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Prince Of The Sun

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The movie starts. The Toei logo fades to a windswept landscape and a wordless struggle between a boy and a pack of wolves; no soundtrack, no dialogue, just panting and grunts and the whistle of a thrown hatchet whirling around on its thong, knocking wolves for a loop, an orchestrated piece of desperate, synchronized violence that immediately tells the audience they aren’t in fairytale land. This land belongs to the Prince Of the Sun, Horus. 



太陽の王子ホルスの大冒険, "Taiyou no Ōji Horusuno Daibōken"akaLittle Norse Prince akaHorus, Prince Of the Sun is not only a great film and a groundbreaking piece of animation involving darn near everybody who ever made a Japanese cartoon you liked, it’s also a prehistorical race-memory flashback from a time when civilization was nothing more than scattered villages of hunter-gatherers, iron the wonder technology of the age, and agriculture the disruptive new startup; when the forces of nature itself are the enemies mankind must unite and conquer.  This is a movie about killing winter and bringing back spring, and if that’s not something we can all get behind (especially after last winter!) I don’t know what is.

Horus is also the source, the Rosetta Stone, the Ur-text for what would make Japanese animation an international phenomenon, moving past storybooks and toy ads to become appealing, boundary-pushing films striving against the medium’s stereotypes. Most of what made Japanese animation tops for the next forty years - the yodelly pleasures of Heidi and other World Masterpieces, the dashing Lupin III of Cagliostro, the global, Oscar-winning brand that Ghibli would become, and a raft of Pokemon designers and super robot animators and Rocky Chuck supervisors –they all passed through the eye of Horus

The on-screen drama reflected the behind-the-scenes struggles of Toei animators battling their own studio, which would bury the finished product after only ten days in the cinema.  Rescued from obscurity by a generation of devoted fans, the film would reach a worldwide audience almost in spite of its parent corporation. And now, after decades of scratchy prints and pan & scan dubs, Horus is finally a legit North American DVDrelease in a package that presents a terrific movie in tandem with enlightening amounts of context and background.


But back to 1000 BC. Our heroic hatchet-boy Horus – we’re pretty sure what the screenwriters and the voice actors were going for was “Hols”, but “Horus” is what Toei wants to run with, so “Horus” it is – Horus here is the Mk 1 version of the Anime Boy Hero we’ll later see piloting giant robots, rescuing girls from flying castles, and surviving both tsunamis and industrial fascist plots with a strong right arm and a gleam in his eye.  His struggle with the wolves is interrupted by the film’s sharp left turn into fantasy; the awakening of the rock giant Maug, from whose rocky shoulder Horus pulls a rusty but impressive sword, Aesop’s Fables style. Reforged, sharpened, and wielded properly, Maug tells Horus this sword will make him the Prince Of The Sun. Cue title.



The next ninety minutes deliverthe full, unchanging panoply of human experience; tragedy, desire, friendship, deceit, betrayal, bravery, regret, heartbreak, perseverance, vengeance, fellowship. An orphaned Horus sets sail to leave his solitary life and enter the world his father abandoned; to battle the winter elemental Grunwald himself with his axe and, if he can reforge it, the Sword.  Along the way he’ll fight wolves, rats, and a giant monster pike, confront trickery and self-doubt, and learn that only the strength of an entire community can enable mankind to survive the elements and perhaps finish an exhaustingly ambitious animated film.


Found wandering in ruins, the cursed Hilda and her beautiful songs distract the village and serve the venal purposes of the egg-stealing Drago, who has the ear of the weak-willed headman. Will the village survive bearing the full force of the Grunwald’s divide-and-conquer attempt to destroy humanity? His rats are coming; his wolves are already here. Crippled by her pain and cursed by her fear, Hilda fights her own internal battle; and her scornful remark to Horus, trapped in his own forest of doubt, may instead the key that frees them all. We learn through struggle and fire that working together, men can fight monsters,  and that even the damned can find humanity through acts of mercy. The film climaxes with an astounding sequence involving ice mastodons, flaming towers, and the white-hot reforged Sword Of The Sun sliding onto the ice, ready for Horus, soaring skyward on a ghost-wolf to do battle with the Grunwald himself, a stirringmoment of cinema that may just transcend culture, language, space and time itself.


A sprawling, bold work, Horus is nothing less than a masterpiece. Pop anthropology aside, the film is an artistic triumph; but cinematic victory would prove Pyrrhic. Visually, Horus transformed Japan’s animation aesthetic, moving from the 50s superflat commercial-art style of earlier Yasuji Mori/ Yoichi Kotabe joints like Gulliver’s Space Journey or Little Prince & The Eight Headed Dragon, towards the more naturalistic, expressive characters we’d see everywhere later. Traditional cartoon kids and talking animal friends mingle with rough-hewn warriors and rock men while the Grunwald’s simpler design marks him as heir to Disney’s “Night On Bald Mountain”.  Horus features technical callbacks to films as disparate as Walt’s Pinocchio and Grimault’s The King And The Mockingbird,and also reflects earlier Toei works including the offbeat Jack & The Witch, as loners with only animals for friends are intrigued & betrayed by girls in thrall to evil powers, finding themselves trapped in weird psychoanalytical dimensions.



The screenplay for Horus was taken from Kazuo Fukazawa’s puppet play “Chikisani No Taiyo”, in turn based on “Okikurumi To Akuma No Ko”, a song-poem epic from the Yukar, the oral tradition of the vanishing Ainu peoples of Hokkaido.  This deep-cut ethnicity would be blurred and vaguely Nordicized for a potential international audience. Admittedly, the culture of Horus could be of any early Iron Age village within spitting distance of the Arctic Circle; the landscape becomes a character in its own right, filled with desolate, almost post-apocalyptic vistas and abandoned, overgrown settlements. However, echoes of the Ainu can be seen in many places in the film, particularly in Hilda’s costume design. The film’s underlying themes of strength through unity are universal enough, and laid over almost primal myths of seasonal change and rebirth, Horus becomes a story as old as man itself.


Production of Horus began in fall of 1965, marched past deadlines and cost overruns, and finally wrapped in spring of ’68. In the meantime, Toei completed twoCyborg 009 films, Jack & The Witch, and a Hans Christian Andersen film. Clearly Little Norse Prince was a fractious beast, driven hard by a determined crew spearheaded by future Oscar nominee Isao Takahata. Toei, ambitiously striving to be the Walt Disney of the Orient, would match The Mouse in both animation and labor disputes, having survived one round of strikes in ’61. More unrest would follow. Hayao Miyazaki (Poli Sci, Gakushuin University, ’63) after working less than a year at Toei, was already Chief Secretary of Toei Doga’s labor union, and he, union vice-chair Takahata, and director Yasuo Otsukapledged to take as long as necessary to complete Horus, which they feared to be the last gasp of real film animation in Japan. Labor and management struggled to come to terms in a late 60s atmosphere of rebellion and confrontation, as Toei proposed replacing salaried veterans with a staff of contract freelancers - a move rejected at the time, but now almost universal. Horus was greenlit with a 100 million yen budget, negotiated upwards from 70, at a time when most animated films ran fifty to 80. The ambitious, uncompromising plans of novice director Takahata and his close-knit staff added 30 million yen and two years to the film’s completion. Animation director Yasuo Otsuka would later detail the production in his memoir, luridly titled “Cels Covered In Sweat.”

let us vigorously confront the struggle of collective action in the worker's paradise
Director Takahata paid for the labor disputes, the cost, and the late delivery of Horus with a demotion from the feature film department. He, Miyazaki and other Horus veterans would leave Toei entirely in ’71, but Toei’s loss was the animation world’s gain. The key collaborative team for Horus was an all-star anime team, including first-time direction by Isao “Grave Of The Fireflies” Takahata, Yasuo Puss In Boots” Otsuka as animation director, key animation by some guy named Hayao Miyazaki and Yasuji “Future Boy Conan” Mori, Reiko “Taro The Dragon Boy, Belladonna” Okuyama, and Yoichi “30,000 Leagues In Search Of Mother” Kotabe. These remarkable talents would go on to produce masterpieces for studios like Zuiyo Eizo, Nippon Animation, Top Craft, and eventually Ghibli.


Was Toei chastened by the collectivist pro-labor subtext of Horus? Weirded out by the scene where Horus flies around Grunwald on a ghost wolf while a giant rock-man battles an ice elephant? Who knows. All we know is after Toei buried Horus with a mere 10-day theatrical release, the movie achieved certifiable cult status, living on in the hearts of nascent otaku who’d champion it for years to come in fanzines and magazine articles.  Internationally the film was a slow starter, hampered by Toei’s official disinterest and confusing insistence in giving the film the English title“Little Norse Prince Valiant”, which conflates this film with the Hal Foster Arthurian-legend comic strip. American International would license the film for American television in 1971, titled “Little Norse Prince”.  The Fred Ladd-directed dub features an all-star 60s anime cast including Billie Lou “Kimba” Watt, Corinne “Trixie” Orr, Gilbert “Superbook” Mack, and Ray “Gigantor” Owens. 

Italian DVD cover art. 


American fans made do with off-air copies of the AIPpan & scan television print until a Japan-only LD release in 1995. British media firm Optimum released a R2 DVD of the film in 2010, with English subs only. In contrast, Discotek’s current Horus DVD release is all-inclusive and essential. The print is flawless and includes the original Japanese soundtrack and the AIPdub. Special features abound; Mike“Anime Jump” Toole’s commentaryincludes interesting details about the Disney-like ambitions of Hiroshi Okawa and a great story of the time Miyazaki and Takahata danced together.  Daniel Thomas Macinnes aptly praises Horus as “the Citizen Kane of anime.” There’s footage of a fascinating French TV interview with Takahata from 1995, a production art gallery, the original Japanese trailer, a Yoichi Kotabe interview detailing their real-life research, and a slideshow feature demonstrating both the inspiration Horus took from earlier films and later works that would be influenced by Horus. The invaluable Benjamin Ettinger delivers an essay about Reiko Okuyama, pioneering female Horus key animator who key-animated her husband’s directorial debut,Flying Phantom Ship.


Everyone should own Horus, Prince Of The Sun, and I say that without reservation or qualification. The reason we’re even watching Japanese animation on this side of the Pacific is its ability to transcend national borders and to speak to people on a basic human level, and Horus is one of the best examples of the medium’s universal appeal. Japanese animation of this vintage isn’t often awarded this degree of respect here in North America, and as anime fans we should support these efforts. But beyond mere fandom or even the appeal of animation in general, Horus succeeds as a work of cinema that should be celebrated by all who love film for its own sake. Toei would never again be as bold as it was with Horus, Prince Of The Sun, and even decades later, the sweat and struggle of Takahata, Otsuka, Miyazaki, and their comrades continue to reward us all.


Thanks to Mike Toole and Rockor for their assistance

your anime north 2015 schedule

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It's that time of year again and it means I've been spending important anime-blogging time working on presentations for Anime North! If you're in the area and had the forethought to pick up your admission before they all sold out - yeah, they cap the membership, and they need to because this con is huge - then why not drop my one of these events I'm involved in eventing?


Friday night is the traditional Anime Hell Night In Canada, full of shorts and clips and assorted assembled Frankensteinian non-contextural oddities that make it a delight to the eyes and other senses.


On Saturday at noon join myself and Shaindle Minuk and whoever else we can grab who's been to Japan recently as we discuss the tourist experience in Tokyo and beyond.


At 1pm on Saturday Helen "Anime Encyclopedia" McCarthy and Mike "Anime Jump" Toole will discuss their entertaining and profitable anime-journalistic careers!


At 2pm noted anime translator Neil Nadelman will tell you all about a classic anime series he's been localizing - the Tatsunoko future-police comedy Urashiman!


When 3pm rolls around that means it's time for Mister Kitty's Stupid Comics, as Shaindle Minuk and myself take you on a trip through our crumbly, yellowing archive of six decades of terrible comic books. Prepare to have your intelligence insulted!


It's 8pm at Anime North and that can only mean one thing - we open up the International Ballroom and Neil Nadelman brings out the most totally lame anime that ever lurched out into the public eye!


Not to be outdone, at 10pm Mike Toole unlocks the landfill of terrible with the Worst Anime Ever!

at 1pm on Sunday, Mike Toole and Dave Merrill dig deep and uncover some dubbed anime that history has forgotten, sometimes rightfully so.


And at 3pm on Sunday, Dave, Neil, and a cast of old-timey anime fan veterans tell you what it was like to be an anime fan back in the 1980s, in the days of tube TVs, VHS, and print fanzines!

It's gonna be a wild weekend at Anime North so if you're anywhere in the southern part of Ontario or the northern parts of New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, or Michigan, you ought to come on over!

Ride With Captain Ken

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Six-guns and space ships! Cowboys and aliens! Gunfights at the OK Corral on Mars! It’s all happening in Digital Manga’s release of Captain Ken, a tremendously entertaining Osamu Tezuka manga that mixes classic Western action with classic pulp sci-fi. Captain Ken delivers a satisfying space chuckwagon full of the best of both worlds, as the mysterious Japanese space-cowboy Ken’s mission of mercy puts him in the middle of Martian range-wars, a genocidal extermination plot, and the political corruption of two planets.


The juxtaposition of Wild West and Outer Space wasn't a new motif when Captain Kenfirst appeared in a December 1960 issue of Shonen Sunday. Years before JFK invoked "New Frontier" imagery for his 1960 presidential campaign, the idea that space travel would be our next frontier was commonplace. The crude SF of the "golden age" was often criticized as merely retooled Westerns, with Martians replacing Indians, spaceships swapped with horses or trains, and atom-guns instead of six-shooters. The space-western motif would headline Charlton’s abortive 1952 "Space Western Comics", featuring hero Spurs Jackson and his Space Vigilantes battling saucer-men, Venusians, and, of course, Hitler. Mixing space opera and horse opera might have been old (cowboy) hat even in 1960, but with Captain Ken, the godlike talent of master manga-ka Osamu Tezuka took those two clichés and spun them into rock-solid manga entertainment for the rocket-ship rancher in us all.

It’s the Wild West Future! Mars has been colonized into a simulacrum of the 19th century Old West by Earth settlers who have nearly wiped out the native Martians. Destruction for the last native Martians looms as they gather strength for a last revolt while the Earth government plans their final solution. The Earthling girl Kenn Murakami arrives on Mars to live with her cousin Mamoru at the Hoshino ranch in the Mars town of Hedes, just as the last Martian tribe, the Moro, begin their guerilla war. Battling Moro braves in the midst of a sandstorm, Mamoru Hoshino meets the mysterious Ken, a sharpshooting cowboy with a fantastic robot horse.  Is the demure Kenn actually cowboy Ken in disguise? If not, why are their features so similar?  The early part of the story is taken up with this is-he-or-isn’t-he business, sandwiched between sweeping Martian vistas, robot horse stampedes, craven mayors, and Martian-style shootouts. 

Plenty of Tezuka’s signature sight gags leaven the rivalry between Mamoru and Captain Ken as they both defend the Hoshino ranch and Kenn from vengeful Moros and corrupt Earthling officials alike.  Captured by the corrupt, treasure-hoarding mayor and sent to a Martian labor camp, Ken befriends Papillon, a Moro girl who also has an amazing secret.  The evil President Slurry executes his master plan – the detonation of a Solar Bomb to exterminate the native Martians once and for all. Can Ken and Mamoru stop the destruction? What is Captain Ken’s true relation to Kenn and how does it tie into his astonishing true identity? Will he master the Martian gunfighting style and defeat the evil black-clad gunslinger Lamp, and will Ken and Papillon together meet their destiny?

Captain Ken is well stocked with secret treasure hoards, low-gravity Mars-orbit swordfighting, giant-wheeled Martian prairie schooners, lonely hermits who are secret masters of “Martian-style gunfighting”, and the evil Napoleon, crime-lord of all Mars, whose real identity is but one more switcheroo in the polymorphously perverse Tezuka parade of dual characters, shape-shifting Martian monsters, implied cross-species romances, and gender-bending disguises that make up a curiously large part of his body of work. Tezuka-brand social commentary is front and center, spotlighting Manifest (Space) Destiny’s affect on indigenous peoples; whether Indians or Martians, the people who were there first always seem to get the short end of the stick. It’s no coincidence that the last remaining Martian tribe is the Moro, deliberately echoing the Muslim Moro tribes of the Philippines, who fought both Spanish and American soldiers during the Philippines’ days as a colony of both nations (Japan has its own colonialist history in that neighborhood, but such things are at this time beyond the scope of Tezuka’s thesis or that of his editorial staff, sorry).



Though not as successful as his previous Shonen Sunday serial, the proto-furry Cold War allegory Zero Men, Captain Ken was popular enough to garner a deluge of responses to a “Guess Captain Ken’s Real Identity” contest. Coincidentally, one of the two winners later went on to animate at Tezuka’s Mushi Productions.  Captain Kenwould remain on the Tezuka midlist dude-ranch, being neither as iconic or as merchandise-friendly as Tezuka’s earlier Mighty Atom or Jungle Emperor, nor as challenging or as experimental as his later works. Yet Captain Ken utterly nails that late 50s-early 60s pulp science-fiction action/adventure vibe – the kind of story every mid-century cheap paperback cover, movie poster, or lunchbox illustration promises us and yet never delivers. Ken is a beautifully rendered tale of adventure, excitement, and mystery, shot through with thoughtful science-fiction concepts and a time paradox reveal that poses more questions than it answers.  It’s the kind of satisfying juvenile SF that would be a crowning achievement for other creators, yet for one as protean as Tezuka, it’s merely Tuesday.

