Film Dunce is a weekly series in which one of our writers finally succumbs to the lure of a movie that has long been a big part of our culture that they have never seen. Seen through fresh eyes, we evaluate, enjoy and sometimes get bored by these titans of mental real estate.
I waited until I was 24 to see Akira and that's a cross I'll have to bear for the rest of my naturally nerdy life. The purpose of this series is to come to terms with having missed such indelible totems of popular culture, but some trespasses are just inexcusable. Being a noted fan of violence, dystopias and insanely powerful youths, having gone my life without seeing the catalyst for modern anime is an issue I have remedied, and can safely recommend that the same be done for anyone in the same boat.
Akira was written and directed by Katsuhiro Otomo, who is also the author of the source material: a far-reaching, multi-volume saga that wasn't even finished when production began. The plot is a bit hard to digest, especially when taking into consideration that six volumes of written material were condensed into two hours. Essentially, a secret government organization kidnaps some members of a motorcycle gang and experiments on them. The victims then develop psychic powers. The scientist in charge of the project discovers that one of the youths, Tetsuo, seems to share similar abilities (and seemingly genetics) with a previous subject, the eponymous Akira, who destroyed Neo-Tokyo 39 years prior. Tetsuo decides to rebel against his creator and to search for Akira. Along the way, his best friend Kaneda, who was always something of a guardian to Tetsuo, takes it upon himself to break him out of his prison, and then to attempt to destroy him when he loses his humanity.
While watching Akira, I was stunned by how much of the film has been swiped by the rest of popular culture, sometimes with seemingly no acknowledgment. For example, those who think Larry and Andy Wachowski created "bullet time" for The Matrix never saw the scene where Tetsuo, at the height of his powers, stops the bullets fired at him. While The Matrix and its sequels spawned some half-baked philosophical questions and concerns, Akira did it first, and on a much more intimate scale.
Perhaps the most notable thing about Akira is the tremendous attention to detail- at times, I completely forgot I was watching animation. The complex intricacies of crafting the film really stand out, especially during its action sequences. As Tetsuo begins to expand and consume Neo-Tokyo, every vein and corpuscle of his tentacles can be seen, especially as they engulf Kaneda, the Olympic Stadium and the rest of the city. Animation usually has some pitfalls, due to its strenuous nature, particularly in the hand-drawn sector, but I was left in awe by the clarity of the instrument panel on Kaneda's bike or the graffiti that litters Neo-Tokyo, which the DVD handily translates whenever it is paused.
Viewing Akira was a revelatory experience for me, just as intriguing now as it was 22 years ago upon its release. It's not often that a film where the government uses a satellite weapon against a 15 year old boy is held in such a high esteem, or even allowed to exist, but like its eponymous character, the film is just that powerful.
by Rafael Gaitan
