Misanthropic teenager Lelouch Lamperouge is secretly an exiled prince of the Britannian Royal family living in the conquered nation of Japan. Living with his blind and wheelchair bound sister Nunnally, Lelouch expresses his contempt for the status quo through truancy and by conning dimwitted noblemen out of their money. During a terrorist attack by a Japanese resistance group Lelouch’s chance encounter with a mysterious woman grants him the power of Geass – the ability to force anyone he makes eye contact with to obey his orders – shakes him out of his apathy. Forced to seize the opportunity to wage war on his homeland he will use everything and everyone at his disposal in his quest to change the world. Ingratiating himself into the terrorist group as its mysterious tactical support and de facto leader in the hopes of building a better life for his sister and answers around their mother’s murder. Meanwhile a Japanese boy enlisted in the Britannian military named Suzaku Kururugi finds himself offered power normally reserved for the elite when he becomes the test pilot for the highly advanced Knightmare Frame. The Lancelot – mechanical knight of the empire – is the weapon Suzaku he hopes will allow him to save lives and change the system from within. Having known each other from childhood Suzaku and Lelouch have been unknowingly become archenemies as their paths cross and the scars of the past threaten to consume them.
Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion was an utter juggernaut in the 2000s and reflecting on it years later shows exactly why. There is something for everyone. You have CLAMP’s visual style applied to Takahiro Kimura’s lanky yet stylish character designs, mechs designed by some industry legends like Street Fighter artist Akiman designing the Lancelot, rules-based magic that provides a mystery for the audience and an additional layer to battles, war, political drama, family drama, love triangles, tragedy and comedy. It’s such a unique confluence of elements that avoids feeling cynically designed to appeal current trends. Series director Gorō Taniguchi proved in his under-appreciated 2005 series Gun X Sword that he could weave absurdity and genre pastiche together into satisfying wider narrative. Giving the project a sense of legitimacy and confidence it might have otherwise lacked. The best example of Code Geass’ unique identity taking shape though is the soundtrack and its deployment in the series. Combining jazz, Spanish guitar riffs, sweeping orchestral work and electronica, Kōtarō Nakagawa creates an outstanding list of tracks that define the entire series.
With so many elements stuffed in the series needs to hit the ground running. That confidence in approach shines through in the earliest episodes as the series steadily establishing itself and introducing elements that won’t be fully expanded upon until later. The series operates under the assumption its exciting enough to delay revelations about Lelouch’s past and motivations over the first 4 episodes and that it can wait until Episode 8 for his vision of a counter-Britannian offensive to fully crystallise. That is when his masked persona as the mastermind Zero elevates a ragtag bunch of resistance fighters into the Black Knights – a group who will topple a global empire. This is the type of storytelling you can only embrace when the executives have already guaranteed you a second season. This is why discussion of many core developments and vital characters has been excised from this review.
There are downside to this approach. No episode of Code Geass can be skipped as they all carry significant consequences. However some storylines are left to wither on the vine. Kallen Kozuki, Lelouch’s first ally and the Black Knight’s main mech-fighting muscle, is given another room to weave in and out of events. Even if the focus isn’t on the war with Britannia Kallen is always present. Nina Einstein is Lelouch’s timid classmate undergoing her own arc about her heightening bigotry against the colonised masses among other things. Her arc is so thinly sketch that it’s hard to stay invested. The dropped balls in the juggling act are even more obvious when we get into the Mao arc. It’s delightful little adventure where Lelouch is forced to confront a threat his tricks and strategies are powerless against. And while it is very significant to the wider narrative of the series despite Mao himself having few connections to anything else; the series’ sudden and single-minded focus on this mysterious antagonist put into perspective how scattershot the rest of series can be. It’s odd to have a series allegedly about a political revolution were all of that is put on hold to focus on a completely apolitical threat to the protagonist’s life who has ideology investment in the world.
It would be if Code Geass was about ideology. But as Lelouch puts it in Episode One: “In the end, it’s all just self-satisfaction”.
