Superheroes turn Japanese in Tiger and Bunny: The Beginning, which screens in Edinburgh ahead of its Japanese premiere, and in London just afterwards. Itâs not just a superhero spectacle. Itâs a buddy drama, a reality-media satire, and a heroâs journey about a middle-aged man doing what he must do, even when heâs a corporate cog in an outfit covered with brand logos.
That man is Kotetsu Kaburagi, known to the world as âWild Tiger,â a superhero with deeper problems than chasing crooks or getting girls. To his family, heâs a widowed single dad who constantly disappoints his resentful young daughter. To the public, heâs a fading sad-sack star overshadowed by the younger generation on Hero TV. Uncool and outmoded, Kotetsu faces being canned altogether. Then he gets unceremoniously paired with Hero TVâs newest recruit, the dashing Barnaby Brooks, who looks like a pop idol dreamboat but has something dark under the surface.
Barnaby is scornful of the klutzy, blustering Tiger; Kotetsu resents Brooksâ youthful arrogance. Can Tiger and âBunnyâ â Kotetsuâs barbed nickname for his partner in a big-eared suit â become a team, conquer evil and beat the ratings?
Since its debut as a TV series last year, the Tiger and Bunny franchise has flourished in many forms. Thereâs been a drama CD, and a stage production in Tokyo, featuring the title duoâs voice-actors in an original story. The new film, Tiger and Bunny: The Beginning, gives a new entry point for newbies, showing the charactersâ first meeting. According to producer Masayuki Ozaki, the film mixes material from the early episodes with new scenes, some set before the TV story. The TV version streams on the Anime on Demand website and hits DVD and Blu-ray early next year.
The show was deliberately made to appeal to a broad international audience, including viewers who donât like anime or superheroes. For Western fans, itâs a fascinating genre-cultural crossover, with more than fifty years of East-West exchange behind it. It has incandescent capes and mutant genes. There are men swinging from buildings, and a hero laying flowers for his murdered parents and childhood. Tiger and Bunnyâs central theme of the ageing hero is long embedded into the genre, thanks to Watchmen, The Dark Knight Returns and Pixarâs The Incredibles.
But Tiger and Bunnyalso has masked heroes in robot power suits, riding motorbikes and making obliquely stylised hand gestures. Some have powers that inconveniently run out after a few minutesâ use (sound familiar, Ultraman and Evangelion fans?). Moreover, Tiger and Bunny treats the whole superhero idea in a very unusual way. In this show, being a superhero isnât a teenage rebellion, an unleashing of inner demons or a shining crusade for truth and justice; though some players make it those things on the side. No, being a superhero is a celebrity popularity contest; itâs an extended commercial where you wear corporate logos, perform in pop videos, and swill soft drinks in TV commercials. And as Tiger is bitterly aware, itâs a job thatâs definitely not guaranteed for life.
This isnât because the Japanese donât understand the western genre of superheroes. On the contrary, artists such as Tiger and Bunny character designer Masakazu Katsura (the famed creator of Iââs and Video Girl Ai), are huge fans of the form. Japanese studios contributed to the anthology Batman Gotham Knight, while Studio Madhouseâs series of Iron Man, Wolverine,X-Men andÂ Blade still await a British release. But Tiger and Bunny isnât hidebound by genre expectations, because superheroes arenât so âmainstreamâ in Japan. Let us take you on a history tour, starting with a superhero star as youâve never seen him before.
The stories you heard were true. Yes, the Japanese Spider-Man had a giant robot. And a motorbike. And a racing car. And he was given his powers by an alien from Planet, er, Spider. And yes, the Japanese Spidey fought walking rubber sharks and other oddities that would seemÂ very familiar to anyone whoâd seenÂ Mighty Morphinâ Power Rangers. The arch-villain was Professor Monster, and his henchwoman was Amazoness (just thinkÂ that one through). And the theme song went âYay, Yay, Yeah, Wow!â presumably because âDoes whatever a spider can!â didnât scan in Japanese.
But to be fair, they got the costume right.
Japanâs live-actionÂ Spider-Man series was shown on TV from 1978 to 1979, overlapping with the sane but boring US TV version, The Amazing Spider-Man. Watched today, the JapaneseÂ Spider-Man feels like the superhero equivalent of those Japanese commercials where Hollywood royalty like Harrison Ford or Dennis Hopper flog cars or beer to the Far East. Ah, the security of the pre-Youtube age, when the English audience would be oblivious.
