From the Shelf: Akira
Plus other musings?
Apologies for not writing in a while, I initially wanted to do another FTS article on the Marx Brother’s Horse Feathers, but had a much harder time writing about that. I may come up with a few words at some point. As for OTH, I intend to do a Sopranos review sooner rather than later, let’s hope we’ll get back to the grind before May wraps up. Until then, let’s talk about this anime classic.
Anime has hardly been a stranger to western audiences. Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy, the series that arguably kickstarted the entire Japanese animation industry as we know it, made its way to American television sets shortly after its Japanese debut in 1963 and became an instant success; Walt Disney, one of Tezuka’s most noted influences, was famously a fan of the series and the two met before Disney’s passing to trade compliments. Other animated series from Japan would make their way onto American TV lineups, from Mach GoGoGo (better known to western audiences as Speed Racer) to Gatchaman (which we’d probably recognize more directly as Battle of the Planets, or G-Force if you’re extra funky), with hybrid series like Robotech (which combined three different anime series together, most notably Super Dimension Force Macross) and Voltron (itself later adding other series to the mix, but famously used Beast King Go-Lion as the bulk of its material) becoming just as synonymous with 80s childhoods as Transformers, the Smurfs, and He-Man, the former still inspiring entire conventions to this day and the latter still inspiring top-selling toys and series.
But as time goes on, these works come up as essential parts of the great anime and manga canon, but rather primitive examples of Japanese animation’s impact on the west. Tezuka is still namedropped as the Godfather of Manga, but the bulk of his work remain difficult to find fully translated in the western market (although Astro Boy’s original manga remains in print, and it’s similarly not hard to find the three anime series it inspired around), but you’re more likely to see Robotech brought up in the context of fans wishing that Harmony Gold, the company which combined the various Japanese series together, would lose the rights to the franchise and that the original Macross and its successors were more readily available today. Speed Racer comes up occasionally as an early example of popular anime, but it’s better remembered as a favorite cartoon among younger Baby Boomers and Gen X, closer to the likes of Scooby-Doo, than alongside the likes of, say, Dragon Ball Z or My Hero Academia.
I started this off with examples of older anime titles as this is relevant to the history of Akira. Japanese animation was increasingly finding its way into the conversation of geek America in the 80s, a trend that would continue through the 90s and later, as now it’s an artform seemingly as successful and valid as your favorite blockbuster franchise or AAA video game. If anything, Akira, which transcended the nascent tape-trading scene and predates the more mainstream approaches to receiving anime like Carton Network’s Toonami block, is the dividing point between “old” and “new” anime.
Akira is almost exclusively the work of one Katsuhiro Otomo, a mangaka (a term used to describe manga artists and writers- most Japanese comics, aka manga are written and drawn by the same person as opposed to the average western comics, although mangaka tend to have interns help either redefine or entirely sketch some drawings; manga duos who split the work do tend to exist as well) who made a name for himself during the manga industry’s new wave movement of the 1970s, which saw revered mangaka like Tezuka and newer talents like Otomo, make audacious, socially conscious stories. Largely being made by the children of, or in some case actual survivors from WWII and the aftermath of the atom bomb allowed for varied, nuanced responses to Japanese culture post-war and how their family and neighbors adapted to life. This is when we received pivotal works like Keiji Nakazawa’s Barefoot Gen, Takamori and Chiba’s Ashita no Joe, and some of Tezuka’s most acclaimed work like Apollo’s Song and Buddha.
Otomo would soon make some of his most essential and acclaimed work by the end of the 70s and into the 80s, most notably Fireball, which didn’t finish but contained some of his earliest works in science-fiction, and Dōmu, a work which features various characters with extraordinary powers. Both would read like a precursor for Otomo’s most significant work which started serialization in 1982- Akira. A post-apocalyptic story, Akira was only meant to be a quick, ten chapter affair and run for less than a year, but Otomo eventually made 120 chapters over an eight year run. The series became an instant sensation, to the point that shortly after its publication, Marvel Comics met with Otomo in hopes of releasing the series in English, which began in 1988 with a 35 issue color run, including touched-up work by Otomo in hopes of appealing to western audiences. Akira would later be republished by Dark Horse in the 2000s, in its original black and white with a new translation and much of the retouched artwork in tact; the manga is currently copyrighted in the states by Kodansha, which hems to Dark Horse’s release.
Akira became such a big draw that an animated feature was commissioned, which would be written and directed by Otomo himself during publication. Rather than turn the work into a film series, Otomo decided to tell a condensed take on his work, largely improvising most of the back half rather than adapting any later additions to the story, not making this a Game of Thrones situation (the manga ran for two more years after the film’s release). While Akira the movie isn’t a 1:1 adaptation of the original manga, it still follows a version of Otomo’s vision that he has continued to stand by over the years; indeed, while Otomo would return to manga intermittingly over the years, he’s remained more active in the animation and even Japanese film industry instead.
