(This is a repost of my translations of Ryuusuke Hikawa’s columns that were published on Concrete Revolutio’s official site.)
- Superhuman Investigation Column #14: The World Takes a Turn For the Worse and Tokusatsu Makes a Comeback
- Superhuman Investigation Column #15: The Focal Point of Superhuman Media in the Late Autumn of 1971
- Superhuman Investigation Column #16: Gag Anime as a Supernatural Existence
- Superhuman Investigation Column #17: Depths of the Earth, Bottom of the Sea, Unexplored Lands, Space
- Superhuman Investigation Column #18: Mass Production of Human-sized Superhumans
- Superhuman Investigation Column #19: Henshin Historical Fiction and Destined Rivals
- Superhuman Investigation Column #20: The Vietnam War and Military Toys
- Superhuman Investigation Column #21: The Origin of Giant Superhumans is Godzilla
- Superhuman Investigation Column #22: The Oil Crisis and the End of the World Trend
- Superhuman Investigation Column #23: Okinawa, Superhumans, and Kaiju Crazes
- Superhuman Investigation Column #24: Superhuman Media Moves From Fantasy Towards Reality
Superhuman Investigation Column #14: The World Takes a Turn For the Worse and Tokusatsu Makes a Comeback
Published: April 15, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
The first episode of the second season, Episode 14, has the title of “November’s Superhumans.” It covers incidents that took place in Shinka Era 46 from October to November. The world has taken a huge turn for the worse since three years ago, when Jirou cut ties with the Superhuman Bureau due to the Shinjuku disturbances in October during Shinka Era Year 43 (Episode 13).
In 1971 CE in the real world, the curtain rose for the second kaiju craze. Tokusatsu hero shows had declined for a bit due to the sports boom. However, in January of that same year, a TV tokusatsu show called Uchuu Enjin Gori (later renamed Spectreman) started a huge comeback. In this show, evil scientists came from space, and one named Professor Gori started to send polluting kaiju, one after the other. A work by the same author, competing in the same timeslot, was a gritty sports show seen as his magnum opus, Star of the Giants. Spectreman completely overthrew Star of the Giants in terms of ratings.
During this year, the air, the rivers, and the seas were some of the natural environments that factories had been propped up by, polluting the nearby nature with waste products. The general public felt their lives were in danger just by living their normal lives due to the pollution problems. The view of the 1960s era and its rapid economic growth which was brought by advances in science and technologies and drove society and business –– that entire image was flipped over in a huge way. Against that backdrop, from April of the same year, The Return of Ultraman and Kamen Rider started up again. Kamen Rider in particular created a record-breaking “transforming hero craze.” 1966’s Ultraman started the first kaiju boom, but it took five years for it to really materialize. The target age group was reset to preschoolers and early elementary school children, and most of the morning viewers were now in junior high school or above, and had already “graduated” from that type of programming.
In this way, the main audience was intended to be the mix of changing generations. However, it was easier said than done. Creators who wanted to make something new were using their rage at the bleak state of society as a catalyst, and began to hammer out works that pierced the heart. An example of this is Episode 11 of The Return of Ultraman, which is commonly known as one of the “November Masterpieces.” The broadcast announcements in early Fall had provocative themes and stories features prominently. People couldn’t help but gaze at them in wonder. And for those like me, who were in the second year of junior high school at the time, we experienced the shock of this event. Because of that shock, our thoughts began to drag, and we missed our ideal chance to graduate into a good life, delaying our life plans instead. The term “November Masterpieces” was actually adopted into doujinshi magazine circles a few years later, and then in the late 70s, it was put to use in commercial magazines as well.
In reality, there was no limit on anything being from November, which caused some argument due to differing opinions. But there is no doubt that the coinage of a new word will cause some heated discussions of this sort, and this period of controversy inevitably burns the new word into our hearts. It’s possible that such turning points could have major impacts on the world of the Shinka Era as well.
[tl notes: Doujinshi is just self/fan-published magazines, manga, novels, etc.]
