Name(s): Bio Hunter / Biohunter / バイオ・ハンター
Format: Original video animation [OVA] (1 episode)
Studio(s): Madhouse

Review

In a world tormented by a rogue virus that transforms humans into terrifying, man-eating creatures, the only people who can confront the problem are two college professors. The confident, social Koshigaya and his restrained colleague/partner Komada complement each other in a buddy cop-esque relationship as they face the unknown terrors of the night that are hungry for the flesh of young women—because it is always young women. Thus, the Bio Hunter(s) is/are born!

If you haven’t yet assumed that this is penned by Yoshiaki Kawajiri, then you must not know the man that well. Yuzu Sato takes the director credit here, but his malleable body of work makes it clear why Kawajiri’s violent, pulpy characteristics define Bio Hunter.

Nevertheless, while the elements of demon and body horror are always present, Bio Hunter is concerned more with its story than offering a spectacle. This would be a mistake were it not so engaging. Usually the best Kawajiri works grab attention and string it along through thick, sleazy atmosphere covering fluidly connected, intricate, creative action set pieces. To say that they aren’t concerned with narrative is outright wrong. However, the way they progress the narrative is rarely through characters or complicated plots.

Bio Hunter doesn’t do an amazing job at those different interests, but it does well enough at them to make this one of the more pleasurable Kawajiri works, and it helps that it’s still uncompromised classic ’90s OVA pulp. It’s not as if Bio Hunter doesn’t deliver on Kawajiri’s trademark grit, violence, and horror. Rather, there’s a greater variety of things to latch onto here.

Main characters Koshigaya and Komada have a charming banter and palpable friendship that implies a long history and sincere concern for each other. Though, Komada’s affection for a female character might develop a bit too fast to empathize with the romance. Such things are minor enough to not matter for this short, modest format. What counts isn’t feeling exactly the same as the characters, but that you believe in their feelings.

Simply believing there’s a consistent, sensible world here is enough to make the typical stakes something you’d actually want to know the outcome of. Komada’s love is “forced”, but it’s not his relationship that matters, it’s just for the audience to see his struggle between his human side and his demon side. Komada is city’s best defense against those infected with the demon virus due to him being able to control the virus’s influence on his mind while also being able to transform at will and command its incredible strength.

The two are roped into a case that concerns a leading political candidate, and what would seem to be business as usual for the two is taken to a critical story for the audience to see as we learn Komada is close to no longer being able to control his demonic influence. How will this friendship end, and what will become of Komada? Will Koshigaya be forced to kill his own companion? Being able to understand the complications of the story make it a bit more than action scenes for action’s sake, and generic “save the world” plots that just expect you to empathize because, hey, our world being destroyed would suck, right? But it isn’t our world, so that’s rarely enough on its own.

Verdict on Bio Hunter

Bio Hunter has a bit of sleazy exploitation with some sexual imagery mixed into the violence. Although that distracts from what’s otherwise a reasonable, albeit macabre story, it’s not nearly as bad as other Kawajiri works. For the most part, Bio Hunter isn’t attempting to shock the viewer. It’s telling a story with a clear beginning and end, with clearly-defined characters. It’s all simple, but a ’90s OVA having both character and heart is always a big bonus.

While only a small element, I do often find myself thinking about one cool detail in Bio Hunter. Komada has a quirk he uses to detect demons—when in their presence, he begins involuntarily crying. It sounds silly, but I like the mundanity of it. There’s never any reason or thematic relevance tied back to this. Instead, it’s a more memorable conveyance of extrasensory powers than glowing auras or what-have-you. It’s cool.