Recommended
These boys knew what they were doing. Tokyo Crisis is formulated beautifully to the beats of The Castle of Cagliostro. Lupin seeks a mysterious treasure under the guard of a nefarious aristocrat; glorious chase scenes follow; an innocent damsel is tied up with the mystery; political pressure on the always-resolute Zenigata causes him to despair, yet he pursues his sense of duty outside the law; Fujiko seeks the treasure by her own means; Jigen and Goemon exist as running gags rather than as primary characters. One could accuse it of imitation, but the fate of a long-running franchise is to perpetually tell the same story.The key to keeping it interesting is not in total differentiation, but in the creativity of the action sequences and in the different ways one can play with the distinctive characters. After all, the audience is here for the love of the formula... and for the sheer cool factor.
G.K. Chesterton wrote in his first Father Brown mystery, “The criminal is the creative artist; the detective only the critic.” Indeed, what would Sherlock Holmes be without a meticulous crime to meticulously unravel? We admire Holmes—or Hercule Poirot, or Philip Marlowe, or Lieutenant Columbo for that matter—for his amazing, complex deductions; but the crime is the sole reason the deduction was either amazing or complex. This was the genius of Leblanc's original Arsene Lupin tales: the reader gets the thrilling creativity straight from the artist, rather than secondhand through the magnifying glass of the sleuth. Tokyo Crisis carries on Leblanc's tradition in its anime ways; fanciful gadgets, amusing disguises, and absurd acrobatics are its raison d'etre—excuse my French. The beauty of animation is that you can bring the most whimsical of schemes to life.
Tokyo Crisis has a primary focus on the beloved, bumbling, steadfast Inspector Zenigata. Though his obsession with capturing Lupin carries his relevance to the franchise, his true duty is to the honor and justice of law. The man of wholesome integrity might just seem like a foil to the crooked master thief, if not for their constant teaming up. Though Zenigata favors order and Lupin favors excitement, they both believe in objective justice. One puts aside his institutional loyalties and the other puts aside his debauchery in order to stop the truly dastardly doings from succeeding. However, Tokyo Crisis does end—with a little help from our friends—in the success of law enforcement over the corrupt antagonist. It's a breath of fresh air from recent titles' more cynical conclusions, and a pleasing little win for the frequently disappointed Zenigata.
When the perversions, political absurdities, plot holes, and convoluted intrigues of the current Lupin III seasons fatigue you; old specials have a way of recovering one's weary fandom. Tokyo Crisis is a joyful experience that exemplifies everything that makes the Lupin III franchise great. All Lupin fans need to watch it, and can absolutely use it as an introduction for Lupin newbies. Watching The Castle of Cagliostro and following it up with a mediocre anime episode can give the impression that Miyazaki is exceptional and the rest of the franchise is empty of value. Miyazaki certainly is exceptional, but Lupin and co. can do quite well for themselves without him. I'm ready to retract my claim that heroism no longer belongs in the franchise—you just need to do it right. What a lovely reminder that writers can do things right.