Superhuman Investigation Column #15: The Focal Point of Superhuman Media in the Late Autumn of 1971
Published: April 22, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
When studying the TV series of the 60s and 70s, one can get surprised at the speed of the creators. In the early half of 1971, the second kajiu craze began, and in that same year, there was an event in the late fall that caused anxiety in society, fueling the boom further.
Two tokusatsu hero shows clashed within the time slot of 7 AM on Sunday morning, which was the single best family-friendly time slot. Senkosha Productions’ Silver Mask, a human-sized hero show, started one week earlier, on November 28th. Mirrorman followed this a week later, starting on December 5th. This Tsuburaya Production work continued the idea from Ultraman of having a giant hero character fight kaiju as its main thrust. In the following year, on February 6th, Episode 11 was the first to feature a new name for the program, Silver Mask Giant. This change in title went along with a change in the series itself, with the story now also being a giant hero story. Half way through the year, its final episode, Episode 26, was broadcast. It seems that Mirrorman, which ran for a year with a total of 51 episodes, won the battle.
Here we see a “focal point” of superhuman media. The production of Silver Mask was actually handled by the staff of fellow TBS Takeda Hour show, Ultraseven (1968); a reunited mix of staff from Nippon Gendai Kikaku and Kodai Group. Up until just before Ultra Q, the time slot had broadcast the period drama The Samurai (1962). After first earning popularity as the tokusatsu hero Moonlight Mask (1958), it’s no surprise Kouichi Oose would go on to also play the lead role in The Samurai, which was yet another work by Senkosha Productions. The period drama’s main scriptwriter, Masaru Igami, had a thrilling storytelling style that kicked off a ninja fad that continued for four years. Ultraman later using his secret Beam Attack technique in a battle against the exhausted Space Ninja Baltan Planetarians is actually a continuation of what had already been happening within the time slot.
When you think about it, Silver Mask was a series about a masked figure just like Kamen Rider (and also had Masaru Igami as the main scriptwriter) which had become such a hit. It’s a superhuman tokusatsu show that goes along with many existing conventions. However, these works, which were by the same author, are now considered provocative and unique even with their large target audience. Silver Mask’s scriptwriter Masaru Sasaki and its director Akio Jissouji opened the curtain for series about young people’s journeys, with a focus on realism. The loneliness of the protagonists, the Kasuga siblings, who fight against aliens that have infiltrated Earth, is not something people can easily understand. And then in Mirrorman, we also have a dark sci-fi invasion story about a hero who fights invaders from the darkness of space. Both programs had a bitterness that was a reflection of the times.
Although the giant tokusatsu hero show Mirrorman was temporarily on top, the year after, it was replaced by an anime in its time slot. That anime, which would go on to dominate childrens’ TV programming from the mid 70s and on, and which was the progenitor of the anime robot boom, was Mazinger Z (1972).
[tl notes: In the first paragraph, he hints at real-life events in 1971. I’m no historian and I’m no Japanese person, but I assume he’s referring to the 1971 Okinawa Reversion Agreement, which was ratified in November that year. There were protests and riots a few months earlier about it, since of course Okinawa wanted independence, not to be handed over to be part of Japan. Not to mention the whole part where it meant America can just dump all its military shit there. It was controversial, to say the least, so I can only imagine it’s the source of anxiety he was referring to.]
Superhuman Investigation Column #16: Gag Anime as a Supernatural Existence
Published: May 2, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
In 1965 CE, TV cartoons flourished immensely. The standardbearer of the everyday gag comedy show, Obake no Q-tarou, made its entrance in this year. Despite industry insiders parroting negative criticism that “everyday scenarios don’t belong in anime, which should take place in another world,” the show gave rise to an “Oba-Q boom.”
Once 1967 came along, Ultraman and its influence caused sci-fi hero shows for boys in anime to decline, and gag anime rose to the top. A ton of works were being made which mixed daily life with peculiar characters, such as Perman, Donkikko, Chibikko Kaiju Yadamon, and Oraa Guzura Dado. In the earliest days of animated films, their ability to warp reality was a point that had caught the attention of surrealist creators. Since the gag genre breaks common sense, it has a natural affinity with anime. The term “tiger mom” had entered popular use, and the trapped feelings of the children who had their play time sealed away ended up receiving gag anime warmly due to their destructive sense of comedy.