There’s a lot to unpack in the 440 pages of Captain Ken’s two volumes, but the story never bogs down or gets sidetracked by info-dumps. Even the third-act temporal displacement is delivered with finesse, a twist that would echo similar hooks in later SF and itself was admittedly inspired by Robert Heinlein’s 1959 story “All You Zombies” (Heinlein and Tezuka would meet in 1982 at Go Nagai’s wedding). The clarity of Tezuka’s pen work matches his story; both the rugged Martian landscape and the cartoony characters that inhabit it are confidently drawn, and breeze through the story with all the vitality and movement Tezuka’s comics were famous for.

Digital Manga has released Captain Ken in a fine 2-volume softcover set, crowdfunded by Kickstarter, as is the case with most of their Tezuka releases. Depending on their donation level, backers could receive Captain Ken in print or digital or both, along with goodies like decals, bandannas, messenger bags, etc. For those who missed the campaign, the books are available through more traditional methods, as well.Captain Ken delivers two-gun space western action that fits neatly in your robot horse saddlebags and should appeal to fans of anime, of manga, of science-fiction, of westerns, of pop-culture mashups and adventure in general, in short, pretty much everybody. It may be one of Osamu Tezuka’s minor works, but Captain Ken is major manga entertainment.   


pledge your support

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As many of you know, when I'm not writing about classic anime here at Let's Anime (which, admittedly, is most of the time), I'm usually working on something at Mister Kitty, which is the website myself and my wife Shain Minuk set up some years back to host our own original comics and to feature attractions like our popular "Stupid Comics" page.  Well, the big news is that Shain has taken the big 21st century crowdfunding step and has started a Kickstarter campaign to fund a deluxe, 268 page collection of her webcomic, The Element of Surprise.  

Described by the comic’s creator as “similar to Starsky and Hutch, only a little less gay”, The Element of Surprise details the relationship between two men, Mark and Ben, in a nameless but crime-ridden city somewhere in America’s “rust belt”.

The Kickstarter campaign has a variety of rewards for pledges that range from $1 to $200. Readers of the webcomic, which updates weekly, have been hoping for a print version for quite some time, and Mister Kitty and Friends have finally responded.

With the help of crowd funding by Kickstarter, Minuk intends to publish the first two story arcs of The Element of Surprise, while a third arc is currently running in weekly updates on the Mister Kitty website. The collected volume of the webcomic will detail the two men in the early stages of their relationship, struggling with their own internal conflicts while facing up against corrupt politicians and various violent miscreants, in a story providing plenty of action and romance.

The Element of Surprise Kickstarter campaign is on until July 17th 2015.  We're hoping to get the word out as far and as wide as possible, and hopefully if this project succeeds it'll be the first of many Mister Kitty print projects, including, who knows? Maybe a print Let's Anime. So check out the Kickstarter, tell your pals, spread the word, and if you can, why not drop a few bucks to help make independent print comics happen?


top 11 autos named after classic anime characters

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Did you know that many automobiles were named after classic Japanese animation characters?  It’s a fact! No no, don’t check up on it, just trust us, automakers around the world chose to name their vehicles after cartoons. Happened all the time and nobody knows why. Were Detroit automakers secretly attending C/FO meetings? Were there legions of anime fans in the ranks of car companies around the world? Science will never learn the answer. In the meantime, we here at Let’s Anime put together the top eleven automobiles that were named after classic anime heroes and heroines. Can you guess which will be number one?


 #3- Windstar, the mid-sized Ford van, had a reputation for safety – meaning, while it was in the shop having the engine or transmission replaced, you aren’t out driving it, and you can’t get safer than that. On the other hand, Windstar from Jim Terry’s localization of Toei’s Planet Robo Danguard Ace was a hot-blooded, decidedly unsafe super robot pilot who had something to prove to his commander, the mysterious Captain Mask.


 #16- The curves and handling, the sleek lines, the spirited movement and the classy chassis all make Nova a delight to behold. And the car’s not bad either! Seriously though, this classic Chevy car was born in the ‘60s as a “compact” but with the addition of a V8 became a favorite on the dragstrip, and with the ’68 third generation, Nova became the muscle car we still see cruising the streets, until a mid 70s redesign left it boring and boxy. The Nova imprint was later used by Chevy to rebrand Toyota Corollas in the mid 1980s, producing a line of functional, seemingly unkillable compacts. Seriously; we set ours on FIRE and still got another 100,000 miles out of it. Similarly, the anime character Nova is both a fully trained medical professional AND a valuable member of the Argo’s bridge crew, handling the all-celestial radar, surviving Gamilons and Comet Imperials and BolarCommonwealth attacks with ease. Unsure if she was ever set on fire.


#37- The Astro was a rear-wheel drive mid-sized van produced from 1985 to 2005 by Chevrolet, noted for its trucklike hauling ability and its Spartan, boxlike interior that put efficiency ahead of comfort. The Astro Boy, on the other hand, is a robot boy with 100,000 horsepower created by Dr. Tenma, who once defeated Pluto to become the Greatest Robot In The World.


 #9- Not the album by prog-rockers Asia, nor Ultraman Leo’s twin brother, but the Opel Astra, a line of sporty compacts and mid-sized coupes marketed around the world under a variety of brands including Saturn, Chevrolet, and, in China, as Buick. A new, smaller Astra is set to debut at the Frankfurtauto show in September. Meanwhile in the world of imported Japanese cartoons, namely Star Blazers, Astra was the name given to Queen Starsha’s sister, who was sent to Earth with the plans for the Wave Motion Engine, but sadly who did not survive the journey.


#62.5- Whether you want outer space ESPpolicemen or economical compact cars, Justy is the brand for you! Subaru’s endearing little three-banger charmed Americans looking for cheap, gas-friendly transportation in the late 80s and early 90s, while Tsuguo Okazaki’s Shonen Sunday manga, later localized in the US and animated as a 1985 OVA, is the melodramatic story of Justy, the space cop with the most powerful ESPpowers in the universe, whose awe-inspiring abilities are moderated only by his warm-hearted humanity.


#5- Several cars have been named Aurora – you may be familiar with the 90s Oldsmobile high-end sports sedan marketed with the name, or with the bizarre 1957 concept car produced by a vanity Connecticut auto manufacturer run by a priest and meant to be the safest car ever built, and probably was, as the single prototype kept breaking down on the way to the auto show. Anime fans, on the other hand, can watch the cartoon Princess Aurora go the distance all the way to the center of the galaxy as she led her team of SpaceKeteers on a mission to save the universe, in the series of the same name.


 #4- In the far reaches of outer space, the deadliest man alive is Cobra, the space bandit with the unstoppable Psycho-Gun. Meanwhile on the highways, the deadliest car alive is the Shelby Cobra, the unstoppable combination of big American engine and small European sportscar chassis – also the favorite auto of deadly bird-ninja Condor Joe.


#4 (again)- Pronounce “Ghibli” however you like, the fact is that this Japanese animation studio has produced more Academy-award winning feature films than any other anime production outfit. Spearheaded by the one-two punch of Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata, they’ve been a museum-building cultural powerhouse for decades. It’s not surprising that automaker Maserati would appropriate this name for that of their mid-sized luxury sedan.


 #88- Speaking of hot desert winds, the boys at Volkswagen will sell you a Scirocco, a six-speed sports coupe that’s sleek yet surprisingly practical. The Gundam villain Paptimus Scirocco, just to contrast, is an evil genius who arrives from distant Jupiter with a master plan to make himself master of the Earth Sphere, as seen in the 1985 animated series Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam.


 #13- The anime about the bikini-clad space princess and the hapless Earth boy – no, not THAT anime, but the OTHER anime about the space princess, you know, Outlanders, the Johji Manabe manga that got an early North American release courtesy Studio Proteus and a stunt-casted English dubbed anime? Yeah, that would make a great name for Mitsubishi to use for their smallish, underpowered line of SUVs, I guess.


#7- Need a space navigator or a minivan? The Chevy Venture minivan was produced from 1997-2005. The 2000-2003 models could be "Warner Brothers" customized with WB branding, a DVDplayer (or VHS deck), classic WB cartoons, and built in child restraints.  And just like Venture the anime character, which is the American name given to Daisuke Shima from Space Battleship Yamato, the ship's navigator and best friend of deputy captain Susumu Kodai, the Venture is a reliable companion for all of life’s journeys, whether to the Greater Magellanic Cloud or to the beach. 

And hey, as of this writing there are two days left in the Kickstarter campaign to publish Shaindle Minuk’s webcomic Element Of Surprise.Why not check it out?


Sticker price does not include tax, tag, and title. Professional driver on closed course. Highway and city mileage may vary. Dealer may not have all makes in all colors. Some conditions may apply. Subject to local, state, and federal laws. Use only as directed.

Anime Weekend Atlanta is 21

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Next weekend is the 21st annual Anime Weekend Atlanta.  Back when we started the show in 1995 we never figured it would get as big as it has or last as long as it has, but we've been pleasantly surprised every year at its continued popularity and growth. And as usual the second half of my summer has been occupied by arranging and coordinating and editing and photoshopping and emailing and generally getting ready for the show. Add to that a late summer trip to NYC and all the general activities of life, and you can easily see why posting here at Let's Anime has been very light of late. Well, I promise that the minute I get done with AWA I'll be right back here working on new and interesting Let's Anime posts for you!  In the meantime here's what I'm up to next weekend.

Thursday night it's time for AWA's popular yard-sale swap-meet garage-sale event, the Super Happy Fun Sell! The room swarms with speedy bargain hunting as fans clean out their closets of anime and manga collectibles to begin the cycle of consumerism anew. Bring money!

On Friday, Darius "Fandom Post" Washington and myself and other AWA veterans will take you through the past of 21 years ago as we started the AWA anime-con locomotive into forward, seemingly unstoppable motion. Find out what was shown in the video rooms, how many Sailor Moons were in the costume contest, what the deal was with that so-called 'tennis court', and the final fate of AWA's first hotel, the infamous Castlegate!

Later Friday night it's time once again for Anime Hell, the popular flippety-floppy confuse-o-vision event that promises to astonish and entertain. It's preceded at 8pm by Neil "Dog Soldier" Nadelman's Totally Lame Anime and followed at 12:08 by Midnight Madness.

On Saturday, the Corn Pone Flicks gang is getting back together to spend a couple of hours taking you through their three seminal 1990s anime-culture documentaries, "Bad American Dubbing".  See how annoyed American fans would work themselves into a frenzy of outrage at the liberties taken with their favorite Japanese cartoons - dubbing and editing atrocities that ironically were the first exposure many of these same fans had to Japanese animation in the first place! It's a time travelling trip of self-important mockery with Bad American Dubbing.

Then on Sunday it's another time for reflection. We'll look back at what anime fandom was like thirty years ago in the dark days of 1985.  How did anime fandom begin in the time before the internet? What sort of activities did these stone-age fans occupy their pre-Nintendo days with?  And what was the difference between VHS and Beta, anyway? Join us for Class Of '85.


That's what's in store for you at AWA! If you haven't already pre-registered, tickets are available on-site for all four days of anime-fan action, so there's really no reason to miss this one.  See ya there!




Class Of '85

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In September I presented this piece at Anime Weekend Atlanta. Thirty years back (!!), I was part of Atlanta’s local anime club, making library meeting rooms a welcoming place for anime fans. I was a teenager at the time; no, I’m not THAT old.

Thirty years ago Japanese anime fandom in the United Stateswas a liminal beast, in transition from a centralized fan club model to a loosely connected clutch of fiefdoms, waiting for technology to catch up with our ideas.  For many, 1985 was the pivotal year.


 Who was part of this “Class Of ’85?”  Where did they come from, what did they do? Their childhood was spent watching Speed Racer or Battle Of the Planets or Star Blazers. Teen years found them in comic-con dealers rooms or in the back row at the local Star Trek or Dr Who clubs, asking questions about Japanese animation. They’d find other interested fans, they’d learn about anime clubs in far-away places like California or Texasor Ohio, and finally they’d start their own.



They were the latest in a series of anime fan surges that had been washing over North America repeatedly since the early 1960s, each fed in turn by syndication of Astro Boy, Kimba, Gigantor, Marine Boy, Prince Planet, Tobor The Eighth Man, and Speed Racer, sometimes Princess Knight or a UHF television broadcast of Jack And the Witch. All this foreign TV input coalesced into fandom in the late 70s, when Japanese-language UHF began broadcasting superrobots and when home video technology reached the point where such broadcasts could be replayed over and over again to audiences of fans. These “Japanimation” fans would gather in LA, SF and NYC to watch poorly subtitled TV cartoons and 16mm prints of Astro Boy episodes; and they’d form the first Japanese animation fan group, the Cartoon/Fantasy Organization (C/FO).

Sandy Frank’s iteration of Tatsunoko’s Gatchaman, Battle Of The Planets, began syndication in September of 1978. BOTP fans would shortly start the second national anime group to come to any sort of prominence, the Battle Of The Planets Fan Club. Organized in early 1979 by Ohio’s Joey Buchanan, the BOTP FC would be active through the mid 1980s, with outreach via classified ads in Starlog. 

BOTP Fan Club newsletters (thanks to G.)
Star Blazers, the American version of Space Battleship Yamato, would air in September of 1979; it inspired still more fans, clubs, newsletters, and even the first Star Blazers-themed anime conventions. For those hooked at home or converted via anime screenings at local comic & Star Trek shows,  the BOTP, the Star Blazers club and the C/FO became the next stop for learning more about “Japanimation.”

Our Class Of ’85 spent 1984 taping episodes of Voltron from local TV, wishing for Star Blazers re-runs, waiting to hear back from that anime club they contacted after they found their flyer at the local comic con, and finally taking matters into their own hands. They’d find a few fellow fans with enough Japanese animation on videotape to reasonably entertain an audience for five or six hours and were crazy enough to volunteer to do all the work of hauling televisions and VCRs and boxes of tapes, and somebody would find a space they could meet once a month. Repeat in cities across the USand Canada: anime club.

C/FO Magazine, the national club's publication
When Robotech - Harmony Gold’s localization of Tatsunoko’s Macross, Southern Cross and Mospeada - made its syndicated TV debut in the fall of 1985, “Japanimation” fandom was already in place and ready for its close-up, Mr DeMille.  Newly minted anime fans would learn of the Macross feature film, they’d find out that their favorite arcade game “Cliff Hanger” was assembled from a couple of Lupin IIIfeature films, that there was an entire slew of Japanese cartoons about alien high school students and vampire hunters and mercenary fighter pilots and teenage trouble consultants and ESPpolicemen, that there was already two and a half decades of Japanese animation to get caught up on and more happening all the time.

(I’m using “class of 85” here as glib shorthand for the whole 1984-1987 time frame. 1985 was when our local anime fans got together but meetings didn’t get regular until ‘86. 1987 was our busiest year and the winter of 1988-89 was when our club, like many other C/FO affiliated clubs, fractured beyond repair. Anyway my high school yearbook with Julia Roberts’ photo is from 1985, so “Class Of 1985” it becomes. )
now showing at your local anime club meeting
Get comfortable. Anime club meetings lasted for hours, with a mix of films, TV episodes, and OVAs showing on the main television for as long as possible. Titles screened would typically be in Japanese without benefit of subtitles, though there was a thriving market in photocopied English synopsis guides describing who was doing what to whom. Occasionally a more fluent (or delusional) member would appoint himself facilitator and provide running commentary, which would degenerate into a crowd of people attempting to top each other’s humorous pre-MST3K commentary. Members would socialize in the back of the room or in the hall, play RPG games, draw fan artwork, sell each other anime merchandise they’d picked up and didn’t want, build model kits, and generally display future anime-con behavior.

It was a golden age for home video retailers. The dust was still settling from the Format Wars and Sony’s Beta was sinking fast, mortally wounded by VHS in the marketplaces of North America. Early VCR adopters paid $1000-$1500 for the privilege, but 1985 consumers saw top of the line machines retailing for less than $600, with bargain models at around $150 - prices anime fans could afford even on their part-time after-school K-mart salary. The technology itself had progressed from top-loading, wired remote, mono decks to 4-head stereo machines capable of crystal-clear freeze frame images, all the better to view bootlegged Japanese cartoons with.

Print advertising for VCRs circa 1985
Maximizing our AV experience was a must, and this might involve splitting the RF signal to two or more TVs, giving the whole crowd a decent shot at enjoying Fight! Iczer One. Thrift-store receivers and speakers would delight and/or annoy the patrons with a rough approximation of stereo sound. The Class Of ’85 learned that no anime club meeting was complete without a daisy chain of VCRs wired together in the back of the room, distributing that newly acquired tape of Vampire Hunter D down the whirring line of VHS decks with the end of the chain getting the worst of the deal. 

