Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Gannibal’ Season 2 on Hulu, The Continuation Of This Dark (And Hangry) Japanese Horror Series

Gannibal! Like Hannibal. As in “Lecter.” With emphasis on that iconic character’s favorite meat to eat. Gannibal, written by Takamasa Oe (Drive My Car), is a Japanese series based on the manga of the same name by Masaaki Ninomiya. And with its second season kicking off right where its first concluded, let’s review what was originally found by a police officer newly posted to a tiny mountain village: evidence, drenched in a heavy dose of suspicion – and jumbled by Gannibal’s heavy use of flashbacks – that for generations, the local people have been eating people. Yuya Yagira, Riho Yoshioka, Shô Kasamatsu, Mitsuko Baishô, Kazuki Sawai, and Aoba Kawai return for Gannibal season 2; Ayumu Nakajima joins the cast.

GANNIBAL – SEASON 2: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? 

Opening Shot: “Entering Kuge Village airspace!” There is overlapping radio chatter as police helicopters descend on Kuge, where a large fire is visible. “Multiple casualties near Goto household!” 

The Gist: Let’s back up. Because like we said, Gannibal loves a chaotic timeline. When policeman Daigo Agawa (Yagira) was first posted to Kuge, a small village circled by a river and surrounded by mountainous Cypress forests, it was as punishment for a past incident. While it remains unnamed, whatever Daigo caused made his little daughter Mashiro stop speaking and forced his wife Yuki (Yoshioka) to help bear the brunt of his professional disgrace. But Kuge is not just a sleepy little town where they can repair their lives. As soon as Daigo donned his uniform, he was wrapped up in the discovery of the mutilated body of Gin Goto (Baishô), the matriarch of the most powerful family in Kuge. A family with so many secrets, their secrets have secrets. 

“The curse of this village must have begun long before I was born.” That’s Kiyoshi (Seiji Rokkaku), the mayor, who like most people in Kuge is inextricably linked to the Gotos. And while Kiyoshi has come forward to aid the larger police task force looking into the weird goings-on in the village, the Gotos themselves – led by Gin’s grandson Keisuke (Kasamatsu) – continue to terrorize Daigo on the ground. He already knows there were human bite marks on Gin’s body; he also found a stray finger, which is all that remains of his predecessor. But Daigo can’t prove the Gotos are cannibals, because in this town they’re always one step ahead of everything. Daigo can’t even determine the scope of another truth – that the Gotos have been abducting area children – because when he searches for their suspected location, he’s attacked by “That Man” (Sawai). It’s the only name given for a towering local longhair with desiccated skin who haunts the riverbank and seems obsessed with Mashiro.

Keisuke communes with visions of his dead grandmother. Gin issues commands, and as the Goto fam’s leader, Keisuke acts. This could be a function of the alleged village curse. But at the same time, Keisuke and the brothers Goto, who all carry rifles and shotguns, certainly seem motivated toward violence as a means of self-preservation. As the Gotos hound Daigo, and Sadamu (Nakajima), their newly-introduced family member, targets Daigo’s wife and daughter, Gannibal is also flashing on images of cultish rituals and subterranean ossuaries. Whatever its shape, there is evil in Kuge Village. And it’s been hungry for years.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Gannibal weighs much more on the folk-horror side of things than it does its police investigation side, but the people-eater commonalities with Hannibal hold. The creepiness and cultiness of Gannibal also place it alongside stuff like Apostle, the incredibly scary Dan Stevens-starring limited series, or films like Incantation, The Ritual, or even The Empty Man.    

Our Take: Throughout its first season and into its second, Gannibal has flirted with an underlying notion: that maybe policeman Daigo Agawa wasn’t simply assigned to Kuge Village, but somehow called to it. Daigo’s destiny, and concurrently that of his wife and family, is now entangled with the motivations of the Goto family. But Gannibal absolutely adores perspective-shifting flashbacks that slither through its intentions like a mischievous snake, so it’s difficult to make any solid predictions. One thing that is clear? Daigo’s connection to Keisuke Goto runs deeper than a simple cop-vs-criminal binary. And the closer this police officer gets to uncovering pieces of the Gotos’ generational history, the more urgent Gannibal becomes with its allusions to cult practices and human sacrifices.

Cult stuff: we usually love it. And Gannibal’s version is intriguing. But the fact is that the formatting of its story is extremely trying. Recollections and revelations from different characters’ point-of-view combine with action in the present – like a lengthy fight/chase between Daigo and That Man which seems to reveal the latter’s unnatural strength and movement – and leave us feeling disoriented by which thread to follow. The murky cliffhanger that ended season 1 of Gannibal was frustrating in this manner. It’s our hope that season 2 of the series clarifies some of the mysteries at its center, even as it continues to showcase a welcome appetite for gore and unsettling imagery.

Sex and Skin: Let’s say “sexual situations,” and not in a good way.

Parting Shot: Daigo Agawa thought he had placed his wife Yuki and their kindergartener daughter somewhere safe from the clutches of the Goto family. Not quite!

Sleeper Star: Shô Kasamatsu was a standout of the unfortunately-cancelled Tokyo Vice, and as Keisuke in Gannibal, Kasamatsu delivers a performance that obscures the secrets of the Goto family behind his frown’s perpetual flat line.

Most Pilot-y Line: “My earliest memory is of a place where the sun doesn’t shine. In there, I was a child kept alive only to be eaten.” 

Our Call: Stream It! For the unease! Season 2 of Gannibal should get closer to answering a few of its own questions, like who exactly the cannibals are and who they’ve planned to make their next meal. In the meantime, you can expect some impressively creepy vibes and visuals, and via flashback, a heaping helping of misdirection.  

Johnny Loftus (@johnnyloftus.bsky.social) is a Chicago-based writer. A veteran of the alternative weekly trenches, his work has also appeared in Entertainment Weekly, Pitchfork, The All Music Guide, and The Village Voice.