Within that trend, there were many titles that have the sense of reforming the era. For example, the successor to the 4-year long-running Astro Boy, which was called Gokuu no Daibouken, was a work by director Gisaburoo Sugii and his team of then-young staff, who had a free-spirited approach, untethered by common sense. The characters take turns going on rampages, which are impossible to foresee, with continued surreal developments. Combined with the aesthetically-pleasing art, the show is very enjoyable.
New creators also emerged who had totally different tastes from the leading figures of the Tokiwa-sou Group and the monthly magazine era. Fujio Akatsuka’s most famous work, Osomatsu-kun, had a successor program called Kaminari Bouya Pikkari Pii by a new artist named Tsunezou Murotani. It was a gag anime that reflected its creator’s bizarre thoughts. It is also an “Oba-Q type” series in that it has a child of thunder from the heavens become a freeloader in a boy’s house, and then sharp, witty gags occur in swift succession. These included odd ideas like wearing a top hat while riding on a cloud, shooting lightning at scoundrels and making flowers bloom out of their belly buttons.
In the following year, Fight da!! Pyuuta began, and it became the definitive surreal-style gag anime. Its sense of speed and trashing of common sense completely swept away its predecessors, and it is spoken of even now as a legendary gag anime. With their effect of shocking our sense of reality, and giving us a new way of looking at things, perhaps the way these surrealist style gag works go beyond normal peoples’ common sense and challenge existing stereotypes make them works that could even be called “superhuman” in their own right.
[tl notes: Tokiwa-sou Group refers to a bunch of famous manga artists who all had lived in a specific apartment building called Tokiwa-sou. Examples of some of those creators include Osamu Tezuka, Fujiko Fujio, Shotaro Ishinomori, and even Fujio Akatsuka.]
Superhuman Investigation Column #17: Depths of the Earth, Bottom of the Sea, Unexplored Lands, Space
Published: May 11, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
Thinking back on the time around the 1970s, it was an era characterized by a bunch of extreme things being mixed together without any organization. America’s Apollo program sent an astronaut to the surface of the moon, and the computers which made that possible, electronic computers, underwent sudden, rapid development. At the Osaka World Expo, moon rocks were displayed, and these electronic computers were also brought in. They were used for things like drawing faces with alphanumeric characters, making it a bit of an ancestor to ASCII art. Those same computers controlled nuclear devices, so the possibility that any error could lead to all-out nuclear war aroused fears that humans could be at the mercy of and controlled by machines.
Although the convenience of our lives has, without a doubt, been much greater due to science, there also seems to be a fear that it will inhibit our human nature. It’s also ironic that the unscientific “youkai” who come from the world of darkness are able to enter our living rooms through the modern convenience of the television. When Shigeru Mizuki’s Hakaba no Kitarou was adapted into a TV anime in 1968, the original work’s title was changed to GeGeGe no Kitarou, and the more vicious aspects were removed. The increasingly crude energy of TV culture tunneled the scientific and the unscientific into confrontation with each other. Different kinds of superhumans, such as youkai, aliens, and robots, solve cases that would be nearly impossible for humans to resolve. At the same time, they convey the limits of humanity’s narrow-minded knowledge and awareness.
Fiction aimed at children often chooses locations far removed from our everyday life. Other than space, common locations include: beneath the Earth’s surface, deep in the ocean, and secluded regions. This is clear even when just looking at the original Ultraman (1966), which had a lot of variation in its setting for each episode. Is this because the adults themselves seek these unexplored frontiers, or is it out of their hope that the children, who will have to carry the next generation, will want themselves to surpass limits as they grow? The stories frequently depict the conflict that occurs when people with different values come into contact with each other.
Among the commonly-used locations, space is special. The depths of the Earth, the depths of the ocean, and unexplored regions are all part of Earth, so they’re linked to some country’s territory. However, outside Earth’s gravity, the vacuum of space, and even the surface of the moon (which had yet to be reached by humanity), didn’t belong to anyone yet. It is symbolic that the previously-mentioned Apollo program was part of President Kennedy’s “New Frontier Program.” Even though the space race was a product of the Cold War, it ended with Apollo 17. Since then, the transition to the age of the space shuttle was made, with the intent of recycling spacecraft.
