Inde Navarrette Studied Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer for Screenwriting

Inde Navarrette’s route into studying screenwriting began with a deceptively simple question: why do the anime series she loves work so well?

The actor, known for playing Nikki Freeman in Obsession, has said she spent an uncertain period between the completion and eventual release of that film streaming games on Twitch to make ends meet. At the same time, she turned her attention toward film and television storytelling, closely watching anime—particularly Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer—to identify the decisions that shaped her own response as a viewer.

That is a more active process than simply watching a favorite show again. Navarrette described moving from enjoying movies and anime to asking why specific structures, scenes and narrative choices connect. Her comparison between Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer focused on timeline: she sees the former as playing with chronology, while describing the latter as more linear. The purpose was not to declare one approach superior, but to understand what a chosen structure does to a story.

Watching anime as a screenwriting exercise

Navarrette said she dug into what makes Jujutsu Kaisen compelling and applied those observations to her own writing. One detail she highlighted is the delayed value of dialogue. A monologue delivered near the beginning of an episode can gain a different meaning much later, even after the character who gave it has died and the audience has learned more context.

In screenwriting terms, that is an example of setup and payoff. A setup introduces a piece of information, image, line or question; the payoff returns to it later, ideally changing the audience’s understanding or demonstrating why it mattered. The time between the two is important. A payoff that arrives instantly can feel like simple explanation, while one that arrives after later events have complicated the original moment can turn an earlier scene into something newly meaningful.

Navarrette’s point is also about timeline, meaning the order in which a story gives viewers information. A story may unfold in chronological order, with events presented as they happen. Or it may move around in time, using flashbacks, parallel threads, withheld facts or reframed memories. Nonlinear storytelling does not automatically make a story more intricate or more effective; it changes the questions the audience is asked to hold onto. It can create suspense around what happened, invite viewers to reinterpret earlier scenes, or make a character’s perspective clearer only after a crucial reveal.

A linear approach has its own strengths. It can make cause and effect especially easy to follow, concentrate attention on the immediate obstacle, and let emotional growth play out step by step. The useful lesson in Navarrette’s comparison is that structure should serve the feeling a storyteller wants to create. “Different” is not merely a stylistic label. It has consequences for pacing, tension, character knowledge and what the audience believes at any particular point.

Questions writers can take from Navarrette’s approach

Her method offers a practical framework for anyone studying storytelling through games, animation, television or film. Rather than trying to copy a favorite work’s surface details, start by isolating the effect and tracing the craft choices behind it.

What does the audience know, and when? Map when key information arrives. Does the work make viewers curious because they know less than the characters, or nervous because they know more?
What is being set up? Look for early dialogue, visual motifs and character choices that matter later. Consider whether the later moment adds information, reverses an assumption or lands emotionally because of earlier groundwork.
Why does this scene appear now? In a nonlinear story, placement is part of meaning. The same flashback can feel explanatory, tragic or suspenseful depending on where it is positioned.
What changes for the character? A strong structural twist matters most when it reshapes a decision, relationship or goal rather than merely supplying a surprise.
How does pacing change? Notice whether an episode pauses to deepen a character, accelerates toward conflict, or deliberately holds back resolution. Timing is part of narrative design.

This kind of analysis is especially useful because it treats popular media as craft material without pretending that a single technique can be detached from everything else. A delayed reveal depends on clarity. A setup needs enough weight to be remembered, but not so much emphasis that its return becomes obvious. An emotional payoff also needs a character foundation; surprising information alone is not a substitute for investment.

Games, anime and performance meet in Navarrette’s interests

Navarrette’s anime study sits alongside an established interest in games. She streamed on Twitch during the period when she was trying to support herself, and she has described herself as both an anime fan and a gamer. At a fan convention in July, she received a sealed 2009 copy of Modern Warfare 2 in its display case, a gift that clearly delighted her.

That anecdote is distinct from the screenwriting discussion, but it helps explain why games are not a passing reference in her career plans. Navarrette has said she wants to move into voice acting and would like to voice a character in a Resident Evil game. She framed the goal carefully: first taking on something smaller to test the waters, then pursuing something different later. That is an aspiration, not confirmation of a role or a project.

The distinction matters. Voice acting for games asks performers to work within scripts, recording schedules and character direction that can differ substantially from live-action sets. Some roles may involve dialogue recorded in isolated sessions; others can demand alternate takes for branching player choices, combat reactions and scenes that must work across many possible gameplay states. None of that guarantees a particular opportunity, but it explains why a performer interested in story construction might find games creatively appealing. They are not only stories to watch; they can be stories shaped around action, systems and player progression.

Navarrette’s stated interest in the Resident Evil world also follows a recognizable path for performers who are fans themselves: admiration for an established fictional universe can become motivation to learn the discipline required to contribute to it. The challenge is balancing that enthusiasm with the needs of the role. A character belongs to a wider production, and a performance must fit its writing, direction and tone rather than simply mirror a fan’s personal favorite interpretation.

Studying beloved characters without treating them as fixed

That balance is also relevant to Navarrette’s current live-action work. She is preparing to play Rogue in Marvel Studios’ X-Men reboot and has said she is doing everything she can to do the character justice. Navarrette said she has studied Rogue and wants to honor both her own view as a fan and the portrayal sought by director Jake Schrier.

For actors working with characters that already have passionate audiences, research can mean more than learning a backstory. It can mean understanding the traits fans view as central, identifying the emotional stakes that have made the character endure, and remaining open to a new production’s interpretation. That tension—familiarity alongside reinvention—is part of the conversation around many franchise castings, including the pressure and preparation attached to taking on another beloved game character.

Navarrette has not announced an anime dubbing role, and there is no confirmation that her voice-acting ambitions will lead to Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer or Resident Evil. Still, her comments provide a clear picture of the creative connection she sees across mediums. The viewer who notices how an early monologue pays off later can become a writer asking how to create that connection. The gamer who streams to get by can become a performer looking toward voice work. And the fan studying a character can bring that attention to a new interpretation.

For now, the concrete takeaway is Navarrette’s process: identify the work that moves you, ask precise questions about its construction, and use the answers to develop your own craft. Anime was not just an escape or a favorite genre in this case. It became a working text for understanding chronology, planted details and emotional payoff.