Recommended
Note: this review contains some spoilers beyond the premise but does not discuss conclusions of character or story arcs. It also refers to other works directed by Imagawa. Built to contribute to the Pacific War effort but only completed after the Japanese surrender, the titular robot in Tetsujin 28-go (2004) was left on an island, abandoned now that it was without purpose. Ten years later it is resurrected, but what place does it have in this new era of peace for Japan? More than just a plot device or action scene prop, the nature of the mecha itself is examined in this series: its reason forexistence (or lack thereof), especially as a metaphor for real world technology, and its relationship with both its controller and society. This and much more is explored in this adaptation of Mitsuteru Yokoyama's 1950s manga by renowned director Yasuhiro Imagawa.
I will be honest: coming into Imagawa's Tetsujin adaptation as the last of his mecha projects I viewed, my expectations were mixed. Though I had read some praise for it, it's also his least popular mecha series in the west by a decent margin. Can that be explained by the mere fact that Tetsujin 28-go's following is almost non-existent? Possibly. Lacking both the popularity of a franchise like Gundam or Mazinger Z, or the high budget epic allure of Giant Robo, that Tetsujin 28-go would slip through the cracks into obscurity is understandable. Nevertheless I thought that if it were truly great it would at least have a little more recognition. That seems to have been a mistake: this is certainly one of the finest mecha anime ever made, and debatably Imagawa's best work.
It's "debatably" mostly because I'll be the first to defend Giant Robo's greatness if it's brought into question, but also because if you are familiar with his works, he implements variety while sticking to common elements, making comparing them in the first place a bit of a pointless exercise. Giant Robo, G Gundam, and Shin Mazinger Z may all be mecha series with various stylistic intersections like martial arts but their goals, tone, scale, and more differ wildly from each other. The same is true for Tetsujin 28-go, which I'm inclined to say separates itself the furthest from any of the previous mentioned. Like the other mecha projects he wrote in addition to directing (all of them except for G Gundam), Imagawa is extremely ambitious here. It's not the ambition that led to the seamless blending of characters from multiple works into one bold epic narrative as with Giant Robo, nor the reminagining that centers events around a secondary antagonist from the source while attempting to cram as many plot twists as humanly possible into the story as with Shin Mazinger Z. What Imagawa is going for in Tetsujin 28-go, and I'm glad to say that he succeeds magnificently, is thematic focus. There are specific ideas here which he wants to explore, and does so extremely effectively. Though I can't say how much of it is taken directly from Yokoyama, having not read the manga (which isn't available in English at the moment), the auteurist aspects of the direction still solidify this adaptation as Imagawa's through and through.
There's a solid cast of characters here, but two of them deserve the most attention for their importance both narratively and thematically: Shotaro Kaneda, the boy detective and our protagonist who finds himself in charge of operating Tetsujin No. 28, and Kenji Murasame, the ex-intelligence officer.
Shotaro is born at the end of the war and, with no parents to guide him, must decide his own morals in this new "peaceful" post-occupation era. Fortunately for him, he has some help in the form of Police Chief Otsuka and Professor Shikishima. Kenji, meanwhile, has lived through it, lost friends and family, and during his experience developed a deep disdain for any and all weapons of war. Tetsujin is no exception, and early on his driving motivation is to destroy or otherwise rid Japan of it. But the story has other plans, and the same events that become instrumental to developing Shotaro's values simultaneously test Kenji's: the post-war era as experienced by both the youngest generation and its predecessor.
The series grounds its plot in real historical context, referencing events such as the Mitaka and Matsukawa trail derailment incidents of 1949, the space race, the Ueno zoo animal euthanizations, and of course the war itself. A recurring element of the series is that many of the antagonists Shotaro faces are normal people transformed by their involvement in these events: circumstances forced them to do bad and their lives were irreversibly changed as a result, and they find themselves incompatible with the new era defined by optimism and progress; emblematic of the maturity of the work is the fact that while it may take pity on them, the series never excuses their actions. The past in Tetsujin 28-go has an unavoidable influence on the present, whether it be good or bad, and through the eyes of Shotaro we learn about the nature of the society Yokoyama would have been experiencing firsthand and writing about - notions present on the role of technology and foreign influences in Japan at the time, as well as its place in the world post-war perhaps reflect real anxieties that were in the public consciousness - and we witness too the effects it has on our protagonist.
Despite the giant robots this is very much a noir series tonally, and in typical detective noir fashion there are revelations when it becomes clear that the nature of the situations Shotaro faces are more complex than first anticipated, and/or previously unknown information comes to light. These are handled with ample amounts of foreshadowing so while the reveals may be surprising they never come across as unjustified or out of left field. I said I don't like to draw comparisons but when it comes to this I can't help but comment on (and praise) the level of restraint here compared to the later Shin Mazinger Z.
The animation is never spectacular, but Imagawa's talent for shot composition is on full display here and with excellent background artists supporting him the series is always visually captivating (here is an album containing a few shots from the first episode, plus others from throughout the series that don't spoil anything: https://imgur.com/a/usbqxPi). The setting of 1950s Japan, rarely utilized in anime, provides the opportunity for equally unique locations: the industrial docks and factories, the tram-laden streets of Tokyo, the lower class settlements. Simplistic character designs faithful to the original manga as well as the use of the same opening theme from the 1963 anime give it a retro feel. Being an early digital series it's unfortunately stuck in standard resolution, but this is not a complaint I can hold against it.
The score is effective and well suited to the noir tone of the series, adding tension to scenes when needed and enhancing dramatic moments, with a few memorable recurring tracks. Supposedly David Bowie's song "Space Oddity" played during a certain scene in episode 11 during the anime's television broadcast but it was replaced on the home media releases, and that version isn't available to view anywhere. What a shame.
Without spoiling, the ending of the series provides a satisfying and extremely memorable conclusion to the themes it's been pondering since the first episode, as well as completing Shotaro's coming of age. This is one that will likely stick with the viewer for a good while after finishing, but then, I could say that about the series as a whole.
