Anime, Storytelling, and Ideals: Reviewing Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

 

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 At the end of 2023, I unintentionally embarked on an anime journey. It all began with Netflix’s One Piece live-action adaptation, something I watched purely out of curiosity. As someone who is deeply fascinated by cultural artifacts, particularly those adapted from other mediums, I was eager to explore the original source material. While I’m not yet ready to dive into manga, recognizing that it requires a different type of reading than I’m accustomed to, I did begin watching the One Piece anime. And so, my anime journey began.

Now, just over a year in, with a fair number of anime series under my belt, I find myself wanting to reflect more deliberately on the shows I watch. One of the most compelling aspects of anime for me is its approach to storytelling—not just in how it differs from Western narratives but in how it presents deeply layered explorations of human and social conditions. Some series have made me think more critically about morality, power, and justice, while others have unexpectedly pushed me to reflect on my own spirituality. Anime has also provided nuanced perspectives on romance, gender, and sexuality, often in ways that challenge or expand beyond Western conventions.

For instance, I have found that many romance anime avoid the immediate, high-stakes drama that dominates Western narratives. Instead, they lean into a kind of emotional slowness, where characters’ feelings and reasoning are fully fleshed out over time. Similarly, anime’s world-building is often unparalleled, able to craft intricate societies, histories, and power structures in ways that make them feel tangible, immersive, and emotionally impactful.

With all of this in mind, I have decided to start a new series of reflections, where I explore the themes, narratives, and social commentaries of the anime I watch. Given the increasingly volatile political and economic climate we are living in—one marked by heightened conservatism and ideological battles—I also want to consider how anime speaks to these broader issues. At its best, anime provides us with rich perspectives on the human condition, justice, power, spirituality, and the ways people navigate the structures that govern their lives.

To begin this series, I am starting with Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood – A Story of Idealism, Power, and the Limits of Human Nature

Without revealing too much of the story, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood takes its audience on an intricate journey, weaving together character exploration, philosophical questions, and high-stakes action. However, the pacing, especially towards the end, can feel jarring. The series spends considerable time building the world, establishing the brothers’ quest, and exploring the larger implications of the Philosopher’s Stone. We see how their pasts shape their present goals, the larger conflicts involving the Homunculi and their father, and the world that they are trying to save. Yet, despite all this careful buildup, the transition to the final battle feels abrupt. After spending so much time establishing the stakes, the series rushes into its doomsday scenario, leaving little time to fully explore the emotional and personal stakes for the characters.

For me, this pacing issue is further compounded by the lack of deeper character development in the final act. While the brothers, Edward and Alphonse, are clearly strong-willed and self-assured, the narrative doesn’t give them the space to grow in the way that many other characters do. The complexity of their journey feels underexplored in terms of internal transformation. There is a sense of superficial growth, but we don’t see the brothers face challenges that deeply push or change them. It’s not that they lack moments of introspection or strength; it’s that the pacing and plot often pull the focus away from allowing their inner struggles and reflections to unfold in a meaningful way.

One character who stood out to me was Ling Yao, a prince from Xing who becomes embroiled in the conflict over the Philosopher’s Stone. Ling’s strong sense of self and internal resistance against being taken over by Greed is a highlight in the series. While his storyline isn’t as fully fleshed out as it could have been, his moments of introspection and moral conviction reveal a depth that contrasts with the fast-moving events around him. His journey of reconciling his ambition with his moral compass offers a poignant counterpoint to the otherwise action-driven narrative. Watching him battle not just external foes but his own internal struggle provides a complexity that enriches the story, even if it’s not given the time it deserves.

In my personal anime rating system, I categorize shows based on how invested I become in them. A three-star rating means the show was mid—neither particularly gripping nor unwatchable. A four-star rating signifies that I enjoyed it but wasn’t fully engrossed. A five-star rating, however, is reserved for anime that deeply pulls me in. Those are the stories and characters that stay with me months later. By this metric, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood falls into the four-star range. I have enjoyed the journey, but I have not been deeply invested in the characters. No one, in particular, stood out to me as someone I will carry with me beyond the series.