If you thought the description ofÂ Spider-Man sounds silly, try watching one of the actualÂ episodes â for example, part 7, called âThe Ferocious Hit Song! Sing and Dance to the Killer Rock.â Professor Monsterâs dastardly scheme is to destroy Spider-Manwith sound. Then it gets complicated. A boy-band writes a godawful song to celebrate Spider-Man (Chorus: âSpider-Man Boogie! Spider-Man Boogie!â). Prof Monster murders the band (yay!) and replaces them with cyborg doubles (boo!). He inserts a high-frequency note into their song which onlyÂ spiders can hear. The song sells in the millions, driving Spider-Man mad with agony. Luckily he finds out the singers are cyborgs, and promptly machine-guns them to pieces.
By now, most Western comic-book fans would be banging their heads against a wall, or yearning for a Batsuited Adam West to run down a pier mourning, âSome days you just canât get rid of a bomb!â Yet, bonkers as thisÂ Spider-Man was, it was made on a sensible principle. Back in 1970, artist Ryoichi Ikegamihad drawn and co-wrote a strip version of Spider-Man forÂ Shonen Magazine. Ikigamiâs Spider-Man is a Tokyo high-schooler called Yu Komori. He follows the proper Peter Parker route; heâs bitten by a radioactive spider, even after a teacher has cautioned him not to play with radioactivity-harnessing equipment! Equally properly, Yu fights Marvel-style supervillains.
However, Ikegamiâs version failed twice. It didnât last long inÂ Shonen Magazine; decades later, it came to America as Spider-Man The Manga, and was cancelled at issue 31. Also in 1970,Â Lone Wolf and Cubâs Kazuo Koike wrote aÂ Hulk manga, serialised inÂ Weekly Bokura Magazine. Its hero was a survivor of the Hiroshima A-Bomb, though he still needs a gamma bomb to Hulk him.He never evenÂ reached America.
One of the problems with both strips was localisation; by 1970, Japanese viewers were already used to different heroes. To understand why Ikegamiâs respectfulÂ Spider-Man failed and the mad-as-a-box-of-frogs one succeeded, we need to go back to Japanâs postwar days.
SUPERMAN AND FRIENDS
TwoÂ Supermans reached Japan in the 1950s. One was the American cartoon series, made for cinemas in the 1940s, which became theÂ first animated series ever shown on Japanese TV. The TV run prudently omitted âJapoteursâ (sic), in which Superman saves a giant American bomber from being hijacked from a Nipponese stereotype with big teeth and glasses.The films are classics of superhero animation, with cinematic staging and action in cartoon form, long before anime as we know it.
The animatedÂ Superman was referenced by Hayao Miyazaki in 1980, when he directed an episode of the madcap TV action series,Â Lupin III. In it, the titular master-thief battles a giant robot with an elongated body and arms; a friendlier version appeared in Miyazakiâs 1986 Laputa: Castle in the Sky. Both robots were based on one in an especially vividÂ Superman cartoon, âThe Mechanical Monstersâ (1941).
The otherÂ Superman that hit Japan in the â50s was the live-action American TV show, starring George Reeves. By 1958, it was Japanâs top-rated series â yes, the most popular TV drama show of any kind in Japan. According toÂ The Dorama Encyclopedia, the ReevesÂ Superman was watched by three-quarters of Japanese TV sets in 1958. It was shown by KRT (now TBS) which sensibly decided to create a local superhero in response,Â Gekko Kamen orÂ Moonlight Mask.
Its producer, Shunichi Nishimura, wanted to make a historical swashbuckler about Kurama Tengu, aZorro-style masked hero on horseback. However, Nishimura was baulked by budgets, and settled forÂ Moonlight Mask, with a present-day setting. Like Superman, Moonlight Mask is an alien (he comesÂ from the moon), wearing an all-concealing white suit. He has a long cape, but â just as compulsory for Japanese superheroes in coming years â he also rides a motorbike.
Moonlight Mask was a ratings hit, running nearly a hundred and fifty episodes, but it was finally sunk by concerns that its stunts and fights could be copied by children. The series spawned a manga and a 1972 anime, but most Western fans know it indirectly through an outrageous spoof. TheÂ enfant terrible artist Go Nagai (creator ofÂ Devilman andÂ Mazinger Z) took the nameÂ Gekko Kamen, changed a letter and came up with the infamousÂ Kekko Kamen. Moonlight Mask was dressed in an all-swathing costume that didnât show an inch of skin; Kekko Kamen is a buxom girl who wears a cape, mask, bootsâŚ and nothing else. Donât evenÂ ask about her special attack â oh, you guessed.
In 1959, a year afterÂ Moonlight Maskâsdebut, there was a live-action TV version ofÂ Astro Boy, Osamu Tezukaâs seminal manga, whose cute robot hero was effectively Superman meets Pinocchio. Tezuka was reportedly horrified at the live-action version. Astro Boy wore a risible plastic-looking suit; when he flew, he looked like one of the roman-candle rockets from the 1930sÂ Flash Gordons. Tezuka went on to make the far more famous 1963 anime, a hit in America.
