Jungle Moon starts with a bang. Several, actually, as the title fades away but we linger on its shot of deep space, pulling us right back to the aftermath of Stevonnie’s dogfight aboard the Star Skipper. They’re more frustrated than concerned with the danger at first, but as Lars’s feed and then the ship’s display cut out, there’s nothing to distract from the terror of crashing.

That panic lingers for a bit when they surface, saved by a bubble and thankfully able to breathe, but Stevonnie continues to alternate between “we” and “I” as they talk themselves through several understandable worries. Still, the landscape is incredible, between the diversity of fauna and flora and the husk of a world hanging above them, and after the shock wears off and the magic of this alien world sets in, they don’t even need to take that deep of a breath to put those fears at rest.

Stevonnie combines Steven’s experience with missions and Connie’s survival prepping to navigate the Jungle Moon. Their montage fits right in with the likes of Samurai Jack or Dwayne McDuffie’s classic Justice League episode Hereafter in its comfort with long stretches of silent visual storytelling. The difference is that such sequences tend to feature adults, as the lead needs a certain level of competence and independence to work, but Jungle Moon is about two growing teens in the body of a grown teen making it on their own. So Stevonnie is still young enough to blow bubbles while drinking, to be amazed at every wonder this moon has to offer, and to debate the merits of eating a cute critter (Connie is pragmatic and Steven vetoes as hard as he can, and we don’t even need to use their names to know which is which). But at the same time, their body is older than either of their components, and it leads to a simple, game-changing element of their depiction: the stubble.

Stevonnie being nonbinary is such a given that even a toolbox like Kevin knows to use their correct pronoun. But most of their physical traits are traditionally coded feminine: they’ve got long hair and an exposed navel and curves, and they’re voiced by a woman to boot. Now, obviously you can present feminine and be nonbinary—this is a show created by a feminine-presenting nonbinary woman that stars an entire race of feminine-presenting nonbinary aliens—but the stubble not only shows us the passage of time that facial hair connotes, but acts as a masculine-coded trait to make Stevonnie’s identity crystal clear to audience members that still haven’t picked up on it, especially young viewers conditioned to think on binary terms. And it’s effortless, only focused on briefly as Stevonnie admires a sword shave, because Steven Universe has always known that queer folks are normal folks so there’s no need to make a fuss about it. We get right back to running away from giant monsters and exploring alien ruins, and it’s awesome.



So yeah, we’re already doing great. This is already an excellent adventure, a continued breath of fresh air after Lars of the Stars as we return to the show’s old formula of a field trip episode. AJ Michalka is already killing it as Stevonnie, and Aivi and Surasshu are already laying down gorgeous background tracks, and veteran Jeff Liu’s team-up with brand-new storyboarder Miki Brewster (I cannot believe this is somebody’s first episode) is already a total success. I already love everything about it.







And then Stevonnie falls asleep, and Jungle Moon begins.



“I hate it when she ignores me.”

I don’t mean to be dismissive of Jungle Moon’s first half; far from it, it’s nuts that a story that could’ve coasted until the dream instead provides Steven Universe’s best adventure episode in just under five minutes. But the dream is still the main event, and it makes the whole “best adventure episode” thing even more nuts by being Steven Universe’s best dream sequence.



The dream is right up there with the third act of Mirror Gem, the last scene of Winter Forecast, and the first act of Beta as one of the show’s absolute perfect sequences. The sort of thing you can watch over and over and over again in a bubble, and no matter how hard you try, it refuses to stop being a marvel of storytelling. These scenes each set a transcendent tone that allows us to go beyond reacting to how a character is feeling: we’re instead sucked right into that moment with them. The emotions these masterpieces invoke elude simple description: there’s no one word or phrase that can capture the sensation of Steven realizing that his universe is much bigger than he thought, or of two best friends staying up late to watch the snow fall, or of an art exhibit ran by two alien refugees in an abandoned barn. Or, in this case, of two kids channeling their difficult relationships with their mothers into a dream that features both kids and both mothers, but also features neither kid and neither mother.



Jungle Moon uses the same structure for dreams that we got in Lion 3, Chille Tid, and Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service, where a dream with a straightforward meaning (or in Lion 3′s case a reality that feels dreamlike) is preceded by a nonsense dream that’s ironically more realistic, because actual dreams tend to be nonsense. Sure, there are snippets of meaning that can be gleaned from these sorts of dreams (both Steven’s and our own) but it takes some heavy lifting on our part to interpret what it might mean when, say, Steven dreams that the main Gems in his life are humans in a sitcom.



