Dororo, Vol. 1

By Osamu Tezuka
Vertical, 312 pp.

A greedy warlord in feudal Japan makes a deal with 48 devils: in exchange for pledging pieces of his unborn child to them, he will achieve his goals of fortune and power. The child is born horribly deformed, little more than a torso and a head, then set adrift like Moses in a reed basket. The warlord’s life continues, and unknown to him… so does that of his child’s. Now, years later, Hyakkimaru roams Japan, searching for the demons in possession of his missing body parts, and reclaiming them as he slays them. Unfortunately for him, he’s about to gain an unwanted sidekick by the name of Dororo.

Tezuka’s artwork is very cartoony, and at times this works to a perhaps unintentional comical effect. Large scenes depicting wars are highly detailed, but all the soldiers bear that cartoonish look giving an oddly amusing look and feel to a fairly dramatic and serious moment. In fact, that’s the case with several moments throughout the volume, generally though the artwork works far better than one would think. Tezuka’s monsters and demons are freakish and weird, even a bit creepy and disturbing in some scenes. And while the artwork looks cartoony, it’s still quite capable of depicting emotional moments. The flashbacks to Dororo’s or Hyakkimaru’s pasts are both surprisingly powerful. Meanwhile the action sequences are lovely to behold. The fight sequences are fast paced and entertaining, with Hyakkimaru’s artificial limbs providing for some interesting moments in several of them.

The writing is light but suits the material. While Tezuka briefly plays with ideas like the exploitation of the poor or even the traumatic effects of warfare, most of the book, at least so far, has been a light adventure romp. The characters and their various back stories are interesting and engaging. A fair amount of room is given over to showing the backgrounds of both Hyakkimaru and Dororo. They’re slipped nicely into the story without getting in the way of any of the action sequences or other stories. Despite being a shonen book, Dororo manages to avoid extended pauses in the middle of a fight scene so someone can recite their life story. If that was enough, their respective histories do a lot to further the unlikely friendship that quickly forms between the two. Both have had endured a horrible event, and each one is the result of the warfare that ravages the land. The dialogue is as light as most of the material in the book. It’s also very informal and prone to anachronistic words, like Hyakkimaru describing himself as a cyborg in one scene, and with his father talking about space aliens in another.

Time to come clean, this is the first Tezuka manga I’ve ever read. I know, I know. For shame. But better late than never! While I can’t really compare this to his other work that’s made it to the US, I can safely say that Dororo is a really fun, really well executed action adventure story. The material should be easily followed and enjoyed by just about anyone, and it might even help serve as a gateway drug for some of his meatier works. Lord knows it’s having that affect on me.

Volume 1 of Dororo is available now.

For those of us who aren’t breathlessly anticipating the nineteenth volume of Fruits Basket—and I count myself among that tiny number—there are a few choice titles competing for space in your LCS’s new arrival rack. My top pick: volume twelve of Phoenix (Viz). Written shortly after he completed Princess Knight, these early Phoenix stories have a kinder, gentler feel than the rest of the series, betraying a strong Disney influence in both the character designs and the characters themselves; the heroine boasts a posse of talking animals reminiscent of Cinderella’s own rat pack. Other noteworthy arrivals include the final volume of ES: Eternal Sabbath (Del Rey), a psychological thriller in the truest sense; volume ten of Moonchild (CMX), a vintage shojo title with enough gender-bending weirdness for three Moto Hagio manga; volume four of My Heavenly Hockey Club (Del Rey), a comedy best described as a mash-up of The Bad News Bears and Ouran High School Host Club; and volume two of With the Light (Yen Press), a josei series documenting one family’s struggle to raise their autistic son.

In the review queue this week are volume one of Metro Survive (DrMaster), yet another tale from the Tokyo subway system, and the final volume of Phoenix. For additional perspective on Phoenix, I encourage you to visit MangaCast, where PCS reviewer and Ninja Consultant Erin F. has posted her ten cents on volume twelve.