The next year, manga artist Shotaro Ishinomori took the idea of a cyber-hero and created a whole team in the stripÂ Cyborg 009, which was animated several times over the next decades, and now awaits a spectacular cinema revival by Production I.G. In the â60s, though, the cyborgs were overshadowed by the emergence of a live-action Japanese superstar,Â Ultraman. Like Superman and Moonlight Mask, Ultraman is an alien (originally from the âLand of Lightâ). The twist, though, is he can merge with a human. The resulting symbiote is human most of the time, but can turn into a forty-metre red-and-silver giant to take on monsters. The live-action series was a merger betweenÂ Superman and Japanâs monster-movie tradition; it was conceived by Eiji Tsubaraya, Godzillaâs effects maestro.Â Debuting in 1966, Ultraman has continued ever since though a succession of sequels.
Another TV mega-franchise began in 1971 withÂ Masked Rider (Rider Kamen), a biker hero who, unlike Moonlight Mask, transforms into his masked super-state. Many of the successive Masked Riders wear insect-like costumes, much as the anime heroes ofÂ Science Ninja Team Gatchaman (1972) were costumed as birds.Â Gatchaman is known to British viewers through its modified Western version,Â Battle of the Planets. The Gatchaman team, or G-Force, were âalways five, acting as one,â and they were probably influenced by a popular British export to Japan,Â Thunderbirds.
In turn,Â Gatchaman was a likely influence on a live-action series, aboutÂ another team of five acting as one. That wasÂ Goranger (1975)â âfive rangers,â whose descendants would be mighty, morphinâ and powered. BothÂ Goranger andÂ Kamen Rider were conceived by Shotaro Ishinomori, a decade after Cyborg 009.
The Ranger format was so popular that three years afterÂ Goranger, the showâs home studio Toei grafted several of its elements ontoÂ Spider-Man. Most ofÂ Gorangerâssequels, though, involved hero-teams. In 1992,Â Zyuranger (Gorangerâs fifteenth official descendant), was spliced into the first series ofÂ Mighty Morphinâ Power RangersâŚ
SUPERTEAMS AND LONE WOLVES
Itâs often claimed that the team is king in Japan. Many Japanese heroes are conceived as teams, fromÂ Gatchaman toÂ Sailor Moon, reflecting local culture and marketing strategies (imagine all that multiple merchandise!). Not that you can just export American teams to Japan and bank on them succeeding. In the 1990s, there was a twelve-volumeÂ X-Men manga, adapted not from the US comic, but from a Fox TV animation exported to Japan. Again, it failed to click, going the way of IkegamiâsÂ Spider-Man. One suggestion was the Japanese artists had trouble with American superhero aesthetics: six-packs for the men, hourglass shapes for the ladies. (Though for six-packs, just look at Ken in Fist of the North StarâŚ)
Generalisations about Japanese culture are dubious. There are strong individualist character in manga and anime, though many of the most popular lone fighters in recent years are dark, Machiavellian anti-heroes, beyond good or evil. Whether they count as superheroes or not is moot. Think ofÂ Death Noteâs Light Yagami (who comes over as a less human version ofÂ Watchmenâs Rorschach), or Lelouch inÂ Code Geass. TheÂ Evangelionfranchise emphasises how much the firebrand pilot AsukaÂ wants to be a lone superheroine, jeopardising her allies. And as weâve said before, Tetsuo in Akiracould be a parody of a character like the Hulk, unchained and utterly murderous.
The creators of Tiger and Bunny considered different versions of the middle-aged Tiger. He might have been a company president, or a freelance lone-wolf agent, like the wandering ronin of yore. In the final version, he and Bunny are company employees, part of a strange quasi-team whose members must work together to catch crooks, yet outshine each other for the publicâs pleasure. Producer Masayuki Ozaki said the show was about the conflict and drama between people serving time in an organization. Or you could see it as a fantasticated Big Brother, or The Office, or a distinctly Japanese twist on a Western fantasy, where rebellion and narcissism give way to the group. Only didnât the same thing happen in Avengers AssembleâŚ?
Or, of course, you could forget all that and just watch for the costumes, motorbikes, vendettas, supercrooks and the two best buddies in anime â Tiger and Bunny.
Sternbild City is home to people called Next, who use their special abilities to protect the people as superheroes. These heroes solve cases and save lives so they can wear sponsor logos or acquire hero points. Their activities are documented on the popular program Hero TV, which picks the King of Heroes in a yearly ranking. The veteran hero Wild Tiger has always preferred to work alone, but now he's been assigned the rookie Barnaby Brooks Jr., who has a different perspective on being a superhero.
Limited Edition Combo Pack includes 2 DVD discs and 1 Blu-ray Disc, 3 collectors cards and 3 collectors mini-magazines, digi-packaging and outer slip cover.