But this time, while the weird nonsense mood of past first dreams persists, the living room segment has immediately comprehensible implications. And that by itself not only makes Jungle Moon stand out, but makes the other dream episodes I mentioned even better by feeling like the buildup to a version of Steven whose powers are so strong that everything is clearer. (They eventually become so clear that he can project dreams into screens, but let’s not get into Future just yet.)

The perfection of the dream begins before the scene even starts: this show almost never uses fadeout transitions, but that’s how Stevonnie drifts into slumber, and it makes the jolt to a new setting all the starker. We go from gradual darkness to a sudden pink and cream backdrop, from silence to sudden ambient humming as Stevonnie emerges from the ground, snoring and drooling until they recognize the unfamiliar texture of a rug, leading to another moment of silence. We get a simulated dolly zoom as they realize they’re in a giant version of Connie’s living room, but they never acknowledge the strange size, because this show understands that we accept pretty much everything in dreams.



But then, as Dr. Maheswaran finishes her momentous rise from the rug (cue more ominous sound design), we zoom out. From now until the end of the living room scene, the camera looks down on Stevonnie and looks up at Dr. Maheswaran, unless it’s a wide enough shot to show huge portions of the room around our hero: my favorite shot of the sequence is when the camera refuses to zoom in or budge as our hero scampers up the couch and onto the side table. It all works together to reveal that this world isn’t huge: Stevonnie is small. Because Connie is small. Because Steven is small.



Because, if there’s one thing this episode teaches us, it’s that Rose Quartz was big, but Pink Diamond was small.

Yellow Diamond was introduced in a conversation with Peridot, and Blue Diamond was introduced in a conversation with Greg. Steven, our viewpoint character, only speaks with them in The Trial after both appeared twice (once in their debuts and once in That Will Be All). The Diamonds arrive after being alluded to and whispered about well in advance, but their distance from Steven allows their mystique to hold firm even after we meet them.

Pink was always going to be different. For one thing, she plays a way bigger role in Steven’s journey than the other two Diamonds even before we learn the truth about her identity, as the story of her shattering is a pivotal moment in his life. We also have a more detailed impression of her than we did of her predecessors prior to their introductions: at this point we already understand that her enemies feared and hated her, Homeworld loyalists are devoted to her memory, and her sisters remain devastated by her death. And of course, in retrospect, we know that her gem is right there in Steven and Stevonnie’s gut. So after Steven meets two Diamonds indirectly, we jump right past the step of having him talk to a new Diamond to having him embody one.

But, and this is one of the many brilliant parts of the dream, it’s still indirect! Because despite what I just said, Steven isn’t embodying Pink Diamond. Stevonnie is, and Stevonnie fuses Steven’s childhood frustration of not being treated like an equal member of his group/family with Connie’s childhood in a strict household, and you need both to get Pink. There’s a reason the beginning of the dream is in Connie’s house, with Connie’s mom taking the place of Yellow Diamond: Steven doesn’t have a Yellow Diamond in his life, so he needs to tap into his friend’s emotions to feel the full weight of Pink’s life in a harsher family than his own. Neither kid could make this connection alone, but together they’re able to understand the core essence of this childish, impatient, belittled, furious Gem.

Another one of those brilliant parts is that while Dr. Maheswaran stands in for Yellow Diamond from the start, discussing an invasion in her phone call before she’s even done rising from the rug, it takes a while for Stevonnie to become Pink: before we transition to the moon base, they recognize Connie’s living room, share the same confusion we do about what’s going on, and refer to the giant woman as “Mom.” But after knowing how the rest of the dream will shake out, their connection to Pink is visible even in the first half. Beyond the element of size, we have the best line of the episode, the one I chose as the review’s header quote because it’s the one moment where Stevonnie and Pink Diamond are in total sync. Whether it’s Dr. Maheswaran on a phone call or Yellow Diamond commanding a nephrite, you never feel smaller than when you’re ignored.



