Serial Experiments Lain [Season 1 Episodes 1-13]

Alright, let’s dive into Serial Experiments Lain—a show that’s equal parts mind-bender and mood piece, and honestly, one of the most talked-about anime from the late ’90s. If you’re into weird, philosophical stuff that makes you go, “Wait, what just happened?” then this might be your jam. But fair warning: it’s not for everyone, and even if you love it, you might still be scratching your head by the end.

First off, let’s get the basics straight. Created by Yasuyuki Ueda, written by Chiaki J. Konaka, and directed by Ryūtarō Nakamura, Serial Experiments Lain aired in 1998 for 13 episodes. The animation studio was Triangle Staff, and the character designs are by Yoshitoshi Abe—you might know his work from Haibane Renmei, which has a similar dreamy, slightly eerie vibe. The show is set in a suburban Japan where the internet (called “the Wired”) is starting to take over people’s lives, but in a way that feels way ahead of its time. Like, this was before social media was even a thing, but it’s all about how online identities blur with real ones, and how technology can mess with your head.

The main character is Lain Iwakura, a quiet, awkward 14-year-old who’s basically a social outcast. She doesn’t have many friends, and her family is… well, distant. Her dad’s obsessed with computers, her mom’s always busy, and her sister is just kind of there. Then, one day, she gets an email from a classmate named Chisa Yomoda—who, uh, recently committed suicide. Chisa’s message is cryptic: “I’m not dead. I’ve just abandoned my body. I’m in the Wired now.” Creepy, right? That’s how Lain gets pulled into the Wired, and things only get weirder from there.

As Lain starts spending more time online, she meets all sorts of strange people, including a group called the Knights of the Eastern Calculus, who seem to know more about the Wired than they let on. She also starts changing—her personality shifts, she becomes more confident (or maybe just more detached?), and she even starts to question her own existence. Is she real? Is the Wired real? What’s the difference between the two? These are the kinds of questions the show throws at you, and it doesn’t exactly hand you answers on a silver platter.

Now, let’s talk about what fans are saying. From what I’ve seen, opinions are all over the place. Some people think Lain has Dissociative Identity Disorder, with her online self being a separate personality that eventually takes over. Others say she’s a god-like entity from the Wired who was put into a human body, and the show is about her merging back with her true self. There’s even a theory that the entire series is a metaphor for how the internet changes us—like, how we present different versions of ourselves online and how that affects our real lives.

One fan on MyAnimeList summed it up by saying, “Lain is a girl with Dissociative Identity Disorder slowly learning to connect to others using the internet and developing a new personality through online interactions, which she eventually brings forth into the real world.” Another user argued that Lain is the “collective god-like consciousness of the Wired” that was split and put into a human body, and by the end, she merges back into the Wired while keeping her human form. But honestly, the show is so ambiguous that there’s no one “right” interpretation. That’s part of its charm—you can watch it multiple times and still get something new out of it.

What’s really striking about Serial Experiments Lain is its atmosphere. The animation is dark and moody, with lots of close-ups of Lain’s face, empty streets, and glitchy computer screens. The soundtrack is minimalistic, with eerie electronic beats that make you feel like you’re in a dream (or a nightmare). It’s not action-packed—there’s no big fight scenes or flashy magic. Instead, it’s slow, deliberate, and focuses on building tension and unease.

But here’s the thing: some people love that ambiguity, and others hate it. One fan admitted, “I just finished the show. Didn’t understand shit.” Another said, “I gave it a higher score for the same reason. I love when a show is open-ended and ambiguous and forces me to theorize.” It’s definitely a show that rewards active watching—you can’t just zone out and expect to follow along. You have to pay attention to the little details, the dialogue, and the visual cues.

Another big theme is identity. Lain starts off as this shy, introverted girl, but as she spends more time in the Wired, she becomes someone else. She’s not just Lain anymore—she’s the “Wired Lain,” the “Real Lain,” and maybe even a god. The show asks: if you can be anyone online, who are you really? Is your online persona a part of you, or is it a separate entity? These are questions that feel even more relevant today, with social media letting us curate our lives and present idealized versions of ourselves.

There’s also a lot of techno-philosophy here. The Wired is presented as a parallel world, almost like a digital afterlife. Some characters believe that the Wired is the next stage of human evolution, where people can exist without bodies. Others see it as a threat, a place where people lose touch with reality. The show doesn’t take sides—it just presents these ideas and lets you think about them.

Now, let’s get into the episodes. The first few are pretty slow, setting up the world and Lain’s character. But by episode 5 or 6, things start to get really trippy. There are scenes where Lain is in multiple places at once, where her family doesn’t recognize her, and where the Wired starts bleeding into the real world. One of the most memorable moments is when Lain’s dad gives her a new computer, and she upgrades it so much that it becomes a massive, glowing machine that takes over her room. It’s like her online life is physically taking over her real one.

The ending is… well, let’s just say it’s not happy, but it’s not exactly sad either. Lain realizes that she’s a part of the Wired, and she decides to merge with it, effectively erasing herself from the real world. But she leaves a little piece of herself behind—her friends and family don’t remember her, but they have this vague sense that someone was there. It’s bittersweet, and it leaves you wondering: did Lain choose this, or was it inevitable?

So, who is this show for? If you’re into psychological thrillers, cyberpunk, or existential philosophy, you’ll probably love it. If you prefer your anime with clear plots and happy endings, you might want to skip it. But even if you don’t “get” it, it’s worth watching just for the atmosphere and the ideas it explores.

In conclusion, Serial Experiments Lain is a cult classic for a reason. It’s a show that makes you think, that stays with you long after you’ve finished watching, and that’s still relevant 25 years later. It’s not perfect—some episodes drag, and the ambiguity can be frustrating—but it’s a unique, bold piece of art that deserves to be talked about. So, if you’re feeling adventurous, give it a watch. Just don’t be surprised if you end up spending hours online trying to figure out what it all means.

And hey, if you do watch it, let me know what you think. Are you team “Lain is a god” or team “Lain has DID”? Or do you have a completely different theory? The beauty of this show is that there’s no wrong answer—just your own interpretation.

Serial Experiments Lain: it’s not just an anime, it’s an experience. And whether you love it or hate it, you’ll never forget it.

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Note: This review is based on the 13-episode series and fan discussions. If you’re new to the show, I recommend going in blind—no spoilers, no explanations. Let the weirdness wash over you.