Where did those tapes come from? A thriving Japanese home video market put direct-to video anime releases, feature anime films and the occasional TV collection on the shelves of Tsutaya video rental outlets. Japanese fandom, just beginning to call itself “otaku”, was taping anime off-air, as seen in the fine documentary film “1985 Graffiti Of Otaku Generation”, later exchanging copies of these tapes with USpen pals. Servicemen stationed in Japanspent their garrison pay on blank videotape while fans in American cities with Japanese minorities were learning to haunt the local Japanese neighborhoods in search of video rental stores.

your choice: kidvid or homebrew
America’s own home video boom had even put some licensed releases of Japanese animation into our own video rental stores. Most were aimed at the children’s market, and even the less-kiddified releases would feature annoying English dubbing and the occasional edit for time or objectionable content. Once anime fans had seen uncut anime straight from Japan, kid-vid substitutes would not satisfy. 

Promoting their new anime clubs was also a struggle. Using the internet for wide promotion and informational purposes was still in its infancy; anime clubs had to get the word out using old-fashioned print. Just as cheap home video technology enabled videotape-based TV fandom, cheap photocopy technology was causing a fanzine explosion, and fans would take full advantage of Kinko’s and related outlets.  Xeroxed flyers would promote the club in comic book stores and at fan conventions. Members would be informed of upcoming meetings via a monthly newsletter assembled out of whatever fan art could be harvested and whatever anime news could be gleaned from magazines, the news media, and the wishful thinking of fellow fans. Assembling these newsletters meant an extra day or so of work every month for the club officers, all published without benefit of scanners or graphic design software, just typewriters, white-out, scissors, and glue. Copied, collated, stapled, addressed and stamped, the final product would then be subject to the mercies of the United States Post Office.

getting the word out about Bubblegum Crisis
1985’s anime fans would also suffer the burdens of international economic policy. The Plaza Accords meant a rising yen vs the US dollar. This, and natural supply and demand dynamics, inflated the USprices of anime goods. In Japan, the anime market shrank from the “anime boom” years of 1982-84 even as their “Bubble Economy” swelled preparatory to bursting. 

Happily ignorant of the larger economic forces, the Class Of ‘85’s local clubs kept meeting at its libraries and community centers, publishing its newsletters, screening anime at comic cons and Fantasy Fairs to appreciative crowds and grumbling con organizers, swapping tapes and making road trips and generally living the 80s anime fan lifestyle of pizza, Coca-Cola, and late nights spent copying Project A-Ko over and over. What they lacked in data or tech they made up for in brotherhood; a typical anime club meeting might include a potluck junk-food smorgasbord, a surprise birthday celebration or a post-meeting dinner, with fans from three or four states turning anime club meetings into impromptu anime family reunions.

the Atlanta club in its natural environment
As a chapter of a national organization, the local club had certain obligations to the parent body. In practice these obligations were vaguely defined and generally involved swapping newsletters, tapes and gossip with other chapters. At one point the national C/FO was sending a Yawata-Uma horse (a gaily painted hand carved wooden horse given as a gift on special occasions) from chapter to chapter to be decorated with signatures and mascot illustrations; this arrived, was duly scrawled upon, and delivered to the next link in the chain, perhaps the pinnacle of cooperative achievement for any national anime club. Photos of this horse eventually wound up in the March 1987 issue of Animage, along with pictures of American cosplayers and members of Atlanta’s local club.

Yawata-Uma & fans captured on home video in somebody's basement
What finally happened to the Class of ’85 after the ‘80s ended? The Battle Of The Planets club had long since vanished, while the national Star Blazers club leveraged its reach and became Project A-Kon. The national leadership of the C/FO used parliamentary procedure to reduce what had been 30+ chapters in three nations to a few local Southern Californiaclubs. Former C/FO chapters became sovereign anime-club states charting their own anime club destinies, while other clubs that never bothered with the C/FO kept right on doing what they’d been doing all along. For example; the Anime Hasshin club, by virtue of a lively and regularly-published newsletter, a tape-trading group, and a total lack of interest in hosting meetings or chapters, became a leader in the 90s anime fan community.

join a local anime club today
1990 saw the start of the direct-to-video, uncut, English subtitled localization industry with AnimEigo’s Madox-01. Films like Akira would put Japanese animation into the art-house cinema circuit and finally, into the cultural lexicon as something other than Speed Racer. Local anime clubs began their long slide into irrelevance, faced with Blockbuster’s anime shelves and Genie or Compuserve’s dedicated anime boards. University anime groups, with giant lecture halls, professional video presentation equipment, and a captive audience of bored nerds, sprang up wholly independently of any extant fan networks. The anime club officers of the 1980s were growing up, graduating college, getting married, moving on to careers and lives beyond a monthly appointment to deliver Japanese cartoons to a roomful of fans, some of whom hadn’t bathed or been to the Laundromat in a while. 


They’re still around, that Class Of ’85. You can probably find a few survivors at your local anime con holding forth behind a panel table or on a couch in the hotel lobby, spinning tales of what fandom was like in the days of laser discs and Beta tapes. Some are no longer with us, living on in photographs, the dot matrix print of club newsletters, and in the fond memories of their fellow anime fans.  Others have moved on to the far corners of the Earth or across town, in a world that now recognizes the truth of what they were trying to say three decades ago. Turns out this Japanese animation thing is pretty cool after all.  

so long, Bill.

10th anniversary of 15th anniversary of Metal Skin Panic Madox-01

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This review of AnimEigo’s Madox-01 15thAnniversary Special Collector’s Edition first appeared in 2005. Since then, I’ve learned a few more things about Madox-01, namely that Hideaki “Evangelion” Anno did some key animation for it, and that my DVD of this titlehas mysteriously vanished. Did I loan it to you?

Notable for being AnimEigo’s first release, Metal Skin Panic Madox-01 led the way for uncut, subtitled Japanese animation to the American market.  Before this release, anime in the States was available either as chopped-and-dubbed kidvid for the afterschool UHF audience, or as cheaply designed videotapes in the “Family” section of your local video rental. After AnimEigo and Madox, America would see an invasion of unadulterated, sometimes adults-only anime aimed directly at the shelves of your local Blockbuster, and things would never be the same again.



Apart from this note of historical interest, Madox is otherwise unremarkable except to serve as an example of several things: of the mid-1980s Original Video Animation boom, of the persistence of abnormal hair color in Japanese anime characters, and of just how obsessive and nitpicky a design team can get when it comes to military hardware.

The OVA era of the 1980s is an important time in Japanese animation; creative teams raised on groundbreaking animation like Gundam and Yamato seized the means of production and started producing direct-to-video animation. Titles like Vampire Hunter D,Bubblegum Crisis, and M.D. Geist would become legends, while others likeDigital Devil Story and Cosmos Pink Shock would vanish into sometimes well-deserved obscurity.  Unrestrained by the mores of television broadcasters or the financial obligations of theatrical release, OVA productions used their freedom to produce groundbreaking, artistically challenging works that were too risky for traditional release, animation that reflected more personal visions, rather than the needs of the toy company sponsors.  Plus, they were easier for American fans to get, since you didn’t have to know somebody in Japanto tape anime from television broadcasts- you could just buy the damned things and have done with it. 

Lack of toy company sponsorship is kind of a shame in the case of Madox-01, since the mechanical hardware on display in this video cries out for a highly detailed toy.  This 1988 release is the story of the MADOX, a self-contained personal armored combat machine; in other words, a very plausible looking, technically feasible version of that hoary old staple of Japanese animation, the giant robot.  Developed by Japanese heavy industry under contract with the US Army and the Japanese Self Defense Forces, we first see the MADOX in action as it defeats three heavy tanks in fierce combat. The American tank commander Kilgore wants a rematch, but MADOX’s test pilot Kusomoto, who is naturally a sexy Japanese woman with orange hair and a tight combat suit, isn’t interested.  The MADOX is crated up and put on a truck to be sent to the US HQ in Tokyo



After Tokyo’s bad drivers cause the truck to crash, the crated-up MADOX winds up in an auto repair shop.  Teenage greasemonkey Kouji takes it home to spend the afternoon messing with the whatever-it-is before he meets his girlfriend that night.  So he puts the MADOX on, which by the way was shipped while in “scramble mode”, and before he knows it the thing is rocketing through the Tokyostreets, out of control, with the JSDF and the US Army in hot pursuit.



Now Kouji has to dodge Kusomoto who’s in MADOX-02, he’s under attack from Col. Kilgore riding a cute little articulated tank, the skies are full of Apache attack helicopters – and he’s got to meet his girlfriend atop the NSRBuildingbefore she leaves forever!!  What’s a Japanese teenager to do?



What follows is standard-issue anime-style urban property destruction, replete with authentic otaku-approved guns & ammo and a mysterious lack of civilian casualties.  You remember what high-tech war is like – lots of expensive precision machinery operated by skilled, highly trained professional technicians, waged far away from noncombatants, and not much at all like the real thing.  For all its fetishization of military hardware, Madox-01 is as much of a fantasy as the dumbest, most outlandish transforming robot cartoon. Which, by the way, is UFO Diapollon. Or maybe Magnetic Robo Ga-Keen.

The theme of military action destroying an unwitting civilian Tokyo has been visited in the world of anime many times, most notably by Hayao Miyazaki in Lupin IIIepisode #155, “Farewell Lovely Lupin”, where the spectacle of tanks and artillery blasting away at Tokyolandmarks was shown to have terrible consequences. There’s no such moralizing here in Madox, where the full panoply of warfare is unleashed with total casualties being, um, one.

Of course, expecting any kind of editorial position from a 40-minute OVA is probably asking too much, but jeez, the guys who made this video lived within a subway ride of some of the heaviest firepower on that side of the globe, and you’d think they had some sort of opinion about it other than, “boy, isn’t this stuff cool.”  Then again, this was the 1980s; destruction without context was just the way things were done back then.


Giant shoulders, suspenders, and a wimped-out synthesizer soundtrack constantly remind the viewer that he is back in the days of Max Headroom and New Coke.  Tamura Hideki’s character designs reach a nadir of sorts in Kusomoto; her giant forehead and weirdly angled chin resemble nothing so much as the specter of perennial TV game show guest Dorothy Kilgallen.  ARTMIC’s  animation is naturally obsessive and detailed in scenes containing military ordinance, and surprisingly inept with the human figure; there are some rather basic animation errors towards the end of Madox-01 that show us exactly where the studio’s mind was.

The English dub, by Swirl, isn’t really anything special; there’s not a lot of dialog in this OVA to begin with, and what we do get is rendered competently but without flash. Subtitles include details on what “N.B.C.” warfare means, and suffice to say we’re not talking Leno versus Letterman. There are two Japanese language tracks, one with English subtitles and another with minimal subtitles, a nice touch for those conversant with the language.

Further evidence as to what floats Madox-01’s boat is evident in the ten-minute accompanying featurette, a live-action documentary look at the JSDF’s heavy hitters circa 1988.  Apache helicopters, tanks, howitzers, rocket launchers, recoilless rifles, and other crowd-pleasers are shown at the Mt.Fuji proving grounds, blasting helpless paper targets into oblivion as we’re shown the real-life versions of all those models in Godzilla films. It’s an interesting look at Japan’s defense-only military during the height of cold-war bubble-economy budgets.


Madox-01’s place in AnimEigo history is confirmed with another extra, a Q&A session with CEO Robert Woodhead that reveals, among other things, that for their first release he chose Madox over Project A-Ko. Another Q&A with audio director Eric Tomosunas of Swirl Recordings & Film isn’t quite as interesting.  The commentary track features Eric and several of the lead Madox voice talent.  Early on diverges from commenting on Madox to a round-table discussion on what it’s like to dub Japanese cartoons in general;  interesting, but not anything that hasn’t happened at every anime convention ever.

As an historical artifact, this 15th anniversary edition of Madox-01is about as classy a package as you’re going to get for a 40-minute, otherwise forgotten OVA.  It’s a relic from the early days of direct-to-video animation, and much like its counterparts from those days, isn’t a bad piece of anime for an evening’s rental.  There’s something to be said for a short, self-contained story with enough action and suspense to keep itself going for 40 minutes.  You’re not asked for a long investment of time, there aren’t legions of characters to keep track of or a backstory to research; just put it on the TV and enjoy watching the stuff blow up. 





at the movies

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Movies! Everybody loves 'em.  And if you're reading this blog, chances are the kind of movies you like come from Japanand are animated! And chances are also that if you were a kid in the 60s or even the 70s or the 80s, you might have had the chance to see a Japanese animated film in your local drive-in or at a kiddy matinee, long before Akiraand Totoro would tag-team the arthouse cinemas of North Americaand turn "cartoons" into "animation.” We’re talking back in the day here, long before Japanese animation was seen as a viable entertainment medium, way before anyone realized that “Annie May” was anything other than maybe the name of the big-haired lady selling tickets in the box office.
 
Magic Boy
And like all great journeys this one begins with a ninja. Magic Boy (Shonen Sarutobi Sasuke, 1959) would be the first Japanese animated film to get North American theatrical release, screening in June of ‘61 courtesy MGM. The ninja magic of Magic Boy was followed very closely by Globe Pictures’ American release of Toei’s Panda And The Magic Serpent (Hakujaden). This movie premiered in Japan a year before Magic Boy, making it the first color Japanese animated film. Panda, directed by Taiji Jack & The Witch Yabushita, at one point was widely available via poorly transferred public domain VHS. 60s America was filled with Japanese imports; not just transistor radios playing Kyu Sakamoto's "Sukiyaki", but anime feature films like Alakazam The Great, The Littlest Warrior,  Little Prince & The Eight Headed Dragon, and Gulliver's Travels Beyond The Moon would enthrall kids at matinees and in the playgrounds of drive-in theaters.


lobby cards, print ads, & LPs for Alakazam, Panda, and others

Once the 1970s got moving, Japan's hunger for big-budgeted children's animation features would be replaced by hunger for TV shows starring easily marketable toy robots, Ultramen, and Masked Riders. Fewer animated films were made in Japan, and consequently fewer made their way across the pond to entertain and mystify us.

poster and lobby cards for Nobody's Boy
One of these stragglers was Yugo Serikawa's Chibikko Remi to Meiken Kapi (Little Remi and Capi, The Famous Dog), the first anime adaptation of Hector "Perrine Story" Malot's novel Sans Famille. This 1970 Toei release affects a jarring, very dated 1960 visual style.  Under the title Nobody’s Boy, the film wouldn’t make it into American theaters until the early 1980s, courtesy "Malijack Productions" and an English dub starring Jim "Thurston Howell III" Backus. Nobody's Boy would later appear on cable TV and in the children's video sections of video rental stores in the USand UK.


The fairy tale Jack And The Beanstalk may be an old story, but when you put a director like Gisaburo Sugii in charge, things are bound to get surreal, and that’s exactly what happens in this 1974 feature. Nippon Herald’s Jack didn't have to wait a decade but made it to US cinemas in the year of its release via Columbia Pictures. Mixing European and Japanese animation styles, it sidesteps cliches and winds up a thoughtful, slightly eerie film, fully storybook-enabled for the kids, yet unearthly and visually dynamic enough to entertain adults.

newspaper ad from Seattle Times, June 1980
1980 would be an almost unheralded turning point in the world of anime localization; Roger Corman's New World Pictures would release Toei's 1979 Galaxy Express 999 film in theaters across America. For the first time,  a popular Japanese property would be brought to the States a few months after its Japanese release and marketed not as a children's picture but a science-fiction adventure on the level of Star Wars. This is the kind of simultaneous, professional, serious anime release we’ve come to take for granted here in the modern world, but in 1980 this approach simply hadn’t happened before.

Reviews are kinda harsh
Don't confuse "Galaxy Express" with
"Midnight Express." Trust me.
Of course the New World version of Galaxy Express would be problematic; edits for time would chop half an hour out of Tetsuro Hoshino’s journey to the Mechanized Planet, and celebrity impersonation voice acting made Captain Harlock's appearance less impressive than it might otherwise have been. It was 1980, people still didn't take Japanese animation very seriously. But, and this is the important part, they were taking it more seriously than they had been. Galaxy Express would screen across America, with trailers, radio spots, posters and TV ads advertising Leiji Matsumoto's Rin Taro-directed space fantasy to a nation just awakening to the potential of Japanese space cartoons. The film would appear post-cinema on cable TV and finish its life cycle in the shelves of home video stores with a VHS release, lodging deep in the memories of young viewers who would struggle years later to recall the name of "that cartoon with the train in space."


Five years later, in the midst of releasing gems like Space Raiders, Deathstalker, and C.H.U.D., New World snagged another prestigious Japanese anime release, Tokuma Shoten/Top Craft's Nausicaa, directed by some guy named Hayao Miyazaki. A singular science-fantasy vision of ecological destruction, the film was an instant classic and put Miyazakion the map as Japan's top anime director. New World would waste no time in again cutting thirty minutes, dumbing down the dialogue, and creating new poster art that split the difference between Mad Max, Dune, and Star Trek. Still, we have to take the bad with the good, and Warriors would, like Galaxy Express before it, be seen on screens across the United States and Canada.