SHIPPING THIS WEEK:
Alice on Deadlines, Vol. 2 (Yen Press)
Blood Alone, Vol. 4 (Infinity Studios)
Case Closed, Vol. 22 (Viz)
ES: Eternal Sabbath, Vol. 8 (Del Rey)
Fruits Basket, Vol. 19 (Tokyopop)
Full Metal Alchemist, Vol. 16 (Viz)
Gacha Gacha: The Next Revolution, Vol. 6 (Del Rey)
Gakuen Alice, Vol. 2 (Tokyopop)
Moon Child, Vol. 10 (CMX)
Musashi #9, Vol. 14 (CMX)
My Heavenly Hockey Club, Vol. 4 (Del Rey)
Ninin Ga Shinobuden, Vol. 3 (Infinity Studios)
Nodame Cantabile, Vol. 12 (Del Rey)
Phoenix, Vol. 12 (Viz; reviewed below)
Psycho Busters, Vol. 2 (Del Rey)
Suzuka, Vol. 7 (Del Rey)
Vagabond, Vol. 27 (Viz)
With the Light, Vol. 2 (Yen Press)
Young Magician, Vol. 11 (CMX)

Metro Survive, Vol. 1

By Yuki Fujisawa
DrMaster Publications, 206 pp.
Rating: 15+

Shogo Mishima works hard for the money—unfortunately, no one treats him right. His boss is a cigar-chomping slave driver, his wife is a harridan, and his clients are white-collar stiffs who blame him and his fellow maintenance men for the shoddy construction at Exopolis, the huge office tower/shopping complex where he works. While returning home from a grueling overtime assignment, a magnitude seven earthquake traps Mishima and nine other passengers in a subway car. Though they free themselves from the wreckage, they discover their escape routes have been cut off, trapping them in the bowels of the now-collapsed Exopolis. Mishima proves adept at surmounting a few early obstacles, but as the situation becomes dire—and the group stumbles across a more ruthless, mercenary band of survivors who have ensconced themselves in an underground convenience store—his leadership skills are sorely tested.

What I liked best about Metro Survive was its seventies disaster-movie vibe. In the proud tradition of Earthquake, The Poseidon Adventure, and The Towering Inferno (and, I’m assuming, dozens of similar Japanese flicks), manga-ka Yuki Fujisawa assembles a motley cast that includes yuppies, college students, club kids, salarymen, bouncers, and retirees. (And these are no ordinary retirees, I might add; they demonstrate uncommon strength and serious cajones in the face of adversity. Shelly Winters would be beaming her approval!) The conflicts that play out among them—like the conflicts that erupt among the Poseidon’s passengers or the inferno’s survivors—are meant to underscore A Big Thesis; in this case, Fujisawa is intent on revealing just how cutthroat and soulless a place Tokyo has become, a place where making a yen outweighs all other concerns. It’s not exactly a profound insight, but the class-based tension that fuels these exchanges adds an interesting dimension to a very familiar story.

The artwork is serviceable, if not elegant. Fujisawa creates a distinctive look for each character, lavishing considerable detail on body type, facial features, clothing, and posture. If anything, he relies too heavily on the art to convey personality, rendering the most repellent characters as sweaty, grotesque figures with comically exaggerated mouths and piggy little eyes; it’s as if he pinned small “kick me” signs to their shirts to remind the reader that our sympathies should lie with Mishima. Some of the text has been superimposed on heavily toned panels, making it hard to read; the thick, bold font only compounds the problem. My biggest complaint, however, is the book’s strange odor. I’d like to think this petroleum smell was a deliberate attempt to bring Odorama to the printed page, to help the reader experience the horror of being trapped in an underground parking garage or subway station, and not an accident of the printing process. Whatever the cause, I hope future volumes are a little less pungent, as this efficient, B-movie of a manga shows considerable promise.

Volume one of Metro Survive is available now.