While little more than a narrative speed bump to illustrate Lelouch’s talent for warfare; the incompetent Prince Clovis ends up being key to understanding Lelouch’s methods and the series. To his family Clovis is a kind man. He’s a bleeding heart patron of the arts to the Britannian colonists under his rule. And he’s the savage oppressor of the Japanese citizens under his rule. In private he is a shallow man who puts his inheritance above all else and will do anything to maintain or heighten his position within the monarchy. Nonetheless, putting a gun in his face fails to shake him. Clovis understands his royal status within the Empire means killing him means losing a valuable hostage and creating a martyr. Therefore putting on a brave front comes to him as naturally as despite his swallow affect. While dramatically overestimate his own value Clovis proves his strength is the ability to changes guises and mask his intentions. Attempting to untangle the man from his performances is pointless. They are all representative of who he actually is. Even when he’s flagrantly contradicting himself and openly lying Clovis is expressing himself and often in ways a more consistent and honest man couldn’t. As Zero, Lelouch is able to break free from the civilian life that has strangulated his ambitions for decade. Speaking with grave importance about righteousness and crusades against the weak he’s never dream of as a citizen or a prince. For in his heart Lelouch cares about injustice yet his own selfishness and narrow focus on protecting Nunnally prevents him from acting on it until he found right method. Unlike his half-brother, the exile-turned-rebel suffers from being unable to meld his identities or fully embrace them. Whatever sincere affection Lelouch has for his compatriots in the Black Knights must be expressed through the commanding and inhuman identity he has constructed.
Lelouch’s second mentor in the art of theatre is Suzaku. While he doesn’t know who is piloting the machine, Lelouch finds his best laid plans derailed by the Lancelot’s first appearance and only escapes thanks to Kallen’s impulsive intervention. The encounter combined with later failures prove to Zero that he cannot use people like interchangeable pawns and that he needs warriors like Kallen and trusting rubes like Kaname Ohgi who are willing to put their faith in his abilities. It also proves to Lelouch that conventional strategy can be overwhelmed by sheer force, unpredictability, and wild spectacle. A technological marvel of the current age; The Lancelot is faster than any other Knightmare loaded with experimental weaponry and capable of dazzling displays of robot carnage. Thanks to Suzaku’s boss and the engineering team keeping an operational the Lancelot is a perpetual reminder that Lelouch cannot be complacent. In an example of how the series builds on itself the white Knightmare is a constant thorn in the side of the Black Knights and a perpetual reminder that no matter how smart Lelouch thinks he is there’s always the chance someone can turn the tables on him. And it is a lesson he takes to heart by embracing increasingly elaborate and risky tactics when common sense would tell him to back down. This embrace of spectacle is the most consistent use of Lelouch’s Geass powers. His ability to compel anyone to follow any order is mainly used for setting up elaborate schemes. Convincing security guards to let him through any door or lend him their car allows Zero to enter a room as dramatically as possible and immediately have the upper hand in whatever conversation he has and redefine the battlefield in was his enemies cannot predict.
On the subject of enemies, Code Geass has a very elaborate, ultimate history setting where the British monarchy successfully crashed the American revolution but were defeated in the Napoleonic wars and the government was forced to flee to the Americas. With the continent as the new seat of power the Empire has maintained many of its traditions and obsessed over their imperial glory days. A nostalgia given new life in the modern age through the development of the Kightmare frame. Terrifyingly highly-mobile mechanical units that invoke the imagery of knighthood while still proving effective infantry against conventional weapons of the modern day. Both precise and destructive, the Knightmare, particularly my favourite design of the series, the Sutherland, split the difference between a tank and an armoured knight. You might have some doubts about the practicality of these hulking figures resting on exposed joints. Thanks to the wheels on the heels, the machines and operates with capacity as ice skaters in particularly adept hands. Being able to travel by rail, swerve around buildings, and even rapidly ascend the series does a good job of establishing these things are a legitimate threat that are also capable of precise targeted strikes in urban warfare. Deployed to crush the enemy while leaving most of the infrastructure intact. And the Britannians need the Japanese infrastructure. Upon rewatching it you realise just how much these marvels death machines require constant refuelling and maintenance. With the conquest of Japan being a method for the Empire to extract resources to maintain this gigantic military force. As both the Empire and Zero see it; Japan is full of resources for an underhanded Britannian to exploit.