In many respects, the final phase of the completely unknown being worn away was probably in the 1970s.
Superhuman Investigation Column #18: Mass Production of Human-sized Superhumans
Published: May 20, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
[tl notes: You need some info for later on in case you’re not super familiar with tokusatsu stuff. I was going to translate the word “henshin” but then when I saw they mentioned sentai I changed my mind because I feel like the possible English translations just don’t capture what it actually is very well, but it felt wrong to translate one and not the other. So FYI, “henshin” just means transform and in this context it’s referring to superhumans that start out in a human form and then transform into a rubber suit to fight enemies, like in Kamen Rider. Sentai, on the other hand, refers to series where there’s a team of people who fight enemies together. They usually have suits that are really just like clothes, and my understanding having seen only a handful of sentai shows is that it’s not uncommon for them to also have a giant robot that they all co-pilot together, though I wouldn’t call it a requirement. I guess a familiar example for English-speakers not into this kind of fandom would be Power Rangers.
One more word that shows up in here is “kaijin.” If kaiju are big ol giant monster/animal critters, you can think of kaijin as the human-sized, humanoid equivalent. In a very literal way “kaiju” is just mystery beast and “kaijin” is just mystery person so it’s not terribly helpful to translate either into English if you want people to be able to see the broader picture of these concepts. I just wanted to note that since unlike kaiju, kaijin didn’t have Pacific Rim out there legitimizing it as a word.]
In 1971 CE, the new generation of children who were TV viewers became the center of the second kaiju craze. Kamen Rider specifically added a pose and energetic shouts to the transformation sequence from its 2nd cours on, which stimulated the imitative imagination of children and was highly successful. In particular, what guided tokusatsu programs to a new stage was the successive introduction of human-sized “kaijin.” At the end of that same year, Keibunsha published a magazine called Full-color Kaijin/Kaiju Encyclopedia which became a bestseller. It was unprecedented at the time, because it had kaiju and kaijin from movies and TV listed in alpabetical order, with information such as their height, weight, and origin; it even included data about the first work they appeared in. The fact that the book title had written down “kaiju” and “kaijin” right next to each other was also a big move.
To match the children of the TV generation, kaiju, which had become mass-produced commodities, needed to go beyond simply being giant plants and animals. Ideas that were far removed from the human form, such as “two humans acting as if one” started to feel like their originality had all dried up. In 1972, Ultraman Ace brought out the new concept of a “superbeast that is more powerful than kaiju” to address this issue, which was an escalation in terms of colorfulness and decorativity. Just one of these “kaijin” had costume elements like tights, belts, boots, etc., and special molded objects were squeezed onto the head and upper body, with elements to make them immediately conjure up the idea of creatures like spiders and bats when viewed from the front. This simple yet fresh idea became popular right away. The fact that it was done as a cost-saving measure but added new value is something truly Japanese.
And so the second kaiju craze spread rapidly. In 1971, there were 5 tokusatsu programs: Uchuu Enjin Gori (AKA Spectreman), The Return of Ultraman, Kamen Rider, Suki! Suki!! Majo Sensei, Silver Mask, and Mirrorman. In 1972, 13 works started: Kaiketsu Lionmaru, Choujin Barom-1, Redman, Ultraman Ace, Henshin Ninja Arashi, Triple Fighter, Kinkyuu Seirei 10-4 10-10, Jinzou Ningen Kikaider, Thunder Mask, Ike! Godman, Ai no Senshi Rainbowman, Iron King, and Totsugeki Human!!. 1973’s new programs were Fireman, Majin Hunter Mitsurugi, Kamen Rider V3, Jumborg Ace, Ryuusei Ningen Zone, Shirojishi Kamen, Robot Detective, Ultraman Taro, Fuuun Lionmaru, Kikaider 01, Super Robot Red Baron, Inazuman, Kure Kure Takora, Hikari no Senshi Diamond Eye, Tetsujin Tiger Seven, and Ike! Greenman, giving the year a whopping 17 titles. In comparison with the giant superhumans who required special sets, miniatures, and excellent cinematographic know-how, the human-sized superhumans could simply be filmed outdoors with suits and gunpowder, so they were low-cost and enabled a huge increase in production. That’s also why this is sometimes referred to comprehensively as the “henshin boom.”
