Persona 5 Obsession: Why Fans Keep Loving Live-Action Game Adaptations
It has been nearly ten years since my brother first pushed me to play Persona 5, and somehow that one recommendation turned into a full-on obsession. Over the years I’ve found new ways to engage with the JRPG—tracking down and speaking with the English voice cast behind some of my favorite characters, filling my office with posters and collectible figures, lamenting that I couldn’t make it to the official concert, and even diving into the anime, the manga, and a handful of tattoos inspired by the series.
So when Persona 6 got announced recently, I assumed I was essentially “done” experiencing Persona 5 in fresh ways. Then I opened Instagram and saw a story from Xander Mobus—the English voice of Joker—sharing updates about a live-action project. In classic social-media fashion, he also joked about who someone should contact if they wanted him involved.
The screenplay is being handled by Christopher Monfette, who has written for Picard.
Persona 5 Royal remains one of my favorite games ever, largely because it nails both its emotional storytelling and its overall style. In a universe where this news instantly translated to joy, I’d be celebrating right now. But in my real timeline—where live-action attempts at anime-adjacent material often end up disappointing—I just ended up sighing.
Who Are Live-Action Adaptations Even For?
I’m old enough to remember when I was six and found a copy of the 1993 Super Mario Bros movie on VHS at my local library. Even with a Nintendo 64 waiting at home, my brother and I were just as excited as any kids could be, and we grabbed the tape without much thought. Still, even back then, we couldn’t fully make sense of what we were seeing.
I’ll always have a soft spot for Daisy, and I’ll happily talk up her place in the franchise—so why was she treated like the centerpiece of a grim, dystopian nightmare? Why were the Bros charging through the murky sewer world of Dinohattan instead of taking an adventure through the colorful, cartoony Mushroom Kingdom? And why did the plot appear to frame their mission as saving her from one of the most unsettling portrayals of Bowser imaginable?
I had those questions in 1999, and I’m still asking them in 2026. Seriously—what was that movie doing?
After growing up alongside so many awkward live-action takes on properties I care about, I almost convinced myself I’d reached a point where I could shrug off the weirdness. We’ve already seen a Sonic the Hedgehog look that triggered enough backlash that Paramount reportedly got bullied into delaying the film and revising the design, and then there was Ghost in the Shell, where casting choices put Scarlett Johansson in the spotlight.
Even with all that history, Hollywood keeps pushing these projects forward. With nerd culture so mainstream now, it’s hard to imagine studios walking away from the chance to grab a share of the profits—especially when video game adaptations keep showing that they can reliably perform.
My brother and I kept watching the bad versions anyway, even after we grew up. We saw the Attack on Titan duology together in 2015, laughing at the Titans’ appearance while not laughing about the plot decisions. Then in 2017, we turned Death Note into a drinking game—taking a sip whenever something made us cringe, and ultimately pausing with a sizable chunk of the movie still remaining so our livers could survive the night.
Some Stories Should Not Be Second Screen Experiences
To be fair, live-action adaptations have improved since those early misfires. Shows such as The Last of Us, Fallout, Arcane, and One Piece have shown that you can adapt material while still making smart choices of your own, creating a balance between staying faithful and taking creative liberties. But I can’t shake a different worry: in the age of “second screen viewing,” where people put content on in the background while they scroll, Netflix may lean harder on exposition than the story deserves—basically trying to hammer in context so viewers don’t fall behind.
Avatar offers an example of what that can look like when it goes wrong. The live-action show did decently during its first season, but once season two arrived, viewership reportedly dropped by more than half. Fans of the original animated series grew up with characters that felt vibrant and with a plot that was, for the most part, more involved and grounded. In contrast, the biggest criticism of the newer season is that the narrative leans on blunt, heavy-handed exposition—characters frequently end up standing around talking about the next steps instead of letting events breathe.
Persona, though, is a different beast entirely. The series is dense and layered, with systems and themes that unfold across long stretches. In a game, it’s natural for friends and party members to gather and discuss the current objective, because you’re signing up for an experience that can easily take around 80 hours. In a live-action format with a limited number of episodes, you don’t get that same luxury. If Netflix adapts live-action versions of beloved stories like this—whether they come from games or anime—there’s a real risk that something that once felt sharp and bright in its original form could start feeling recycled, generic, or strangely uninspired.
Christopher Monfette is also attached as director. He’s coming from a gaming-journalism background, and he clearly isn’t unfamiliar with nerd culture—though he’s also credited with the viral 9-1-1 trailer that online communities have dubbed “Avengers: Doomsday for moms.” So at this point, the only honest response is to wait and see what he actually brings to Persona.
What makes me more cautious is that live-action adaptations often become the first exposure point for huge numbers of people. With One Piece, for example, some viewers have started to feel that the live-action version makes the story easier to approach, largely because casual audiences may not have time to commit to nearly 1,200 episodes of anime. There’s still no official word on which Persona entry will be adapted, but since Persona 5 helped bring the franchise to Western audiences in a more mainstream way—and since Atlus has repeatedly shown it’s willing to drop the Phantom Thieves into whatever it can—I can’t imagine them straying too far from one of the most beloved JRPGs ever made.
With so many live-action spins on games and anime ending up rough around the edges, part of me wants to believe that a bad Persona adaptation can’t possibly be in the cards—that you won’t see it coming. But until the show itself shows its hand, I don’t think my reluctance is just stubborn pessimism. If anything, my hesitation comes from the same place as my other self’s skepticism: Netflix has plenty of “Shadows” to prove it can overcome before I fully give in and hit play.
