It took me a while to really figure out how I could articulate what makes Rooster Fighter so appealing. At first, I thought it was just the absurdity of its premise because it’s a simple yet effective setup for what I thought was going to be a more comedically leaning series. That isn’t to say that there is no comedy in Rooster Fighter, as it does have comedy in spades, oftentimes making fun of its own absurdity. However, I would argue that’s not the main appeal.
For a series that could be boiled down to super chickens taking down demons that threatened humanity, the artwork goes so much harder than I expected it to. There are incredibly detailed backgrounds, elaborate shading, and powerful panel layouts that really leave a definitive impact. There are some popular battle series that I wish had the page presence of Rooster Fighter. The image of a battered rooster covered in blood as he stands up to perform one final attack on a devil is ingrained in my brain because of how good the artwork is, but this doesn’t just apply to standard impact frames.
The action is also incredibly well choreographed. A lot of the fights involve small chickens fighting larger creatures, so there is a degree of prediction to the overall combat setups themselves. However, I think the series makes up for that by creating fast-paced, kinetic, and engaging ways for the characters to fight each other. Almost all of the chickens are small and rely on speed, but they also have unique ways of taking down enemies. The series starts pretty vanilla with a monster of the week format, but as I got to the latter volumes and stronger enemies are introduced, the series gets a lot more creative with the unique ways that these threats need to be taken down. The fact that I could get excited with fast-paced hand-to-hand combat between someone of humanoid height versus a small bird is a testament to how much passion is put into this material. There were moments in the later volumes where I was on the edge of my seat, wondering what would happen next because the combat had a growing sense of drama.
That’s when it hit me: I was enjoying this series on the same level that I used to enjoy more traditional westerns. Our main character, Keiji, is the wandering cowboy or a wandering samurai, if you want another point of comparison. He’s kind of a dick, likes to sleep around, and gives the impression that he doesn’t really care about anybody. All he cares about is getting revenge on the demon that took his sister away. But he lives by a code and always stands by his convictions, which draws a lot of people towards him. He’s accompanied by an old flame with whom he has a certain degree of romantic tension with and he is also followed by a young child who looks up to him. There’s family drama with his dad, and the chickens never stay in the same location for more than a few chapters at a time.
The story gets a little bit more focused as the threat grows and as we find out more about the origins of these demons. But for a good couple of volumes, that wandering western vibe is what the series is going for, and it takes itself so seriously like those westerns did. This isn’t a series that’s funny because it takes itself so seriously; this is a series that wants you to treat it as seriously as it is treating itself, which sounds ridiculous because it’s about superpowered roosters. There is such a commitment on display that it won me over by the end of the first volume.
If you can’t completely buy into this absurdity in any of the early chapters, you’re not going to enjoy the rest of this series. If you can, there’s something really noteworthy about how traditionally dedicated the overall story is. I think that’s why there were even some genuinely heart-wrenching moments that got to me, even if they are arguably things that I’ve seen before. In a lot of ways, I felt like I was being rewarded for committing to the story and treating it as seriously as the characters do, especially when we start getting into surprisingly complex nuances with regard to how the demons exist and where they come from. Without giving too much away, my favorite character in the entire story wasn’t any of the roosters, but was actually a demon themselves. I’m curious to see where his story ends.
Unfortunately, that does mean that there is arguably nothing here that you haven’t seen before if you’ve read similar stories in the same genre. The story does get to a point where I start predicting some of the plot points, and convenience sets in as the lore of the land continues to build. However, unlike a lot of other series, Rooster Fighter doesn’t feel like it’s trying to coast or get away with anything because of the familiar tropes. It does feel like it is fully embracing what makes those tropes so special. Do you want exciting action? It’s got that in spades. You want to see a dedicated loner get into trouble? Follow Keiji’s story. This is the type of series that can appear radically indifferent on the surface because of the premise, but it’s also here to tell you that you’re, ironically, going to be in for a very familiar albeit good time if you give it a chance.
