38. Akira (1988) - Dir: Katsuhiro Otomo
I don't know how many epiphanies I have had, probably quite a few. I wrote a song once called Epiphany #1, although I know it wasn't my first, and, as a matter of fact, I think I had one this morning on the bus while commuting to work. I took a Tums though, and it went away. Okay, so I just looked up "epiphany" in the dictionary, and it doesn't mean what I thought it did. Dang.
An epiphany can be defined as "a sudden intuitive leap of understanding, especially through an ordinary but striking occurrence (www.google.com, define:epiphany)". Understanding this, I now know that I can safely say I have had at least one. I have related this incident before, in a couple of earlier reviews, but it is worth repeating. Way back in 1988-89, I had a friend whose dad worked in the animation department at Marvel Comics. Now at this time, I thought I pretty much understood the medium of animation. I mean, I liked cartoons, and I had experienced a few that were quite amazing. However, one night at my friend's house, I indeed had an epiphany, and Akira was its name.
Yes, I thought I understood animation in all of its capacity, but alas I was wrong. When the film began (we watched it on laserdisc), my eyes were assaulted with images of Tokyo, pockmarked with a giant crater – World War III? The imagery soon transitioned into pure kinetic energy as the film showcased a dazzling display of light and movement, and one of the all time great motorcycle chase sequences. Never in my life had I seen such fluid animation, such gusto, and such amazing artistry. However, the moment that completely rattled my brain was when a bunch of soldiers with machine guns blew away this guy who was trying to smuggle some strange little gray kid away from them. I mean, holy crap, I could see the individual bullets hit his body, as swirls of blood and gore erupted from his torso, legs, and arms, followed by his mouth. This sequence was quickly followed by what I still consider to be a premier example of animation. The little gray kid, an ESPer, sends a shockwave-scream into the air and shatters the glass of the nearby buildings causing a sparkling rain of shards and smoke - this was not the animation that I thought I understood, no, this was something of a different beast.
During these “dark days of animation,” we had to watch these films with no sub-titles, and dang it, that's how we liked it – I don’t think the term “fan-sub” had even been coined yet. Stay. Off. My. Lawn. The first dozen or so times I watched Akira, I had no idea what was being said, but the story seeped into my psyche through some kind of animated osmosis. I knew the characters, their plight, and their desires, while the wonderment, conflict and angst of the narrative enveloped me. Back then, I didn't even know what a “Katsuhiro Otomo” was, or that he had directed this marvelous animated film. I did know one thing though - I needed more, and I needed it right then and there. It really is amazing to think of the profound, semi-life changing experience seeing this film had on my impressionable mind.
There are a few key elements that make Akira stand apart from the crowd of other feature length animated films. One is simply its technical merits. The entire feature was hand drawn, without the aid of computers, by a host of key animators, tweeners, background painters and designers, under the watchful eye of the creator himself. I believe this was the first time Otomo had worked on a feature length film, and he had been working on the manga version of the story for some time. Known as a perfectionist, Otomo paid close attention to every facet of the film during its creation. One detail that may not be readily apparent, but does add to the overall quality of the visuals, is the fact that no solid blacks were used for color in any part of the film. True black doesn't really exist in real life, and so the colorists used shades of black tinted with their surrounding colors to shadow and line the drawings.
Another aspect of importance is the narrative itself. The film’s script was adapted from Otomo’s own comic book version of the narrative. However, at the time of the film’s completion, the comic book had not been finished, and so the narrative of the film was altered. Many characters and plot threads from the book are condensed and excised, and the entire narrative is streamlined. This worked out well for the film - rather than having to adapt 1000's of pages of story into a two-hour film, Otomo was able to write the narrative so it would work in an altogether different medium. The story itself deals with very complex issues as it dives into politics, paranormal psychology, new age mumbo-jumbo, science fiction, post-apocalyptic ultra-violent action, and, typical to Japanese post-modernism, the destruction of society and the battle raged between youth cultures and The Establishment.
This theme of the young vs. the old is a common theme in most of Otomo's work, some might even say to a fault. Actually, one of Otomo's contemporaries, Mamoru Oshii, had this to say: "There is only one theme in all [of Otomo’s] films: the conflict between adults and children. It's an old Japanese theme: The child fights against society, fights against evil. Otomo's thinking is rather old." Whether or not you agree with Oshii’s accusations, one thing is apparent - Otomo's execution of his mono-theme is what matters, and, with Akira, the execution is nearly perfect. The set up is quite simple, as it shows two gangs, consisting of bikers and pill-poppers, fighting for territory and clashing with the authorities. However, this simple plot soon snowballs into a governmental conspiracy involving genetically engineered superhuman weapons, and the very nature of the universe itself. It effortlessly shifts from small and personal to epic and world shattering.
The final aspect is the music composed by Shoji Yamashiro and performed by his “band,” Geinoh Yamashirogumi. The compositions heard during the film are as memorable and timeless as any great film score, such as Star Wars, Superman or Once Upon a Time in the West. The pounding kettledrums, vocal work, expertly played percussive instrumentation, and the over all tone of every track perfectly captures the mood of the film and transcends the boundaries of mere film soundtrack. The a cappella “Duuuunnnn, Duuuuunnnn,” followed by the booming drums of the main themes continues to haunt long after the film is over. The marriage between site and sound on the film is constructed with the love that can only come from a great artist.
Akira is a film that has unfortunately reached the backlash stage on the Internet – but it is understandable. There are people getting into films today whose idea of “classic” Japanese animation is Spirited Away, or maybe they go back as far as Oshii’s Ghost in the Shell. I can understand how someone raised on more-modern animation, with all of its CGI and digital effects, might look at a film like Akira without the proper context, and without the knowledge of how far ahead of the curve it was, and in many ways still is. I still don’t think there has been an animated feature released since that has tackled a hardcore science fiction narrative with more panache and skill, and I think Akira still holds the record for the most hand drawn cels. However, beyond its technical achievements is a film that continues to be a measuring stick for the medium, and an example of animation that will surely be admired for decades to come.
