Ani-Me #7: Going Back In Time With AKIRA (Rewatch) (Patreon)

Welcome to Ani-Me! The Series Where You Make Me Watch Anime! To be clear, you aren’t making me do anything because I have enjoyed every bit of this so far.

So! I’ve been slowly been slogging through a broken Cyberpunk 2077 and I’m writing a big thing on it (that isn’t about what a lot of other people are talking about) and given the game’s setting, my mind kept drifting to an old movie… That would be 1988’s AKIRA.

Now, I know the whole point of this series is to watch films I haven’t seen before, but the truth is that I haven’t watched this film in a long, long time. Hell, I had never even watched the film in its original language. And so with all this new context and understanding I now have in place, I decided I was long overdue for a proper rewatch…

Today’s Entry: AKIRA (1988)

This film came out when I was a kid and all I remember is that there were a few scattered folks who were really into it. My childhood friend Will was particularly obsessed and one day he insisted we sit down and watch his new VHS. I was still relatively young so it was one of those things that 1) totally blew my mind in some ways and yet 2) it completely freaked me out in a lot of ways as well. But please understand this was rare thing for a movie. I had seen soooo much rated R stuff before so it wasn’t like I was genuinely unnerved by violence or anything. It was more the specificity of the imagery, the distinction of the anime style, and ending body horror stuff that felt like it was burned into my brain. I don’t know what it was, there was just something about it that unnerved me. Meanwhile, my friend Will just thought everything about AKIRA was cool and would draw all the images and blood and guts and boobs and stuff. Granted, we were both young and in that phase and he was a super talented artist even then (and has become an even more talented artist and animator for his career!).

But that experience was part of the reason that, even in all the years that have passed, I just couldn’t help but associate the film itself with that youthful, juvenile sense of adoration of his… and also the fact it kinda freaked me out. And as I look back on that experience, I realize how much it colored my feelings about a lot of anime early on and the hesitance I had to dive into anime on the whole, perhaps? But as we all know, this leaves a whole lot of room for reevaluation. Because watching something way back then is not nearly the same thing as watch something as an adult… which brings us to the current rewatch.

It’s funny. There’s this thing that happens when you come late to a classic where you’re like “holy shit this is insanely good!” And people can be like “Duh, you are talking about one of the most influential films of the last forty years,” and you’re like, “yeah, but still! I’m finally catching up to that fact and this is all about meeeeeee-” Anyway, I recognize the danger of overdoing that, so the one thing I genuinely hope to offer you with these fresh eyes is the utter confirmation that AKIRA still feels incredibly vibrant and vital even today.

It would be so easy to focus on all the the popular iconography that it helped establish (and has been copied again and again). Because, yes, there is so much to love about the futuristic motorbikes and the brightly-lit designs of Neo Tokyo, but so much of its success lies in its brilliant aesthetic execution. Because it’s so, so well made and there are so many things that really hit me while rewatching. The flawless framing. The depth of certain images. The crispness of the edit. Every single cut feel so tight and part of this well orchestrated precision. The violence always feels sudden, shocking, and mercifully short. As graphic as it can be, it doesn’t dwell on anything because it never wants to rub your face in anything. Instead, it moves with quick assurance. And as you watch, every shot has this really specific, unique viewpoint. It’s honestly one of the things I love about animation. It’s not just trying to get in there and mimic the act of shooting coverage. It’s going to go where cameras can’t, but always to a purpose in shaping the larger view of the story. As such, the film constantly feels like it’s opening itself up, as if unfolding a bigger perspective at every moment.

This apt for a film that is also feels so deeply imaginative. When I saw it when I was younger, I knew I was watching something otherworldly that gave me a weird feeling deep in my stomach. But there’s this way kids sort of accept things without realizing how weird they actually are, ya know? And now, thirty years later? The wonderfully bizarre nature of the film’s character models hits me so clearly. Even after watching thousands and thousands of films, AKIRA genuinely feels like it’s constructing things I haven’t seen before. The old, gray-faced children! The particular of the bubbling manifestations of powers! The characters with humongous foreheads! Again, I’ve seen stuff that’s similar, but this is different. And I’m really having trouble expressing my uncanny feeling to the specific aesthetics of this film. It’s uncopy-able, really.

What’s easier to express is how much the film has on its mind. Again, I imagine it’s easy to compare this to all the Cyperpunk works that came before / followed, but again, I don’t want to get lost in popular trope stuff. It’s not about the WHAT. It’s about the HOW. And when I think about the film’s story approach, the comparison I thought about most was actually Children of Men. Because AKIRA has this similar way of passing through all these apocalyptic details of societal unrest, but mostly in the background as the characters go about their days / personal missions. The worker riots. The bombings. The revolutionary graffiti. The actions of all this is always happening at the edge of frame and with other character’s impetuses. As one older character tells us, this is the swelling nature of an “overripe” world, practically bursting at the seams. You could write endlessly about this connection to late stage capitalism and all the horrors that go along with it. But I also like how this “overripe” metaphor directly ties into the film’s central relationship between Kaneda and Tetsuo and the juvenile fits of rebellion.

