The Dark Crow Smiles: A Film Analysis of Kuroshitsuji

Submitted by singacrossthemoon

Though a few years old now, this paper discusses the intricacies of Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship and how it is portrayed in the final few moments of season one. (In short, yes, it’s a second ASDFGHJIT’SCANON essay. Written for a class. XD; No plagiarizing, please!)

The Dark Crow Smiles

            From “Scarface” (Hawks, 1932) to “Double Indemnity” (Wilder, 1944), films throughout the ages have been fraught with romantic undertones that have failed to meet with censor approval. This tradition of suggestive debauchery has not simply continued from year to year, it has no doubt increased— both in terms of magnitude and blatancy—  as times have worn on. It is a practice that transcends language, culture, and medium of expression; it is a practice that many Japanese anime embrace. “Kuroshitsuji” (“Black Butler”) is one such anime. Based off of a manga series by the same title, “Kuroshitsuji” is full of so many ambiguous (and not-so-ambiguous) homosexual hints that the producer of the series, Kouji Taguchi, incorrectly labeled it as a fujoshi, or “boys love,” series during the Japan International Contents Festival this past October (Anime News Network). In Taguchi’s defense, it is an easy mistake to make: despite the heavy theological plotline, the story is laden with much humorous innuendo. Still, as the series wears on, scenes full of obvious fan-service (such as when the main characters, Sebastian and Ciel, are forced to waltz with one another; Sebastian fitting Ciel into a corset in such a way that it appears as if they are having sex) are replaced by instances of hesitant, albeit genuine affection (the discovery that Ciel cares more for Sebastian than anyone else, including his deceased family). These moments accumulate, gradually building atop one another, until they reach a crescendo in the final battle of episode twenty four: Ciel, fatally wounded and dangling from a bridge, offers Sebastian a beautiful, tender smile— the only time we’ve seen such an expression on his face. Sebastian returns the expression, for once without mockery, and then watches in horror as Ciel lets go, falling to his death in the river Thames. Yet, this is not the end for the pair; instead, Ciel’s death is a beginning. In the following scenes, the audience is allowed to see, for the first time, Sebastian and Ciel interact with one another free of all airs. To be sure, while all faces of their multifaceted relationship are referenced and epitomized during the final two minutes of the episode, it is only when reveling in the sudden freedom that Ciel’s demise has provided that the romantic nature of their bond is fully exposed.

Of course, the audience has known from the beginning that their relationship is a complex and twisted one. Set in the heart of London’s Victorian era, “Kuroshitsuji” follows the story of the young earl Ciel Phantomhive. On his tenth birthday, Ciel’s mother and father are murdered by occultists, and the boy himself is kidnapped, tortured, and forced to play the sacrifice during a demonic ritual. Unfortunately for the occultists, the summoned demon takes a liking to his sacrifice, and offers to make a contract with the child; Ciel, who has long-since rejected God during his month in captivity, agrees without hesitation. He then gives the demon the name Sebastian, and under his new master’s orders, Sebastian kills all of the gathered occultists, resurrects the destroyed Phantomhive Manor, and restores Ciel to his position of power. He then takes on the role of the Phantomhive family butler, and decrees that he will continue to masquerade as such until his master finds and revenges himself against the mastermind who put him through such hell. Once Ciel’s vengeance is complete, Sebastian’s prize is the consumption of his master’s soul.

As the average viewer has been aware of this contract since the first episode, Ciel’s death at the end of the season, while no less poignant, does not come as a surprise. Looking back, the fact that he drowns is even foreshadowed in sequences of the series’ opening theme. The emphasis placed by the show’s creators’ on Ciel’s watery death cannot be understated; while it is, without doubt, a drowning, it can also be seen as a baptism. In fundamental Christian theology (which the show references a great deal), baptism is used to wash away one’s sins and make them into a “new person.” Following his death, we are introduced to a Ciel the likes of which we’ve never seen before: a tranquil, strangely pure Ciel. He is, indeed, a new person. Or perhaps, more accurately, the person he was meant to be, now that he’s been freed of hatred and wrath. What’s more, he is no longer bound to society and the Queen’s law; feelings that could only be teasingly hinted at or parodied while the world was watching can now be explored, for there is no one else around. Pretenses have been “washed away.” As he himself says, he is now “just Ciel Phantomhive;” for a few precious moments, we are allowed to see the boy’s true character, true feelings, and true desires. Sebastian, too, is released from the façade of humanity that he had constructed for himself. Yet, rather than morph into some great monster, or even exemplify the cruelty he has shown Ciel and others through the course of the series, he instead treats his ex-master with so much sincere kindness that it becomes nigh-impossible to claim that he does not care.