Phoenix, Vol. 12: Early Works

By Osamu Tezuka
Viz, 192 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

Perhaps a better subtitle for volume twelve of Phoenix would be I Lost It At the Movies, as these four stories reveal just how passionately Osamu Tezuka loved American cinema. These early works date to the late 1950s, shortly after he completed work on Princess Knight. As Tezuka explained in a 1980 essay, watching “American big-screen spectacle movies such as Helen of Troy and Land of the Pharaohs… made me want to create a similar sort of romantic epic for young girls’ comics.” He continued:

When I had the opportunity to serialize Phoenix, I first thought of creating an epic involving European history, but then I came up with the idea of doing a grand romance in the style of American cinema. And this lead me to create the “Egypt-Greece” volume of Phoenix for girls. From the start, I was very conscious of the young female fans of my Princess Knight series, and that is the reason that this Phoenix is so different from the stories I drew in young boys’ comics and so much sweeter and more romantic.

Looking at this collection, the sword-and-sandal influence manifests itself in almost every aspect of Tezuka’s storytelling, from the costumes and settings to the grand pageants that unfold in almost every chapter. The principal characters declaim their thoughts in the manner of Charlton Heston or Kirk Douglas, uttering every line as if it were of Biblical consequence. What makes this 1950s Hollywood pomposity bearable—even charming—is the other major influence on these early Phoenix stories: Walt Disney. The character designs reveal an obvious debt to Disney’s earliest films (especially Snow White), while the supporting cast of talking critters (including the Phoenix herself) could easily belong to Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty’s entourage of animal friends. Tezuka even borrows one of Disney’s most time-honored tropes—the heroine with a singing voice so pure she can tame animals—and incorporates it into several scenes.

Anyone looking for the moral complexity of later Phoenix stories—especially the powerful, multi-volume Civil War and Sun—will be disappointed in these early tales, as Tezuka, like Disney, creates cartoonishly villainous villains and chastely noble heroes. If one approaches this collection in the spirit of, say, a musicologist flipping through Beethoven’s pre-Eroica manuscripts or a film historian reviewing an early Hitchcock thriller, however, the rewards are more palpable. In these early stories we see Tezuka developing his comedic chops with pop culture references and physical slapstick; we see him experimenting with layout, as he renders the battlefields of Troy and Rome in sweeping, full-page panels; and we see him creating his first cycle of interconnected stories, introducing some of the themes that will unify the most disparate elements of the Phoenix saga. In short, we see Tezuka’s first attempts to find his own voice as he pays tribute to the artists who influenced his own style, learning more about his exuberant, unique artistry in the process.

Volume twelve of Phoenix will be available on March 19th.

Have we got a Halloween treat for you! In lieu of candy corn and chocolate bars (or raisins—we’re not killjoys here at PopCultureShock), we’re giving away brand new copies of MW, the latest Tezuka offering Vertical, Inc. But buckle those seatbelts, gentle readers, because MW won’t be confused with Buddha or Princess Knight any time soon:

Steering clear of the supernatural as well as the cuddly designs and slapstick humor that enliven many of Tezuka’s better-known works, MW explores a stark modern reality where neither divine nor secular justice seems to prevail. This willfully “anti-Tezuka” achievement from the master’s own pen nevertheless pulsates with his unique genius… Serialized beginning in 1976 in Big Comic magazine, where Tezuka’s trailblazing medical thriller Ode to Kirihito had appeared a few years earlier, MW probes the complexities of homoeroticism as well as the reality of extensive U.S. military presence in Japan. The result is as bracing today as it was thirty years ago.

Want a free copy? Then send your name and mailing address to kate@popcultureshock.com with the subject line “MW Giveaway.” Four lucky winners will be chosen by lottery; winners will be announced in the 11/4/07 Weekly Recon column.

But wait—there’s one more chance to win! Be the first person to answer the following trivia question correctly, and you’ll also receive a copy:

How does Michio Yuki give the police the slip after confessing his crimes to Father
Garai? (A hint: read the preview!)

THE RULES

• One entry per person. Anyone who submits an answer to the trivia question will automatically be entered in the drawing.
• Entries must be received no later than Saturday, November 3rd at 11:59 PM (EST).
• You must be at least 18 years old to enter.
• The contest is only open to residents of the United States.

