This piece is part of 2025’s Ani-May, where we are celebrating the imports that played on Toonami and Adult Swim from 1995-2015.
Sword Art Online
Ani-May 2025 Feature
Directed by Tomohiko Itō
Based on Sword Art Online Reki Kawahara
Originally aired on Toonami
by Jonny Kandell, Staff Writer
“Link Start!”
Pop on your “NerveGear” helmet and warp into the servers of Sword Art Online, an anime about a fantasy video game that takes immersion to an entirely new level. The unlucky characters of SAO find themselves unable to exit out of their beloved game, forced into a violent struggle for survival. If their pixelated hearts stop, so do the real ones hooked up to the game in the real world.
Fellow fans of the show may remember it airing during Cartoon Network’s late-night Toonami back in 2014. Aside from satiating my inner gamer geek, it was also one of the first piece of Japanese media I ever took in, leading me to a treasure trove of favorites like Death Note, Attack on Titan, and the great Sailor Moon. Like those hits, SAO tapped into the nerdy, but cool, supernatural tone that many kids (like myself) found themselves drawn to growing up.
On my recent rewatch, I came to see how the show’s not only an intriguing “sucked into a video game” adaptation compared to its peers, but how it also rang the alarm bell for what video games were/are becoming. The show offers a message of caution for leaning too far into tech as a means of both escape and entertainment. I believe SAO’s lessons are now more relevant than ever.
In real life, many hardcore gamers already have accessories resembling the NerveGear. Haptic body suits inflict real pain and VR headsets are all over TikTok Live and Twitch. Even without that tech, most agree connecting further into your favorite game presents like an awesome experience. It very much looks like the series creators understand how players have a universal craving for more immersion and twisted it on its head—giving it a “careful what you wish for” vibe. Perhaps we’re flying too close to the sun with how invested we truly want to be.
The series is a great introduction to the “not-so-distant future” genre, exploring unchecked tech and its many consequences. It begs an inward glance to someone like me, with thousands of hours logged into Super Smash Bros. and every The Legend of Zelda entry. As much as I love these games, and spend more time with them than some humans in my life, I couldn’t help but ask: are any gaming experiences I love worth putting my life on the line for? Allow me to set the scene.
With the Nintendo Switch 2 console coming out right after Ani-May, I was recently tempted to camp out overnight to secure that rare pre-order. On the same night, a wildfire in the neighboring county raged and polluted the air, making it near-unbreathable for people like me with asthma. GameStop had 100 spots up for grabs, and as droves began lining up outside, I fiercely debated joining them. Could I bear the stinging smoke for ten hours overnight, squatting on a gum strewn sidewalk outside my mall just for a chance at a Switch 2? I legitimately made a pro and con list, citing getting Mario Kart World Tour as a reason to undertake the mission. My love for the game clouded my real-life judgment, a popular theme explored in SAO.
Though I was lucky enough to snag an online pre-order, saving me from an awful night polluting my lungs from non-deodorized pits and untamed wildfire smoke, I really considered if the game was worth any amount of damage to my physical well-being. The media we love have more of a hold on us than we’d like to admit and that’s because of the freedom, entertainment, and escapism they offer.
“In this world, a single blade can take you anywhere you want to go. And even though it’s a virtual world, I feel more alive in here than I ever did in the real one,” proclaims main character Kirito, while offering to train a noob in combat. Everyone’s getting along, more players connect their bodies into the network under the guise they’ll be out by dinner time, and Sword Art Online becomes the top game in the world.
Then shit hits the fan.
“Where’d the logout button go?,” is kind of the worst, and last, thing you want to hear when playing a fully immersive, sense-intertwined video game. The show goes from fun fantasy to fucked up real quick, as all players get transported to the medieval town square. A cloaked announcer takes the stage, declaring his eagerness to see if anyone can complete his game at level 100.
“[From now on] if your HP drops to 0, your Avatar will be deleted forever, and the NerveGear will simultaneously destroy your brain,” he says with excitement. “This has been the tutorial. Best of luck, players.”
Then the bloodbath begins, literally, when the first player tests a knife on himself. People start zapping away instantly, their parents having tried unplugging them from the outside and not knowing the ramifications. Everyone is trapped, all lab rats in a cyber cage. Left to fend for themselves, their new community is put to the test. They have cinematic fight scenes in dungeons, wild deaths, and sweet dual wielding action. Some people take jobs and choose helpful careers in the virtual world, accepting their new lives as innkeepers or beast tamers.
Is being stuck in your favorite video game a dreamy paradise or a nightmare? Even if I was plopped into the Mushroom Kingdom, I’m sure I’d start off terrified knowing that an in-game Thwomp could now squish me for real. A lot of negatives spring forward when it comes to being unwittingly virtually imprisoned, but I do think there is some magic to be found in the chaos. Not needing to eat or go to work anymore and being able to game with your friends all day, does sound pretty great once you brush off the ever-present chance of dying. We see how the characters either accept or reject this philosophy, finding joy or pain in their shared situation.
The show should be lauded for its built-out world and undeniably cool premise. The series is packed with powerful moments and doesn’t pull its punches, killing important characters through sword slashes and violent impalements. Most battles cannot be won alone, a lesson that characters (and viewers) should take with them long after screen time is over.
It’s in the first few episodes that the show maintains its footing as an interesting commentary on gaming culture and what we’d give to get ahead in a game. I’ve seen people get indents from their headphones, horrible back pain from being hunched over a screen, or carpal tunnel from quick clicking on a controller, so is it that far off from fully giving yourself over to a game? We’re already devoting our precious time and health to video games. It’s not hard to imagine how much more we’d be willing to lose.
Is this a great show for video game lovers, or is it a full-on Black Mirror episode? Perhaps a bit of both. But when playing games, on-screen or in real life, we have to remember the consequences. You can just as easily immerse yourself in the real world, where an $800 haptic suit isn’t required to feel something true. When my Switch 2 arrives, I’ll be grateful not to be putting on a helmet to go smell mushrooms with Mario and Luigi. I appreciate where we are technologically with video games, and while I look forward to what’s ahead, you’ll likely never find me in a full VR get-up, thanks to the fear instilled by Sword Art Online.
Overall lessons from rewatching SAO are as follows: technology is evolving in a way we can both expect but never be ready for, video game immersion is only going to become more prominent as time goes on, and people being ensnared in a video game by an amoral creator with too much power is basically a headline only five years away. Like Kirito in the show, we can all learn the dangers of wanting to ditch real-world problems with a gaming distraction.
Sword Art Online is about a community coming together in shared tragedy. How life in the digital world can feel both grand and desperate. It’s up to us how we navigate that adventure to get to the coveted next level.
With the death of so much print media and meaningful journalism, it is important now more than ever to support the writers and outlets you love.
If you enjoyed this article, show your support by donating to our writer. All proceeds go directly to the writer. Recommended donation is $5.
发表回复