I fell down the rabbit hole hard while binging the first two seasons of Alice in Borderland, so captivated by its bloody melodrama I didn’t trust my reaction. Well, after a start that had me wondering what all the fuss was about, the long-in-coming third season ultimately reminded me of the show’s uncommon strengths. Initially feeling like an unnecessary extension, it evolved into a satisfying capstone for a unique project.
For the uninitiated, Alice in Borderland chronicles the survival struggles of a number of innocent Japanese citizens who are mysteriously swept away to an alternate, underpopulated Tokyo. There, they are subjected to the whims of a ruthless gaming tournament, its parameters built around a colorful card-deck motif. A found family of survivors forms, led by quick-thinking gamer extraordinaire Arisu (Kento Yamazaki) and athletic mountain-climber Usagi (Tao Tsuchiya), who develop a romantic relationship during the experience. The end of season two finally reveals the true nature of the tournament: the game players had in fact been trapped in a surreal realm somewhere between life and death. The winners of the tournament return to the real world, memories erased, to resume normal lives.
As the third season opens, Arisu and Usagi and happily married, unaware of their life-and-death struggles in the borderland. But their participation in a study of near-death experience — led by an afterlife-obsessed college professor, Ryuji Matsuyama (Kento Kaku) — starts to trigger troubling memories, and ultimately lures Usagi back to borderland. Bravely, Arisu sets out after her on a rescue mission, triggering an NDE of his own in order to re-enter the tournament, where the perilous games begin anew. Having survived the challenges of the numbered and face cards previously, Arisu — and his hastily assembled new crew of returning players — now must take on the Joker.
For all the charismatic charms of Yamazaki and Tsuchiya, whose central romance remains sturdy, Alice in Borderland loses some of its cumulative infectiousness early in the third season. Part of the original draw was watching the roster of players come together, and apart, and together again, building relationships under the ultimate stakes. The opening turn of the plot break that continuity here, a “forced restart” of the game. In time, though, chemistry does form with the new folks, especially plucky young anime artist Rei (Tina Tamashiro), struggling drug addict Tetsu (Koji Ohkura), abused housewife Sachiko (Risa Sudou), and ruthless yakuza enforcer Kazuya (Hiroyuki Ikeuchi), among others. Additionally, the show’s existential philosophy kicks in as the gauntlet of contests more consistently pits individual desire against the benefits of collective action, which comes to a head during a particularly clever final game. Despite lengthy running times, season three still feels too rushed at six episodes to earn all its emotional beats, nor does it succeed fully in its ambition to string together one gut-wrenching trolley problem after another. The finale may also overplay its hand running out the series’ clock, with fan-servicey cameos and a pointless coda that seems tacked on as potential sequel bait. But given the inherent difficulties of extending the stories of its protagonists from where season two left off, it’s a commendable effort to send off a memorably fantastical survival tale.
