Often proclaimed as one of the best cartoon series of all time, Adventure Time is the timeless kind of kid’s show that embodies the epitome of child-like wonder, leaving its spin-off, Fionna and Cake, with big shoes to fill. Too frequently, the fatal flaw of spin-off shows has been the effort wasted trying to outshine their source media. Fionna and Cake, on the other hand, proves itself as a series with its own personality that doesn’t hinge its success on being the nepotism baby of Cartoon Network’s magnum opus.
While still keeping elements of charming, absurdist humor, more adult themes are explored and recognizable characters are transformed to work in tandem with this revamp. Fionna (Madeleine Martin) and Cake (Roz Ryan) themselves don’t serve as replacements for Finn and Jake either. They still host their own distinct personalities much different from an audacious boy and his witty talking dog; Fionna is a depressed 20-something who is lost in her purpose in life and her messy apartment, and the authenticity of her character persists even as the plot progresses into a magical setting like Adventure Time. The storyline kept me completely engaged with an underlying sense of mystery in its plot boosted by its animation style that gravitated to dynamic angles paired with melodramatic lighting, establishing itself as a serialized series, rather than an episodic one like its predecessor. I loved seeing parts of the new cast, such as Marshall Lee (Donald Glover), a genderbent and human version of Adventure Time’s beloved bass-playing vampire queen, Marceline (Olivia Olson), appear as a musician surviving his way through the city. Parts of the old cast returned as well, such as a cameo from Marceline and Bubblegum (Hynden Walch), an aged up Finn (Jeremy Shada), and the most essential character, Simon Petrakov (Tom Kenny), better known as the Ice King and the brain in which the universe of Fionna and Cake exists in. Simon’s journey of finding Betty, a tearjerker of the series, is expanded as he is forced to confront his past in a magical, abstract way that’s still grounded in realistic feelings of alienation and purpose, wrapped with conclusions that aren’t overtly satisfyingly joyous. It’s clear Fionna and Cake is a love letter to the world of Adventure Time, continued and elaborated on, but on its own it’s simply a profound, mature cartoon that deals with growing pains, purpose, and acceptance.