Incidentally, in 1973, the oil crisis began. As a result, in the next year, 1974, the amount of new titles dropped dramatically to just 8: Kamen Rider X, Kamen Rider Amazon, Inazuman F, Denjin Zaborger, Ultraman Leo, Ganbare!! Robocon, SF Drama Saru no Gundan, and Super Robot Mach Baron. Even worse, in 1975, the long-running flagship series Ultraman, Kamen Rider, and Godzilla (films) all ended one after the other. And so, with the production of life-sized henshin heroes coming to an end, sentai series and robot anime shifted into the mainstream. The “henshin boom” was essentially a flower of the times, blooming beautifully in one moment and then promptly withering away.
Superhuman Investigation Column #19: Henshin Historical Fiction and Destined Rivals
Published: May 25, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
The henshin boom’s originator, Kamen Rider (1971), had the structure of a purely for entertainment period piece. Riding a motorcycle is an evolution of riding a horse, and the protagonist’s strength is shown plenty by having him fight with crowds of nobodies. It had the same style of samurai cinema period pieces that Toei had long cultivated. In April 1972, Henshin Ninja Arashi and Kaiketsu Lionmaru started, as part of the natural flow of henshin historical fiction.
Henshin Ninja Arashi, like Kamen Rider, was originally created by Shotaro Ishinomori, and was produced by Toei. It had the feel of a straightforward period drama, but because it aired at the same time as Ultraman Ace, it was not particularly successful. Rather, the popularity was focused on Kaiketsu Lionmaru, which started after Spectreman. P Productions, who produced Kaiketsu Lionmaru, had also produced two pilot films around the first kaiju boom of 1967: Jaguar-man, and Leopard-man. They were featured in Weekly Shounen Magazine, but just before broadcasting, they were cancelled. Both works’ idea and setting, namely the introduction of feline-themed superhumans, were ultimately applied in Lionmaru.
Lionmaru, with his long white mane, cape, and ability to transform using a Japanese sword, was particularly unusual, and felt fresh. After this hit, P Production produced cat-themed superhumans one after the other, with Fuuun Lionmaru, Tetsujin Tiger Seven, and Silver Jaguar (pilot version). Among all these cat-themed superhuman programs, a special mention should go to Kaiketsu Lionmaru and its 27th episode for introducing a rival character, Tiger Joe.
His name pre-transformation is Jounosuke Tora. He is a man who left his distinguished family to do all he could to become the best swordsman in Japan, and then allied with Demon King Gohsun. In his first battle with Shishimaru/Lionmaru, one of his eyes was injured, and after that, they crossed swords many times as arch-enemies. Although Jounosuke is on the side of evil, he has a fixation about battling with absolute beauty, and his sense of aesthetic also makes him hate cowardly tactics. While they cross swords, the evenly-matched Shishimaru starts to feel a sort of strange camaraderie. This was a good change. Although there were some issues along the way, such as his actor dying in an accident and having to be replaced, Tiger Joe was extremely popular.
If the superhuman in the lead role is “light,” then the rival superhuman is the opposing “darkness.” Humans themselves hold both light and darkness equally in their hearts, so the two superhumans held up the series as a pair. Hakaider from Jinzou Ningen Kikaider (1972) is another example of a show having a black knight type rival character to have spectacular fights with. These types of characters eventually became the norm, but that trend is yet another that traces its genealogy to this time period.
(Lionmaru facing off against Tiger Joe)
Superhuman Investigation Column #20: The Vietnam War and Military Toys
Published: June 14, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
The “Mekong Delta” introduced in Episode 20 is a river delta of the Mekong River in south Vietnam, and it is full of wetlands and jungle. From the mid 1960s, the US Armed Forces increased their level of intervention in the Vietnam War, and an intense fight developed between them and the Viet Cong in this location. Although Japan did not directly participate in the military actions, the fact that they had US military bases meant that they indirectly assisted with the fight. Awareness of that problem was the foundation of Japan’s student activism movement.
