I'm sure anyone who has been even remotely following animation discussion across social media have heard of a series known as "Infinity Train", if they haven't already watched it themselves. It's been a pretty popular topic amongst communities revolving around the medium since the pilot surfaced in 2016, and it especially blew up in recent weeks alone. It regularly trends on Twitter amongst any significant news (or just through organized parties), many popular animation YouTube regularly sing their praises about it. And the more time passes, particularly when a new book releases, the more significantly it blows up in attention compared to the previous occasion. And there have been a multitude of different reasons why this is; some positive, some negative, that I hope to clarify here to those who may not be familiar with the full context.
If you don't know, the series is about a mysterious locomotive that entices troubled people to come on board, only for them to end up in a sort of purgatory with a seemingly endless number of train cars to go through, each one their own little world and selected to cater to each passenger's journey. Their progress on their journey is marked these ominous glowing numbers on their hands, and it's up to them to solve puzzles, encounter various friends, foes, and everywhere in-between along the way, and most importantly, work through their problems in order to earn their exit. Put simply, this concept lends itself to a virtually endless treasure trove of possibilities, in not only the train cars themselves but the types of people that traverse through the train, and they take advantage of every opportunity to a caliber even the smartest of viewers probably wouldn't see coming.
More importantly, the series itself stands out in many ways that most western animated shows aren't allowed to do, and were basically unthinkable 20 years ago. It opts for an anthology format; where, while there's certainly a clear continuity and timeline going on, with some 'books' even showing clear connections between each other; each book is a completely different story with its own structure, cast of characters (with a handful of regulars), and distinct flavor that can easily be enjoyed as independent entities. This allows for major flexibility in storytelling techniques, where you can go from a story very simplistic in concept but very dramatic and nuanced in execution, to a complicated morality tale dripping with emotional highs and lows every step of the way. Even the episodes within the books mix things up a lot, with some cars existing to be a challenge for the passengers to overcome and others being a backdrop for some deep discussion or revelation.
But no matter what the plot of the current episode or book, the tone isn't afraid to go in all sorts of different directions. For as much despair and peril as all the characters go through, there's just as many scenes where they are able to just calmly enjoy each other's company and have a little fun. And both of these extremes always come specifically when they're welcome and feel actively beneficial to the story. Whenever something horribly dark and dramatic happens, it is always given the focus and devotion it deserves. But the exact same is true when something incredibly comforting comes as well. Then there's many other scenes where there's so many different mixed emotions and gives the viewers a lot to think about, as will be discussed a little more detail later. On top of that, any unnerving real-life implications that would be worked around in most other cartoons, like them essentially disappearing off the face of the Earth in real time, or the fact these characters are constantly in life-threatening dangers - while not overtly played up in the show itself, are consistently present.
The way it balances so many different tried and true techniques, with some new ambitions for western animation, is such a fantastic mix that knows how to bring in people of all ages. Owen Dennis's ambition is to create something that is made with kids in mind, but in a way that completely trusts them to handle subject matter and ideas that they didn't know they were ready for. It's like riding on a rollercoaster for the first time, it's rather scary at first but to many, once they get a taste they are in for the thrill. And if anything, teens would be attracted into it even more because not only do they make up most of the main protagonists, but the situations connect well to their typically cynical outlook on life around that time. But they're still universal and thought-provoking enough for even adults to keep their eyes glued from start to finish.
But of course, it only does an anthology series so much justice to talk about the broad themes and elements. So I am going to briefly go into each book and the themes and appeal of each of the four stories we got.
The first book, "The Perennial Child", follows a teenage aspiring game designer named Tulip who is upset that her parents' divorce is preventing her from going to her desired summer camp. Once on the train, she encounters creatures like a bipolar robot looking for his 'mum', a shrewd talking cat eager to take advantage of her, and a corgi with a lot of proud authority on his shoulders. For most of it, Tulip travels from car to car, each tackling a different trait of hers, from almost being trapped in her clouded memories to having to confront her own rebellious reflection. But things get even more intriguing when a mysterious conductor tracks her down for getting in the way of their grand plan... which boils down to Tulip having to learn a valuable lesson that she never knew she needed to learn.
This may all sound pretty basic, and on the surface level it kind of is, but it boasts the sort of masterful execution where there's all sort of layers to peel. Tulip is written in a refreshingly matter-of-fact way, where a lot of character shines through but she mostly reacts to it in a way you'd expect a person like her realistically would. Every line that comes out of her sounds very natural, with Ashley Johnson's vocal performance only adding to the immersion. And even the most mundane and seemingly redundant of plot points have multiple dimensions and meanings to them. Even beyond each car's challenge connecting back to her own life in some form (no matter how subtle), the amount of detail in the technicals is nothing short of incredible. One of the more bizarre concepts - "The Unfinished Car" - is filled to the brim with various background hints, some extremely hard to spot, that pay off big time by the end, and that's just to name one example. If I listed them all, we'd be here all day, so let's move on to where the show goes from here.
