Gintama’s Four Devas is one of the most impressively crafted shonen arcs I’ve ever
seen.
While it isn’t at the absolute top of my list in terms of Gintama arcs, let alone shonen
arcs in general, I have a unique sense of appreciation for the way in which it is approached
and for what it banks on in order to succeed.
Because while the storytelling is a bit more powerful and potent in a couple of later arcs
by my estimation, this is an arc that only could have existed in Gintama in a way that
is unique from the plot revelations we’re exposed to later on.
It is where we see the benefits of the eccentric style, and it is the ultimate sense of integration
for the two hundred plus episodes that came before it, as the tiny stories and the seemingly
inconsequential or one-off characters come together to defend the Kabuki district.
I think it’s the best demonstration of payoff in the series up until this point, with all
of the prior elements from more lighthearted contexts coming together in dramatic and emotional
harmony to make it hit as hard as it does.
For these reasons, this is the arc for which I would imagine there is the biggest difference
in quality between those who skip some comedy episodes and those who don’t.
It is quite genius in that sense, and this sort of confidence, ambition and adeptness
in writing drew me to it immediately as soon as I realized what it was doing.
But terrific structure, integration and boldness alone are not enough to turn an arc into an
all-timer by my estimation; for that, it has to go above and beyond with terrific character
work, cohesion and a powerful self-contained narrative that not only works in a vacuum,
but contributes to the thematic impact of the series as a whole.
And that is where the stories of Pirako and Jirocho come in.
Four Devas elevates the narrative in multiple ways; it adds a ton to Otose’s character,
it is the first time we see rabid Gintoki, it contains some interesting political worldbuilding
and it strengthens the bonds of the trio, but the main things I take away from it are
that sense of integration I mentioned, and how beautifully written of an antagonist Jirocho
is - how he was able to elevate everything about this story through his narrative design.
Jirocho is a man burdened by guilt, grief and consequent restrictions that he imposed
upon himself.
As a young man in the past, he was a good-hearted vigilante that protected the Kabuki district
who grew up as a simultaneous rival and best friend to Tatsugorou, who, as a member of
the police, cared for Kabuki in much more traditional ways.
Both men harboured romantic feelings for Otose, and Jirochou ultimately stepped aside to allow
his partner to marry her so both of them could be happy.
Since childhood, Otose was always the one to set him straight and as such, it was said
that Jirochou wouldn’t be the man he was without her.
Clearly he agreed, but he had to bury those feelings and eventually marry and start a
family with someone else.
Regardless, The three cared for each other immensely, and their bonds were the crux of
what supported Kabuki throughout these years.
However, during the Joui War, Tatsugorou suffered a fatal wound while protecting Jirochou from
harm, and in parting, he begged his dear friend to do two things in his stead:
From that point on, Jirochou took and frequently smoked Tatsugorou’s pipe as a reminder of
this.
Of course, he naturally took this promise to heart, but not in the manner that his departed
friend intended.
Having been the reason that his brother in arms died, Jirochou became overriden by guilt
and interpreted his friend’s request as a stifling duty that weighed him down.
Feeling obligated to protect Otose and Kabuki as a tribute to his friend’s legacy living
on, Jirochou took on these tasks not with a positive determination, but a grim resignation.
He distanced himself with others, due to being afraid of feeling that sense of loss again
and thinking that he would be able to best achieve his goals if he did not have the distraction
of human connection.
And tragically, this meant that his daughter, Pirako, grew up starved of affection from
him and lived her life with the sole endeavour of trying to be acknowledged and cared for
by her father.
Jirochou did not let the memory and legacy of Tatsugorou empower him, but instead felt
the ghost of his best friend holding him back from loving in order to protect the things
they both loved.
He is fated to guard Kabuki, and determined to protect both the city and those he cares
about in his own way.
But he shuns all the good in his life through his self-loathing and reductive promises and
doesn’t open himself up to his daughter’s love.
Now, on the other hand, you have the other man who had pledged himself to Tatsugorou,
Gintoki.
A man who owes his life to Otose, and by extension and in spirit, to her late husband due to
being rescued by both in a sense in the bleak midwinter.
Yet where he differs in his resolve to protect is how he views this responsibility.
True to his nature, Gintoki takes on this challenge with appreciation and purehearted
conviction, and though his demeanor may say otherwise at times, deep down he considers
it a privilege and honour to do this out of gratitude and protect those who protected
him in
the past.
WHile it may have seemed like both men were chained down in the same fashion, this is
not true at all.