Miyazaki’s Nausicaawas powerful enough to withstand any amount of shoddy localization. Theater patrons and later those who saw the film on cable television or rental VHS couldn’t help but be impressed by the film, even if the main character was now named "Zandra", and its clear refusal to be a "children's film" makes it a milestone on American movie screens.

Toronto Star movie listing and VHS box art for "Warriors"
But was it?  Were there earlier attempts at releasing Japanese anime films aimed at grownups in America? Well, there was one. Maybe two. Osamu Tezuka's Mushi Productions, responsible for internationally successful shows about robot boys and talking white lions, took a chance on feature animation for older audiences in the late 60s. Their 1969 "Animerama" feature A Thousand And One Nights, based on Sir Richard Burton's translation of the bawdy Arabic folk tales, is a who's who of anime talent like Osamu Dezaki and Eichi Yamamoto, resulting in a reasonably entertaining if meandering film. Purportedly an English-dubbed version received a very limited theatrical release in America, but the only surviving evidence is the dubbed trailer.

from the English trailer for "A Thousand And One Nights"
Mushi's next feature, 1970s Cleopatra, was an indulgent mess, a hodgepodge of sight gags, anachronisms, and Dame Oyaji and Sazae-San cameos crammed into the story of Antony, Cleopatra, and Caesar, all bookended by a bizarre live-action/cartoon-head science-fiction subplot. A massive flop in Japan, this film was a crippling blow to Mushi's finances; desperately they licensed the movie to an American distributor, who released it with a self-imposed X rating under the title "Cleopatra Queen Of Sex." Unlike A Thousand And One Nights, evidence of Cleopatra's American release does exist; at least one screening of a subtitled print took place at New York City's Bijou in April of 1972. Variety's review is not kind, referencing a "disconcerting clash of styles in the animation" and "an overabundance of bawdy blue grossness",  remarking "it is difficult to imagine anyone being aroused by the naked breasts of a cartoon character," a sentiment no doubt shocking to today's waifu-worshipping 2D love slaves.

"Cleopatra, Queen Of Sex"
The failure of Cleopatra and of its followup Belladonna Of Sadness (which after critical re-evaluation is getting a remastered theatrical release) would leave animated films for grownups in the hands of Ralph "Wizards" Bakshi and whatever Europeans were thinking when they made Tarzoon, Shame Of The Jungle. After Warriors Of The Wind blew away, there would be a long, dark movie-house anime interregnum; sure, the stitched-together Robotech The Movie would briefly appear, only to be hurriedly whisked away to a hazardous waste containment facility.  It would be late 1989 before Streamline Pictures delivered Katsuhiro Otomo’s Akirato American cinemas, making Japanese animation a force to be reckoned with wherever on the Venn diagram film snobs and animation nerds meet. Nowadays new releases of films by Mamoru Oshii or Mamoru Hosoda, Isao Takahata or Hayao “Gone Fishing” Miyazaki are a safe bet to show up in towns with hip, with-it theaters.

However, the decline of  the neighborhood video rental, difficult times for movie theater owners,  the collapse of physical media, and the whimsical unreliability of streaming video all herald a new and unsatisfying era for the seeker of slightly nontraditional cinema.  Will the local theater once again become our window into the world of non-Disney animation for adults and kids and adults who think like kids? Can we ever return to the days of the double feature, the all-night shockathon, the kiddy matinee, the hunger of an industry desperate to fill its screens with darn near anything that will fit through the projector’s shining gate? Probably not.  Still, as long as popcorn pops in a lobby somewhere, as long as our feet still stick to the floors of our neighborhood movie house, we’ll always have hope.

let's all go to the lobby


Special thanks to Chris Hill and the Toronto Public Library for their assistance.

air quotes required; the story of "Japanimation" the magazine

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The exciting thing about the independent comic boom of the 1980s is that pretty much anybody with 32 pages of content and a line of credit at a printer could be a comic book publisher, right up there with Stan Lee and Jenette Khan and the Goldwaters over at Archie. Alternatively, the depressing thing about the independent comic boom of the 80s is, again, pretty much anybody could be a comic book publisher, which led to comic shops being flooded with subliterate, non-returnable junk, which then inevitably led to the independent comic bust of the late 1980s.

Of course, for our purposes the 80s meant Robotech and a big new wave of anime fans bursting forth in an explosion of fan activity. The networks of clubs, newsletters and fanzines, of murky comic con video rooms and disreputable comic con dealers, of standing around the comic shop waiting for the next issue of Robotech Masters and for something called "Viz" to release something called "Area 88" - all this interest congealed in a few professional, comic-shop distributed publications devoted to Japanese animation.  Protoculture Addicts, Animag,and Anime-Zine all vied for the late 1980s reader, but today we look at a singular example of the genre, simply titled "Japanimation". This portmanteau, once the hip, with-it term used by those "in the know"when describing Japanese animation, may very well have been coined by superfan and Desslok cosplayer Rob Fenelon, but its time in the sun was cut mercifully short; fandom soon settled on the sportier soubriquet "anime" and “Japanimation” was left as a newbie shibboleth.
  
From Detroit's Eclectic Press and edited by future independent filmmaker Joseph Doughrity, "Japanimation" is right out of a 1987 time capsule. There's the charmingly confusing katakana in the title, some muscular off-model Yamato fan art, and ads for NinjaHigh School and Comico’s Robotechcomics. Setting type with a dot-matrix printer? Why not, it’s the 80s.


Robotech producer Harmony Gold’s litigious reputation shines brightly here in "Japanimation"'s editorial page, which explains how their previous issue's Robotech coverage offended HG's tender sensibilities. Hence this issue's focus on Star Blazers, a latchkey kid of a property its American corporate masters barely remembered they owned, let alone cared about.  Readers will also be happy to learn that "the cute boom" of Outlanders, Wanna-Bes, and something called "Dragonball" was then currently detonating over Japan. Better catch it while you can! Who knows how long a show like Dragonball will last?


"Japanimation" keeps us up to date on the latest news gleaned from other, more professional periodicals - Viz Comics will be publishing Area 88 and Mai The Psychic Girl, while Now Comics has the Speed Racer license and also hedges their Japanese cartoon bets with the home-grown "Dai Kamikaze", a really terrible all-American take on the giant robot.



"Japanimation" fans will be pleased to learn also that hobby kit importer Twentieth Century Imports will be releasing all of Votoms on VHS tape in the United States, news courtesy the Somebody Making Stuff Up News Network. This combination of press releases and wishful thinking was emblematic of anime-club newsletter writing of the period.



Meanwhile, Manga American Style delivers up to the minute reviews of the stuff on the racks down at Bob's Elf Dungeon & Comics World that the owner only carries because you and your two weird pals constantly bug him about it. Is this perhaps the earliest American Golgo 13 fan art?


But now it's on to the meat of "Japanimation" - their feature story on Space Cruiser Yamato, the Japanese SF anime hit that was yesterday's news in Japanbut still garnering fan interest in Americacourtesy syndicated Star Blazers reruns.  Four pages synopsizing Yamato’s voyages may seem a bit much, but remember, many American fans might not even know half these Yamato adventures existed. In 1987, seeing Yamato films on home video in the States meant quasi-legally swapping fuzzy VHS tapes with strangers. Who’s got time for that?



If necessary, the enterprising anime magazine editor can also fill eight or nine pages with a Yamato character guide and a complete synopsis of every episode of the first Star Blazers series, simultaneously padding out their magazine and saving the Earth!



And if you still have two pages to kill, why not just print out the lyrics to the Star Blazers theme song? Why not indeed? Actually there are many, many good reasons as to why not. But let’s move on.



When you're all done be sure to list your sources - meaning, the Roman Albums you photocopied artwork from, and the Ardith Carlton and Fred Schodt articles that were the only available English-language resources at the time, unless you’re counting fan art of Derek Wildstar fighting Bruce Lee or the Star Blazers cast drawn as horses.


Rounding out this issue of "Japanimation" is a humorous fan cartoon from an uncredited Paul Sudlow (okay, he’s credited on the title page, just not here) and what would have been a fine advertisement for model kit outfit TCI, if "Japanimation" had remembered to actually place TCI's name on their ad. Oops. Anyway, it makes a great back cover illustration, and probably inspired years worth of conjecture among readers as to what exactly a "Galvion"was.


"Japanimation" would last one more issue under this title, would change to "Anime Journal" with issue #4, and then vanished into 25-cent longboxes in the back rooms of North American comic shops. Was this just one more semi-pro anime magazine? Or was its very name emblematic of the thrilled, slightly confused era of anime fandom from which it sprang? Is “Japanimation” evidence of the influence American comic book culture had on anime fandom’s development? And will the term “Japanimation” ever make a non-ironic comeback? (Yes, yes, yes, and hopefully not.)

thanks to Eclectic Press, Andrew Popp, Steve Harrison, Paul Sudlow, and the comic shops of America for making this article possible

show me your space

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The theme song asks us to show it our space, a mighty jungle call echoes as a hero swings from vine to vine, and a beautiful space traveler escapes evil robots! Is it Tarzan or Star Wars - or both? This is Tatsunoko’s 1984 series OKAWARI-BOY Starzan S, a goofy romp through two continents’ worth of pop culture, delivering comedy, action, and romance. Mostly comedy. Fondly remembered by viewers who were too few to keep this series alive, the show was cancelled early and vanished utterly. What is the mystery of Starzan S?

Somewhere in the galaxy the planet Kirakira is troubled. The Senobi tribe wants to be left alone in their forests, but the Robot tribe of, naturally, robots, are desperate for natural resources to fuel their robot lifestyle. Only one thing protects the Senobi- our hero, the OKAWARI-BOYStarzan S who defeats the schemes of Robot leader Darth Bellow and his mechanical monsters with equal doses of Tarzan vine-swinging, Magnus Robot Fighter robot punching, and various transforming mechanical devices that coincidentally make great toys.

Starzan Yell, Starzan Kick
Into this quaint pop culture remix crash-lands Jun Yagami. Armed only with some blurry photos, a mini-skirt, and a collapsible ray-gun, this beautiful teenage space traveler is searching for her missing father, who vanished while tracking down a legendary space utopia named “Paratopia.”

Hot on Jun’s space-booted heels come the Maneko clan in their garish candelabra of a starship. Mama Maneko, convinced Paratopia holds the secret to eternal youth, is the matriarch of a toilet-paper dynasty. Her daughter Leeds is a haughty would-be beauty, and Leeds’ henpecked husband Hachiro takes abuse from them both. Meanwhile, their son Ebirusu, a comedy version of Vegas-era Elvis Presley, has only one goal in mind, the hand of the lovely Jun. Disabled in a great cosmic storm, both parties crash-land on Kirakira. Sides are quickly chosen; the Manekos wind up with the Robots while Jun is rescued by the God Of The Jungle, Starzan!

the Maneko family album
Yes, Starzan, who oscillates between being a dashing warrior or a short goof, who can defeat robots with his mighty blows yet occasionally trip over his own feet, and whose first glimpse of Jun begins a teenage space romance that will shake the very foundations of Kirakira, and perhaps the galaxy itself! 

OKAWARI-BOY Starzan S aired in Urashiman’s old Fuji-TV timeslot, Saturdays at 6:30pm, from January to August 1984. Starzan underperformed in the ratings and the show was replaced by an even more obscure Tatsunoko series, the auto-mechanic adventure Yoroshiku Mechadoc. But for 34 weeks viewers would thrill to Starzan, his little Ewokish buddy Mutan, and the friendly Senobi tribe’s struggle to protect Jun from the rampaging Robots and whatever nutty scheme Ma Maneko and her dopey clan were pushing. The theme song “Show Me Your Space” was sung by Poplar, aka Sumiko Fukuda, who’d later sing tunes for Dream Warrior Wingman and Disney’s Beauty And The Beast. Yoshitaka Amano is credited as Starzan S character designer, but the rounded, soft features betray the hand of Takayuki Goto, who'd work on other Tatsunoko projects like Zillion and features as varied as the chicken comedy Gu Gu Ganmoand the cyborg non-comedy Appleseed.  The animation is fluid, the music is great, the characters and colors are bouncy and 80s, and Jun takes a lot of baths and shows a lot of her space. To be fair, so does Starzan; equal opportunity fanservice in action.

the course of outer space teenage romance never runs smooth
An SF comedy, Starzan S has plenty of monsters, aliens, spaceships, dimensional warps, and other genre staples. Starzan’s main mecha, the transforming gorilla-bird-plesiosaur-buffalo Mecha Starzan S, provides much of the show’s required 1980s anime show transforming-mecha footage. But Starzan S unabashedly ditches the sci-fi for comedy, never hesitating to abandon its lead in favor of whatever crazy scheme or sad character defect of the Manekos is driving that week’s script (any resemblance to Tatsunoko’s earlier bad-guy focused Time Bokan series is purely intentional).

Hachiro in an unusual mood, Leeds and Maneko are not impressed
Grandma Maneko’s character was based on singer, arts patron, and industrialist Masako “Pink Billionairess” Ohya, who reportedly owned 3600 pink dresses and six golf courses. Rumor has it her daughter Leedswas based on screen legend Elizabeth Taylor. Leeds in turn dominates her diminutive, frilly-collared husband Hachiro (modeled on boxer-turned comedian Octopus Hachiro), and everybody indulges Ebirusu in what is described as his “illicit love” for Jun Yagami, herself a take on the real-life singer Junko Yagami, who recorded songs for Final Yamato, a pile of hit singles and albums, and now lives in the United States. 
obligatory Mojo Nixon reference

The heavy lifting in these harebrained Maneko stratagems is usually carried out by hapless Robot tribesbots. The Robots are led by Darth Bellow, a diminutive Darth Vader (voiced by Darth Vader’s Japanese voice actor Toru “Dr. Nambu” Ohira), but their ultimate ruler is a maniacal Barbie doll named “Mother” who resides in a giant rice cooker, and their battle leader is Tetsujin Ultra Z, a dopey cross between Tetsujin-28 and Ultraman. In peaceful contrast, the diminutive Senobi people live an idyllic existence under the gentle guidance of their leader, the kindly… wait for it… Obi-Wan Senobi.

Darth Bellow, Tetsujin Ultra Z in super pose
The pieces of Starzan S fall into place early and the show settles into its Jun-capturing, Starzan-rescuing, Paratopia-questing groove. Starzan’s face gets stuck in goofy mode and he becomes a masked tokusatsu hero. An amnesia-causing tidal wave isolates Jun and Ebirusu – is this his big chance for love?  Starzan shows Jun his secret jungle home, an upside-down wrecked spaceship now home to weird nightclubbing aliens, complete with a Sex Pistols needle drop. Ma Maneko has the Robots construct a giant angry Buddha Maneko statue robot; what could go wrong? There’s a visit Mutan’s home planet, a dead ringer for the Ewok-infested moon of Endor, and we learn how he and Starzan met. Jun and Starzan and the rest of the cast travel to Earth where the mystery of Starzan’s heritage is revealed, and the bankrupt Maneko family’s possessions are traumatically auctioned off. On their return to Kirakira, the evidence all points to one conclusion – that the show is almost over and they’d better wrap things up! Paratopia’s secret is revealed partly through the viewing of hundreds of Beta videotapes, the dark mystery behind Darth Bellow is solved, the Robot and Senobi tribes bury the robot hatchet, and peace finally returns to the beautiful planet Kirakira, where the triumphant jungle yell of Starzan still echoes through the forest.

Starzan S records, books, toys
So the big question is, what the heck does “Okawari Boy” mean, anyway?  Well, “okawari” is a Japanese expression  used when requesting a second helping of food or another drink, the “kawari” meaning “instead of something” or “replacement”. So in the context of Starzan being a replacement for Tarzan, it makes sense. I guess. Sure. Why not.  The other big question is, what happened to Starzan S?

The show never even had the courtesy of a home video release; all that survive are home-taped TV broadcasts. Tatsunoko shamelessly mines its own back catalog for concepts and characters, yet no reboot for Starzan S. Why no revival? Some theories: perhaps a show starring characters based on real people (Maneko, Ebirusu, Jun) and thinly disguised parodies of extant, copyrighted fictional characters (Darth Bellow, Starzan) is bound to attract the attention of somebody’s legal department somewhere, attention the notoriously lawsuit-averse Japanese are loath to attract. Add Starzan’s weak TV reception to the mix, and it’s safe to assume Tatsunoko was/is reluctant to throw good money after bad.

Starzan S, Mutan, and Ebiten, Ojinbo, and Kakasan of the Senobi
Starzan S was heavy on the cultural Japanese gags so it’s unsurprising that international markets were also slow to warm to the series, though Starzan S did make it to Spainand Korea and two reported VHS releases in Poland. Without any sort of (non-Polish) home video release, Starzan S vanished, and like other obscure Tatsunoko series "Animentary Ketsudan" and "Meiyo no Sukouto", the series was only able to make a dent among Western anime fans through international tape-trading; an already tenuous link dependent upon a select, obsessive-compulsive group of Japanese fans.

