The following contains spoilers for all four episodes of Housing Complex C, which aired on Adult Swim, as well as brief discussion of suicide.
When the trailers for Housing Complex C first aired, fans were intrigued by the sense of mystery at hand. It promised a supernatural drama, mixing in elements of horror and the psychological thriller genre. In the process, it truly evoked a sense of fear and dread. Many likened the mood and overall atmosphere to a Junji Ito property, which is one of the biggest compliments a manga or anime could receive.
The story doesn’t start off badly, hinting at a macabre entity haunting an apartment complex in Kurosaki, Japan. As Kimi and the denizens begin wondering why people are going missing, though, the journey trudges along with no progression, leaving fans wondering how dense the final two episodes would be. Admittedly, the fact that this adventure is just four episodes should have been a red flag, as the series was playing with a lot of folklore off the bat. Still, hope was maintained — but as major problems unravel n the conclusion, Housing Complex C transforms into an all-time stinker.
Housing Complex C Packs Too Much Into Four Episodes
Housing Complex C’s premiere sets the mystery up well; unfortunately, Episode 2 hints at issues with the story, driven by how the malevolent force isn’t revealed and the uncertainty of whether people are actually dead. It leads to Episodes 3 and 4 rushing a lot of plot in, and sadly, what ensues feels like a ton of narrative and exposition that needed 8-10 episodes to truly digest. After all, emotional connections are important, so to quickly pack in that Kimi’s a vicious sky-god in disguise — and how a cult is trying to revive another god — there’s no time to really feel for any of the folks involved.
From the missing victims to the detective in Taka to the protectors in Koba, everyone just feels like set decor. When they’re all eventually killed, there’s no resonance; it’s all done just to paint Kimi as Iyoyoloki Soyohosu, and the Koshdies as cultists wanting to raise her progeny, the sea-god Kuzululu. The fact that Taka ends up revising the entire region’s beliefs in the finale is ridiculous. It reshapes the war that ancient soldiers fought, the religions that clashed, what the gods did, and how the land became a time bubble that Kimi experimented in. More time was needed to paint the differences both gods had with humanity, how an offspring came about, and why they disappeared.
Housing Complex C doesn’t even address the fish monsters Taka sees, which would have lent to Kuzululu trying to take ahold of the land. As Taka finds more secrets and redefines the camp, it’s honestly hard to think of such a retcon as palpable, with a hefty portion of history being rewritten in just a few minutes. Viewers must unlearn much of the lore, just to absorb Kimi’s intentions and why Taka decided to take his life. It’s like discovering The Matrix exists in the final few minutes of that movie, and then a reset happening to suddenly end the flick — which is effectively what the nihilistic Kimi does to punish the society for being violent in what falls flat as a cynical, existential ending.
Housing Complex C Doesn’t Explain Its Characters’ Motivations Well
Housing Complex C’s second problem creeps in with the characters’ motivations. The Koshides initially bring Middle-Eastern immigrants in, but Episodes 1-3 don’t paint the family as shady. In fact, they’re all accounted for when all the crimes happen and even fall sick, hinting that the mental stress and physical fatigue everyone’s enduring is getting to them. Yet the finale shapes them as villains for shock factor, having them slaughter folks as sacrifices for Kuzululu. What sums it up is when Yuri stops her parents from murdering Kimi, only to then try to do it herself.
Had some foundation been laid to tease a rivalry or a religious past — or Yuri being torn with Kimi as a sister-like figure — it may have felt more natural to the plot. To top it off, Kimi’s actions don’t add up, because she suddenly switches from scared young girl to this demonic being who apparently knew everything happening all along. It’s why she turns bodies into moss, wanting to avoid panic.
But Kimi literally being frightened in human form is never explained. Nor are the reasons why she has a plant embryo for a mom, why she wouldn’t dispatch the Koshides immediately if she’s an all-seeing, all-knowing god, or why she’d let Taka follow a path that would bring his demise. Again, it feels like a split personality — which would have been acceptable had it been explained as Kimi toying with everyone like a puppet master, or hoping to see the best people worthy for her new world.
Unfortunately, the message of Kimi using this bubble as a test doesn’t land. In addition, Wada’s xenophobic arc with the Islamic tribe doesn’t get proper closure, as it’s never divulged why they’d suddenly take to her kindness and how her old superstitions caused a change of heart. As all of this gets packed into the final two episodes, it’s clear a lot more room was needed as these bits change the complexion of the entire show. Throw in how Koba still tries to defend Kimi like a daughter — when Taka was really the father-like figure to her — and why Kimi decides to erase the abused immigrants after manipulating them, and Housing Complex C just feels disconnected.
Housing Complex C promised so much but vastly under-delivered, creating this convoluted hodgepodge. The action was underwhelming too, so it’s not as if it had style to compensate for the lack of substance. Throw in how boring the drama was and the lack of cerebral nuance, and this anime really ends up being a chore that tried to paint a Cthulhu-like pantheon, only to fizzle out in unremarkable fashion.