Now, on one level, it’s sort of hard to argue what AKIRA is really “about” given how much it doesn’t really want to present a clear semiotical thesis, but it’s still tapping into some rich veins of thought. Particularly with how much it focuses Tetsuo’s body evolution and its thematic associations with puberty. Did I say puberty? Yes, I said puberty. Even though they are high schoolers are a thus bit older, the film is directly connecting to that idea. After all, this is a “changing body” horror movie filled with violent, erupting growth, newfound power, and a horrifying lack of control (not to mention a disturbing amount of white secretion). These are the great and terrible feelings of puberty. Naturally, these kids want the fun of growing up without the responsibilities of, you know, “being grown up.” They are far more comfortable being surly, despondent teens who hate everyone and couldn’t give two shits about the revolution around them. They’d much rather have spats with rival gangs and completely ignore school (god I love the film’s chaotic depiction of school). In short, they’re just young punks.

And Kaneda embodies that idea so completely.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a protagonist this disinterested in the story of their own movie? And not in the way where that’s the exact point? He’s just this arrogant tool. Kei walks into his life and he doesn’t get swept up in her revolution, he’s mostly just hitting on her like a jerk (and stays that way). Tetsuo gets taken and he wants to get his friend back due to the vague gang loyalty, but as soon as Tetsuo starts going power mad, Kaneda tries genuinely helping, but pretty quickly shifts back to “fuck this guy.” Even all the conspiracy and the otherworldly god energy just seems like noise to him. There’s no arc here. Even at the end, as he’s saved by the magic old-kids, it’s not part of some grand change in their relationship (even though the theme of “protect your inner child” is pretty damn clear). It just kinda happens. So ultimately, Kaneda’s endless autonomy and self-interest is kind of this amazing thing to behold. And it’s an attitude that also taps into the character’s clear sexist streak, which the film is not exactly going out of its way to reprimand, but certainly shows the Kei pretty much thinks he’s a joke and is utterly disinterested in his bullshit (outside of the way she can use him). Kaneda sucks, but I really feel like the film knows he sucks?

More importantly, he sucks in a way that also makes his particular brand of “unthinking teenage cool” a clear foil to Tetsuo. Because when you look at Tetsuo’s brand of anger and jealousy, it’s interesting how much the film taps into the now-familiar toxic notions of MRAs / incels / betas and their so-called movements. We didn’t have the same therapeutic language for a lot of that crap back then, but it’s all the same feelings at the heart. Tetsuo is consumed by feelings of powerlessness, always retreating inward with resentment. He’ll even fight the very friend who is trying to rescue him because he hates the idea of constantly being rescued. By the time he can use Akira’s power on other people? He’ll not just murder with reckless abandon, but happily tear apart the world en route to his own “rebirth.”

But, again, I don’t think the film is really constructing a super-clear semiotical treatise with regards to all this (whereas I think Neon Genesis Evangelion was far more interested in making a clear symbolic through-line). AKIRA is more all about working from gut instinct and going from there. And in that, it’s willing to take the juvenile leanings of its two characters and follow them into oblivion, outright devolving into grand cosmic weirdness — all while using the language of restarting the big bang to tap into more simplified emotional messaging. Which would be that Tetsuo’s combustion is at one self-immolation and ascendence as it is the letting go of those destructive desires and embracing the “maturity” of higher-evolved thought… sort of. Because honestly there’s no real learned lesson nor cathartic action behind the transition with either character. It just happens as two immovable forces collide with each other. Which makes Tetsuo’s final transcendence feel more like declarative symbolism instead of an integrated, dramatized one.

So where the societal revolution stuff is laser-focused, truthfully, I don’t think I can pin down the intention of the deep cosmic aspects because, as I said, AKIRA is working from the gut level. But this is a testament to how GOOD this movie is at working from its gut. As I often argue, the best abstract art is deeply visceral and this film delivers that in spades. And where some films don’t care about their symbolism making sense at all and totally suffer because of it, AKIRA is really good at toeing that line and giving you just enough for the emotional sense of things to click (along with tapping into broader ideas). This makes the film’s comparison with Neon Genesis Evangelion sort of interesting. Because while there is a lot of clear overlap between the two, that series remains one of the most powerful, haunting things I’ve ever seen in my life. But I also fully admit it is a streamlined, coherent version of a lot of the cosmic ideas seen put forth here in AKIRA.

But now making the connection, I also wouldn’t dare separate or even really try to compare them either. It’s just a something that makes more sense now within the broader interests of anime. As does AKIRA’s placement in the modern pantheon. Yes, I always knew it was part of that puzzle, but you now I can directly trace the lines of Blade Runner and Neuromancer through AKIRA and right into Snowcrash, NGE, Final Fantasy 7, The Matrix, etc. etc. To keep with the metaphor, it’s the big puzzle piece you always knew was there and have even been looking for… and now it has finally just slid right into place with astounding ease.

And the truth is that I’m so excited about how many more puzzle pieces are going to keep falling into place from now on, too. I’m honestly thankful for that. Just as I am thankful to have rewatched something that’s gone from these distant, troubling, visceral memories from thirty years ago, to an utterly clear and vibrant star of cinematic affectation.

There are few better gifts.

Happy new years, friends.

<3HULK