While less important in terms of exhibiting the romance between Sebastian and Ciel, the series’ second ending theme works as another beautiful piece of foreshadowing, as well as a montage-version of an establishing shot for the final scene of the series. This sequence, recycled at the end of episodes fourteen to twenty three, features Sebastian ferrying Ciel’s corpse to a distant island. As shown by figures 1 through 3, this is actually an homage to Arnold Böcklin’s painting, Isle of the Dead (Wikipedia). Equipped with this background knowledge, it is thus easy for the audience to ascertain where Sebastian is taking Ciel following his death in episode twenty four. On a related note, it should be mentioned that as this island is set somewhere between the realms of the living and the dead, Ciel’s consciousness returns.

Our scene of focus begins when this ferry ride ends. With less than two minutes until the credits, an extreme long shot of Sebastian rowing towards the Isle of the Dead (figure 3) fades into a medium-long shot of the island’s sandy shore, tilting upward to show everything from the bow of the boat to the single set of footprints that vanish into the forest (figure 4). This row of footprints, while shown only briefly, beautifully summarizes the characters’ relationship up to this point: at first glance, it seems as if Ciel is walking through the woods (and life) alone, but as we know (and as is revealed by a fade moments later), Sebastian is always by his side, supporting him. Quite literally in this case, as he is shown carrying his small master through the underbrush (figure 5).

This visual metaphor is quickly replaced by another via cut; the screen is filled with a long shot of a crumbling castle, which the camera slowly zooms in and focuses on. At first, this disrepair seems fairly odd, as when we had seen the Isle and its many buildings from the water, nothing looked in poor order. The castle, however, represents one of the series’ overriding allegories: that life is a game of chess, with Ciel playing the King and Sebastian as his Knight. Now that the king has fallen, it only makes sense that his castle should “crumble into dust,” as Sebastian phrases it in an earlier episode. Nevertheless, Sebastian carries Ciel into the ruins, and sets him upon a stone bench which sits atop a raised platform. This, too, reflects the chess metaphor (Ciel’s elevated throne), as well as Sebastian’s personal feelings. As the boy’s butler, he has always placed his master above everyone and everything else.

The shot of Sebastian lowering Ciel onto the bench is introduced by a high downward tilt; as the camera slides towards the main characters, it passes a crow which has perched itself on the craggy edge of the ancient, half-destroyed wall. This allusion is by far the most blatant: a crow is the form that Sebastian took when he first appeared before Ciel and they formed their contract. Its return reminds the viewers (as well as the characters themselves) that this pact will end shortly. Indeed, upon seeing the crow, a remarkably composed Ciel tells Sebastian, “The rest of my soul is yours.” After a pause, Sebastian replies, “As expected from the young master. You’re kind.” Rather than see his face while responding, the screen cuts to a close-up of the crow, who— almost imperceptibly— nods. As this bird represents Sebastian at his most demonic (again, as this was the form that Ciel first contracted with), its nodding seems to signify that Sebastian truly believes this, deep down. Stranger still, while this is not the first time that Sebastian has called Ciel “kind,” it is the first time that he has done so without derision. Quite the opposite: there is faint reverence in his tone. Perhaps this is why Ciel does not object to what, in the past, has come off as a taunt. 

Their discussion continues as the camera cuts to Ciel’s face, shown in profile with his bangs covering his eyes. As the eyes are the most expressive part of a person, particularly in anime, this makes Ciel seem emotionally uncertain as he reaches up to touch the patch that conceals his right eye, as well as the mark of their contract. What follows this gesture is a conversation that positively oozes innuendo, regardless of the language it is in. It begins with Ciel asking Sebastian “Will it hurt?” In shot-reverse shot format, the camera jumps to a soft-featured Sebastian, who is looking down upon his charge with an expression of mild amusement and concern playing upon his face. “Yes,” he replies soothingly, “a little. I’ll try to keep it as gentle as possible.”

Admittedly, this scene could become incredibly cheesy incredibly fast, no matter what way one chooses to interpret the dialogue. Thankfully, any worries over possible clichés vanish with Ciel’s next line, which cuts off the end of Sebastian’s attempts to ease his anxiety. With the camera still focused on Sebastian, Ciel demands: “Don’t. Make it as painful as you can.”