Many of the American soldiers who had been in Vietnam returned home burdened by trauma from their experiences. After the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, movies that questioned the meaning of war like The Deer Hunter (1978) and Apocalypse Now (1979) were produced. The action film series Rambo (1982) had its first film focus on the isolation of a Vietnam veteran who couldn’t find a place he belonged other than the battlefield.
In Japan, the postwar period was characterized by Americanization, and this was also influenced by a historical tendency towards producing toys. There was already a long history of girls playing with dolls in Japan, but when the US company Mattel introduced Barbie dolls in 1962, Japanese toy company Takara (now Takara Tomy), which had dominated a generation with their Dakko-chan toys, created a Japanese version of Barbie dolls, called “Licca-chan dolls,” in 1967. These were a huge success. The point of the dolls was to dress them up and to play make-believe with things found around the house. This simulation play also had the effect of cultivating aesthetic taste, so it became an enormous trend.
Meanwhile, the US company Hasbro used Barbie as a hint and developed a toy aimed at boys, “G.I. Joe.” Sales began in Japan in 1966 as goods imported by Sanei Boueki, and in 1968, Takara obtained the rights to sell them. These toys had highly mobile joints, and there were a wide range of poses you could make. Combined with the ability to change the military uniform, and the small arms and other equipment you could change out freely, they were highly customizable toys. This feeling of playing soldier was one of the roots of Gundam’s plastic model kits that we have today. To go further, in 1971, spurred on by the second kaiju craze, a version that could change costumes into tokusatsu superhumans was released. Following this development, in 1972, they launched a new series of toys called Henshin Cyborg, which had a body made of transparent parts, and a mecha skeleton on the inside.
The play value of the superhuman cosplay, realistic proportions, and movable joints was inherited from G.I. Joe, the removable hands and legs allowed for the sale of optional equipment, and it had Japan-specific design aspects added all over. The gimmick of exchanging parts eventually came to be used during the robot anime boom in a variety of ways.
Superhuman Investigation Column #21: The Origin of Giant Superhumans is Godzilla
Published: June 24, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
As stated in Episode 4’s column, the evolution of Japanese superhuman media is hugely influenced by kaiju. Originally, there was no concept of giant superhumans in confrontation with kaiju. That is difficult to see because the formula of a new kaiju with a different theme appearing each week and being defeated by the hero in battle was already perfected with Ultraman. As we can see from production documents, Ultraman was originally conceived to be the “strongest kaiju” rather than a superhuman.
The concept of Ultraman, completed with artist Tooru Narita at its core, was something that hinged on the idea that kaiju are chaos, and so superhumans must be order. This clear delineation was the reason for its success, and it was unmistakable that it is why the two concepts had been separate.
There were other works created by Tsuburaya Productions, though. The story behind God of Tokusatsu Eiji Tsuburaya’s Godzilla (1954) also casts a huge shadow over the new generation of superhumans, Ultraman. The progenitor of the Japanese kaiju, Godzilla, was a giant creature born as a result of atomic bomb experiments. The product of war’s cutting edge science was a terrifying thing. Other than this background, Godzilla differs from western Europe’s “monsters” in two notable ways. The first is that it can breathe radioactive fire, and the second is that its spines glow before it does so. Both are scientific metaphors and both are expressions of artistic use of light in film.
From that point on, many kaiju were introduced that breathed heat rays or flames, or they would fire them from their eyes or protrusions on their bodies as they lit up. This would be done either by building lights into the suits, or by using the latest technology, “compositing.” Either way, it was realized through the existence of science and technology. This unification with technological methods strengthened the metaphor of terrors born from science.
Ultraman, again, is also part of this lineage. His eyes glow from a 12-volt light bulb that goes out when his life is in critical condition. The Color Timer, which shows the limit of his energy, flickers when he’s in a pinch. Basically, life = electric light. Ultraman’s secret technique, the Spacium Ray, is also centered around light. This is a composite of animation using the latest equipment called an optical printer, making it a hybrid of anime and tokusatsu.