And this is why the two are terrific foils for each other - contrasting at points that
help to communicate the empowering themes of the arc to full effect.
Jirocho and Gintoki both pledged the same promise to the same man - to protect all that
which he held dear.
His city and his woman.
The difference is that Jirocho is held back by self-loathing and deprecation and bears
the burden alone, while Gintoki values connection and compassion and is fighting to protect
those he loves for the future of him and everyone else, partly due to the help of those loved
ones.
Jirocho sees no potential in the future, he just dwells in the past and destroys the threats
in the present.
But.. what isn’t that way his best friend wanted him to live, and that isn’t at all
what he had in mind when he asked him.
It’s a very emotional concept that speaks of Gintama as a whole.
You can view the memories of lost loved ones as ghosts that bind you to certain things
and prevent you from opening up, or you can appreciate their impact on the world and carry
their legacy in spirit, allowing it to enrich your life.
It’s a connection to one of the main thematic threads in the series overall - the battle
of ideals between Takasugi and Gintoki, and how while Takasugi uses SHouyou’s death
as fuel for rage and hate and destruction in a way that his master would never have
wanted for him, Gintoki respects Shoyo’s memory by ingratiating it into himself, letting
it empower him to protect.
Jirocho distanced himself because of his self-blame, and because after losing his best friend,
the fear of loss was too much to bear.
As such, even putting aside his self-proclaimed cowardice, he believed that a lack of connection
would allow him to operate with efficiency and protect Kabuki.
But this is another key difference between him and Gintoki - because while he does waver
at times and requires the support of loved ones, overall Gintoki’s fear of loss is
overpowered by his appreciation of connection and love, and he lets those bonds push him
onwards.
And in a symbolic proof of this contrast, in what was supposed to be a battle to the
death, Gintoki defeats Jirochou not through striking him down, but by breaking his sword
and pipe.
Of course he doesn’t kill him - he considered it part of his promise to protect everything
that was dear to Tatsugorou - and what was Jirocho to Tatsugorou if not a dear friend?
The destruction of the sword is obvious symbolism, and him telling Jirocho to quit smoking is
another allegory, his way of telling him to move on from this burden and live his life.
This drives the point home, and through example, he teaches Jirochou that this is a much more
meaningful way to live.
However, that doesn’t mean that Jirochou’s sacrifice was for naught.
As communicated by Otose and the spirit of Tatsugorou, Jirochou’s heart was totally
in the right place and he did fulfill the promise and protect the town for these twenty
years.. but it became too big a burden and the man just needed to to be set free and
pass on the reigns to a new generation - to properly be a father to the one person that
deserves his love more than anyone else.
Jirocho’s hardline stance was beneficial for maintaining a peaceful district, but it
was at the expense of his happiness.
And after all this time, he deserved a rest.
Pirako fueled an entire uprising in the hopes that if her father gained total control of
Kabuki, it would lead him to a proper life with her.
It really shows that at the end up the day, underneath the jokes and the murderous threats
and the bloodlust, she was just a sad and lonely little girl who wants to be loved by
her father.
It’s all she ever wanted.
And while he is quite late, Jirochou is all to happy to oblige once he sees what truly
matters.
Kabuki is a melting pot of personality, random nonsense, and most importantly, heart.
And up until this point, the series had been glacially slow in building an adherence to
the city, but for me the montage in the last few minutes brought it all together.
As Jirocho apologizes for detaching himself and devotes himself to Pirako, as we see those
from Kabuki who make the district so special, and as we see our protagonists paying loving
respect to the man who significantly helped make this thriving community possible, it
all integrates into a moment and really encapsulates what Gintama is all about.
And in the final scene, cohesion is once again obvious as Jirochou profoundly admits to Pirako
that he had lost his way, and casts off his self-imposed chains to pursue a proper love
and life with his daughter - truly taking the mantle as a man of Kabuki by living as
these people do: wholeheartedly and with affection.
It’s a gorgeous conclusion to an arc that would not have been possible without the tiny
little steps that brought us here, as we ourselves slowly, maybe subsconsciously learned what
this place that GIntoki calls home was all about - and it all fully merges together in
terms of thematics and emotional soul as the man who wanted to preserve Kabuki more than
anything finally comes to understand the type of place he was protecting.
It’s a coming together of love and appreciation for both the places and people who have impacted
our lives, and for those who have passed who are precious to us whose legacies will live
on as long as we allow them to.
Many thanks for watching.