Still, let’s not be too maudlin. The viewing public’s gestalt mind probably made the right call; OKAWARI-BOY Starzan S is manifestly a 1984 artifact, a product of that final pop of the anime boom, a cute 34 episode SF comedy. Wackier than Urashiman, not as wacky as Ippatsuman, smart (or lucky) enough to not overstay its welcome, leaving behind nothing more than some toys, some fond memories, a giant wrecked Buddha Maneko robot, and the echoing call of the God Of The Jungle.  Will we ever find our own Paratopia of a Starzan S re-release on DVD or BD or streaming or some new, heretofore unheard of technology? Will we, once again, be able to show OKAWARI-BOY Starzan S all our spaces?










"...I Promise Never To Lower The Standard Of The Galactic Patrol."

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SF NEW CENTURY LENSMANdazzled with state of the 1984 art techniques and a heroic pulp-fiction pedigree, but left behind only VHS tape and a few well-designed toys. In its wake Western SF readers were nonplussed with the film’s changes and Japanese animation fans looked at contemporaneous anime movies like Nausicaa and Macross: Do You Remember Love and found Lensman lacking. Six years later Lensman received a North American release and audiences found its computer animation dated, its quasi-Star Wars story thin, and compared with Akira, Ninja Scroll, or god help us, Legend Of The Overfiend, it was dismissed.



But can we just toss SF New Century Lensman onto the cartoon junkpile? Sure, it’s a wannabe Lucasfilm sprinkled with car-ad CG that freely adapts nickel-a-word pulp written back when “a computer” was a guy with an adding machine and a green eyeshade. But when the film’s allowed to give us a galaxy of minutely-detailed space-hoppers zipping around gorgeously detailed alien worlds, when Worsel, the dragon Velantian Lensman, blasts Kim Kinnison and Van Buskirk out of the terrible grip of the hideous Catlats, when Kim’s DeLameter ray-pistol flares with the scintillating force characteristic of the Galactic Patrol’s most powerful hand-weapon, when the Kawajiri direction overwhelms the plot holes or the big chunks of empty space left in the film for somebody in New York to finish via ‘computer animation’ – well, friends, it’s to Civilization’s benefit that the parts of Lensman that are good are very good indeed.



When Edward Elmer “Doc” Smith, PhD, introduced the Lensmen in “Galactic Patrol” as a six-part serial starting in September ‘37’s Astounding, he moved space opera beyond the interstellar stage of his previous “Skylark Of Space” and into realms galactic and eventually inter-galactic. Space drives, force fields, anti-matter spheres and thought-screens became brushstrokes on Smith’s canvas, using the Lensman stories to illuminate a sprawling, eons-spanning saga of two diametrically opposed cultures using entire civilizations as weapons. Smith’s epic continued through the serialized novels “Gray Lensman” (1939), “Second Stage Lensman” (1941) and climaxed in 1947’s “Children Of The Lens”, while a 1934 work, “Triplanetary” would be retrofitted into the Lensman continuity in ‘48 and 1950’s “First Lensman” would fill the gap between it and “Galactic Patrol”. His work would be in print for decades, and after his death several authors would continue the Lensman universe in companion novels of varying quality.

Japanese edition Lensman novels with wonderful cover art by Hiroshi Manabe
Lensman first appeared in Japan in 1969 with Kaiseisha’s “Masterpiece Animated Picture Story” series adaptation of Galactic Patrol. Subsequently, the full Lensman series would be published by in turn by Shueisha, Akane Shobo, Poplar, and Kodansha. As the 80s anime boom echoed across Asia, Kodansha/Toho/Towa might have seen adapting American SF had worked well for Toei’s Captain Future (originally by Edmond Hamilton) and in live-action for Tsubaraya with Hamilton’s Starwolf. It’s clear somebody in Japan was into the Lensman; apart from its extensive Japanese publishing history, the Lensman world had just been used as the basis for one of my all-time arcade favorites, Namco’s 1981 space-shooting video game Bosconian.

SF 新世紀レンズマンSF New Century Lensman– or “SF New Wave Lensman” according to the toy boxes - was released by Toho-Towa in July of 1984. Produced by MK/Madhouse for Kodansha, the film was directed by future Ninja Scroll auteur Kawajiri and SSX/Baldios helmer Kazuyuki Hirokawa, and would be inescapable for the next few months in theaters, bookstores, toy stores, and TV screens as a stylish, shiny, computer driven media juggernaut that became, almost instantly, an artifact of 1980s aesthetics. How does this animated film stack up against its pulp-fictional ancestor, itself emblematic of its own era?

E.E. Smith wastes no time world building in 1937’s Galactic Patrol. Hell, he doesn’t even tell us what year it is. We’re dropped right into Galactic Patrol Graduation, as the best and brightest of the best and the brightest become unstoppable outer-space military policemen, known across the stars by their symbol of truth and justice, the Lens. As top of his class, our hero Kimball Kinnison is automatically volunteered for a dangerous mission; take the GP’s new supership Britannia and capture a space warship of the enemy, the piratical Boskone. 

Meanwhile in the 1984 anime version, Kim Kinnison is Luke Skywalkering it as a young farm boy on a backwards planet, enjoying a bucolic lifestyle with his dad and robot pal “Soll”, as his dad’s old friend, the bullish, bearded Van Buskirk, arrives in his junky spaceship to give him a lift to Space Academy (Saturdays on CBS).  This charming family scene is interrupted as the GP battleship Brittania (sp) crash lands in the middle of the soybean crop, straight out of the film’s opening sequence, itself an eruption of hideous Boskonian brain-vessels and shiny computer-generated Galactic Patrol ships.

Stumbling out of the Brittania is a Lensman, a character so important the film doesn’t bother to give him a name. In this nameless, mortally injured Lensman’s Lens is the secret to destroying the Boskone headquarters. Who can assume the Lens and deliver this vital data to Galactic Patrol Prime Base? Why, Kim Kinnison can. Kim’s given the Lens in a scene full of scintillating energy rays and exquisitely detailed CG that has infuriated fans of the literary Lensman ever since.  EVERYBODY, even the most brainless Zabriskan fontema, knows the Lens is ONLY bestowed upon the most worthy of sentient beings after a thorough mental investigation by Mentor of Arisia!

This sort of departure from the source material exasperated “Doc” Smith fans and Smith’s family/executors, which didn’t have script approval and weren’t and maybe still aren’t happy with the finished film. And sure, they have a point. However, for many fans of a certain age (myself included), the anime Lensman was their first exposure to the world; their doorway to a lifetime of enjoying Smith’s works from Lensman through Skylarkand right on to his masterpiece, Spacehounds Of IPC.

Worsel, Clarrissa, Van Buskirk, Kim Kinnison (unattached)
The two Lensman works aren’t fundamentally at odds; many story beats from Galactic Patrol are given a workout in SF New Century Lensman. In both versions our heroes escape the doomed Britannia in space lifeboats, both feature Kim and Van Buskirk battling the horrifying tentacled Catlats and being rescued by their new pal Worsel, the dragonish Velantian Lensman. Our heroes face the snail-like and frankly disgusting Overlords Of Delgon in both iterations. In each, Kim faces grotesque alien menaces, is soundly beaten, and is nursed back to health by Clarrissa "Chris" MacDougall, top GP medico and inevitable Kinnison love interest – I say inevitable because she is the only woman to get any lines, in either the film or the book. 30s pulp fiction is kind of masculine, to say the least.



Sure, much in Galactic Patrol gets shifted around or ditched outright by the film. For instance thionite, the addictive drug sapping the vital strength of Civilization, is mined on Radelix in the film, but in Smith’s novel is harvested from plants grown in the bizarre environment of planet Trenco. The anime Radelix is a frontier mining planet where our heroes Kim, Chris, and Van Buskirk reunite after escaping the doomed Britannia. Radelix’s only entertainment is a zany disco populated by disco-dancing aliens and DJ’d by the diminutive, elderly, mohawked Wild Bill, dropped into the film without explanation to help hide Kim and Chris in enemy territory. Radelix Base, the narcotics linch-pin of Boskone’s vice campaign, is dealt a serious blow when Kinnison and Van Buskirk go on a high speed scooter bike chase through the planet’s thionite processing plants, leading to lots of the kinds of explosions we’ve come to expect from Japanese animation. Certainly a livelier Radelix than is seen in the novel.


Smith’s Galactic Patrol ignores Kim Kinnison's youth, home town, quirks, preferences, or idiosyncrasies - he's merely Kinnison of the Galactic Patrol, possessed of driving will and herculean strength, chain lightning with his ray-pistols, parenthetically endowed with whatever martial arts skill or science know-how required by any situation. SF New Century Lensman’s Kinnison is a sharp departure from this in pretty much every aspect. Inexperienced in the ways of outer space and The Lens, he is a fresh-faced hayseed tricked out in what appears to be a space onesie, a callow youth fumbling his way through traps and monsters a rougher, tougher literary Lensman would handle easily. On the other hand, the animated Kinnison displays human emotions and has a life beyond Galactic Patrolling, definitely something the textural Lensman lacks.

The Lens itself is, if not a wholly different beast, certainly introduced differently. In the novels the Lens is identifying badge and mental communicator, giving top-notch Galactic Patrolmen a unique, un-copyable symbol of office and allowing them to communicate instantly with any being anywhere in the Universe. Potential Lensmen must voyage to the mysterious planet Arisia, where the ancient, mentally omniscent Arisians bestow individual Lenses upon the worthy. Those not measuring up are prohibited from even approaching the planet. Use of the Lens allows Kinnison and other Lensmen to read minds and, after Second Stage training, mentally control the will of others, leading to an arms race of thought-screens and thought-screen-blockers and thought-screen-blocker-piercers throughout the novels. In the film, however, the Lens is a vaguely explained ESPamplifier/ USB drive capable of telepathy with aliens, parrying mental beams of force, and delivering vital military information to Galactic Patrol Headquarters. Not outside the boundaries of what we see in the novels, but a Lens passing from one Lensman to another is strictly contra regs, as Kinnison would say. One man, one Lens; that’s the rule.
the Overlords of Delgon, Wild Bill the Overlord of the Disco
The film's lumpy, chitinous, segmented monster Boskonians resemble the enemies seen in later Lensman novels; the Eich, the Ploorans, and other extra-galactic races of  poison-breathing monsters ruled by brutal each-against-all law of the strongest, all the way up to the Supreme All-Highest of the planet Eddore, whose mental powers are matched only by the Arisians. The struggle between Civilization and Boskone is just the latest in a series of proxy wars waged between Arisia and Eddore, each manipulating races, planets, and cultures. Backstory of this dimension is hard to cram into a film that clocks in under two hours and has a lot of computer animation to show off, and SF New Century Lensman sidesteps the whole business by never bothering to explain who Boskone is and why it's at war with Earth and/or Civilization.

What the film lacks in scriptural fidelity, it makes up for in visual spectacle and intricate, well-designed world building. Boskone’s alien confederation of segmented monsters contort, glow, and deliver a well-designed otherworldliness to the film. Worsel, the winged Lensman from planet Velantia, is wonderfully alien yet expressive, and Van Buskirk fills the novel’s requirements of a rough and ready Space Viking while also delivering needed comic-sidekick relief. The Radelix thionite factory hosts a tremendously destructive chase involving speeder bikes, bazookas, searchlights, hapless guards, ray guns, pipes, railings, spaceships, and explosions; lots of explosions. It's a viscerally satisfying sequence that overwhelms the remainder of the film.


The movie climaxes with Kim wandering through a computer-animation demo, rescuing Clarissa several times, and exchanging mental lightning blasts with the Boskonian big cheese Helmuth. The fleshy architecture of the Boskonian base melts away in Cronenbergian body-horror style and Galactic Patrol's space fleet zaps at Boskonian brain-ships in a tedious counter-example to the Radelix speeder-bike sequence. And that's a real missed opportunity; Smith's Lensman is full of sequences where fleets of starships blast each other with immensely powerful rays, defensive screens, zones of force, and penetrating helixes, all described in flowery “Doc” Smith terms. Seeing these pulp-fiction star-battle physics depicted on the big screen would be terrific - in spite of decades of Star Wars and Star Trek films, no Hollywood movie has approached it – but here Japan's Lensman drops the ball.

To its credit, the film nails Smith's conception of the command and control system necessary for fleet action on a cosmic scale - "the tank", socially the “Directrix”, technically the Z9M9Z, a giant visual real-time representation condensing the movements of countless units into understandable representative icons. This conception was unique in SF of the time, and would later be the basis for US Navy command-and-control systems during World War II. 

this is computer graphics in Lensman
And yes, there is a lot of computer animation in this film and no, it hasn’t aged very well. When delineating shiny, sleek GP warships escaping Boskone’s ugly cruisers via hyperspatial tube, or for trippy mindscape sequences illustrating the limitless potential of the Lens, the computer animation offsets the traditional animation to good effect. If our eyes hadn’t since been overwhelmed by decades of surrealistic computer animation inserted wherever possible, Lensman’s computer effects might still impress. The film's CG was by "Computer Graphics Laboratories, Inc", a pioneering production company created by the New York Institute of Technology's Computer Graphics Lab to produce purely commercial work for clients including Volkswagen, LincolnCenter, and Chevrolet. However, the shiny, slick, swooping-camera look of CG was already becoming a cliché when Lensman was in production and certainly by the time the film made it to America, the fad inspired shrugs rather than awe. That’s the price early adopters sometimes have to pay.    

SF New Century Lensman’s music has held up nicely, however; the film’s soundtrack perfectly matching the futuristic science-world of the visuals. Fusion composer (and Pink Lady keyboardist) Kan Inoue’s instrumentals are big, evocative and vibe-heavy, while folk-rock powerhouse The Alfee throws down a big chunk of ethereal, harmonic space-rock with the film’s theme “Starship”.  My personal favorite piece of Lensman music remains the TV show theme by Eri Kojima, “On The Wing”, which asks us to “give peace a chance tonight”.

just spell "Britannia" however you feel like spelling it, guys
Another outstanding element of the Japanese Lensman is the excellent mechanical design, which sponsor Tomy faithfully rendered into an engaging line of great toys. The Britannia II toy is especially prized; twelve inches of high-tech plastic with gun ports that flip open and fire missiles, a landing craft that itself launches smaller landing craft, and a Q-Gun that pops out of a secret hatch and fires a ball that rolls really, really far before you lose it. Remember to take your AA batteries out after playing with your Britannia II, or some terminal corrosion may occur. Tomy’s Lensman line included spaceships, model kits, blow-up Boskonians, and a toy Lens that fits on your wrist just like the real Lens that you don’t even have to go to Arisia for.

tales of a fourth grade Lensman
Lensman TV show OP
The SF New Century Lensman film was followed by a television series titled “Lensman: Galactic Patrol.” It begins, as most Lensman novels do, by describing the collision of galaxies that led to Arisia and Eddore. In many ways the TV show is closer to the novels; characters like the Rigellian Lensman Tregonsee, Commandant Hohendorff, Surgeon-General Lacey, and Arisia’s Mentorare seen for the first time. On the other hand, the show diverges from canon at will, giving Kim’s robot pal Soll a major sidekick role and portraying Kim as the first-ever Lensman. However, the series wins serious old-school credibility early on by throwing us a future-prediction plot point right out of the novel First Lensman.

The 1984 film received a limited American theatrical and home video release via Streamline Pictures in the early 90s.  Galactic Patrol Lensman ran on TV from October ’84 until August of ’85, and an episode compilation was dubbed by Harmony Gold for home video. HG’s global reach put Lensman video in markets around the world. The film’s visibility in Americaled to Eternity licensing the rights to publish its own Lensman comic book series, which did well enough for two further series. However, the Smith estate would only allow use of material seen in the animated film; Lensman elements that only appeared in the novels were out of bounds. As Eternity Lensman artist Tim Eldred said, “In other words, we couldn't do anything to make the comics more like the novels than the anime.” 
Eternity Lensman comic original art


Japan’s comic book Lensman adventures were a different, less constrained story.  Prolific manga artist and animator MoriBi Murano, whose work includes Unico,  puppy adventure “Hoero Bun Bun” and designing characters for Dagger Of Kamui , worked his sketchy, demonstrative pen line in a Lensman film-adaptation manga that was published in three volumes.  Murano was born in Manchuria when it was still Manchuko, was disabled in a childhood accident, and sadly passed away in 2011, leaving a legacy of hundreds of manga works. Subsequently the TV series received its own Weekly Shonen comic adaptation. Mitsuru Miura’s Lensman was based roughly on the television series but sparkled with Miura’s own wide-eyed charm. You may remember Miura from his popular romantic comedy The Pumpkin Wine, or his manga adaptation of the crazed 1977 horror-comedy Hausu(?!!).

MoriBi Murano's Lensman manga
Mitsuru Miura's Lensman manga. And HAUSU
Samurai Lensman (?!!)
In Japanthe feature film and some of the TV series was released on VHS. The feature film appeared on LaserDisc. And then SF New Century Lensman was over. What happened? Was Kim Kinnison not as appealing as other anime ESPer prettyboys like Justy or Locke The Superman? Did the anime boom fizzle out at just the wrong moment? Were anime space-opera fans merely biding their time until the release of Legend Of Galactic Heroes? Was it merely one more summer anime movie meant to divert audiences and sell toys and be forgotten?  Lensman settled into comfortable retirement on the shelves of used bookstores everywhere, until 2008 when Ron “Opie” Howard’s Imagine Entertainment and Universal Pictures optioned Lensman for a feature film, with J. Michael “Babylon 5” Straczynski reportedly attached to write.  However, in 2014 Straczynski said Imagine/Universal had passed on the project and the rights had been allowed to revert to the Smith estate. Meanwhile in Japan, author Hideyuki Furuhashi continues the Smith tradition with his novel “Samurai Lensman”, the story of a sword-wielding Gray Lensman battling the rebirth of Boskone. 




