I have to say, while my decision to review Human Vapor was one part random to two parts connection to Ishirō Honda, I’ve actually become exceedingly pleased that I picked the show out of the chaotic miasma of the Netflix algorithm. Not only has it been a cool sci-fi thriller with a memorable antagonist, but I was surprised at how deep into it’s conspiracy plot it delved, as it was dredging twists and revelations out of the entirety of the lives of its hapless characters. Well, it looks like even a Human Vapor has to disperse sometime, because we’ve now reached the eighth and final episode of the season.
With all the dirty secrets and hidden plots now out on the open, how will the show bid goodbye to such a complex cast and an even more complex plot? Well, one thing’s for sure, I’d certainly thought there’d be more Human Vapor in it – but even if the titular cloud-boy is working part-time throughout this finale, it turns out the show has a far greater resource to draw from in order to make this a very fond farewell. It’s cast.
Despite the fact that the incredibly corrupt Miura is seemingly in control of the Human Vapor, that doesn’t stop Kyoko and Kaho looking on in shock as the non-corporeal killer decimates his political offices. However, it seems that in his quest to become governor of Tokyo, Miura isn’t afraid to play dirty. Ordering the Vapor to attack his offices and kill a couple of workers (while giving orders that he himself is not to be harmed), he can flip the manufactured tragedy into something positive and pull ahead in the race as the time ticks away.
However, Kyoko has had something of an audacious plan that means both she and detective Kenji will have to place themselves in grave danger. Discovering that one of Kaho’s late brother’s discarded cameras caught Miura giving the Vapor his terrible orders, the race is on to achive two things – get the footage to someone who will air it and get Miura to unleash the Vapor on Kyoko.
To do that, Kenji stays behind to get beaten and captured so the Yakuza believe that they’ve gotten the information out of him under duress, but while the wannabe governor reprogrammes the tragic Ren with a fresh kill order, Kaho has made it to the offices of Miura’s main rival to leak that damning footage. But while her advisors suggest that she doesn’t touch it with a ten foot pole, Kaho manages to avoid the sticky politics by suggesting that she post it on her page and the governor’s office simply just share it.
Meanwhile, after escaping his captors, a battered and bloodied Kenji manages to rally his police comrades to also stride into murky political waters to arrest Miura for his crimes, but what of Kyoko? After getting all the data from the destroyed journal to JNT to corroborate the leaked footage, the reporter still has to find a way to stay ahead of the monster that once was her adopted father. But maybe she doesn’t want to – maybe she just wants this entire thing to end with her.
Possibly the most reassuring thing about the Human Vapor finale is that, for the most part, the makers have taken a “no man left behind” stance while wrapping things up. While it’s trendy to leave multiple threads hanging just in case you get an order for a second season, Shinzo Katayama and Yeon Sang-ho seem determined to ensure almost everyone gets something of a decisive ending. This proves to be rather refreshing as I’d become convinced that we were going to be left with a string of cliffhangers that may never have been resolved – but it does come at a cost. Considering that even second-tier characters such as corrupt psycho cop, Yoshida and Kenji and Kyoko’s partners in both the police and reporting have time spent on them to close out what little arcs they may have had, it does mean that the Human Vapor himself is somewhat underserved within his own season finale. Anyone expecting a huge, climactic setpiece involving the Vapor running rampant through the streets of Tokyo will probably be disheartened, but to my surprise, I’d found that I’d become so endeared to the various characters over the past seven episodes, I actually gave a shit about what happened to them and required legitimate closure. One of the more heartwarming codas sees the shy Kaho finally overcome her issues with her birthmark to not only endure that the Miura/Vapor footage gets aired, but she goes on to steer her late brother’s vlog to the success he’d always dreamed of. Kenji’s ending is noticably less sweet as it involves him once again playing the martyr and allowing the shit to be kicked out of him in order to fool the Yakuza. But after escaping and pulling an impressive Uno reverse card on that ass whupping, he manages to rile up a normaly tentative police force to take a stand against the corruption they’ve been so uncertain about facing.
From here, the main bulk of the action is taken up with the forces of good storming Miura’s campaign offices and while we get the oddly satisfying sight of Yoshida getting fucked up by his own garrotte (after a setpiece that amusingly reveals he’s absolutely riddled with hidden weapons), the moment when Kenji prevents the cowardly suicide of Miura in order to bring him to justice actually makes your heart swell.
But speaking of expanding internal organs; to the surprise of no one, the thread that binds both Kyoto and the Human Vapor together has a noticably less happy ending. It turns out that Kyoko’s whole endgame was to lure the Vapor to the old JNT building, coax him into the airtight vault in the basement of the building and lock herself inside with him to pay for her sins. Of course, the writers have obviously decided that Kenji hasn’t suffered enough this episode, so after a nail biting chase through the building that sees Kyoto barely stay one whisp ahead of her attacker, the besotted cop has to watch impotently through glass as her mutated, adopted father claims his last victim. Of course it wouldn’t be a true finale if some weird shit didn’t go down, and rather than popping his adopted daughter like a balloon, the Vapor himself seems to burst, and once the clouds disperse, there is no sign of Kyoto or Ren. However, that leads us to the final moments of the episode where, after a year, we find Kenji still despondent about his lost love. However, as he plays “Ellie My Love”, we see vaporous tendrils snake into his apartment to form a humanoid form, but rather than the male form of Ren, it takes an unmistakably female shape which suggests that Kyoko has taken on the misty mantle. While feeling a little like the ending of the original Candyman, it’s a good, freaky note to end the show on that raises questions that could be picked up by a second season – but if it isn’t, it’s still a striking note to end on.
Compact, but complete, Human Vapor ends its run on a high note thanks to a rather endearing attention to detail that ensures that all those many, complex conspiracy threads are neatly tied off. While it would have been nice to include the Vapor himself more overtly, the show manages to end on a great balance that both hints at a possible continuation or could be a definitive ending. Whatever happens, Human Vapor went out as it came in: full steam ahead.
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