For a moment, Sebastian appears displeased with this command.  Which, when contemplated, seems bizarre; after all, at any other point in the show, this demon has smirked and snickered in the face of anyone’s pain, including Ciel’s. Yet, here, with no one around to put on airs for, and no reason to act like a servant, small slips like these are all that is necessary to prove his affections for the boy. Whether or not he planned on adding verbally to this signal of disapproval must remain up to the viewer’s imagination, however, for his frown is swiftly replaced by a close-up of Ciel. The boy, who looks weary and determined, but in no way uncertain, then adds, “Carve the pain of my life into my soul.”

These lines can be interpreted a number of different ways. First and simplest, to say something so drastic and depressing is very much like the character. Ciel has always been highly self-reflective, but never one to back down or turn away, even in the most dire of situations. Or one could view this as an act of penance: as he will not be able to go to Hell, he may be trying to atone as best as he can while he still exists. This is the least likely of the options, though, as Ciel is not the apologetic type. What makes the most sense, at least when taking the previous episodes of the series into account, is that Ciel is trying to fulfill his end of the bargain to the best of his abilities. That is to say, he wants to make his soul as tasty as it can be for the demon. It has been stated by Sebastian on numerous occasions that the more adversity a soul endures, the more intricate its flavorings; in episode twenty three, Sebastian remarks explicitly that, due to Ciel’s suffering, he has now obtained the highest-quality supper. Ciel telling Sebastian to engrave each and every one of his hardships into his soul is like saying he wants to “make it good” for his butler.   

Perhaps this is the way that Sebastian interprets the request as well, for his initial response is an expression of open-mouthed surprise. This look quickly melts away, though, and is replaced by a warm, reverential smile. The scene then cuts to a long shot of Sebastian kneeling before Ciel, hand on his chest, as he speaks the words “Yes, my Lord,” a catchphrase that he has used at least once an episode since the series’ pilot. As such, it pays tribute to the most obvious side of their association: the bond between a master and his servant. It is this connection that saved Ciel three years ago, and even now the brightness of this supposedly-midnight scene suggests what a bright spot their relationship has been in Ciel’s bleak life. Another reminder of Ciel’s pain appears moments later; as the camera fades to a close up of Sebastian kneeling, then to a shot of a downcast Ciel, a song entitled “Si Deus Me Relinquit” (“If God Has Forsaken Me”) begins to play. It is the first sound (besides the diegetic clatter of footsteps) to grace the scene, and serves as an aural reminder of both the nature of their contract, and why they formed it in the first place. As if also remembering this, Ciel looks dejectedly downward; his lament in a previous scene, that “[his life had gone by] just a little too fast,” returns to the viewers’ minds. Even still, he does not struggle or resist what he sees as inevitable. He does not even appear frightened, which speaks volumes about his principles of integrity, as well as his strange trust in Sebastian. He simply leans back and waits.

As Ciel settles himself on the bench, the scene cuts to a medium shot of Sebastian, who shucks off his remaining glove with his teeth. Throughout the series, these gloves have served as the physical manifestation of his persona as a butler, and as such he has only ever removed them when reconnecting with his demonic side. For instance, when torturing people under Ciel’s orders. Even then, he generally keeps the gloves on, as it has been Sebastian’s stated wish to be “a butler ‘til the very end,” no matter what he is doing, so long as he is in his master’s sight. Therefore, the removal of his gloves is like the abandonment of the last “mask;” the creature that steps closer to Ciel, gloves discarded at his feet, is now the very essence of the demon that had been named “Sebastian.”

At this point, the camera cuts to a long shot of Sebastian approaching Ciel. This scene (figure 6) is marked by a massive stripe of darkness and light, which cuts through the entire shot. Ciel, being human, is bathed mainly in light; Sebastian, as the demon, mainly in darkness. Yet, though Sebastian is the one predominantly in shadow, it appears as if the shadows themselves are radiating from Ciel. More specifically, the focal point of these shadows looks to be Ciel’s head. What’s more, the line this darkness creates connects directly with Sebastian’s head, as if he is the product of these dark thoughts. Or, as if Sebastian is feeding off of Ciel’s darkness, as he is willingly walking into it. (It was, after all, the darkness of Ciel’s soul that first attracted Sebastian, back on the day they first met.) Even if this is the case, however, it seems doubtful that these thoughts are angry or resentful in nature: the gloom surrounding Sebastian may be gray (perhaps representing a gray area of confusion), but the shade lurking behind the demon is almost pitch-black, and entirely more sinister; Ciel knows that things would have been far-worse without him around.