We may never see another filmic adaptation of Lensman. But the one we have remains a film that entertains, whether you’re upholding the standard of the Galactic Patrol or whether you’re just looking for well-designed spaceships blasting the heck out of Radeligian thionite factories while The Alfee harmonizes and the mental waves of Second Stage Lensmen echo throughout the galaxy. It’s a film that deserves a 21st century high-definition rescue, not only for its own cinematic sake, but also for the universe of E. E. “Doc” Smith’s pulp-fiction adventure that this film drives readers towards, as inexorably as a full battery of cosmic-energy-powered tractor beams, as unstoppably as two inertialess planets smashed directly into the Boskonian base of Jarvenon, and with all the overwrought linguistic energy of a early 20th century writer envisioning all of macro-cosmic space, while still being paid by the word. 

Clear ether, Patrolmen!

Stronger Than Poop: The Cinema Of Dr. Slump

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Akira Toriyama kickstarted the 80s with a one-two manga punch of (1) wonderfully round cartoony characters squirrelling around a fully realized universe of pint-sized automobiles, fat little sunglass-wearing pigs, and the simple yet busy landscape of the best Richard Scarry book ever, and (2) poop jokes. Premiering in January 1980's Jump, Dr. Slump was an instant hit, winning awards, making an ink-stained superstar out of Toriyama, being collected into 18 tankubon collections, and starring in 284 episodes of TV anime from Toei on FUJI-TV. Oh, and eleven films. 

As an 80s anime nerd I knew of Dr. Slump thanks to Ardith Carlton namechecking the show in her seminal Comics Collector piece (Summer 1984 issue); soon afterwards I spotted the first tankubon on sale at the local Japanese grocery store, at a nostalgia-inducing yen-to-dollar exchange rate. It got got before you could say "N'cha!" and even though I couldn't read enough Japanese to find a toilet, Dr. Slump featured plenty of toilets and toilet humor and lots of other goofy SF comedy, universal enough to get laughs around the world, and I was a Dr. Slump fan but good. Viz would later publish the Slump manga in fine English editions, but apart from subtitled Japanese-language TV broadcasts in North American cultural markets and an abortive Harmony Gold pilot, Dr. Slump's animated output wouldn't get a proper English release until 2014's Discotek Media release of the first five Slump films in a two DVD set. Which is what we're talking about here, Akira Toriyama's Dr. Slump (Arale) The Movies.

These Dr. Slump films all feature our Dr. Slump heroes; the inept genius Doctor "Slump" Senbei, his creation the super-robot girl Arale, Arale's inhuman toddler pal Gatchan, Penguin Village juvenile delinquents Taro, Akane, and Peasuke, and their glamorous, slightly scatterbrained teacher Midori Yamabuki as they deal with making demons cry to create love potions (the secret ingredient is boogers), racing around the world with marriage as the prize, being kidnapped by the mecha-wonderland Mechapolis, escaping the clutches of the evil Black Dragon Society somewhere in the 1930s, and outwitting Senbei's arch-rival, the insane super genius Dr. Mashirito, as he bends time and space itself for the hand of the lovely Midori. Filled with secondary and tertiary characters, these Dr. Slump films swarm with cameos by Ultramen, kaiju, Star Wars stormtroopers, droids, and aliens, as well as more familiar faces like Soramame the Clint Eastwood inspired barber and the inept, hateful "superhero" Suppaman.



Produced for various seasonal Toei Manga Matsuri screenings, these short films were originally meant to be enjoyed by cinemas filled with noisy, popcorn-huffing Japanese schoolchildren. How entertaining are they for 21st century, non-Japanese-schoolchild audiences? Your mileage may vary. Let's run down these movies in order of their entertainment value:

Farewell To Space Battleship Slump: Soldiers Of Poop
Mashirito's star turn is in Space Adventure, the best film of the bunch, which brings the full power of Toei's SF animation department to bear on bringing this space opera to thrilling, laser-blasting, star-destroying life. Midori's secret life as alien royalty is revealed and Senbei launches his own outer space battleship into the galaxy to rescue her from a fate worse than death, which is to say life with galactic emperor Dr. Mashirito, voiced by Yasuo "Lupin III" Yamada, taking the insane space dictator / momma's boy role to new heights of glam rock weirdness.


Lampooning Star Wars and Arcadia Of My Youth in equal measure, Space Adventure is required viewing for anyone who's watched Be Forever Yamato, Towards The Terra or Queen Millennia and wondered what those movies would be like with more jokes. I know I have.



The Great Race Around The World is just as satisfying; yes, it's Wacky Races, Dr. Slump style as everybody takes to the open road in a wide variety of improbable vehicles, taking an erratic route around the globe with the hand of the beautiful Princess Front of the Radial Kingdom – who, strangely enough, bears a startling resemblance to Midori Yamabuki – as the prize! Will the evil Dr. Mashirito and his evil supercars defeat our heroes? Will Princess Front be forced to marry someone she can't stand? Will Dr. Slump's depressed kei-class minivan stave off crippling self-doubt long enough to carry Arale across the finish line?

Go Speed Kinoko Go
The City Of Dreams Mechapolis is a curiousity; light on plot, it screens like it was poured right out of the wishes of its ten year old target audience. Penguin Village's kids are all sucked into outer space to Mechapolis, a mechanized-planet wonderland Disney World even more  robot-filled than the actual Disney World, where everyone's dreams come true thanks to robots. Its hazy futurism recalls other dazed and confused anime masterpieces like, say, Noel's Fantastic Trip, and the addition of a painfully long scene involving closeups of Peasuke's prepubescent junk moves from comedy to cringedy with remarkable speed. 

the city of dreams and punching

Luckily, our peek into the childrens' id helps the film recover its humor and we're treated to all sorts of robot-enabled dream scenarios, including idol singing, riding on rollercoasters until you puke, eating lots of food, zapping spaceships, and cosplaying as Ken from fellow Toei anime series Fist Of The North Star. When the surprising ruler of Mechapolis decides to turn this wonderland into a nightmare, things backfire and are only made worse by the addition of that universal Dr. Slump ingredient, poop.

H.P. Lovecraft's "The Doom That Came To Mechapolis"

Hello Wonder Island is an expanded TV episode, itself an expanded manga chapter, in which Senbei journeys to Wonder Island to gather the ingredients for a love potion, the details of which are revealed to him on a videotape recorded by his late father, who knew Senbei would have trouble with girls. It's an earlier Slump story and you can see the characters settling into their roles and the show reaching its sweet spot in terms of crazy inventions and a sexually frustrated Senbei.

The Secret Of Nanaba Castle, on the other hand, is late-period Dr. Slump, with all the signifiers that entails – the Tsun family, two Gatchans, and storylines that begin to resemble the episodic adventures of Toriyama's next series Dragon Ball. The action starts to overpower the goof as Arane and Akane, embedded in a fantasy 30s' Indiana Jones setting as the Hoyoyo Gang of Robin Hood style ninjas, steal not only sweet potatoes (as seen in the original manga story) but an amazing wish-fulfilling gem called the Rainbow Eye from, who else, the dapper millionaire Senbei Norimaki. Their midnight theft is hijacked by the evil super genius and zeppelin enthusiast The Great Bisma of the Black Dragon society (of Count Dante fame, obvs). The Hoyoyo Gang, Police Detective Taro, and various Penguin Villagers endure aerial battles, submarine adventures, and a lava-filled confrontation with the Genie Of The Rainbow Eye in their quest to recover the gem and fill 45 minutes of a film that, in spite of its action trappings, feels longer.

ninjas and blimps; two tastes that taste great together
Discotek's two-disc set looks great, is only occasionally doing a little judicious zooming to turn some of the non-anamorphic films into HDTV-friendly widescreen, and you get all five films with English subtitles and trailers for each of the movies, perfect for dropping in before a screening of a more serious 80s anime film. Which was most of them. As an antidote to Japanese animation's 80s aesthetic, which, let's face it, was heavy on long, draggy films full of planetary destruction, brave sacrifices, and Kitaro music, these Dr. Slump shorts are guaranteed filled with laughs and pep. Not to mention poop.

buy her DVD or she'll destroy you, cutely

your May '16 update

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Hey gang!  Been a busy season here at Let's Anime - well, busy everywhere, to be honest -  and I wanted to drop a quick note and let you know what's going on.

First off, Let's Anime now has a Facebook group so as to facilitate our permeability with regards to social media buzzword infestation topicality. Feel free to join, comment on Let's Anime stuff, start a discussion that will shake the foundations of civilization itself, et cetera.

This weekend is the 20th Anime North and as such I'll be there with guest Shaindle Minuk hosting panels and entertaining the crowds. What exactly will we be up to?


Friday night the popular Anime Hell event will be rockin' the TCC North Main Ballroom, that's what.  And then on Saturday noon Shain and I will be bringing our Mister Kitty Stupid Comics show to the big screen in one of the International Ballrooms!


It's sure to be jam packed with 70 years worth of dumb comics, including a lot of American fake manga, everybody's favorite. Then afterwards I'll lead a crew of grizzled Anime North veterans down Memory Lane as we take a look at the first Anime North back in 1997!


On Sunday it's another trip back in time with a curated visit to Bad American Dubbing, Corn Pone Flicks' mid-1990s series of documentaries highlighting bad American dubbing (what else?)



Popular anime translator Neil Nadelman is also at Anime North this year and he's bringing his famous Totally Lame Anime on Saturday night!


Neil's also moderating panel talks on two favorites, Orguss and V Gundam!




If you aren't able to make it to Anime North - and you might not be able to, weekend and Saturday passes are sold out -  then you can console yourself with a listen to the Anime Nostalgia podcast, the recent one where myself and host Usamimi discuss one of my favorite Japanese animated films, Galaxy Express 999! (warning: contains Apollo Smile)



And if you want a lurid 70s pagan psychedelic freakout as only Eiichi Yamamoto can deliver, then you owe it to yourself to catch one of the many screenings of the 4K restoration of the Animerama classic Belladonna Of Sadness that's roadshowing its way across North America courtesy Cinelicious Pictures!



Hopefully this is enough input to keep you occupied until our next Let's Anime column, which should be appearing shortly. Watch this space!

defender of the universal remote

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From days of long ago, from uncharted regions of the UHF dial, from television producers starved for toyetic robot action, it's Voltron!  Here in the future we're faced with the prospect of yet another Voltron reboot, and it may be instructive to look back at a time in which Voltron conquered the hearts and minds of America through a wide variety of ancillary media.


The October 1985 issue of Scholastic's DYNAMITE thrilled 80s kids with Punky Brewster, the popular features "Bummers" and "Count Morbida", and of course this in-depth report on Voltron.





Kids could also enjoy Voltron via this "Galactic Activities" book of games, puzzles, and mazes, illustrated by the hand of Tony Tallarico whose work in the field of media tie-in comics has been examined at length by qualified researchers. 









Kids could also enhance their reading skills by reading along with the cassette tape adventures of Voltron as they faced Lotor's Secret Weapon, which probably was the conditioner he used on his majestic, flowing, luxurious mane of hair.





Kids could also enjoy educational play activity with the many Voltron toys produced by Panosh Place and by Matchbox.



You don't want to be the kid on the playground picked to be Pidge, believe me. Anyway, the unstoppable force of Voltron rolled across America demolishing everything it is path, indelibly impacting American pop culture, and leaving its spoor of abandoned metal-box Lion Force Series DVD tins in used DVD stores throughout the land.


Will the new Voltron series capture the hearts and minds and Christmas shopping lists of America as firmly as the old one did? Only time will tell, because sadly Dynamite Magazine isn't around any more to give us the skinny.  Meanwhile, here's a puzzle.



some notes from the meeting of the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club

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The following is a transcription of a recent assembly of one of the foremost Thunder Sub fan organizations, and is presented to the readers of Let's Anime as a public service in the hopes that this will further understanding of both Thunder Sub and the fans thereof.

(transcript begins)

Hello! Welcome to the biannual meeting of the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club. As you know, it's official - we are now the largest Thunder Sub fan organization in this part of the state! Captain Noah himself would be proud of your dedication. Now I'd like to bring our new members up to full cruising speed, so to speak. Thunder Sub– that's TWO WORDS, ladies and gentlemen – began as the Japanese animated TV series Space Carrier Blue Noah, back in 1979. In the midst of activity regarding another of his many animated productions involving outer space battleships, producer Yoshinobu Nishizaki somehow managed to find the time to inspire a handpicked team and start an entirely different voyage.



This wouldn't be Nishizaki's first undersea trip; as producer of the animated version of Tezuka's Triton Of The Sea, he'd learned a thing or two about getting wet. Springboarding from the sub-sea fantasy of second generation SF writer Hikari Tanaka, writers Hideaki Yamamoto (The Super Girl), playwright Seiji "La Seine No Hoshi" Matsuoka and future Pretty Cure scribe Takashi Yamada created an entirely new saga of a super-ship, mankind's last hope against an invading alien armada. With direction by Tomoharu Katsumata (My Youth In Arcadia) and veteran animation director Kenzo Koizumi – fresh from work on Grandizer, Mazinger Z vs Black General, and Daikengo– the Blue Noah was ready for launch.

It is the year 2052! When the far-away planet Gotham faced destruction via black hole, dictator Leader Zytel (or "Doctor Z" in English) ordered the construction of a gigantic colony vessel – the charmingly named "Terror Star" - to allow their civilization to escape. Using its gravity beams to decelerate from interstellar speeds, the Terror Star's insertion into Earth orbit wreaks havoc on our planet, and the Death Force air attacks just make things worse.



Fleeing earthquakes, tidal waves, and Death Force fighters, our hero young Shin Kusaka (Collins) follows the dying wishes of his scientist father and travels to the secret science base N1. Collins and his academy classmates find themselves on board the planet Earth's last hope, the super submarine Blue Noah (or as we know it, Thunder Sub), much to the surprise of the sub's skipper Captain Domon (Noah).

the valiant crew of Thunder Sub
Launched from a secret base, manned by an untried crew of recruits, equipped with an array of powerful weapons including the unstoppable, bow-mounted "Anti Proton Gun", the Blue Noah sets out on a journey through Earth's oceans, travelling from secret research facility to secret research facility, to find the device that will allow them to defeat the Death Force and their Terror Star!

Space Carrier Blue Noahwould air on NTV and TBS stations in Japan from October '79 until March of 1980, premiering with a special telefilm pilot. Largely ignored by Japanese audiences, it would vanish after 24 weeks. Ancillary merchandise would include model kits, soundtrack LPs, tie-in manga, a sweet "DX" toy and an Asahi Sonorama single; a mere trickle of merchandise compared to other, more popular shows that might have involved space battleships. But hey, we here at the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club will take whatever we can get!


Regardless of public indifference, select fans like ourselves were enthralled as all 27 episodes (the pilot was cut three ways for syndication) intrigued us with the deadly rivalry between Colonel Lupus and the Thunder Sub and revealed the secret relationship between Captain Noah and default love interest Anna. We thrilled to the guerilla war waged across a ruined Earth and we shuddered to learn of Gotham's plan to install gravity converters at the poles and make Earth uninhabitable for us humans.

Western-World TV and Lionheart documentary evidence

Without worldwide syndication, the show would merely be an even more obscure footnote. Fortunately, a global thirst for cartoon programming would bring Thunder Sub to us. In the mid 1980s Nishizaki's Office Academy cut a syndication deal for Blue Noah with Western-World Television, noted for their David Warner-Carrie Fisher Frankenstein telefilm and co-producing the British nuclear-war gloom-drama Threads. If you caught the BBC's classic Dr. Who on American public television at the time, you might recognize Thunder Sub's distributor – Lionheart Television, of which Western-World owned a good chunk. Thunder Sub's TV broadcast credits don't list a dub cast, but sharp-eared viewers familiar with the TNT's 1990s airing of tokusatsu classic Ultra Sevenmight recognize the same voice actors in Thunder Sub, leading us to conclude Blue Noah's localization was executed by the same outfit – Montreal based Cinar. Thunder Sub's competent English cast handled the show's complex science-fictional concepts magnificently, with only a few missteps along the way (identifying Japan as "Hawaii" on a world map shows somebody wasn't doing their geography homework).

"N1" - that's not Hawaii, folks

Thunder Sub would air in a few US markets, including Atlanta's WATL 36. A compilation of the first 3 episodes would also get a UK home video release. Thunder Subwas also shown in Italy, Spain, Sweden, Russia, and the Arabic nations, but after a few seasons the show would sadly vanish, leaving nothing but traces in industry publications and snippets saved to off-air VHS tape. Still, the fact that our Real Deal Thunder Sub Club exists proves the show meant something special to at least a few of us – those of us who gasped at the Death Force's heavy water plants destroying Earth's ecosystem, who thrilled as the evil Colonel Lupus's space fighters engaged the Thunder Sub in a sequence animated by the great Yoshinori Kanada, who clutched the arms of our living room sofas and nearly upset our Capri-Suns and our Fruit Roll-Ups as the Terror Star lurched out of control straight for Earth, with only the Thunder Sub standing in its way.