So remember the reflection of Tulip I briefly mentioned in book 1? Turns out she's the lead of book 2 ("Cracked Reflection"), trying to make a new path for herself on the train while escaping for her life from the mirror police. But amidst this, Mirror Tulip (MT) encounters a passenger named Jessie, a pushover and people-pleaser that she reluctantly goes along with at first. But the more cars they go through, the closer they become as comrades, forming a bond that even the train may not be able to split apart. This story takes what we learned about the train in book 1 and throws in a couple major twists to keep things interesting, on top of discovering much more near the end like what actually happens to the passengers when they first hop on. It's admittedly more of a slow burn, as a lot of the front half feels like meandering, but it's more than worth it for the major emotional impact it leaves near the end. Not to mention MT proves very strong and admirable in her quest for independence and validation, which - considering she's going against authority in the name of self-identity - can very easily be interpreted as a trans allegory.
Book 3, "Cult of the Conductor", is a much more drastic shift. This one looks at a resistance known as the Apex, spreading chaos across the train and refusing to let their numbers go down. The grown up leaders, Grace and Simon, end up getting lost from the rest of the cult, and upon trying to find their way back they encounter a very upbeat, unusual girl named Hazel who doesn't have a working number. Over time, Grace starts to question the path she set in all the time she's spent on the train, while Simon remains focused on the prize, no matter what he must resort to. All this starts out pretty lighthearted, literally opening with a classy musical number, but that winds up being a false sense of security as it culminates in an onslaught of traumatization, actual torture, and an infamous death scene that's quite gruesome for a TV-PG show. It's also the kind of story that isn't content to give the audience all the answers. So much is left open to interpretation, particularly the ending which, without spoiling much, clearly wants the audience - young and old alike - to come out thinking about their own experiences, which I find extremely admirable.
And for book 4, named "Duet", the crew made the smart decision to take a break from the borderline scarring material in favor of a much mellow story. Taking place in the 1980s, two lifelong friends Ryan and Min-Gi who have dreams of starting a band end up having a nasty separation and falling-out. This leads to them ending up on the train together with seemingly synced numbers and having to deal with a strange bell named Kez throughout their journey. That said, just because this takes on a lighter tone, with probably the least chances taken of all four books, doesn't mean they don't prove their prowess in visual storytelling. The first episode alone has a beautifully-crafted sequence of the two going their separate ways between encounters that one could literally write a college essay about, which perfectly sets the stage of what's to come. And the more character-driven focus allows for both the leads and their conflicts to be some of the most fleshed out we've seen from this series, leading to their bickering and subsequent resolution to feel all the more believable and satisfying.
Obviously I could go in much more detail about all of these books, as you may have noticed I only glanced over them here. I have done a little insight into the genius cinematography in certain episodes of book 1, and may well break into the others in the future. However, I simply do not have the time to do so here, and there are many fans online who have looked at the specifics in more detail than I could ever hope to. But hopefully I've painted enough of a broad canvas to convey the show's appeal at large.
Part of the fandom's persistence stems from a certain feeling you'll inevitably get from watching book 4. Every so often, you get glimpses of beloved character Amelia Hughes (a cynical English feminist desperate to hold onto the past), and with it taking place decades prior to the others, you know there's a fascinating backstory there. Doubled with the more laid back tone, which resembles a 'calm before the storm' sort of vibe, and you can tell there were plans for more if you haven't already. And sure enough, not only were there 8 books that creator Owen Dennis had in mind, but the fifth book - which did manage to begin production, having a finished script and even some storyboards - was going to entirely center on Amelia and take all we've learned from her previous appearances together. However, as revealed by Owen himself in a Q&A shortly after book 4 released, the completed work was rejected by Cartoon Network due to the lack of a 'child entry point' and the show as a whole canned due to it clashing what the new management desires, as what sadly often happens with these overhauls.
To say the least, this logic really seems to go against the aforementioned all -ages appeal of the show. Kids watch dramas, action films, and reality shows with their parents all the time, and much like those types of media, many of the conflicts that are addressed in Infinity Train are ones applicable to their life, even if it may vary in scale. Many kids have parents that go through divorce and have it indirectly interfere with their own lives. Many kids have issues with self-identity thanks to the number of anti-LGBT people there are in the world, including government officials. And many kids certainly know what it means for a loved one to die and the difficulties one can get in moving on, which was the intended theme of book 5. Even having an adult woman as a protagonist shows a certain tone-deafness on their end, since adult leads are prevalent in the vast majority of what kids already watch, even looking far beyond the aforementioned genres.
Thus, the fans on Twitter have taken it upon themselves to ensure that this 5th book - which was incidentally made to be a movie - gets made, if not all 8 that have been planned. Owen Dennis himself has given the movement his full backing, as he's been clearly disgruntled about the series' cancellation on multiple occasions, and wants to make sure the fans act as constructively as possible about it. And with how much the show has gradually increased in popularity overtime, and with how incredibly persistent the fans have proven to be (to the point where it's frequently trending on the likes of Twitter), I genuinely think it's possible for CN and WarnerMedia to see the error of their ways and make things right. If you want to help us make this a reality, start by watching the show yourself to see what you yourself get out of it, be it on HBO Max itself or whatever other source is within your reach (being 4 sets of 10 eleven-minute episodes doesn't even make it too long a haul). And then tell your friends about it and sing your praises on social media as much as you're comfortable.
Hopefully I've helped swayed your opinion on this wonderful, groundbreaking series, and hopefully together we can make a difference in ensuring the infinity train reaches its most anticipated stop.
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