Of the anime titles turned into T-shirts by Uniqlo, One Piece is the biggest â the reigning king of all the anime and manga franchises, pretty much unchallenged in the 16 years since Eiichiro Oda began the manga, and 14 since Toei Animation started animating it. But perhaps Uniqlo would have turned One Piece into a line of shirts even if the saga hadnât been a world hit. Just look at those pirate designs â brash, cartoony, uncompromising. Thereâs no whiff of a committee, no hint of a five-year product plan reliant on changing a heroineâs hair colour (or deepening her cleavage). It just helps that the pictures are as commercial when they move as they are when theyâre a cool static graphic in a manga, or on the front of a T-shirt.
âNinja or pirates?â While Naruto â representing the ninja corner, of course â has proven hugely popular, UK fans have long been unable to weigh in on the other side. With the long-awaited arrival of One Piece on DVD this May, that finally changes.
Matt Kamen finds out whoâs who in the One Piece anime
Monkey D. Luffy: The founder and captain of the Straw Hats, Luffy is a carefree soul who wants to become king of the pirates. After eating the Gum-Gum Devil Fruit, he gained an elastic body, making him near-invulnerable and able to stretch but paradoxically making him unable to swim.
One-hit wonders. Every country has them. And, as PSY can most likely attest, very few musicians really want to be labelled as one. Sure, itâs all fun, games and fancy dinners when that royalty cheque floats through the letter box. The one with all the zeroes from that single from yesteryear that went massive. But what about the rest of your work? It must be somewhat unsatisfying as an artist to be known for one track, while everything else remains relatively overlooked, and expectations are high for that difficult follow up single. If youâre TOMATO CUBE, you do nothing. Ever again.
Andrew Osmond says, if you like that, you might like thisâŚ
Summer Wars and Sword Art Online are made for a generation whoâve grown up with and within virtuality: social networks, video streaming, games without borders or ends. Both anime are adventures about things going wrong in cyberspace, but neither are technophobic; on the contrary, theyâre all about hugging the avatar.
The Japan Foundationâs annual touring film programme is back for another year, and kicking off at Londonâs Institute of Contemporary Arts at the end of the month. Now in its tenth iteration, the season offers audiences across the UK an insight into Japan and its cinema by way of a wide-ranging and accessible selection of titles assembled under a certain theme. This year, that theme is youth, with the eleven-film âEast Side Stories: Japanese Cinema Depicting the Lives of Youthâ programme travelling to eight venues across England, Scotland and Northern Ireland from 31 January to 27 March.
Jasper Sharp reviews a book-length collection on the âGod of Mangaâ
Tezukaâs Manga Life is a scholarly and much-needed attempt to sort out the wheat from the chaff of the Tezuka myth, with its 22 contributors spread over 300+ pages attempting to put the vast output of the prodigious manga artist into context.
Turning Point offers invaluable peeps at Miyazakiâs mind at work, including the way he grows his imagery out of lyrical ideas. âI am experiencing old age for the first time in my life,â he comments at one point, managing to be both wise and dotty at the same time.
Salarymen to the left of me, shoppers to the right. And here I am, stuck in the middle with otaku. Well, more accurately Iâm frolicking with them, in Hibiya Open-Air Concert Hall, a concrete amphitheatre thatâs dwarfed by the towering skyscrapers of Tokyoâs business district to the west, and high-end retail haven Ginza to the east. Between the two is the venue, hidden in the peaceful Hibiya Park. Peaceful, that is, until 3,000 anime fans descend en masse, clutching chunky glow batons, wearing identical shirts and all waiting for the latest lady-singer that tickles the tastes of otaku to hit the stage; LiSA.
Arthur Rankin Jr, who died last Thursday, was not often thought of in connection with Japanese animation, though he played a major part in its history. In America, heâs best known as the co-founder of Rankin/Bass Productions. A stateside brand, the Rankin/Bass name is linked with handmade family cartoons as fondly as Oliver Postgate or Aardman are in Britain. But while the studioâs cartoons â especially the stop-motion Christmas classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964) â are evergreens, few people know their animation was Japanese.
Babymetal, anime apartheid and MazandaRanting in our 25th podcast.
Jeremy âCare in the Communityâ Graves is joined by Manga UKâs Jerome âTwitter Hijackerâ Mazandarani and Product Manager Andrew âMr Mangaâ Hewson, and special guest Stuart Ashen, star of Ashens and the Quest for the Gamechild, out now. Not sure any of those names will stick.
Andrew Osmond investigates the long love affair between samurai and cowboys
28th February sees the classic Hollywood Western go East. Yuresarazaru Mono has the English title Unforgiven; it remakes the celebrated 1992 Western of that name, which was directed by its star Clint Eastwood and won the Best Picture Oscar.