A heartbreaking but hopeful story about the tragedy of guilt and consciousness, Oyasumi Punpun (O.P) does not pull its punches when it comes to delivering the ugly sides of life and reality straight to our guts.
Obviously, reality can be much much harsher than what is depicted here; however, what does get depicted is done so in the rawest way possible, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Not at all.
Oyasumi Punpun shows us that, even in the darkest of times, there is support and love to be found, but only if you allow yourself to be at your most vulnerable state.
When reading this, one may feel the presence of something omniscient; an unseen hand moving and fiddling in the background, woving and intertwining and connecting everything and everyone - a force larger than life itself, yet contained solely within the black and white pages of the manga. One may feel moved, restless, disturbed, or even traumatized. One may develop a craving for motion, for love, and for life. The characters are portrayed with such zest and vibrancy that you can hardly believe they're not real, yet at the same time, are neither "good" nor inspiring. They carry themselves independently of one another, yet are helplessly and interminably constructed and deconstructed by the people around them. But most importantly, the characters in O.P are so painfully self-aware, not a moment goes by without them being reminded of their searing flaws and weaknesses - they are too human for their own good.
Yet, as cliché as this may sound, there is light at the end of the tunnel for those who make it. Life goes on, despite all the hardships, suffering, and tragedies. But I don't mean it in a cold, nonchalant way; I mean life pulls you by the wrist and yells at you and tells you to keep on living - because that is all we know how to do, and that is what we should do. Oyasumi Punpun is not a perfect story by any means, but it is this very imperfection that allows us to take a moment - a pause - to consider and appreciate the nuances that make us human. And in the end, wouldn't you agree that that is a redeeming quality in and of itself?