There is an amazing thread that ties Ultraman to Godzilla in a causal fashion. In a way, it’s like a blood relation. Perhaps we can get closer to the essence of this sort of evolution by looking for commonalities in things that, at first glance, appear completely different from each other.
Superhuman Investigation Column #22: The Oil Crisis and the End of the World Trend
Published: June 29, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
The oil crisis of 1973 that we touched on in Episode 18’s column was a period that marked the end of the age of “scientism.” The thought that a scientific civilization, built on fossil fuels, would build us a life of abundance and a rose-colored future, was all just a house of cards. Such a state, sustained by science, had the vulnerabilities of its infrastructure exposed. People rushed to buy essentials for daily life, such as toilet paper, and unexpected things were discovered to be vital for our humanity. This shook ideas that were commonly accepted by Japanese society. But the biggest impact it had was that it changed people’s view of the future from being based on “hope” to being based on “despair.” This was the advent of what was called the “end of the world trend” and the “occult fad.”
First, in March 1973, sci-fi author Sakyou Komatsu’s novel, Japan Sinks (volumes 1 and 2) sold over 2 million copies, becoming an unprecedented class of bestseller. After that, in November of the same year, Ben Gotou’s new book The Prophecies of Nostradamus was published, also selling over 2 million copies. In that book, the part that says “In July 1999, a great and terrifying leader will come out of the sky” was highlighted as a prophecy of humanity’s extinction, instilling anxieties about the future into the hearts of children. In reality, events like the 1995 sarin gas attack, perpetrated by Aum Shinrikyo, had an enormous impact on society right near the end of the century.
Anime and tokusatsu were also greatly influenced by this change. Following the publication of Japan Sinks, in the very same year, Toho adapted it into a major film for New Year’s Eve. This was also a huge hit. The realistic destruction of the city portrayed by special effects director Teruyoshi Nakano, with his detailed disaster special effects, had a stimulating effect on Japanese movies, which had been trending downward. This paved the way for more blockbuster works. After that, in August 1974, the same studio, Toho, adapted The Prophecies of Nostradamus into a movie. It visualized humanity’s collapse with the usual special effects. These two “tokusatsu masterpieces” were the cause of the temporary end of Godzilla films (with the last release being Terror of Mechagodzilla in March 1975) due to their spectacle that required no kaiju.
In 1974, robot anime gained prominence with Getter Robo and Great Mazinger, following the success of Mazinger Z the year before. And after that, in October 1974, Space Battleship Yamato (Star Blazers in America), which would rewrite the history of anime in Japan, started its broadcast. The basic idea of its story was that, in the year 2199, the protagonists had to save Earth from planet bombs from space which had left Earth on the verge of ruin. This setting was also hugely influenced by the end of the world trend.
From 1973 to 1975, superhuman media was drenched in the same kind of upheaval.
Superhuman Investigation Column #23: Okinawa, Superhumans, and Kaiju Crazes
Published: August 9, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
The kaiju craze introduced in Episode 4’s column was the first kaiju craze (1966-1968). The second kaiju craze was between 1971 and 1974, and the third was from 1978-1980. In all, there have been three kaiju crazes. However, there were actually huge changes in the kaiju world between the second and third ones.
The production research of the first and second crazes resulted in the third kaiju craze. The existing situation was completely changed when a group centered around Hiroshi Takeuchi, known as a planner at Tsuburaya Productions and a researcher of Eiji Tsuburaya, in collaboration with freelance editor Hisashi Yasui, published a mook called Fantastic Collection: The Magnificent Special Effects Imagery of the World of Ultraman/Ultraseven/Ultra Q (Asahi Sonorama). It was the end-of-the-year publication in 1977.