But what is this about, anyway? Akira follows the aftermath of another World War in the 80s which leaves Japan in ruins, taking us to 2019, 30 years after the fact and a year before Neo-Tokyo (the capital of what remains of Japan) is poised to host the Olympics. Unfortunately, despite some impressive city design, Neo-Tokyo is plagued with juvenile crime, most notably from rival bike gangs- the Capsules, run by Shōtarō Kaneda, and the Clowns. During a violatile chase between the two, Kaneda’s best friend and fellow Capsule member Tetsuo runs into a young boy with a disturbing amount of wrinkles. Tetsuo and the boy are taken away while Kaneda and the other Capsule members are arrested. Tetsuo soon learns that he has similar telekinetic powers as Akira, who was a part of the boy he ran into’s circle who was responsible for the destruction of the original Tokyo. It’s implied that Tetsuo may bring around similar doom to Neo-Tokyo, which leads the government to look into killing him, but Kaneda and his new friend Kei, a protestor that they met when arrested, are out to protect their friend while keeping his powers at bay.
Again, this is only part of the manga’s story, as Otomo ultimately decided to take the feature in a different direction. Some fans of the manga still wish for a more faithful adaptation some day, and while I’m not against that as its own thing, finally reading the manga in full a few years ago only gives me further appreciation for what we’ve received here. Otomo’s full vision is worth exploring in its original format, one that gives Kaneda, Tetsuo, Kei and others more fleshed-out development and an impactful story that you could only tell so much of in a two hour feature. But the film remains essential today.
The bulk of Akira deals with what was then a problem with juvenile delinquency in Japan, with the first post-war generation of children showing little empathy for what their parents and neighbors had gone through. Some of it is your average case of adolescents being loaded with piss, vinegar and apathy, some of it comes from the human, if faulty belief that things would have gone down differently if they were in charge instead. Otomo was young enough where he could relate to and find room in his heart for expanding the mentality of Kaneda and Tetsuo, but was mature enough to recognize that they needed some, well, discipline. Both versions of the story handle this aptly.
Akira is also just immaculately made, featuring impressive art design in either format and some of the most fluid, vibrant animation this side of Disney. The film was made for the yen equivalent of about $5 million, which even at the time was low for the industry (that same year, Disney made Oliver & Company for over $30 mill, and even Don Bluth’s The Land Before Time cost $12 mill), but you’d never notice. The film’s scope, made in 35mm with a standard 1.85:1 aspect ratio, makes it look simultaneously massive and lived in, with Neo-Tokyo feeling as familiar as your hometown before long, even after massive destruction.
In its native Japan, Akira was an instant success, topping the box-office in its opening week and became the sixth highest-grossing film of 1988. An English-language release was developed almost immediately, with a dub being made by Electric Media and a theatrical release pushed by Streamline Pictures. Akira received a paltry, but impressive for its time $2 million in domestic tickets, but would soon find its audience in home video and become a top anime seller into the 90s. The film would receive a new dub when Pioneer Entertainment received the rights in 2001, to comply for THX certification, and this is the version that has been more readily available over the years, although DVD copies tend to have at least the original Japanese track with English subtitles; Funimation’s later Blu-Ray release has both English dubs.
At the time, Akira felt different from what you’d see in your average animated works unless you went back to Ralph Bakshi’s films, which to be blunt, are a mixed bag. The film has a complicated story, gruesome action and even a touch of nudity (which is unfortunately featured alongside sexual assault, but hey, boobs). For people who wanted something daring that you wouldn’t regularly get in the cineplex or at Blockbuster, I understand why Akira was a big deal. But well beyond that, it’s an incredibly well-crafted movie, one of the cornerstones of Japanese animation that remains just as essential today as it did 35+ years ago. I have good memories of watching the film in a tiny portable DVD player with one friend as his mom took us to run errands, as well as taking another friend to see it at my hometown theater’s short-lived and much-missed midnight movies events (he hated it, but oh well).
I don’t know if Akira remains as seminal of an anime introduction today as it was years ago, when you can easily log into CrunchyRoll and catch up with decades of anime history, one show at a time, or go to Target and buy the latest volume of Spy x Family. Will it change a teenager’s life the same way watching your first Studio Ghibli feature or discovering your favorite Shonen Jump series still does? I’d like to think so, but it’s not the early 00s anymore and I’m not looking for any kind of anime at Blockbuster to scratch my itch when Toonami’s best series are on hiatus. We’re not trading around fuzzy tapes of Project A-ko or Ranma 1/2 episodes hoping to further embrace this new artform and maybe also see some panty shots along the way. Maybe it’s for the best, having access to basically anything we want at any given time has its merits. But I think there’s still plenty to offer in Akira even beyond its historical context.
Anyway, Akira is currently streaming on CrunchyRoll and available to buy on all formats. You can pick up its 4K for under $20 on Amazon.
Three Albums I’m Currently Listening To:
Katatonia- The Great Cold Distance
Genesis- Wind & Wuthering
Helmet- Meantime
What I’m Currently Reading:
Sugar Street by Naguib Mahfouz