either, as the presence of that loss lingers. 

Despite this, Rimuru’s powers still leave him able to fix just about every other problem he comes across in relative short order. What’s more important to the progression of Slime’s story and Rimuru’s powers is that Rimuru’s growth has to do two things: attract new party members and increase the relative status of Tempest as a nation. 

Speaking of party members…

Part 3: Underpowered Side Characters

When it comes to characters that are overpowered, they are sometimes only as interesting as the characters satelliting around them. I think an amazing example of this is the Royal Guard from HunterxHunter’s Chimera Ant arc. In a world full of physical gods, Mereum still stands head and shoulders above everyone else in the setting. He is overwhelmingly powerful even by shonen standards. However, what stands as the  most engaging thing about Mereum’s character is not his overwhelming power but the influence his power has on those around him. 

Specifically, the Royal Guard all grow unique identities and eventually begin making their own decisions in regard to protecting Meruem. Loyalty to their leader still remains an integral part to all of their characters, being one of the chief motivation for their growth in the first place. Their loyalty is tested multiple times in many unlikely ways and it results in Pouf, Pitou, and Youpi being solidly realized characters that are not solely defined by their relationship to Mereum. Instead, they are also defined by their brief relationships with the heroes and also in how they come to differ from when they were first born. 

When compared to Ainz and his own Royal Guard, there is much left to be desired. Loyalty is still a strong aspect of these characters but it feels like the only noteworthy aspect. Albedo’s lust for Ainz never really amounts to anything more than bad humor and bad harem bait. Hell, some of these characters are so singularly defined by their admiration and loyalty to Ainz that trying to critique them just feels like genuine nitpicking. 

When I got to the last few episodes of Overlord’s first season, I was genuinely curious to see if Shalltear being turned against Ainz would come to any sort of dramatic head. Prior to this moment, I had no reason to doubt anyone in Yggdrasil’s royal guard has anything less than fiercely unwavering loyalty towards Ainz. There had never been any hint of subterfuge or even a disagreement with Ainz’s methods that went any further than being exposition fodder preluding Ainz being great. Even Shalltear’s betrayal is revealed to be the result of psychic manipulation, which did nothing to add any depth to her already shallow character.

One could definitely say that because flat characters exist and work that it’s okay for Yggdrasil’s royal guard to be as cardboard as they are but Slime’s characters are flat yet offer more depth and engagement.

Firstly, let’s consider the circumstances under which Rimuru’s crew is born. Unlike Ainz’s crew already being present and loyal at the outset. Rimuru has various encounters with characters that all have different goals from him. Whether their goal is survival, revenge, or just doing their job, none of their paths would have necessarily led them to Rimuru. Rimuru, also, has no reason to really help these people but does anyway because of his previously established selfless nature. It’s just who he is. 

In truth, Rimuru’s party is full of fairly one-dimensional characters. What truly sets them apart is that, despite these characters being flat, we actually get to spend time with them and see why they decide to join up with Rimuru. We don’t arrive in the world with a party already assembled. Everyone has a reason for being around and, again, it may not be particularly complicated but it does make it easier to get attached to these characters. We watch them grow with the main character. We watch their relationships strengthen, which is more than I can say for anything I saw going on in Overlord. 

This all really goes to show that genre is a funny thing. Despite sharing a high number of similarities, these two shows manage to do the same thing at two very different levels of quality. The old adage “the devil is in the details” rings very true when it comes to writing. It’s easy nowadays to watch two episodes of something you don’t like or think is bad and drop it. However, I think it’s always interesting to examine what it means to be bad. How does bad begin and what does it cascade into as the story reaches its climax? How do one, two, or five poorly executed elements of a story really bring down the rest of it? 

Storytelling is hard. I just wanted to talk about it