On the other hand, one could look at this play of shadows and light in a wholly more innocent manner. While it is true that both are mainly either light or dark, it is also true that they flirt on the edges of their respective spectrums, as if trying to meet the other half-way. Or as if to prove that both are equal parts good and evil; the shot certainly contains elements of a yin-yang, if examined carefully. Moreover, this combination of lightness and darkness makes a great deal of sense in regards to the show: Ciel was marked physically by his contract with Sebastian, and it has been stated that Sebastian can sense him wherever he goes, which suggests that there has been some sort of melding of their spirits. In the same vein, the audience has seen Sebastian react physically (via shudders and jolts) when Ciel exerts his will over him; thus, this blending of power (and mixing of elements both good and evil) must be in some way equivalent.

Either interpretation of these visual elements adds new layers to the pair’s relationship, but as their bond is already so complicated, it is probably most accurate to assume that all of these readings hold some degree of truth. At any rate, these hints of light and shadow are hardly acknowledged by the fans, as most are notably distracted by what happens next. Indeed, what follows is, debatably, the most memorable thing about this scene, as well as the most flagrant piece of evidence regarding Sebastian’s feelings for his young master.

Once the glove (and the guise it entails) has been shed, the camera cuts to a long shot of Sebastian walking forward, hand outstretched. This picture is soon replaced by a close up of Ciel’s face, which Sebastian immediately begins stroking. At this point, it hardly needs to be stated how unexpected a gesture this is; it is not a comforting caress, as Ciel is not scared. Even if he was, Sebastian has no obligation to do anything to help or console Ciel anymore: he is now in control, and can do (and, presumably, is doing) whatever he likes.

For contrasting purposes, it is also important to note that this is not the first time Sebastian has shown a desire to touch his master. For example, in episode nine, Sebastian rescues Ciel from being crushed to death, and in the process of examining his charge for wounds, leans forwards as if about to kiss him. However, after realizing that others are watching this display, the pair pulls away from one another and the tension breaks. This time, as no one is around, they are free to continue as they see fit. Thus, Ciel, rather than resist, leans into Sebastian’s touch and helps him remove his eye patch. After the eye patch falls, the scene cuts to an extreme close up of Ciel’s eye; in its sapphire reflection, we see Sebastian bend forward. At that moment, the camera switches to a point-of-view shot: through Ciel’s eyes, we watch Sebastian lean closer and closer, his smile widening, as his shadow blocks out the light. When his lips are roughly where Ciel’s mouth would be, the screen blacks out, and the episode ends.

The initial reaction of most viewers was that Sebastian had given Ciel a “kiss of death” of some sort, working under the assumption that a soul can be sucked from a person by means of their esophageal passageway. Yet, very quickly after this episode aired, it was announced that the producers had been given the green-light to create a second season of the show. This, of course, changes everything, in terms of the finale’s last shot: rather than consume his master’s soul, Sebastian apparently decides to go where episode nine failed to. That is to say, he does not give Ciel a “kiss of death”— he just kisses him.

In Japan, there is a large market for “boys’ love.” Even shows that are not intentionally geared towards homosexual romances usually receive such treatments by the fans. “Kuroshitsuji,” unlike a number of other anime, embraces its fujoshi-loving audience and caters to it, giving the fans everything from an extended version of the previously-referenced “corset scene” to official images of Sebastian and Ciel sharing a bed. Even the music in the show adds to the gay undertones: the opening theme is a love song called “Monochrome Kiss,” and the lyrics of certain background tracks are full of romantic implications. For at its roots, “Kuroshitsuji” is a show not about revenge, but about Sebastian and Ciel’s relationship, and however one chooses to view that relationship. Master/servant, demon/contractor, or possible lovers, the last episode references all aspects of their bond, as well as marks the first (and, as of now, only) time that we see such blatant, mutual affection displayed between the pair. Even if Sebastian and Ciel’s romance does not ever fully develop, it is impossible for any viewer to deny that it is there.

Works Cited

Isle of the Dead.” Wikipedia 15 Oct. 2009. 10 Nov. 2009.

Producer: No Square-Enix Anime Lost Money in 8 Years.” Anime News Network 9 Oct. 2009. 9 Oct. 2009.

Toshiya, Shinohara, dir.  Kuroshitsuji. 2009. Animeseason.com. 29 Mar. 2009.