Galaxy Express 999 (Movie)
The Leijiverse, the compiled, incestuous series of interconnected works by Leiji Matusmoto, it something of a "bucket list" series for me. If I had all the time in the world, I'd sit through them just to take in their particular, unique visual style. Though such time is not afforded to me, and every day in this thread I feel like I have to avoid getting excited over a new, under-appreciated, seminal work just so I can keep my backlog "manageable" (I'm going to do my best to avoid looking at Ojamajo Doremi impressions for now...). However, compilation movies are sort of a God send in that area; they may not provide the same authenticity and charm that the dozens of episodes in the full series might bring, but at least they can provide a sort of keyhole glance into their universe and the beats of the narrative.
Immediately, Galaxy Express feels like it's part of a bigger picture. The introductory sequence shows rapscallion children stealing a ticket for the titular train. They manage to best their captors, but not before a small chase sequence where the ticket is exchanging hands all around the station and into the street. The streets, however, paint an elaborate picture while still simply being the backdrop: they're broken down, forgotten, and littered with garbage and the homeless. The little protagonist Tetsuro climbs a fire escape up the side of a building and escalates higher and higher until suddenly the architecture shifts again. The dystopic rot of the base of the sprawling metropolis is capped with enormous skyscrapers dotted with hundreds of colorful lights.
The actual plot of Galaxy Express is relatively simple. Tetsuro wishes to avenge his mother by finding and killing Count Mecha, the one who killed her. Maetel, who's probably the most recognizable character of the series, is aiding Tetsuro for reasons unknown. There's also a large undercurrent in the narrative of mechanized people just being jerks in general. At first, Tetsuro strives to have a mechanized body, since the prospect of an undying body is attractive to a poverty stricken street urchin. The takeaway, ultimately, is that in the process of becoming mechanized, your person is transferred to it, but your feelings are not. They lack empathy, I guess. Though no Voight-Kampff test is required here, since mechanized people pretty much just look like crude robots.
Even with the shortfalls the film encounters, I still believe Galaxy Express to be a worthwhile watch. It remains a memorable constant of the past that represents a production packed tightly with a solid and grandiose vision. Escaping into the dense and charismatic world of Galaxy Express left a solid impression on me when I saw it so many years ago and it continues again with this re-watch.
The Leijiverse, the compiled, incestuous series of interconnected works by Leiji Matusmoto, it something of a "bucket list" series for me. If I had all the time in the world, I'd sit through them just to take in their particular, unique visual style. Though such time is not afforded to me, and every day in this thread I feel like I have to avoid getting excited over a new, under-appreciated, seminal work just so I can keep my backlog "manageable" (I'm going to do my best to avoid looking at Ojamajo Doremi impressions for now...). However, compilation movies are sort of a God send in that area; they may not provide the same authenticity and charm that the dozens of episodes in the full series might bring, but at least they can provide a sort of keyhole glance into their universe and the beats of the narrative.
Immediately, Galaxy Express feels like it's part of a bigger picture. The introductory sequence shows rapscallion children stealing a ticket for the titular train. They manage to best their captors, but not before a small chase sequence where the ticket is exchanging hands all around the station and into the street. The streets, however, paint an elaborate picture while still simply being the backdrop: they're broken down, forgotten, and littered with garbage and the homeless. The little protagonist Tetsuro climbs a fire escape up the side of a building and escalates higher and higher until suddenly the architecture shifts again. The dystopic rot of the base of the sprawling metropolis is capped with enormous skyscrapers dotted with hundreds of colorful lights.
This detail in backgrounds and the probable comment on the sociology of what is "Earth" in Galaxy Express is entirely inconsequential to the story, but it does help illustrate what makes this film notable. It's design is enormous in its scope and its feeling.
The actual plot of Galaxy Express is relatively simple. Tetsuro wishes to avenge his mother by finding and killing Count Mecha, the one who killed her. Maetel, who's probably the most recognizable character of the series, is aiding Tetsuro for reasons unknown. There's also a large undercurrent in the narrative of mechanized people just being jerks in general. At first, Tetsuro strives to have a mechanized body, since the prospect of an undying body is attractive to a poverty stricken street urchin. The takeaway, ultimately, is that in the process of becoming mechanized, your person is transferred to it, but your feelings are not. They lack empathy, I guess. Though no Voight-Kampff test is required here, since mechanized people pretty much just look like crude robots.
The pace of the movie is persistent. The 100+ episode TV series that's being adapted has the duo going to over a 100 different planets, so just fitting in 4 big ones and making them feel substantial takes up the duration of the flick. The characters don't have too many opportunities to sit down, breath, and reflect. It's not hurried, but a lot of the plot devices end up shallow. Tetsuro, by chance, comes across an old woman whose son is somehow important, and gifts Tetsuro the perfect gun for killing mechanized people. The narrative is moved along by these chance meetings and it doesn't give the story a whole lot of credibility. The plot, as a result, feels more like a stringing along of obtuse, albeit interesting, science fiction concepts and tropes. The usual suspects of the Leijiverse make cameo appearances, but without a whole lot of background knowledge to them, their involvement feels hollow; I can imagine their inclusion being a much bigger deal should you be able to appreciate it. There's a lot to the film that would make a lot of sense in its original long format.
The most striking scene is perhaps in it's climax. In a clearly Star Wars inspired finale, Tetsuro and Maetel are escaping the crumbling Prometheum planet. It's an overly long visual feast of the planet being destroyed from the inside and outside. It extends for such a length that the visuals even take on a autuerist sensibility with lucid kaleidoscopic effects and strange negative space. It's a glorious and bombastic pay off.
Even with the shortfalls the film encounters, I still believe Galaxy Express to be a worthwhile watch. It remains a memorable constant of the past that represents a production packed tightly with a solid and grandiose vision. Escaping into the dense and charismatic world of Galaxy Express left a solid impression on me when I saw it so many years ago and it continues again with this re-watch.