Being a war-focused anime series from Sunrise, Code Geass possesses many shades to the original Mobile Suit Gundam. From the brown-haired boy piloting the super advanced prototype mechanical warrior to the reoccurring enemy of the world power being a charismatic masked man with a secret family history and treacherous habits. There’s even a state funeral used to solidify the ideological commitment of the enemy faction. Code Geass updates the conflict of good and evil to focus it on terrorism. For good or ill the Black Knights resistance efforts against the sickening status quo of racial oppression will always bring them into conflict with ordinary civilians. The series is still an unambiguous battle of good versus evil, The Britannian system of unprovoked military invasions and brutal conquest places them firmly on the side of evil, yet the story and character must grapple with some of the implications of this framework in the 21st Century.
In many cases it is through Zero’s theatricality. Once Lelouch finds his footing Zero is open about seeing the Japanese occupation as a symptom of a global problem. He is not a Japanese nationalist. He is a transnational rebel against oppression in all its forms. The good people of Britannia have no reason to fear him so long as they understand their government is the problem. He can extend a hand of peace to all and will strike down evildoers of all creeds in the name of justice. Even combatting other Japanese resistance groups to save Britannian lives. A showman is worthless without an audience and Lelouch finds himself enrapturing idealists and cynics alike. Some like Kallen and the Black Knights find Zero’s promise of higher ideals a way of soothing their consciences when confronted with the worst aftereffects of their war. For the civilians it alleviates their concerns about supporting a resistance movement and gives the conscientious colonists a chance to exercise resistance without feeling like they are condoning terrorism. Others – like the unfortunately pronounced Diethard Ried – see this high-minded vision as a deception to facilitate Zero’s hidden agenda and revel in the pageantry. And ultimately all of them fail to recognise the reality Zero is interested in justice while is also being completely self-centred. Being disconnected from the politics that go into a national independence movement gives Lelouch the ability to use them as he sees fit.
Re-occurring motif of the entire series is that the past haunts the present but can never be returned to. There is nothing except the relentless march of progress. Lelouch consistently frames his war on Britannian as building a new future by destroying the past. And to that end he sees all other factions fighting Britannia such as the Japanese Liberation Front as relics of a bygone age or competition to his dominance. From his lofty position as a new type of leader he owes no allegiance to underrated ideals. In a lot of ways, this is a man closing off all possible alternatives for the future except for the ones he envisions now that he has found a new way to sell an old product. Japan will earn its independence under his wing or fall completely. Those are the conditions. The world must be narrowed into his vision of the future if Lelouch is going to maintain his image as a messianic figure. And appearing grander than a mortal man demands he keep his allies in the dark about his identity, motives and schemes.
Another boy haunted by the past and cursed with stubbornness and tunnel vision is Suzaku Kururugi. Son of the late Japanese Prime Minister, Lelouch’s oldest friend rapidly emerges as Zero’s biggest obstacle on the frontlines. Whether Suzaku’s steadfast commitment to assimilation and social reform represents an alternative to violent revolution or exists to highlight the dead-end of reformist policies as a matter of interpretation. Many characters mock or applaud Suzaku’s single-minded obsession with reducing casualties and redeeming in the system from within. He is certainly the most frustrating person to talk about in the entire cast as his dedication to his idealism is outright baffling and approaches an outright martyrdom complex at times. Though the image of his father looms large in his mind, Suzaku’s views on war are defined by memories from ten years ago where he’d have to walk through the aftermaths of battlefields witnessing the rotting corpses of his people. People who could have be saved if the fighting ended sooner. People who died for nothing when Japan surrendered.
On the surface Suzaku is far more humble than Lelouch for the simple fact he doesn’t believe he can solve all the world’s ills by himself. Instead trying to reduce the amount of combat fatalities by single-handedly overwhelming his opponents. But he is just as arrogant and judgmental. Believing that he can find a better way forward for the entire nation and that the Black Knights merely preach freedom while obsessing over there an individual grievances. The layers of his moral hypocrisy will be unravelled steadily over the course of the season, while Lelouch compulsively lies to everyone he meets, Suzaku is honest while having an endless capacity for self-delusion he is forced to confront. But he always seems to believe that his own advancement within the Britannian military symbolises a great victory and acceptance for his countrymen.
