Having amassed all the necessary ingredients to make a grim, action-packed supernatural thriller, Witch Hunter Robin promptly drowns them in a shallow puddle of Not Much Happens. Rarely have I witnessed such pompous grey tone or such funereal voicing or so many shots of people staring mournfully at what must be the most fascinating middle-distance ever. Any spasms of action quickly default to some nondescript bad guy telekinetically hurling flower pots or dust bins and the protagonist Robin incinerating them in a puff of digitalised fire. But that’s not the worst of its sins - no, that would be the fact that Robin and her secret organisation buddies are of no use to anyone in need of entertaining. So insufferably bland and middling are they that their long periods of pedestrian dialogue mostly drove me to do something else.
Witch Hunter Robin is probably aiming for something akin to Buffy the Vampire Slayer but it lacks a sense of humour to help the viewer laugh off its daftness (and these days the notion of witches - along with vampires, werewolves, zombies - and their respective hunters is daft). Kudos to Hideyuki Daichi Suzuki for composing a moody, evocative opening theme that the show never lives up to, and the rest of the soundtrack performs well too, but all else is a chore to wade through.