However, what has intrigued me is the show’s exploration of human nature, our simultaneous capacity for good and evil, and the idealistic belief that, in the face of power-hungry authoritarianism, unity and selflessness will ultimately prevail. This was most poignant in episode 10, part 5, “A Fierce Counterattack,” when the best alchemists are fighting the homunculus who seeks to become God. They are at the end of their strength: wounded, exhausted, seemingly depleted. Then, in a moment meant to be moving, reinforcements arrive, soldiers ready to fight, even at the cost of their lives. It is a familiar anime trope, the last-minute arrival of backup, the push beyond one’s physical limits, but it also speaks to a larger theme. The story suggests that even in the darkest moments, when power is centralized in the hands of the worst actors, humanity’s better nature will come together in resistance. It is an endearing sentiment. But is it realistic?

There is something about Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood that feels too neatly divided between good and evil. While the show acknowledges human selfishness and moral compromise, it still operates within a framework where unity and righteousness win the day. The antagonist’s strategy relies on people succumbing to their worst impulses: greed, selfishness, and fear; while the protagonists bank on the power of sacrifice and collective resistance. It is a comforting narrative, but it also feels somewhat simplistic. It affirms the belief that, ultimately, the good in people will outweigh the bad, which is a nice idea but not necessarily reflective of the complexities of real-world power struggles.

That’s not to say the show doesn’t engage with moral nuance at all. We see internal divisions within the military, some support the authoritarian regime, while others turn against it. There is an ongoing tension between duty, self-preservation, and personal ethics. However, the broader story still leans toward an idealistic resolution, where unity in the face of oppression is enough to shift the tide.

One aspect of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood that I do find compelling, though, is its generational theme. There is a clear dynamic between the young protagonists, full of idealism, vision, and moral clarity, and the older characters, who are often more world-weary, cautious, or cynical. Many anime explore generational conflict in this way, showing how younger characters push for change while older ones navigate the weight of past compromises. In this series, that tension is evident in how the younger generation is positioned as the catalyst for a new future, while the adults around them grapple with the consequences of their own past choices.

Fullmetal Alchemist is a series that, for all its incredible storytelling, complex characters, and intricate world-building, has an ending that can leave viewers with mixed feelings. Two major themes in the conclusion stand out: the resolution of Edward and Winry’s relationship and the exploration of Scar's people's tragic history.

Firstly, Edward’s relationship with Winry is one that has been alluded to throughout the series, but the way it wraps up feels somewhat unearned. Edward's often cheeky and dismissive attitude toward Winry throughout their journey doesn’t really set the foundation for a relationship that feels fully realized by the end. While the brothers’ childhood rivalry about who would end up with Winry adds an interesting layer, it doesn’t quite explain why the outcome evolves the way it does. The resolution seems more like an assumption based on their shared past rather than a relationship that has been thoughtfully developed over the course of the story.

On the other hand, the arc involving Scar and his people is much more poignant. The series explores the complex history of Scar’s people, who were victims of genocide—an exploration that speaks to larger issues of racial oppression and exploitation. This arc ties directly into real-world conversations about the exploitation of marginalized communities, particularly in relation to colonialism and the legacy of enslavement. Fullmetal Alchemist does not shy away from these themes, but there’s a sense that the resolution feels too neat and idealistic, as though the gravity of these issues isn't fully explored or acknowledged in the ending.

Ultimately, the philosophical statements that close out the series, while meant to be profound, often come off as forced, particularly when they try to wrap up deep themes with simplistic resolutions. It's clear that the series wants to provide closure, but some of the conclusions, especially in regard to relationships and the societal issues it touches on, feel overly idealistic and fail to do justice to the complexity of the story's themes.

Overall, I think Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood is a strong series with compelling themes, but it does not quite push into the level of depth I personally look for. I appreciate the narrative, but it does not challenge my biases in the way that truly thought-provoking stories do. In many ways, it reinforces the idea that humanity’s better nature will always overcome its worst. And while that is a hopeful message, it is also one that simplifies the complexities of power, oppression, and resistance.

With that said, I did enjoy the show, and I appreciate what it offers. It is well-constructed, narratively satisfying, and explores questions of morality in ways that make it a staple of anime discourse. It just does not quite land in the realm of unforgettable for me.

Next, I will be reflecting on another anime—one that resonated deeply with me. Stay tuned.