Review by Frank Plowright

Shiro Kuroi’s Leviathan runs two continuing narratives. In the present day, actually well into our future, looters have chanced across a missing passenger spaceship and are surviving unexpected dangers. They’ve also found the journal of Kusaba, a child being transported to Earth, detailing how his classmates have discovered their air is limited, but only one of them can survive until help arrives via a cryogenic chamber. As seen in Leviathan 2, the children have split into groups and are killing each other.

This is an extremely brutal procedure, and Kuroi doesn’t shy away from the horror, heightening it by showing the results of blows that wound as well as killing strikes. Leviathan being in black and white only slightly diminishes the effect. There’s considerable delicacy to Kuroi’s line, seen in portraits as per the sample art, and that’s also at odds with much of the content.

A crucial moment is the looters discovering all events have been recorded by the ship’s security cameras, and discovering much of that is at odds with the journal they’ve been reading. That leads to a surprising revelation and the looters reviewing the journal along with the footage and recalibrating much of what’s played out over the previous two volumes.

What becomes a descent into madness is punctuated by surprising moments of humanity, and halfway through this conclusion Kuroi switches definitively to the story’s present day. The assumption at the point is everything is concluded bar the mopping up, but Kuroi has proved a master of suspense and he’s not yet finished his shocks.

It’s gratifying to note that Leviathan maintains its excellence all the way through. There’s been intelligence guiding the slaughter throughout and Kuroi applies a realism to his closing chapters, investigating the effects of trauma and obsession while maintaining the narrative intensity. After the story’s finished Kuroi discusses his influences, some surprising, provided as recommendations.

Leviathan was first published in France, then in Japan, and always to great acclaim. It’s all merited. This is thoughtful SF horror just begging to be filmed.