If you’re big on the internet, like most people are in 2017, you might have heard of Neo Yokio, the new Netflix anime created by Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig and starring Jaden Smith.

Neo Yokio follows Kaz Kaan, a young neo-riche (nouveau riche, basically) magistocrat (demon hunter) who’s had his heart crushed by someone who broke up with him to move to San Francisco. After Kaz performs an exorcism on fashion blogger Helena St Tesoro (voiced by Rookie founder Tavi Gevinson), Helena renounces the capitalist society that made her famous — the society that Kaz and his friends love.

It sounds silly and fantastical, and while it is those things to a degree, it’s far more in-line with neurotic comedies like Frances Ha or the films of Wes Anderson than traditional anime or fantasy. 

As far as Netflix’s original content goes, Neo Yokio one of the riskier projects the streaming service has backed. The animation isn’t particularly flashy, and the stars, while big — aside from Smith, Susan Sarandon, Jude Law and Steve Buscemi also play key roles — are all voice actors, meaning that the show doesn’t have the advantage of audiences watching just because they see a familiar face. Basically, Neo Yokio isn’t a project that could survive on hype alone — without brains, the show is dead in the water.

And here’s the unfortunate thing about Neo Yokio: a lot of people don’t think this show has any brains at all.

It’s More Than Jaden Smith’s Twitter Account

Neo Yokio has a 30 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes. The Daily Dot called it a “bad, clunky vanity project”. Geek.com told its readers to “watch Archer instead”, which gives you a pretty good indication of just how bad they thought it was. The critiques of the show aren’t focussed on one specific element. Critics have taken issue with everything from the show’s animation to the voice acting to the plot to the social politics.

So, naturally, you might be a bit put off watching. But you shouldn’t be, because I think Neo Yokio is one of the smartest, weirdest, most inventive shows in recent memory. It’s got issues, but nothing’s perfect — especially not in its first season (think back to the start of Parks and Recreation and 30 Rock!).

A lot of the criticism of Neo Yokio has focused on its protagonist, the Jaden Smith-voiced Kaz Kaan. Kaz is a unique figure — he’s a purple haired demon slayer who wears suits, loves Toblerone, and sounds like a Plato tweetbot whenever he opens his mouth. The Mary Sue described him as a “bubble-headed rich idiot” while Polygon felt that he was nothing more than a cheap imitation of Jaden Smith’s Twitter.

the unexamined life is not worth living, my friend

— Neo Yokio (@NeoYokio) September 29, 2017

To dismiss Kaz as either of those things would be simplistic. Kaz is intended to be an unlikeable character. He’s a narcissist, he’s rude to his friends, and he only cares about fashion. But Kaz’s shitty behaviour is almost always problematised by the show itself through the characters of Charles, Kaz’s robot butler, or Helena.

While Kaz’s character is obsessive over status symbols, such as his tuxedos or his position on the Times Square Bachelor Board, these character traits aren’t unfounded or unjustified. We’re told from the start that the magistocrats (Kaz’s people) were oppressed until recently. It makes sense that Kaz has complete meltdowns over the colour of his suit or his position on the Bachelor Board — his position in society is tenuous, and so he’s desperate to hold onto it at all costs. Similarly, when Helena renounces capitalism, it makes sense that Kaz — who hasn’t grown up in a rich family like Helena — is reluctant to give it up.

Kaz was undoubtedly inspired by Jaden Smith’s Twitter account, but there is depth and nuance to the character beyond that. Part of the joy of Kaz’s character is seeing him develop from a moody teen who spouts barely coherent sentences about fashion to, well, a moody teen who spouts slightly more coherent sentences about fashion.

Embrace The Crazy

As fun as the show is to watch for its cleverness, it’s also just a blast because of the absurdity of its humour. The show devotes a bizarre amount of time to the discussion of caprese cocktails and Toblerone bars, and there are some incredibly niche gags which range in topic from classic anime to the contemporary classical composer Nico Muhly. The national anthem of Neo Yokio is William Blake’s ‘Jerusalem’.

It’s a weird show, and the comedy is often skewed to a very small audience, which may be why so many critics are turned off; the density of the references are hard to grapple with at times.

Among critics of the show, there seems to be an assumption that very little in Neo Yokio is done knowingly, or that the show’s creators are too invested in the themes themselves to properly satirise them. In many ways, it feels like the criticism Vampire Weekend first received when they started making music a decade ago — the band’s naysayers thought four preppy Columbia grads couldn’t possibly skewer upper-class New York life, so they took the band’s lyrics at face value.

It would be a tragedy if Neo Yokio was remembered only as a silly vanity project, or as a spineless attempt at satire.

It’s probably also worthwhile for me to say how you should be watching it too. Obviously the beauty of Netflix is that you can watch at your own pace, whether that’s bingeing or watching sporadically, but Neo Yokio thrives if you can absorb it in small doses. I’ve found that the show is better digested bit by bit.

I watched one episode of the show every day or every two days for about a week (there are six episodes in its first season), and found that it was a good way to wrap my head around the absurdity of it all — it’s important to remember that the show was initially conceptualised as a more traditional weekly TV show rather than a bingeable Netflix show. The episodes are only short, but the show’s bright palette and unique vernacular means that it can be a lot to take in at one time.

Sure, it’s dense, and dumb, but it’s also brilliant. Give it a shot.

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Neo Yokio is streaming on Netflix now.

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Shaad D’Souza is a freelance writer from Melbourne. Follow him on Twitter here.