As a special bonus, this week’s column features an in-depth review of MW. But before we explore the dark side of Tezuka’s imagination, let’s take a quick glimpse at this week’s shipping list:

• Alive: The Final Evolution, Vol. 2 (Del Rey; click here for a review of volume 1)
• Baby & Me, Vol. 5 (Viz)
• Black Cat, Vol. 11 (Viz)
• Boy Princess, Vol. 9 (NETCOMICS; click here for a review of volume 1)
• Chinese Hero: Tales of the Blood Sword, Vol. 3 (DrMaster)
• Click, Vol. 4 (NETCOMICS)
• D. Gray-Man, Vol. 7 (Viz)
• Gin Tama, Vol. 3 (Viz; click here for a review of volume 1)
• Godchild, Vol. 7 (Viz; click here for a review of volume 3)
• Gold Digger, #89 (Antarctic Press)
• Gold Digger Sourcebook: The Official Guide to the Gold Digger Universe, #10 (Antarctic Press)
• Gon, Vol. 2 (CMX)
• Hunter X Hunter, Vol. 17 (Viz)
• Kaze Hikaru, Vol. 7 (Viz; click here for a review of volume 5)
• Kitchen Princess, Vol. 4 (Del Rey)
• Kurohime, Vol. 2 (Viz; click here for a review of volume 1)
• Land of Silver Rain, Vol. 7 (NETCOMICS)
• Let Dai, Vol. 9 (NETCOMICS)
• Love*Com, Vol. 3 (Viz; click here for reviews of volumes 1 and 2)
• Manga Sisters (Manga University)
• Naruto, Vol. 22 (Viz)
• Naruto, Vol. 23 (Viz)
• Naruto, Vol. 24 (Viz)
• Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind: Watercolor Impressions (Viz)
• NewType USA, November 2007
• Ninja High School, #154 (Antarctic Press)
• Nodame Cantabile, Vol. 11 (Del Rey)
• One Piece, Vol. 16 (Viz)
• Operation Liberate Men, Vol. 1 (NETCOMICS)
• Parasyte, Vol. 2 (Del Rey)
• Pichi Pichi Pitch, Vol. 7 (Del Rey)
• Pirates vs. Ninjas II: Up the Ante, #4 (Antarctic Press)
• Prince of Tennis, Vol. 22 (Viz)
• Psycho Busters, Vol. 1 (Del Rey)
• SA, Vol. 1 (Viz)
• Samurai Commando: Mission 1549, Vol. 2 (CMX; click here for a review of volume 1)
• Shonen Jump, December 2007
• Skip-Beat, Vol. 9 (Viz)
• Sky Sharks, #3 (Antarctic Press)
• Tezuka’s MW (Vertical, Inc.)
• Translucent, Vol. 2 (Dark Horse)
• Tsubasa, Vol. 15 (Del Rey)
• Ultimate Muscle, Vol. 18 (Viz)
• Yagyu Ninja Scrolls, Vol. 1 (Del Rey)
• Yu-Gi-Oh GX, Vol. 1 (Viz)

MW

By Osamu Tezuka
Vertical, Inc., 582 pp.
Rating: 16+

Invoke Tezuka’s name, and most readers immediately think of Astro Boy, Buddha, and Princess Knight. But there’s a darker side to Tezuka’s oeuvre that dates back to 1953, the year in which he brought Dostoevsky’s tormented Raskolnikov to life in a manga-fied version of Crime and Punishment. It’s this side of Tezuka—the side that acknowledges the human capacity for violence, greed, and deception—that’s on display in MW, a twisty thriller about a sociopath and the priest who loves him.

The central event of MW is a military cover-up. “Nation X,” which maintains a base on Okinawa Mafune, has been stockpiling a top-secret chemical weapon known as MW.¹ An explosion releases a poisonous cloud, killing everyone on the island except for two visitors, Iwao Garai and Michio Yuki. Though Garai and Yuki are equally traumatized by this holocaust, their lives diverge wildly over the next fifteen years. Garai embraces the light, becoming a Roman Catholic priest, while Yuki embraces the darkness, embarking on a spree of kidnappings, murders, and extortion schemes meant to punish the politicians, businessmen, and military officials who profited from the subsequent cover-up.

