Imagine there were a pill capable of erasing all pain—would you take it?
If your answer is “yes”, then you have accepted a subtle and deceptive gift from the devil—or, rather, from Dr. Skinner.
It’s called Hapna, and for years it has granted you peace and serenity, but in 30 days, it will change its nature and become death. There is a solution. But guess what? Skinner is the one who holds it. The catch? You have to find him first.
This is the premise of Lazarus, through which Watanabe presents a story centered on a simple question: What is the point of living in a world that appears perfect, yet is actually crumbling beneath our feet?
From a technical standpoint, the direction is clean and precise, while the action sequences—crafted by Chad Stahelski—cut with the sharpness of a blade.
And yet, something is missing. The characters live—or rather, they exist—brimming with nuances, wounds, and stories to tell, but these threads are always cut short just as they become most compelling.
Take Eleina, for instance—a tormented, complex figure. The little we see of her is enough to spark a host of questions, which are then left to languish in silence.
On a more positive note, the soundtrack is splendid, intense, and perfect. It resonates with the visuals, amplifying the emotions—perhaps the most sincere voice in the entire work.
… Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer, The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them…
Shakespeare – Hamlet
