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Are You Tired of Owning Things That Aren't Donuts But Could Be Donuts?

"Infinity Train" needs little introduction in the animation community by this point. From the day its pilot hit YouTube in 2016, it struck a chord with a huge number of people who saw downright endless potential in the concepts, atmosphere, and characters. And through that love, it was able to be greenlit into a series where, if anything, it managed to exceed everyone's expectations and grow into its own unique beast.


As of this writing, there are 3 books of 10 episodes, each of which follows a completely different story building off a seemingly throwaway concept established in the previous one. Thus, book 1 follows the protagonist we saw in the pilot, a Wisconsin girl named Tulip, a girl living a pretty normal life but going through domestic and personal problems that only a mysterious, otherworldly locomotive can help her resolve.


Right off the bat, I need to majorly compliment the artistry in this show. It's not the strongest from an animation standpoint, but it gets pretty much everything it needs to right. But it's the backgrounds where it especially shines, as immediately proven early in episode 1:

The first scene of the series boasts backgrounds that are warm and mellow with the yellows and subtle gradients. Also note the incredible attention to detail in the textures and shadows, a concept that mostly disappears once Tulip enters the train.


I love how determined they are to make the world Tulip lives in as realistic as possible. This computer interface is so dang accurate to Windows XP, right down to the font and layout of the code program itself. It's one of the little things that adds a lot to the immersion.


The scene where Tulip decides to venture outside is so well-directed, from the cinematography to Chrome Canyon's music and the smart contrast between the warmer colors of the inside and the cold, snowy outdoors.


Shortly after the title card, we get a few backgrounds of nightfall approaching as the snow continues to fall. It's a great way to swiftly show the passage of time, as well as subtly building up that something interesting is about to happen.


From Tulip's first scene on the train. Note how much more simplistic this background is compared to the above examples. There's still a lot of great detail, but they make sure Tulip and One One always 'pop' out.


And of course, mention must be made of the wasteland outside the train: a seemingly endless purgatory where trying to exit the train only leads to life-threatening peril. The scale, conveyed with Tulip looking so small compared to even the train car, as well as how flat it is in sheer layout, definitely makes it look lonely and unwelcoming.



Alright, fast forwarding a bit to episode 5, "The Cat's Car". This one is probably the earliest to really leave a huge emotional payoff, for reasons which will become clear overtime.

Right upon entering, the atmosphere for the study is just right. Very tall, and almost overwhelmingly full of collectables, with not much light all around. But there's still something comforting about the little light we do get, shining off the chandelier and especially how it points Tulip to the little TV.


We find out this is because of the Cat trying to manipulate Tulip into trapping herself in her old memories, stored on a VHS tape.


When Tulip's mind starts entering the VHS, she starts out in this white void, not really knowing what to expect, but she's slightly reassured once an initially domineering box of static turns into happy memories of her life. But things only get more interesting once she finds herself *inside* some of them...


The memory that always stood out to me the most is probably this one, where Tulip wanders into the TV showing a weird commercial in an otherwise dark room. Already the fact it stars Atticus and One-One shows there's something wrong, but then we see younger Tulip getting off the couch and weirdly looking at the flat blanket, all while voices are running through her head.


It starts to become much more apparent at this exact moment what is happening, but it doesn't fully set in for Tulip once she starts to realize how she currently remembers these events aren't how they actually transpired, and begins to revisit them under a much more realistic lense.


Sure enough, Tulip accepts the fact that what she saw on the TV that night was a bike ad, and that it was her father, upset and on the couch. We saw signs of them arguing when we revisited the Sea World memory, but this shows that a certain breaking point must've been hit, one that Tulip evidently repressed from herself.


But then we get the ultimate test: Tulip going to the day her parents announce their divorce. And right off the bat, it's portrayed as extremely blunt and insensitive, with the parents coming across as outright devilish. This deliberately reflects what we saw from Tulip at the beginning of episode 1, blaming her parents' separation for her own problems and making herself look like the victim.