Kanada blows 'em up real good

Now, as members of the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club, we're fully aware of the haters who say Blue Noah is merely an imitation of another Yoshinobu Nishizaki-produced cartoon, Space Battleship Yamato. They claim the characters are Yamato retreads, the weapons and story arcs are similar, that even the music is close enough to Yamato's soundtrack to make the most casual viewer say "Wait a minute!" and "Oh, come on!" and "Holy jeez, what a rip off!" We here at the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club have heard it all. And our reply is a polite no sir, we beg to differ; Blue Noah is NOT a rip off – Blue Noah is a blatant Yamato cash-in, an undersea exploitation vehicle steaming through a victory lap for Nishizaki, as he grabs whatever market share was left lying on the table, filling a timeslot left blank after Yamato 2 ended, keeping the advertisers happy and his Office Academy office gainfully employed.

We here at the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club think of Thunder Sub and Space Battleship Yamato as two great shows that happen to share a few elements. That is our position, and if you don't like it, there's the door. Just kidding! That door is locked.

any similarities between Thunder Sub and Space Battleship Yamato are purely coincidental

Even the angriest Yamatofans have to acknowledge vast differences between the two shows. Thunder Sub doesn't feature a kooky male ship's doctor – Thunder Sub's doctor is a woman! There isn't a cat on board the ship – there's a dog! And sure, both shows have young female leads whose main job is to look worried, but Thunder Sub dismisses entirely the Space Battleship Yamato concept of ethereal space goddesses. No cosmic mystery forces in Thunder Sub!

Thunder Sub's doctor inspects the troops 

Even the evil leader of the Death Force over there on the Terror Star, well, he's not a retread of Yamato's Leader Desslar. No, Thunder Sub's enemy commander is a real doctor, with a PhD in taking over planets, building Terror Stars, and blasting his entire culture across light years to conquer the Earth and secretly repopulate it with his own specially-bred master race of Doctor Z clones! And let me tell you when the Death Force rank and file find out, they aren't happy about it!

subordinate, Lupus, Doctor Z

In fact, the climax of Thunder Sub takes a sharp turn away from typical Space Battleship Yamato planet-exploding heroic sacrifice cliche just at the last minute! Not to spoil things for those of you in club who haven't yet achieved Full Real Deal Thunder Sub Real Dealness, but it turns out planet Earth is saved by the Death Force itself! That's a twist Yamato would never allow itself to take, and one more in the "win" column for Thunder Sub!

the Death Force and their Death Hats
But let's be fair. Frequently the animation is wonky in that very 1980 sub-contracted, barely moving, get-it-done-already way. And the kind of outer-space romanticism that Space Battleship Yamato did so well, the melancholy cosmic queens marooned on dead planets, universal love saving the galaxy, that sort of thing, well, that sort of thing is completely absent. Thunder Sub is much more invested in dressing its characters in sensible dungarees and making sure the audience knows how sonar can reflect off of differing temperature layers or clouds of plankton. If you've ever wondered what Yamato would have been like if Nishizaki hadn't joined forces with Leiji Matsumoto, Thunder Sub is the answer; gadget-heavy space checklists of moving from point N1 to point N2 to point N3 with faces set in grim determination, while the music swells in a just-this-side-of-actionable way.


And ultimately I think that's what led to Blue Noah / Thunder Sub's 'blink-and-you'll-miss-it' performance on the world's TV screens. Viewers had been there and done that. As impressive as a flying submarine with an Anti-Proton Gun is, it can't match a romantic universe filled with space goddesses in diaphanous robes. Even though we here at the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club are as Real Deal as any Thunder Sub fans can be, we still have to face facts bravely, just as Captain Noah and Collins would do if they were here, and if they were real.



But take heart; the world has not abandoned Thunder Sub. Fans around the globe keep the show alive with fan sites, releases of its various national iterations on DVD, and by making their carefully hoarded off-air tapings available for all on YouTube. Even Yoshinobu Nishizaki himself didn't forget his orphaned space submarine, prominently naming an Earth flagship "Blue Noah" in his 2009 feature Space Battleship Yamato Resurrection.

somebody out there remembers us


In spite of all the haters and the larger forces of widespread public indifference, Thunder Sub is a show that refuses to go away, and that's just how we here at the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club like it. And now gentlemen, to business! Namely, an update in our never ending struggle with our cross-town rivals, those losers in the so-called Ultimate Thunder Sub Fan Crew! Here to report is our Secretary-Treasurer, who will... (transcript ends)


The Real Deal Thunder Sub Club is a select group of Thunder Sub fans. Membership is strictly limited to those who publicly demonstrate True Thunder Sub Real Dealness through a variety of methods. In fact, you may already be a member and not even know it. Do not attempt to contact the Real Deal Thunder Sub Club; they will find you.

what I did on my vacation '16

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Summer's just about over and that means it's time to look back and reflect on what you did on your time off. Where did you go? What did you do? And how long will you be paying the credit card companies back for it all?

Well even though this year we didn't visit Tokyo, we did get to experience enough classic Japanese cartoon goodness to realize that one doesn't have to cross the Pacific to find old-school anime.  On our trip through upstate New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Quebec, we found them bug-eyed Japanheeno cartoons peeking out at us around every corner, seemed like.

As a French-speaking province linguistically tied to a nation that spent the 1970s and 1980s watching as many Japanese cartoons their PAL television system could cram onto the airwaves, Quebec was North America's go-to region for classic anime. And here in 2016 that's evident everywhere people of a certain age gather, especially in Montreal's hip burger joint La Belle et la Boeuf, where not only can you consume a giant burger named after UFO Robo Grandizer, but you can wash your hands under the protective gaze of Captain Harlock for men and Candy Candy for the ladies.



Get up early the next morning and hit the antique malls, where a selection of Albator (Captain Harlock) and Goldorak (Grandizer) merchandise awaits you! The Goldorak stuff was overpriced IMHO ($10 for a scratched up 45 single of the French theme song, no thanks) but the Albator BD (that's "bandes dessinees", or comic books) were a bargain at twice the price. 


 The fascinating thing about these French Harlock comics is that they took terrific liberties with the original source material, sometimes adapting television stories wholesale, and sometimes going off in crazy new directions involving characters from completely different Japanese anime series.


(and yes I'm aware that Matsumoto shoe-horned Harlock into his Yamato manga. A giant ghost Captain Okita, not so much)

While in Massachusetts, you should definitely visit The Outer Limits in Waltham, a great comic book store with lots and lots of comic books of all kinds, as well as an interesting selection of toys & stuff from the 70s & 80s era of Japanese cartoons. You should also take a trip through Lexington, site of a pivotal scene in American history, and also a place where an auto dealership uses Astro Boy to advertise their excellent service department. No, seriously.

I wouldn't kid about something like this
When visiting New England you owe it to yourself to visit the Fun Spot in Weirs Beach New Hampshire. Not only can you play skee-ball, immerse yourself in the largest selection of working classic arcade games under one roof in the Western hemisphere, and roll your eyes at the Objectivist lecturing thoughtfully provided by the management, you can also revisit your first exposure to Lupin III in the form of the laser disc video game Cliff Hanger.


Yes, it works, and yes, the game play is just as mechanical and unsatisfying as you remember. But hey, game play is still a quarter just like it was in the 80s! Pile up a stack of tokens and play your way through the ninjas and gather a crowd of awestruck 12 year olds around you!

Next on our journey we crossed over into Vermont, where we visited Quechee Gorge, a beautiful spot of natural wonder located providentially next to an antique mall. Antique Malls are surprisingly fruitful locations to find bits of Japanese pop culture hiding among the fake tin reproduction signage and the plastic M&M figures that ARE NOT ANTIQUES, and Quechee is no exception.



Here we see celebrity anime translator Neil Nadelman modelling a lithograph of the Speed Racer cast signed by Peter Fernandez and Corinne Orr. Like the helpful post-it says on the back, "they do the voices." And they do!  When visiting Quechee, head upstairs to their Toy Museum and prepare for your eyes to bug out and your jaw to drop at all the awesome, awesome toys they have on display that you cannot ever play with, ever.


Then you'll want to head over to Rutland Vermont, filming location of the amazing sci-fi drama Time Chasers. If you've ever wanted to learn Japanese, well, you probably own books published by the Charles Tuttle Company of Rutland. Well Charles Tuttle was a real person and he really lived in Rutland and he had his own building right downtown!


Then, and only then, may you visit the local thrift store and freely avail yourself of the 5-for-$1 VHS tapes.


And that was our vacation. Well, okay, it wasn't all ferreting out silly cartoon nonsense. We saw a bunch of friends and ate terrific meals and got some beach time in and even did a little paddling on one of New England's more picturesque lakes. For YOUR next vacation, why not consider the Quebec-Vermont-New Hampshire-Massachusetts region?


Anime Weekend Atlanta 2016

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Yessir, it's time once again for Atlanta to bestir itself down to the Cobb Galleria Center, and the Waverly, and what soon will be the new Braves stadium, and gird its loins for the 22nd annual Anime Weekend Atlanta! What started out in 1995 as a gathering of a few hundred die-hard Japanese cartoon nerds has become the Southeast's pre-eminent gathering of twenty thousand die-hard Japanese cartoon nerds. And as one of the founding members of this august body of Japanese cartoon nerds, I'll be front and center delivering the kind of unprofessional yet self-important scholarship that anime fandom would be lost without.



You want to make sure you're there on Thursday to pick up your badge in time to visit the Super Happy Fun Sell, a yard-sale swap-meet of fans feverishly selling their previously loved used anime merchandise to wide-eyed bargain hunters. We sold out every table this year so it's gonna be crazy in there!!

Then on Friday you don't wanna miss the opening ceremonies because I might clock you in the eyeball with some Dubble Bubble gum from my sniper's next onstage in the glare of the spotlights, opening yet another AWA with a firestorm of candy.  Stay close to the main stage because at 4pm that's where anime translator extraordinaire Neil Nadelman presents his world-famous Totally Lame Anime!


Remember, if that pond's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin! Afterwards you might want to hit the dealers room or watch some anime or see some guests or snap some cosplay pix, but stick around because at 10pm I drag AWA back down to Anime Hell!


It's two hours of confusing ambiences and ill-timed shorts, mixed with crazy ads, old safety films, that rock music the kids seem to like, and Galaxy Goof-Ups aplenty. And then stick around because midnight is time for Midnight Madness!


Yes, the famous parody dub celebration returns with all your favorite cartoon characters mouthing swears. It's a riot and guaranteed to make you laugh til your guts bleed, as the teeners say.

Saturday morning you're gonna wanna get up bright and early, though, because it's time to find out all about the Craziest Anime You Never Saw!

The Kennesaw room will be the scene of enlightenment as Americans learn of amazingly weird cartoons that not only were never imported into the United States, but will NEVER be imported into the United States, and I make this bold and definite statement in the fervent hopes that somebody out there proves me wrong. I dare you to release these cartoons. I double-dare ya. Anybody?

Stick around Saturday night and make some new pals at the AWA Mixer! Yes, it's a place for the grownups to meet and greet and have grownup conversation about real estate, insurance, retirement plans, and transforming super robots and idol singers. There's a cash bar and plenty of friends you haven't met yet, so be there! Mention Let's Anime and I might get you into the secret after party.



Sunday afternoon it's time to relax a little, let your inhibitions down a bit, and slide into the Hot Tub Anime Club Time Machine! Let those bubbles take you back to the early days of anime fandom where we'll find out exactly what these proto-otaku were watching and how they were watching it, and with whom.


And then, before you know it, another AWA fades into the distance in our rear-view mirror!  It's gonna be a super blast and you GOTTA be there. Find out all about how and when and where  - here!

gravity sabers at 10 parsecs: Queen Emeraldas

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If you're familiar with Leiji Matsumoto's Captain Harlock or Galaxy Express 999, you're likely familiar with Emeraldas, the lady cosmo-pirate with the giant space blimp who's prone to surprise appearances whenever plots need advancing or machine planets need blowing up. Here in Kodansha's Queen Emeraldas Vol. 1, space-fantasy manga fans here in the West are finally able to enjoy her solo adventures; and rest easy, Leijiverse fans, Matsumoto's signature style of sci-fi romanticism is in full mid 1970s effect here, a handwavey future-fantasy idiom where SF motifs mix freely with Wild West tropes and the high-tech trappings of gravity waves and space drives serve only to highlight the greater struggles of the human spirit as Emeraldas haunts the spacelanes, a mystery woman with little patience for fools or cowards.



Queen Emeraldas appeared in Weekly Shonen during what must have been one of Matsumoto's busiest periods, 1978-'79. Smack dab in the middle of helping promote the Yamato boom, Leiji was also producing Danguard Ace for Adventure King, the Galaxy Express 999 manga in Shonen King, and Captain Harlock for Akita Shoten's Play Comic. Queen Emeraldas is 100% Matsumoto; the flowing scarves and cloaks and hair, the vast sky/starscapes, and the stately panels filled with elaborate space machinery covered in meaningless dials all let the reader know exactly whose comics he's reading. Manga is thought of as filmic, kinetic and fast-paced, but Matsumoto's work is a different kind of cinematic, slow and contemplative, and Queen Emeraldas is no exception, filled with long shots of windswept asteroids, double-page spreads of deep space, and tableaus heavy with impending doom.



Matsumoto's atmospheric, engaging, all-natural brush line picks out every board on dilapidated Martian towns and every swirl of dust in the thin atmosphere, and his cartoonish, exaggerated characters contrast nicely with the slick mechanical renderings (perhaps courtesy Matsumoto assistant Kaoru 'Area 88' Shintani) of vehicles, weapons, space stations, futuristic cities, and the other super-constructions they utilize or inhabit. Emeraldas and other characters loom in and out of rich, inky darkness, visible in the light of endless rows of analog dials and meters and screens set against highly polished fittings. There's been a lot of animation based on Matsumoto's work, but what we see on the TV never quite seems to capture the cold metallic elegance of his manga-style brand of outer space.

Queen Emeraldas opens as young Hiroshi Umino's patchwork spaceship augers into the rock of Martian satellite Deimos, a signature Matsumoto western-frontier space boomtown. Stranded with nothing but his pride, young Umino's True Grit touches the heart of Emeraldas, who is introduced to the reader in awestruck tones cut short as grizzled barflies shut their pieholes rather than offend the mysterious bounty hunter. Stubborn Hiroshi would die before accepting help, but help he gets anyway, and soon he's odd-jobbing his way across an unfriendly solar system where the harsh code of the West – I mean, Space – is superseded by the harsher laws of gravitational physics. Want a meditative spaghetti-western gunfight set in a spaceship's control room? Well, why not. No point in mixing genres halfheartedly.

Hiroshi's poverty, potato-head physique, and casual betrayal by beautiful women bear strong parallels to the adventures of another Matsumoto manga star, Ooyama of "Otoko Oidon", the poor but proud wandering-ronin college student trying to make good on his vow to make it on his own in the big city. Or outer space, as is the case here. Eschewing help from others, Hiroshi swears to build his dream spaceship by himself; a libertarian fantasy if ever there was one, considering the vast teams of engineers and scientists required to put even the smallest satellite into the most temporary Earth orbit. At least here the text throws us a reference or two to 'construction droids,' a step up from Tochiro Oyama's bespoke hand-built space battleship seen in 1982's "My Youth In Arcadia."

Matsumoto's iconic characters might perhaps be best used sparingly, as a dash of inspiring color at the edges of more direct narratives involving people who actually have things to do, and here in her own book Emeraldas is no exception. At times she almost assumes the maternal Maetel role as she watches Hiroshi's struggle from afar, only occasionally dropping in to shoot someone or make financial arrangements, or sometimes both. Emeraldas comes close to being a secondary character in her own comic, but she takes center stage when necessary to give us glimpses of her own backstory. She too fled to outer space but made it further than Hiroshi did, all the way to the planet Jura in the Ammonite solar system (that's where Harlock's Miimay is from, kinda), and we see how she receives her amazing spaceship Queen Emeraldas and how she is taught the inflexible law of survival in outer space, which involves the unbreakable rule to never ever show mercy to your enemies or allow the guilty to escape punishment no matter the cost.

Emeraldas as star of her own Galaxy Express 999 special
We'll travel to the Sargasso Of Space – every pulp SF series has a Sargasso Of Space – and see her kickstart a revolt on a planet where the non-beautiful are imprisoned, and we'll see Hiroshi labor in the mines of Ganymede and the run down frontier towns littering the badlands of the solar system. All the while we'll be lectured about what it means to be a man, about how much mercy to show our enemies (spoiler: none), and of the greatness of making our own way in the universe. Characters major and minor emote at length on flying freely without let or hindrance in their own space ships, but we're never told what it is about outer space that makes them want to go there so badly. Hiroshi Umino, and to a certain extent Emeraldas herself, aren't interested in marveling at the awesome spectacle of the universe. They aren't on a quest to save the Earth or find a space treasure or solve a space mystery. The reader looks hopefully for a plot development that at least pretends to matter to society as a whole, but our heroes are steadfast in their earnest desire to simply tool around the universe riding their machines without being hassled by "the man."