In Code Geass everybody is living under the shadow of one man: Charles zi Britannia, the rarely seen 98th Emperor of Britannia who rules a third of the planet. He makes his intentions clear from the start in a speech that is intimidating enough to overlook is ridiculous hairstyle. Charles is a social Darwinist who believes equality is an injustice that must be countered with intense competition and meritocracy. Competition between nations and peoples until ultimately the strongest dominate the system and build their ideal world, unchained by the weak and pitiful. Despite being a monarch this contempt for complacency also defines his relationship with his children. He finds it very easy to disinherit Lelouch after his wife’s mysterious death because his son was merely gifted power and status through his bloodline. Until they prove their value by achieving greatness in service of their father’s ambition or seeking to surpass their father: his children are nothing in his eyes.
Charles may be an incredibly consistent person on an interpersonal level his worldview is racked with hypocrisy. Because of their nation’s defeat the Japanese are reduced to second-class citizens and denied access to the higher echelons of society. We see this institutional discrimination can be applied retroactively, despite Japan only conquered 10 years ago Britannian artists with Japanese Heritage being immediately disqualified from winning awards. The military is structured to rely on honorary Britannian soldiers and local constructs as little as possible, given them vanishingly small opportunities to move up in the ranks. They are allowed to compete but never to win. If they are frustrated with the system then they need to rise above the pressure and prove their individual merit in the service of the Empire. Which will legitimise this approach and imply the only reason Japanese people aren’t succeeding under this regime is because of a selfish lack of effort. Those who lash out will rise up an opposition, where the ensuing battles will purge the weak from the Britannian military and harden the survivors. When they crush the resistance it will purify the national spirits and further delegitimise additional action.
It’s not just the colonised subjects that are feeling the pressure of living in the rat race. As mentioned before, Charles’ own son Clovis is desperate to legitimise their station out of fear of losing his approval. Britannian purebloods kick down at the colonised masses and mixed ethnicity Britannians to maintain their class position. Knights of Honour enjoy the privileges and prestige granted to them by their titles but are feverishly desperate to earn higher ranks out of fear they could be replaced. The Empire is nest of backbiting vipers enthralled to the idea that only a select few deserve the right to rule. And while Suzaku and Lelouch both disagree with his worldview and express a tremendous sympathy for the downtrodden and victimised: neither the reformist nor the rebel can break free of this line of thinking.
Intentionally or unintentionally their actions continue to enforce Charles’ ideals on a base level. Lelouch’s Geass power is even referred to as the power of a king, something that innately makes him superior to a lesser men as he forces them to obey his orders. He was a hollow shell until he gained the ability to fight back and that power to transcend conventional morality makes him a great figure. This power and right to rule is the only thing that gives his life meaning in his own mind.
Suzaku believes he can chart a path forward for the Empire from within. Proving over and over again that he is an exceptional soldier and deserving of respect because he is able to get results. Yet his rise through the ranks is combination of undeniable skill and dumb luck. He is able to blow past all of the institutional barriers designed to hold him back and also keeping his hands clean as forces outside his control narrowly prevent him from being forced into morally compromised missions to enforce the Empire’s will. Which isn’t proof the system actually works or changing to accommodate him but that Suzaku is the kind of person Charles’ false promise of meritocracy is meant to create, a doomed figure even if he doesn’t like to see it that way.
Each of them sees themselves as sole architects of the future. Not through grandiose political ideas to counter the Empire’s beliefs but a mixture of empathy for the weak and firm belief that an individual’s singular voice can command the masses and supersede all other concerns. Lelouch resents the idea the strong are fundamentally moral but he doesn’t disagree with his father’s view that one man could decide the fate of the world. What he resents is his father’s vision and the suffering it inflicts on others. The exiled prince’s fascination with chess, the Black King is his motif throughout the series, isn’t just a quick illustration of his intellect or strategic planning. It’s Lelouch showing that he will always defines himself by being direct opposition to his father by being his reflection. His opening move being to advance with the king is a life-long expression of his father’s indifferent and indirect leadership style. Yet it also doesn’t embody an alternative. Just the king on the other side who is using the people towards his own ends. As they seek to use him.
