‘Re: Monster’ Netflix Series Review - The Goblin Who Ate the World (and Everything In It)

Let me start by saying this: Re: Monster is what you get when a survival show, a fantasy game guide, and an extremely detailed food log have a three-way collision and come out muttering “skill acquired.” It’s weird. It’s fast. It’s occasionally uncomfortable. And for some reason, I kept watching.

So, the basic premise is pretty straightforward. Tomokui Kanata dies and gets reincarnated in another world as a lowly goblin named Gobrou. You’d think that’s a downgrade, but no—it turns out he can absorb the powers of anything he eats. This leads him down a path of monster-buffet-meets-self-improvement-montage, except there’s no Rocky music, just a whole lot of internal monologuing and… menu screens.

Gobrou levels up faster than a power-hungry Pokémon with unlimited Rare Candies. By episode three, he’s already stronger than most bosses you’d expect in the finale. He evolves, he leads, and he organizes society like he read The Art of War and How to Win Friends and Influence People between bites of chimera meat. He becomes a boss, literally and figuratively. There’s even a mercenary group, Parabellum, where he leads an army of grateful followers who were mostly saved, trained, or just thoroughly impressed by his ability to eat a dragon and not immediately die.

Now, if that sounds cool and wild, you're right—it kind of is. There’s a certain chaotic appeal to how Re: Monster embraces its premise. It’s unapologetic. It doesn’t waste time. Do you want slow-burn plot development? Try another show. You want goblin-level-up-speedrun content with action, politics, romance, and surprisingly frequent pregnancy announcements? Pull up a chair. That said… let’s talk turkey. Or rather, let’s talk about problems.

First, the pacing. This show sprints through the plot like it’s got a bus to catch. There's no time to breathe. One moment Gobrou's getting revenge on goblin bullies with a well-timed fireball; next, he’s establishing a village, designing an economic system, and managing military strategy like a green-skinned Napoleon. Blink and you’ll miss someone evolving, someone getting married, or someone giving birth to three children—yes, that happens, more than once.

Then, there’s the whole vibe. The tone swings wildly between comedic violence, oddly touching community-building, and suddenly-we're-talking-about-reproduction scenes that are… handled with a mix of clinical disinterest and jarring bluntness. It’s not graphic, but the show doesn’t tiptoe around it either. It’s sort of like a high-fantasy biology textbook with extra sword fights.

The female characters, unfortunately, fall into the usual fantasy stereotypes: they’re often introduced as tough fighters, but eventually become part of Gobrou’s ever-growing circle of admirers. The harem element doesn’t completely overshadow the plot, but it’s undeniably there, and it leans more into quantity than nuance. If you’re looking for deep character development, you might want to look elsewhere—or at least bring a shovel.

Animation-wise, Re: Monster is passable. It won’t blow your mind, but it won’t make your eyes bleed either. Action scenes are competent. Magic effects are shiny enough to count as “cool.” The monster designs are where the visuals shine a little brighter; everything from ogres to dragons is distinct and mildly terrifying, in a fun way. The color palette sticks to dark tones and earthy shades, which fits the whole cave-dwelling, monster-munching aesthetic.

The show’s biggest win, oddly enough, is Gobrou himself. He’s not your typical isekai hero. He’s pragmatic, brutally efficient, occasionally sweet, and always aware of how ridiculous his own journey is. His internal commentary adds a much-needed self-awareness to the madness. You can’t help but root for him—even when he’s solving diplomacy problems by eating a centaur.

All in all, Re: Monster is 55% engaging, has unique chaos, and 45% “What am I watching and why does this goblin have more children than a sitcom dad?” It’s fast-paced, oddly sincere, a little problematic, and strangely addictive.

If you go into it expecting peak storytelling or subtle emotional arcs, you’ll probably be chewing on disappointment. But if you approach it like a late-night snack you know isn’t healthy but still hits the spot, then welcome to Gobrou’s table. Just don’t ask what’s in the stew.

Final Score- [5.5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times