Until then, similar publications contained diagrams of Ultraman and specialized mechanisms, so compiling a sort of kaiju field guid and detailing their fantasy specifications was the introduction of a second development of this dream world. It also brought out the scenery photography and gave a behind-the-scenes introduction to Eiji Tsuburaya, the God of Tokusatsu. This mook even explained the planning process, going into comprehensive detail on the involvement of the many creators behind the works, such as the producers, scenario writers, directors, designers, and modeling artists. Its solidification of its source material series as “works worth speaking of” to society in terms of artistic merit was also groundbreaking. This movement of reassessing Ultraman brought on a compilation movie of Ultraman, as well as a rebroadcast connected with the childrens’ TV magazine Televi-kun.
There was another glaring difference for the third kaiju craze, which was the absence of Tetsuo Kinjou. He was born in 1938, and joined Tsuburaya Productions in 1963, creating the basic settings and doing planning work for series starting with Ultra Q, and even leaving behind famous episodes for which he was a scriptwriter. Among the men who created Ultraman, he can be said to be the most important. However, with the failure of Mighty Jack (1968), he returned to his hometown in Okinawa. At the end of the Pacific War, after sustaining heavy damage during the Battle of Okinawa, the Okinawa Islands became an occupied zone of the United States. At the time Kinjou returned home, momentum to return it to Japan was building up, and Okinawa’s return was realized in 1972. In 1975, Expo ’75 was hosted in Okinawa as a remembrance event, and a futuristic ocean city, “Aquapolis,” was constructed for it. Tetsuo Kinjou participated in this ocean city expo’s design and production, but died in an accident shortly after its end. As a result, testimony regarding Ultraman from Kinjou himself is few and far between.
This historical anecdote is yet another that shaped superhuman media.
[tl notes: A mook is a book with the style of a magazine, basically. It’s magazine + book = mook and honestly I could have sworn non-weeb nerd circles was where this word was popularized in English but in translating this I discovered I was, in fact, wrong. And I refuse to not use it, because it’s a great word.]
Superhuman Investigation Column #24: Superhuman Media Moves From Fantasy Towards Reality
Published: August 9, 2016
Author: Ryuusuke Hikawa (Anime and Tokusatsu Researcher)
As mentioned last time, 1977 was a huge turning point in the history of superhuman media. It held a paradigm shift from fantasy towards reality.
In this year, Space Battleship Yamato, which was unpopular during its original 1974 TV airing, got its revenge when its compilation movie hit theaters and was a huge hit. Overnight lines were reported on its first day in theaters, and anime blew up with the societal recognition, for the first time, that there were anime fans older than middle/high school students. And then, in the summer of 1978, the anime-specific magazine Gekkan Animage (published by Tokuma Shoten) was launched along with the release of an all-new film, Farewell to Space Battleship Yamato: Warriors of Love. This time period was also the starting point of the television generation’s fans entering the industry as creators with the growing recognition of anime and tokusatsu as creative works.
Meanwhile, in 1977 in America, the movie Star Wars was released to enormous success (it was released in Japan the following year). At the same time, there was a surge of sci-fi films, computer-assisted motion control cameras were being used for filming, and making-of footage was being showcased more and more. CG also began developing rapidly, and the abbreviation “SFX” (special effects) was popularized. There is a growing tendency to regard the practical special effects of tokusatsu as antiquated in the same vein as traditional artforms, and so a technological divide grows along with that.
At the midpoint of the 1970s, there were programs that used compositing techniques to combine anime with tokusatsu, as well as programs where literal manga drawings were manipulated with sticks, often using rough visual techniques. However, these sorts of programs quickly vanished, perhaps due to the more discerning eyes of the audience. This also meant the end of the TV cartoon age. As we swiftly progress towards an information society and dismantle everything into data, superhumans, as well as their creators and casts, are becoming “real.”
That which is inferior in quality is quickly disposed of, and disappears from history. Have you ever felt that superhumans, as they grow more distant from any tangible “essence” like books, photographs, figures, and other physical goods, feel more hollow? Why is it that the fantasy worlds and their inhabitants that existed parallel to the real world up until a certain time have disappeared? Where in the world have they gone?
The climax and ending of the work known as Concrete Revolutio ~Superhuman Phantasmagoria~ triggers such strong bittersweet emotions. Why are superhumans created, why are they needed, and what do they bring about? Think about it once more. That may be the shortest route to regaining the “substance” of the superhuman.
Fin
Leave a Reply