In 1970 “The Personal Is Political,” was published in Notes from the Second Year: Women’s Liberation. An essay by Carol Hanisch that called for the issues, threats and violence faced by women in their daily lives to be conceptualised as symptoms of a wider political conflicts. Instead of problems to be addressed in isolation they were part of the same struggle that must be confronted through the collective action of a dedicated feminist movement. Code Geass presents that exact opposite vision for social change through The Black Knights and even the Britannian army. Everyone on both sides is fighting for an individual motive disconnected from a larger project. Kallen is fighting to honour her brother. Suzaku is desperate to legitimise is father’s death. The Purebloods are terrified of losing favour and appearing ineffectual. Even Princess Cornila – a particularly bigoted and ruthless commander – reveals that her approach to conquest and subjugation has little to do with her father’s supremacist rhetoric and is focused on avenging personal tragedies. Code Geass is series about the weakness of lacking a consistent framework within a mass movement.
Zero characterises his rebellion as revolution and justice for the oppressed. But in his deliberate attempt to place himself above mere terrorism means Lelouch talks a lot about abstract ideals and keeps his promises vague so that Zero can become something everyone can project their hopes onto. The flaw in this plan is that the reality will inevitably disappoint them. And it is still just asking them to see the reflections of their own personal ambitions when the look at Zero’s opaque plexiglas helmet as a substitute for constructing a consistent worldview. If Kallen sees Zero a guide to a life beyond the war or Ohgi sees him as compassionate man who believes in true equality then they will follow him to the ends of the Earth. Yet this is an incredibly brittle undisciplined cult of personality that can be robbed of its power by giving the people what they want. Their individual desires, selfish or otherwise, guide them and are therefore able to be persuaded on individual level. And those ideals can change in any direction depending on their experiences. And with their leader providing them material success while avoiding giving them any clues about his identity or plans: infighting is inevitable because the organisation is being built around one single person. A person the audience knows is lying half the times he talks to anyone including his own sister.
This is why Zero needs to inspire awe and takes great pains to delegitimise and humiliate other factions. There cannot be an alternative to his vision. The worst threat to Zero’s plans isn’t that Suzaku could defeat him on the battlefield, it’s that Suzaku could embody an alternative viewpoint that induces passivity among the people and dampens the revolution. It’s that the Japanese Liberation Front have gained legitimacy from a decade of war from veteran fighters are a group he goes out of his way to humiliate and discredit.
The compulsion to march forward and hold true to a specific vision can also been seen in the structure of the series. While bursting with characters and conflicts it can feel like progress is forced forward or withheld unnaturally. While it is core to the dynamic that Suzaku and Lelouch are unknowingly trying to kill each other there are many occasions where their duel secret identities feel like they should have been exposed and their dynamic evolve. Or that they would need to at least placate their own doubts about their bestest chum. Instead those possibilities are ignored. And for the sake of drama there are some very contrived instances dotted throughout the saga to ensure the key plot beats occur at the exact milestones they are needed to happen. Regardless of how natural they feel.
It’s a testament to the strength of Code Geass that all the character drama born those contrivances is all excellent. The final stretch of the season might be marked by no fewer than three of the weakest and most disorienting rating decisions of the entire series. It still builds to an utter captivating and heartbreaking white-knuckle finale that represents the successful culmination of everything the series had been exploring until that point. Zero’s obsession with spectacle finally reaches beyond even his own exceptions. Lelouch pulls the audience into the showdown where everything except an individual’s conviction in their own desire is bleed out until nothing but byronic passion can survive the raw intensity of the closing act.
It has been 6 years since the last time I watched Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion. And it is a series that has evolved every time I have gone back to it. The old flaws are just as noticeable and a few new cracks emerge. But even after making the choice to narrow this piece down to highlight only a few key components there was still so much to chew on and analyse that I had to really contain myself just to remain focused. The series continued into Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion R2. Which will be covered at a later date. As it stands I can enthusiastically recommend the first season of Code Geass to anyone. It’s a passionate drama of young man engaged in simultaneously hollow and meaningful theatrics for the sake of the world that are compelling to his critics and devotees in equal measure.