On that note, let’s step back a moment to give a standing ovation to AJ Michalka, whose sullen read on that line is just one of the many emotions she weaves her way through as the lead of Jungle Moon. This is the only episode of the series or its epilogue without Zach Callison, and Michalka takes over so well that I didn’t even notice until my third or fourth viewing. She’s always been a master of voicing not only her own character, but the elements of Steven and Connie within that character as they talk to each other through Stevonnie; Deedee Magno Hall and Charlyne Yi are terrific at voicing multiple distinct Gems (as is Kimberly Brooks in Future), but Michalka has the added challenge of portraying characters that are normally voiced by other actors, actors we hear a lot more of than her, and she never falters. And now she voices another character, one who’s similar to Stevonnie but still has to sound distinct, and she nails it again. When we enter the second half of the dream, we don’t even need the new setting or Dr. Maheswaran’s epic wardrobe change to tell that the Stevonnie Michalka plays on the moon base isn’t Stevonnie anymore.

While Michalka shifts her performance from Stevonnie to Pink, Mary Elizabeth McGlynn doubles down on the absolute authority of Dr. Maheswaran and Yellow Diamond to maintain an brutal front through both halves of the dream. She barely deigns to acknowledge Pink’s presence until she makes a big enough fuss, so of course Pink has learned to be fussy. When Pink says she wants a colony, we already sense that it’s the millionth time she’s asked; Yellow doesn’t respond with words, but presses her console’s insignia to play the four-note Diamond motif and reinforce that there’s a strict hierarchy at play. White comes first, then Yellow and Blue, and then, if there’s time, Pink gets a turn. That same droning music accompanies the conversation throughout, but while the Diamonds’ warped harmonette usually provides a smooth transition between notes, Pink’s note bursts out whenever she talks, interrupting that easy flow.



Everything we need to know about Pink Diamond is right here. She’s in every way a little kid: excitable, entranced by the prospect of playing with her big sister’s toys, frustrated when she isn’t listened to, and prone to tantrums. She’s got all the whimsical fun that makes the Diamonds see her as an entertainer and Spinel see her as a playmate, all the burning desire to prove herself that Pearl remembers, and all the burning rage that her other pearl remembers. She’s almost musical as she stamps her foot and demands an army and a planet: even in her fury, it’s easy to not take her seriously. But it’s telling that when we finally see a glimpse of Pink, it’s in a moment of violence. This isn’t just a silly Gem who wants to play grown-up, this is a Diamond who’s as capable of destruction as her sisters.



We of course need to get Stevonnie back home safely, so the story doesn’t end here. While the sense of familiarity they have with the location before they fall asleep hints that Stevonnie and Pink Diamond are more connected than they appear, the dream is followed by Steven’s half telling Connie’s half that they’re having Diamond dreams again, allowing an alternate interpretation to present itself: just like Steven’s unusually direct dream that led to meeting Blue, Stevonnie had an unusually direct dream about Yellow and Pink. Sure, evidence is mounting that Rose might be Pink (which fans had been theorizing for ages at this point, just as they’d theorized that Garnet was a fusion well before Jailbreak), but Jungle Moon is smart to muddy the water here. Can’t make it too easy to guess.



An underrated joy of this episode, largely because the first two segments are so huge, is that it reflects the experience of rewatching old episodes with new context: Jungle Moon begins with Stevonnie staring at the dead planet above them in awe, but now they look again with new eyes and realize just what happened to it. What was once mysterious and beautiful can now be seen as the result of past horrors, which is basically Steven’s life story.



We get one last joke with Yellow Pearl’s selfie on the throne (she loves modeling, what can I say?) and one last action scene as Lars scares off the delightful bird/wheel/umbrella alien that forced Stevonnie to hide in the base in the first place. But everything that Jungle Moon wanted to say has been said, and it ends with one last drone from that harmonette, cutting to black with the same brief return to the episode’s killer tone that we got in the final clanging from On the Run’s first look at the Kindergarten.

If it somehow wasn’t clear by now, Jungle Moon is exceptional. The mystery of Pink Diamond’s shattering was last addressed in The Trial, and while it was the right call for a show about Steven’s life for lore to take a backseat as he reexamines and rebuilds his relationship with Connie, it means we’ve had ten episodes to think about Blue Zircon’s dismantling of the story that shaped the series. It was always going to be exciting to return to the mystery after so much personal drama, but because Steven Universe is Steven Universe, this return excels by making Pink Diamond’s drama feel personal.



We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

What do you get when you combine the best adventure episode in the series with the best dream sequence in the series? You get in my top ten.



Top Twenty-Five

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6. Horror Club

5. Fusion Cuisine

4. House Guest

3. Onion Gang

2. Sadie’s Song

1. Island Adventure