What motivates a defense attorney who deals with the Yakuza and petty criminals? Netflix’s new legal drama series, *Sins of Kujo*, attempts to find a fitting answer. Defense attorneys are often the subject of intense speculation, simply because much of their work requires them to completely switch off their moral compass. But what is a human being without a strong sense of morality? Well, according to our protagonist, Taiza Kujo, he is the guarantor of the legal system. The law treats everyone equally, which means that even the worst of criminals deserves a competent lawyer to defend them in court.
If everyone aspired to become a prosecutor, an obvious imbalance would ensue. Kujo didn't care about his public image; for him, the only thing that mattered was performing his job to perfection—something that, obviously, did not sit well with everyone around him. The series, consisting of ten episodes, tackles a new case in almost every installment while simultaneously developing an overarching storyline involving the Yakuza.
Stars: Yûya Yagira, Hokuto Matsumura, Elaiza Ikeda
The series is based on the manga titled *Kujo no Taizai* by Shohei Manabe; fans of the original work will likely find this live-action adaptation thoroughly exciting. As someone unfamiliar with the manga, my review is based exclusively on the Netflix adaptation. To begin with, Kujo is an incredibly intriguing character, and the mystery surrounding him is very well crafted—especially since most of what we learn about him is revealed through the perspective of his new associate, Shinji Karasuma. Kujo is an extremely difficult character to decipher: one moment you might be convinced that he is utterly heartless, and the very next, he does something that forces you to question your own assessment all over again.
Those around Kujo repeatedly advised him against taking on cases where the evidence weighed heavily against his client and where it was patently obvious that the client had committed a crime. However, it proved impossible to convince Kujo to do so. He had a clear objective: to safeguard his client's best interests—a stance that, naturally, often led people to assume he was a despicable man utterly devoid of conscience. Kujo refused to be pigeonholed into a preconceived mold, yet at the same time, he displayed no airs of superiority.
He won impossible cases, yet he remained firmly grounded and never attempted to over-justify his stance merely to prove to the world that he was, in fact, a good man. Karasuma’s sense of curiosity adds a fascinating layer to his character, and together, the two form a delightful mentor-and-apprentice duo. His goal was to understand Kujo, and he soon realized that this would not be as simple as he had imagined.
Karasuma could easily have judged Kujo’s character based on public knowledge and their shared history; instead, however, he chose to work alongside him in order to form an opinion grounded in his own personal experience. Karasuma often found his assumptions challenged: Kujo managed to win cases that he himself had considered lost causes, and there were days when he couldn't help but wonder if Kujo might be a good lawyer, yet a poor human being. The more time he spent with Kujo, the deeper his affection for him grew.
The friendship—or brotherhood—between Kujo and Karasuma is, without a doubt, the highlight of the series. They were two very different individuals, and precisely for that reason, it is so fascinating to watch how their friendship is forged. The fact that Kujo and Karasuma had crossed paths once before—back when they were quite young, and during a case of an intensely personal nature for Karasuma (no *spoilers* here)—adds an extra layer of intrigue to the plot.
I believe that anyone in Karasuma’s shoes would have loathed Kujo; yet, rather than holding a grudge, he chose to give him a chance. Yuya Yagira delivers a powerful performance in the role of Kujo, making the character's contradictions feel entirely believable. He is, at once, innocent and wise; humble, yet ruthless in the courtroom; a loyal friend—yet one you know would, if the situation demanded it, go to war alongside you in the courtroom without a moment's hesitation to defend his client! Hokuto Matsumura, for his part, brings a great sense of authenticity to his portrayal of Karasuma. There are moments when he feels utterly frustrated with Kujo, and while he is compelled to make difficult decisions, his admiration for his mentor never wavers.
Unlike typical legal dramas—where the protagonist is usually either a lawyer of impeccable moral character or a hopeless, alcoholic defense attorney with a complicated personal life who takes cases simply to survive—*Sins of Kujo* manages to strike a balance between these two extremes. Consequently, we encounter an unexpected note of hope, complemented by a visual aesthetic featuring warm, luminous tones; at the same time, the presence of the Yakuza adds that extra dash of spice that keeps the viewer engaged and entertained.
The series can be classified as a lighthearted production, given that most cases are resolved within one or two episodes; one need not follow a complex narrative arc to grasp the story as a whole. I was eager to see Kujo work his magic in the courtroom, but, regrettably, that never actually happens—which proves to be quite disappointing. The main storyline is captivating, yet it drags on excessively; its true development largely begins only toward the end of the series. The fact that most of the events remain unresolved by the end of the first season may leave viewers feeling somewhat unsatisfied.
Furthermore, the series hints at the possibility of a future season—one in which we might reasonably expect the pacing to accelerate and for more intense action to unfold. Returning to the first season, I was left with the impression that a significant portion of the drama remained unfinished. The season focused primarily on character development—exploring the backstories of Karasuma and Kujo—and on building the narrative universe; while this certainly lends greater depth to the story, a lingering sense of dissatisfaction persists once the ten episodes have concluded.
Its underlying current of social commentary makes *Sins of Kujo* a highly compelling series. Most episodes center on individuals facing disadvantage—whether due to their economic circumstances, gender-based exploitation, fear of criminal gangs, or sheer loneliness. I wouldn't go so far as to call this J-drama *binge-worthy*, but it is interesting enough to keep you watching episode after episode. Undoubtedly, its runtime constitutes the series' greatest weakness—even bearing in mind that the best parts of the plot are revealed toward the very end. The fact that so much remains unsaid only heightens the sense of disappointment; however, if you don't mind waiting for a new season to get answers, *Sins of Kujo* is a series worth watching.
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