Puella Magi Madoka Magica (Part One) – Careful What You Wish For
Puella Magi Madoka Magica (hereafter PMMM) is widely regarded as one of the most significant anime series of the 2010s. From the very opening scene, the work of the Magica Quartet—consisting of director Akiyuki Shinbo, producer Atsuhiro Iwakami, screenwriter Gen Urobuchi, and character designer Ume Aoki—captivates viewers with its distinctive style. But the PMMM franchise wouldn’t be what it is without its characters or the world they inhabit—or the intense homosexuality they radiate…
While the exterior is adorned with the classic Mahō Shōjo imagery, the narrative unravels a complex web of gendered exploitation, coming-of-age, and resilience in the face of a seemingly unavoidable destiny. As expected, PMMM was developed to build upon the foundation established by its predecessor, the Shinbo-directed Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha, which also addressed mature topics. A decision influenced by that show’s target demographic of late-night older viewers.
Although it never fully conceals its intentions, PMMM employs the expected patterns of its genre to lull viewers into a false sense of security, only to shatter that security when it reveals its subversive nature. The show reimagines classic Mahō Shōjo tropes—such as the cute mascot Kyubey, the transformation trinket Soul Gems, and the monster-of-the-week Witches—as the perpetrator, means, and victims of a system invested in the oppression of its subjects. This system specifically targets vulnerable and susceptible pubescent girls, reducing them to proletariat by extraterrestrial beings who show little regard for their well-being.

The members of our Holy Quintet—Madoka Kaname, Homura Akemi, Sayaka Miki, Kyoko Sakura, and Mami Tomoe—could not be more different from one another. Yet, they are all connected by an emptiness they want to fill. For some, such as Sayaka and Mami, the emptiness sets in once their wish has been granted. Others, such as Madoka and Homura, experience it beforehand. Sayaka is notable for exemplifying the cautionary tales “Be careful what you wish for” and “Don’t deal with the Devil.” She undergoes an experience that is deeply reminiscent of that of a sexual assault victim.
After witnessing the demise of the experienced and solitary Mami, Sayaka is acutely aware of the risks and societal ramifications associated with entering into a contract with Kyubey. However, if it means improving the life of her disabled romantic interest, Kyosuke, she is willing to take the risk. She asserts that she could never regret her selfless wish. Despite the ideological challenge posed by Kyoko’s survivalist approach, her unwavering commitment to justice as a Magical Girl remains constant. But as the sinister machinations of the Magical Girl system are unveiled and we are shed light on the extent of Kyubey’s control over her body autonomy, her life undergoes a gradual collapse.
Sayaka distances herself from Kyousuke out of self-disgust after realizing the extent to which Kyubey has irreversibly altered her body. She engages in self-harm while battling Witches and directs all her self-hatred toward Madoka. As I previously stated, it all metaphorically evokes the response of a SA victim to their distressing experience. Furthermore, she begins exhibiting suicidal tendencies, having become entrenched in the sunk-cost fallacy with regard to her beliefs, despite the fact that these beliefs could kill her. Even Kyoko’s attempts to empathize and establish a connection, given her own experience of a tragic loss stemming from a selfless wish, fail to bring her to her senses.

The downward spiral intensifies when Sayaka overhears a conversation that is profoundly misogynistic. This thrusts her into our somber reality, where matters are not always clear-cut and not all individuals are equally deserving of protection. Filled with despair and regret, her Soul Gem transforms into a Grief Seed, thereby paving the way for her to become a Witch. The monstrous entities that Magical Girls confront are, in fact, their own kind, perpetuating a cycle of harvesting that Kyubey, or more precisely the Incubators, maintain to avert chaotic entropy through strict control.
This system is utterly inescapable. Exemplified by the time-traveling Magical Girl Homura Akemi. She makes countless efforts to dismantle it to prevent Madoka’s death. However, in each time loop, she unwittingly perpetuates it by preventing Madoka from becoming a Magical Girl. This only serves to exacerbate Madoka’s feelings of inadequacy and render her more vulnerable to the influence of Kyubey. Furthermore, it is futile to try to avert the fates of the rest of the Holy Quintet. Attempting to defeat Walpurgisnacht—a horde of Witches fused into one entity—is a lost cause every time. But this is all that Homura knows. This is what the system has shaped her into.

The conclusion of PMMM is a poignant one, with Madoka making a wish that leads to the erasure of all Witches, both past and present. In the process, she makes a selfless sacrifice, transcending her physical existence to become the very essence of hope, effectively erasing her own existence. In this new, Witchless world, Homura is the only one with memories of Madoka. However, the malevolence of humanity rears its head once more in the form of Wraiths, and Magical Girls find themselves trapped again in a perpetual cycle of despair, now driven by the hope that they will eventually be guided to the Law of Cycles, Madoka’s Magical Girl Heaven.
The system has undergone negligible changes. A reassuring conclusion awaits all who serve it, yet it remains exploitative. In order to truly effect a change and embrace abolition, it would be necessary for someone to start a Rebellion against God. But that is a topic to be covered in the second part of this series.
