As a one-eyed witch who is referred to as one-eyed witch (no name) in the English subtitles, Camille Razat haunts Néro the Assassin like a freakish specter. Ominous whispers fill the soundscape as soon as she makes her entrance. Yet this witch doesn't frighten you with her spooky appearance. At best, she looks like a sour friend. You want to sit down with her, talk about her troubles, and then maybe ask her to show you a magic trick to cheer her up. Her bizarre antics, such as gathering grass and ants and whimsically shoving them into her mouth, transform her into something akin to a funny cavewoman. And the very speed at which the witch digs sand with her nails becomes a visual gag. In a better show, Razat's character could have scintillated with a vivacious spirit; she could have effaced long dull patches. But Néro the Assassin is too lazy to identify its weak spots, let alone fix them. It piles clichés upon clichés in the blandest way possible: by adopting the framework of a Chosen One narrative without infusing it with any heart, soul, or momentum.
Why is Perla (Lili-Rose Carlier Taboury), Néro's daughter, so important? Because the dialogues constantly underline her as a special individual. Perla has to be one of the most uninteresting saviors ever to appear in the world of fiction. She apparently didn't make a single friend her own age at the orphanage. She enjoys skinning animals, yet this savage side of her, apart from a hunting and cooking scene where the hunt and capture remain unseen, reveals itself only in her rough, sullen expressions. Perla unites with her father after many years, but except for asking obvious questions about her mother, she doesn't inquire about his life, his job, and we never see father and daughter discussing their hobbies, passions, or other experiences. The characters simply display no great interest in each other. The show, in the same vein, shows much interest in using them as puppets. Néro the Assassin is a very basic kind of adventure, where we just watch people moving from point A to B, to C, and so on. Whatever happens between these points is, well, largely unexceptional. There are sword fights, training sessions, reunions, but everything is shot with an incurious lens. A boy tells Perla he will teach her how to ride a horse, yet we never see this lesson. Néro teaches Perla how to attack an enemy with tools of deception, but what we don't get is its practical application.
The only interesting aspect of Néro the Assassin is its villains. This time, all the saving is done by the witches. The priests, the religious fanatics, the church, on the other hand, wreak havoc. That image of a knife hitting the statue of Jesus Christ hanging on the wall fits appropriately in this series, where the real savior, the real person capable of fixing drought, is no man of god. It's a fantastic concept, but it loses its power during the page-to-screen translation. Or maybe it wasn't very good even on the paper. Néro the Assassin, alas, is one of those shows that don't motivate you to write a review. It gives you nothing to chew on, and you hate that it lingers in your mind until you've finished jotting down your thoughts. Can the one-eyed witch rewind time? Can she return those precious seconds you waste on these ho-hum shows? If yes, give her my address; I would like to meet her. Perhaps I will ask her to perform a few magic tricks to cheer me up.
Final Score- [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
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Publisher at Midgard Times