This is almost what consumes Tulip into the static of her warped mind, but eventually she starts to reason her way through and, like before, thinks back to what actually happening.


While this exchange is playing out, note present-day Tulip is still largely encased in static and the room is partly engulfed in flames. This indicates that Tulip is greatly struggling to accept this reality, more than the other examples for sure. And why wouldn't she; this is debatably the moment where, in her perspective, everything changed. And she's gone through all this time thinking about herself and not *them*.


Sure enough, Tulip has to face her past self becoming insensitively abrasive towards them and jumping from point A to point B, stating point-blank they'll inevitably get a divorce. Look at the camera layout here too, keeping the focus purely on the Tulips as this moment is all about her own reaction.


And once she finally comes to grips with how much she let her emotions get to her head, she races through all the more current memories (note these are all clips from the first episode) before she finally returns to reality - much to the Cat's surprise. This says a lot about how smart Tulip actually is as a character, and it serves as an extremely important message - that, no matter how much you think otherwise, it's extremely easy to lose track of the nuances of reality for the sake of fitting your own simplified narrative, but that it's never too late to come to accept this and try to improve from that.


This is probably one of the biggest themes of book 1, and debatably the series as a whole. And this is the most hard-hitting with another character who I'm not going to spoil here.



Now onto episode 7, "The Chrome Car", which is the episode I fell in love with the moment I saw it on the first airing. Except the reason for this one is more simple than the above example, while still carrying unfathomable weight.

Tulip's initial reaction over the titular room is that it's like "a vain person's skating rink". She says this line as a half-joke, but there is more truth to that than she realizes, which shows itself when she needs to find a way to open the door out.


All of a sudden, her reflection starts reacting independently from her, giving this indignant expression. Almost like this mirror Tulip disapproves of her prime self's current actions.


So Mirror Tulip manipulates Prime Tulip into switching places through a little foot-portal process. It's very well shot, with the environment sort of warping as it rotates, really conveying that it's not just a different environment, but a different dimension.


Very subtle touch with the contrast in the 'mirror world' being slightly more pronounced, and the colors slightly more muted.


Immediately upon revealing she intends to keep Prime Tulip trapped for good, she becomes extremely excited upon being able to make her own independent decisions, crushing her glasses and messing her hair. This is a concept that book 2 will expand much more, but here it's still a pretty fascinating exploration by itself.


It's suggested that the Chrome Car has its own society in the mirror world, given they apparently have a hospital and police station, which raises a lot of downright philosophical questions that would take me too long to list. Also, note the word 'Police' is mirrored, a pretty humorous touch.


"That shadow, that sliver, is not a person. She exists to reflect your existence, and if she isn't serving that purpose, then we'll make sure she doesn't exist at all."


This one line adds even more philosophical discussion onto the pile. Also, of all the deep themes engrained in this series, ACAB is one that may not have been intended but certainly one needed in today's world.


Mirror Tulip finds herself unable to exit the car due to not reflecting off anyone, and it's here where she and Prime Tulip have a heart-to-heart that shows that her own worst enemy is often herself, specifically how she continually refuses help from others, and how she tends to shut herself off from everyone else. It's quite the effective allegory, even if it's pretty simplistic in concept.


Suddenly, Tulip realizes that she can make Mirror Tulip reflect off herself using her pocket multi-tool mirror (cleverly foreshadowed at the beginning of the episode), allowing her to exist independently in the prime world.


And what is her first independent decision? Flicking a jelly bean at the chrome police, and then laughing at them. Almost like there's a mischievous, self-indulgent side of Tulip that she's now leaving behind...


Obviously, there is so much more emotional depth and double-meaning to cover in book 1 alone. It is just that smartly-written and passionately-crafted a series. And I don't want to spoil any further if you for some reason haven't seen it, because trust me, the last 3 episodes makes all that you saw here look like child's play. And if you have watched and loved Infinity Train before, hopefully I helped you gain a whole new layer of appreciation for it.

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