Filled with characters taking extreme positions on focus-tested shonen manga ideals, sometimes these stories resemble a more lyrical version of Steve Ditko's "Mister A." However, the aggressive self-reliance of the characters is subverted by the text; for every proud declamatory speech about doing it yourself by your own bootstraps, there's a helping hand behind the scenes keeping Hiroshi (and occasionally Emeraldas) afloat. Maybe it really does take a village to launch a spaceship. Ending as it does with Emeraldas encountering a huge armada of perhaps village-launched spaceships that may be able to help her on her enigmatic quest, we can only wait for Volume 2 to witness the culmination of all this interstellar self-actualization.

Kodansha's Queen Emeraldas vol. 1 is a classy, heavy hardback printed on nice paper, a professional package representative of comics today, which is to say, $30 books rather than $3 pamphlets. It's an impressive format with the downside of limiting exactly how many comics the average reader can bring home in a month – both the arm muscles and the pocketbook give out after a few of these things. I do feel with the $25 price point ($32 in Canada) they could throw in a few interior color pages, but that's me. Emeraldas has a beautifully printed hard cover and well-bound interior stock that justifies the sticker price and holds up nicely to the enormous swaths of inky space blackness haunting every other page. Zack Davisson's translation manages to throw in an Oscar Wilde quote and never gets lost in Queen Emeraldas' storm of SF adjectives, giving the reader both the cold formality of Emeraldas's dialogue and the seedy slang of hard-bitten spacemen and derelict space-drunks.


Classic Showa-era Matsumoto manga is thin on the ground this side of the Pacific; the arrival of Kodansha's Queen Emeraldas is like welcoming a long-lost cousin who should have been here a lot earlier, warranting both "at last" and "it's about time." A manga creator as prolific and as influential as Leiji Matsumoto deserves more representation in the bookstores of America; if they can handle endless volumes of One Piece, Dragonball, and Naruto, they can surely deal with an Emeraldas or two. I look forward to continuing the journey of Hiroshi Umino and Queen Emeraldas, wherever in space they take us.


Prince Planet At Fifty

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Fifty years ago a Japanese candy company, a Tokyo cartoon studio, an American production outfit, a future biker-movie star, and TV stations across America would join forces to bring us adventures that crossed the boundaries of time and space and bent both logic and common sense. Soon these stories would vanish from television, living on only as fuzzy memories and fuzzier bootleg VHS tapes, returning only with the advent of streaming video and digital broadcast television.

Join us, won't you, as we take a look at fifty years in the life of Prince Planet.




1939: future Yusei Shonen Papi manga artist Hideoki Inoue is born in Hokkaido. He will enter the manga field as an assistant to Osamu Tezuka, and his professional manga debut will be at age 20 with the feature "TV Boy" in the magazine "Omoshiroi Book."

September 4, 1963– Tokyo-based animation studio TCJ’s first anime series Sennin Buraku premieres late on a Wednesday night. Sennin Buraku is based on the Edo-period gag manga by Ko Kojima which has been continuously published since 1956.

Space Patrol Hopper
October 20, 1963– TCJ’s animated Tetsujin-28 series airs on Fuji-TV. Based on the Shonen Magazine manga by Mitsuteru Yokoyama, Tetsujin-28 is the first giant robot anime and will later be localized as Gigantor and syndicated across America by Trans-Lux.

November 1964- Hideoki Inoue illustrates Space Patrol Hopper manga for Bokura Magazine. Space Patrol Hopper will be a Toei Animation TV series from February to November, 1965.

1965-"Yoshikura Shouichirou"– a pseudonym for Higake Takeichi, Okura Sato, Yamamura Masao, Kano Ichiro, and Futaba Juzaburo – create Yusei Shonen Papi for TCJ, with financing by Japan's top ad agency Dentsu and data gathered from a survey of 10,000 Japanese boys and girls. Using a combination pen name as creator of an anime series will also be a hallmark of Toei ("Saburo Yatsude") and Nippon Sunrise ("Hajime Yatate") productions. Yusei Shonen Papi manga will first appear in Kobunsha's Shonen in November 1964, drawn by Hideoki Inoue, and the TCJ-produced animation will premiere in June of 1965. Sponsor Glico will market a full line of Yusei Shonen Papi tie-in candy and merchandise.

Papi and Riko-chan
June 3, 1965- after a galactic council chooses to help the people of Earth, the advanced civilization of the hidden tenth planet Clifton sends a young member of the Galactic Peace Force named Papi to Earth to defend peace and justice. A genius with an IQ of over 300, Papi is able to utilize the mysterious Metalyzer, a pendant powered by a generator on Clifton that allows Papi to change the molecular structure of any object, as well as fly, perform feats of strength, survive underwater and in outer space, emit destructive rays, and do anything else the script requires. Every 168 hours (one Earth week) new energy is sent from Clifton to power the Metalyzer. En route to Earth, Papi's ship is struck by asteroids, and aware of the danger, Papi requests that HQ on Clifton erase part of his memory so he won't be tempted to return and abandon his mission. The damage to his ship results in a crash on Earth and Papi's memory is almost totally erased. Landing on Riko-chan's family farm, he remembers enough of the Metalizer to chase oil-speculating gangsters away. Soon Papi is joined by new friends Strong the wrestler and Ajababa the Arabian wizard. He'll spend the next 52 episodes battling crime and robots, armies and monsters, flying saucers and space demons. After a year on Earth Papi is recalled to Clifton, and must say farewell to all his friends on Earth. Yusei Shonen Papi will be broadcast on Japanese television and released on VHS and DVD in Japan.

Ajababa and Strong
June 3, 1965– Yusei Shonen Papi premieres on Fuji TV at 7pm, and will air 52 episodes until May 27, 1966. It will be replaced in its Thursday time slot by the live-action Kokusaihoei adventure series Phantom Agents, created by Tatsuo Yoshida, while Papi moved to 7pm Fridays. When Papi ends, its replacement will be TCJ animated series Yusei Kamen ("Asteroid Mask"). Both Yusei Shonen Papi and Phantom Agents will be packaged for overseas license by Kazuhiko Fujita and his K. Fujita Associates. K. Fujita will be instrumental in the early days of Japanese TV animation for his work securing financing from advertising agencies for Japanese animation (as he did with Dentsu and Yusei Shonen Papi), as well as licensing Japanese cartoons for export. K. Fujita’s other series include Gigantor, Eighth Man, Marine Boy, Speed Racer, and films like Terror Beneath The Sea.

the mark of K. Fujita
1966- Copri International Films, a Miami-based dubbing house partially owned by a former Havana casino manager with ties to mob boss Meyer Lansky, hires Florida actress Catherine "Bobbie" Byers to voice the character of Prince Planet. Other cast members include Kurt Nagel as Aja Baba and future "Santa Claus" actor Jeff Gillen as Pop Worthy. English-language scripts for Prince Planet will be written by Reuben "Ruby" Guberman, erstwhile screenwriter for Florida trash-film king K. Gordon Murray. Copri also dubbed TCJ series Eighth Man, and did Spanish-language work for many clients including the CIA.

AIP trade periodical advertisement for Prince Planet and other series

1964-1966-Yusei Shonen Papi manga by Hideoki Inoue is published in Kobunsha's weekly Shonen magazine, along with Mitsuteru Yokoyama’s Tetsujin-28, Osamu Tezuka’s Tetsuwan Atomu, Hisashi Sekiya's Stop! Nii-chan, and Fujio Akatsuka’s Leave It To Chiyota.

Yusei Shonen Papi manga in Kobunsha's Shonen

1965-66 – children across Japan enjoy both Yusei Shonen Papi on TV and the many Glico candies and candy premiums produced in conjunction with the series. Papi is featured on Papi gum, Papi chocolate, Papi stamps, Papi yo-yos, Papi whistles, Papi biscuits, Papi lenticular moving pictures, Papi finger puppets, Papi boomerangs, Papi bubble gum, Papi parachutes, Papi balancing toys, and what may be the most complex cartoon-character candy premium ever, the Papi Panoramascope. Riko gets her own line of candy and toys marketed at girls, with Riko hair charms and Riko pendants and a replica of Riko's ladybug ring. Glico even produced replicas of Papi's Metalyzer and a Papi costume sized for children. American kids got none of this, and we still feel kind of cheated. Glico's chocolate pretzel snack Pocky will, however, make great inroads into the North American snack food market.

a few Glico Yusei Shonen Papi products
Riko-chan toys are for girls only


June 10 1965- Television wrestler Strong is unable to control his immense strength, and loses his TV wrestling job. Forced into a life of crime, he is given a second chance by Yusei Shonen Papi, and aids Papi in his fight for justice (episode 2, "The Strength of Strong")

Strong is strong
June 17 1965– Prince Planet's enemy, the Martian magician Warlock, first appears (as Kiritobi) in episode #3 of Yusei Shonen Papi ("Ultra Ninja Kiritobi")

Kiritobi the Ultra Ninja & Master Of Martian Mischief 

July 1 1965– the Octopus Gang, led by Madame Whiplash, uses flying robot jellyfish to execute mid-air hijackings of jet airplanes carrying gold bullion (episode 5, “The Flying Jellyfish”)

more Papi toys

December 23 1965– the Master Of Misery, Krag of Kragmire (aka Golem) makes his entrance in episode 30 of Yusei Shonen Papi, and will menace Prince Planet throughout the remainder of the series with his bat wings, his funeral director's demeanor, and his saw-blade pocket watch.

the evil Krag, or Golem if you prefer
February 18 1966– Riko finds a pair of gloves that she believes renders her immune to harm, forcing Papi to spend the rest of the episode protecting her from the harm she knowingly exposes herself to (episode 38, "The Magic Gloves").

Riko-chan in Paris

1966- the Planet Radion sends young Universal Peace Corps member Prince Planet to Earth to defend decency and justice. Using his Pendant of Power, Prince Planet can change the molecular structure of objects, fire powerful rays, and is given flight and super strength. Crash landing on the ranch of "Pop" Worthy, he is befriended by Worthy's daughter Diana. Soon he meets out-of-work studio wrestler Dan Dynamo, Ajababa the wizard from Abadon, and occasional supporting character Kevin Kirby, who is both a hydro-electric power station engineer and Diana’s uncle. Together they face crime and robots, gangsters and space aliens, invading armies and destructive plants. After a year on Earth, Prince Planet leaves his new friends and returns to Radion. From 1966 until the mid 1970s, Prince Planet will be seen on American syndicated UHF television and will also become a popular series in Australia. The series is never released on licensed home video in North America. MGM will make the Prince Planet series available on streaming video and digital TV in the 2000s.

the "Papy Stamp"

1965-66– the Galactic Peace Force chooses perhaps the laziest, most forgetful officer on Clifton to be responsible for ensuring Papi’s Metalyzer is fully charged. Rest assured whenever Papi’s in trouble and needs a fresh burst of Metalyzer recharging, this doofus will be asleep at the literal switch.

those idiots on Radion
1966– the Carol Lombard Singers perform the theme song to Prince Planet. Carol Lombard worked with legends like Frank Sinatra, Sam Cooke, and Elvis Presley, and her singing group also did the theme to Flipper and many AIP musicals produced by Prince Planet musical director Al Simms.

May 20 1966- Kiritobi (Warlock) is destroyed in a fierce battle with Ajababa (episode 51, "Ajababa's Grandchildren")

May 27 1966- Golem (Krag) is finally defeated in battle with Yusei Shonen Papi, and Papi returns to his home planet, leaving behind all his Earth friends, in the final episode of Prince Planet, "Distant Home Planet."

1967- Prince Planet voice actor Bobbie Byers stars as Linda, "too much woman for any one man", in the 1967 Crown International biker film Wild Rebels, directed by Florida auteur filmmaker William "Death Curse Of Tartu" Grefe, who would later direct William Shatner in Impulse.

Wild Rebels star Bobbie Byers

1968– Manga artist Hideoki Inoue spends his Yusei Shonen Papi profits on high living and entertainment, and is soon broke and in trouble for nonpayment of taxes. His post-Papi work includes licensed character manga based on Ultraman, Ultra Seven, Ultra Q, and Thunderbirds, as well as non-licensed manga series Thunder Seven, Crazy Planet, and Dogma 3.

Inoue's Thunderbirds and Thunder Seven

1968– Prince Planet voice actor Bobbie Byers stars in the motorcycle gang movie Savages From Hell (aka "Big Enough 'n Old Enough"), also starring Sidney Poitier's brother Cyril. The film is directed by Joseph P. Mawra, who also directed "Chained Girls" and "Shanty Tramp", the latter screenwritten by Prince Planet writer Ruben Guberman.

Savages From Hell

1973- Future Let’s Anime blogger Dave Merrill watches Prince Planet for the first time on Chicago's WSNS Channel 44. The program is hosted by ventriloquist Steve Hart and sponsored by KAYO Chocolate Drink. The memories of Prince Planet will spark a lifelong interest in Japanese animation for Merrill and many others.




1977– the first national Japanese fan group, the Cartoon Fantasy Organization or C/FO, begins in Los Angeles California. Eventually it will have chapters in most major American cities, including Atlanta.

1985– future Let’s Anime writer Dave Merrill helps found a C/FO chapter in Atlanta GA and assists in hosting regular screenings of old and new Japanese animation in libraries, community centers, comic book and SF conventions, and anywhere else with a TV and a VCR.

August 1986- Yusei Shonen Papi manga artist Hideoki Inoue passes away in his apartment in Japan. He had avoided payment of income tax on his Yusei Shonen Papi profits, which by now had all been squandered. Estranged from his wife and family, Inoue died alone.


1986- Membership in the C/FO facilitates contact with anime fans across the country, some of whom have Prince Planet episodes and are willing to trade. Tape trading with C/FO members allows many, including this author, to see Prince Planet again for the first time in 13 years.

Prince Planet Foundation promotional mailing

1988- The national C/FO self-destructs, the local anime club becomes a chore, and future Let’s Anime blogger Dave Merrill decides to concentrate on his core interests, the Japanese cartoons of the 1960s. He will start an organization called the Prince Planet Foundation, in an attempt to gather together 60s anime fans. The Prince Planet Foundation will publish a newsletter, “Ten Thousand Gigantors”, featuring articles and fan artwork and fiction, and will connect fans of classic anime across America.

cartoon by Prince Planet Foundation member Meg Evans
1993- the print version of Let’s Anime publishes an extensive article about Prince Planet.

Let's Anime #4, artwork by Paul Young

1995- The new digital technology of “the internet” results in Prince Planet Foundation founder David Merrill receiving plaintive emails from total strangers, asking if there was any way they could ever see this cartoon they grew up with. Merrill spends the next few years copying Prince Planet episodes for total strangers.



October 1995 - The Japanese animation festival Anime Weekend Atlanta holds its first annual convention, and the badges for staff and attendees feature YSP/Prince Planet artwork designed by convention graphics specialist CB Smith.

AWA director's badge

1999- Enough is enough, says Prince Planet Foundation organizer Dave Merrill. He stops responding to queries about Prince Planet episodes.

July 2007 - Classic anime blog Let’s Anime begins online publication.

November 2009 – MGM announces more than 45 episodes of Prince Planet will be made available on streaming video sites Hulu and YouTube. The 47 episodes available on YouTube will eventually vanish, but the Hulu access will remain for years.

November 2009 - Let's Anime readers participate in a Prince Planet art contest to celebrate the release of Prince Planet on Hulu and YouTube. The blog receives a lot of great artwork and everybody gets a T-shirt, courtesy MGM.

winners of the Prince Planet Fan Art contest

January 16 2012 – Let’s Anime posts the first of a 3-part English translation of Yusei Shonen Papi manga, partially scanned directly from a crumbling 1965 issue of Shonen Magazine.

February 18, 2012 –Manga Shop Series 445 is released, the first volume of collected Yusei Shonen Papi manga. This 288 page black and white digest-sized book collects the first half of the YSP manga as it appeared in Shonen Magazine, as well as reproductions of illustrations from the Asasi Sonorama Papi storybook single. Manga Shop Series 446 completes their YSP reprint.

Manga Shop 445 and 446
April 2014 - digital broadcast TV network The Works, a channel owned by MGM Television, begins airing Prince Planet as part of its schedule.

May 2014 - TGG Direct, Inc announces the release of Prince Planet on DVD in North America, and the DVD set is listed on Amazon. May comes and goes with no release, and the listing is removed from Amazon. Queries to TGG go unanswered.

November 2016 - Classic anime blog Let's Anime celebrates fifty years of Prince Planet with a celebratory blog post filled with information on both Yusei Shonen Papi and Prince Planet, which you are now reading. Will there be more excitement ahead for YSP/Prince Planet fans? Will Prince Planet return from Radion, or MGM’s vaults, to battle for truth and justice again? Only time will tell!


thanks to Meg Evans, James Sternberg, the people of Radion, MGM, Rick Zerrano, AIP-TV, and "Yoshikura Shouichirou" for their YSP/Prince Planet assistance. 



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