Superficially, Yuki’s plans might be understood as an eye for an eye. But Yuki is no righteous avenger. He’s a serial killer who relishes torturing his victims, who exploits the secrecy of the confessional to torment Garai with details of his crimes, who uses his androgynous sex appeal to seduce both men and women, and who impersonates his female victims with the skill of a kabuki actor. (And just in case we haven’t yet grasped the true extent of Yuki’s depravity, Tezuka suggests that Yuki has a rather intimate bond with his dog Tomoe.) Even Yuki’s motivation for exposing the MW scandal is purely selfish: Yuki is dying from its lingering effects, and wishes to take millions of people with him to the grave. Though Father Garai hopes to redeem Yuki, he lacks Yuki’s certitude, instead violating his priestly vows (especially that pesky oath of celibacy) as he tries to prevent Yuki from harming anyone else.

MW can certainly be enjoyed as a political potboiler. Tezuka spins an entertaining, slightly preposterous yarn, serving up more plot twists, car chases, and gender-bending costume changes than Dressed to Kill and The Manchurian Candidate combined. But it’s also very talky. Characters frequently describe their plans at length instead of just carrying them out; voice-overs interrupt the action to educate us on the history of chemical warfare; and thought balloons reveal little about the interior lives of the characters that couldn’t be inferred from their actions.

MW can be more profitably understood as a meditation on US-Japanese relations during the Vietnam War. The gas attack takes place around 1960, the year the Japanese Diet ratified the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security², while most of the action takes place in the 1970s, as left-wing student groups were taking to the streets to protest American military presence in Japan. Though MW does include a few demonstrations, Tezuka doesn’t try to dramatize the left wing’s activities so much as the spirit of the movement: “Debunk false democracy!” The politicians in MW are greedy, foolish, and entirely too cozy with “Nation X” military brass. Yet the student radicals don’t fare so well, either; Tezuka renders them as an ineffectual lot whose agenda is riddled with inconsistencies. Only in the ambivalent Father Garai, who desperately wishes to enlighten the public about MW, does Tezuka present a decent, sympathetic figure, someone struggling mightily against hypocrisy and deceit, even as he succumbs to his own demons.

Of course, there’s another level on which MW can be appreciated: the artwork. MW is Tezuka at his most restrained; there are no doe-eyed critters, no slapstick, no characters breaking the fourth wall to crack wise about cartooning conventions. There are a few moments of playfulness. In one memorable sequence (reminiscent of the grand parade in Cleopatra), Yuki impersonates the great gorgons of Aubrey Beardsley’s work: Salome admiring the head of John the Baptist, the Lady in the Peacock Skirt. But most of the pages are much more direct and less cartoonishly exuberant. Those moments when Tezuka thinks outside the grid are extraordinary, however. He never shows us the initial catastrophe as it happens; he shows us only what Garai and Yuki see after the cloud has dissipated: a mosaic of faces, each contorted into a grotesque death-mask and framed in a small, oddly-shaped panel. It’s a potent, haunting moment that forces the reader to ask herself, what would I do if confronted by such devastation?

Fans of Apollo’s Song, Buddha, and Ode to Kirihito won’t be surprised to learn that Vertical has done a fine job of showcasing Tezuka’s work with a crisp translation, quality binding, and signature Chip Kidd dustjacket. MW won’t be everyone’s cup of green tea, but if the thought of Tezuka channeling Brian DePalma and John Frankenheimer sounds appealing, you’ll want to add it to your library.

¹ MW is pronounced “moo.”
² The treaty reaffirmed the US military’s commitment to defending Japan against hostile forces, pledged to return captured territories, and extended the US occupation of Okinawa for an additional ten years.

MW will be available on October 30, 2007.