atlabor 1: The Movie opens on two different mysteries--a brief, dramatic suicide and an even more dramatic combat, cut into a jagged montage and mixed with the credits. The combat is explained in relatively short order--a mobile armored suit, or "Labor," has gone berserk and escaped its testing facility, forcing the Army to chase it down and destroy it. The suicide's relevance is part of a much deeper problem that links the army's runaway mecha to the Patrol Labor division of the Tokyo Police.
The military mecha isn't the first to run amuck and it won't be the last. But Tokyo's government refuses to openly acknowledge the problem. Nearly 45 percent of Japan's Labor force is in the city, hard at work on "The Babylon Project": a pair of massive artificial islands designed to solve Toyko's land shortage. A problem with the Labors would mean a problem with the ongoing construction, which would imply a problem with the government's expensive and ambitious scheme. So the issue is kept quiet, and the Patlabor team is forced to deal with it under the table.
The brunt of the investigative burden falls on Patlabor operative Azuma Shinohara, whose father's industrial company has recently installed a new high-efficiency operating system in Labors across Japan. Circumstantial evidence suggests the HOS is linked to the berserker problem, but figuring out how and why is problematic, especially with no official sanction for the investigation.
The Patlabor TV series
is normally an ensemble show, but this pensive theatrical feature focuses almost exclusively on Azuma and mentor Captain Goto, and on the outside forces they're chasing. Nominal series star Noa Izumi is relatively inconspicuous, mostly showing up to nurture Azuma or to function as a sounding board for his theories. Even battle-crazed comic relief Isao Ota only pops up for a few screamed lines.
One story, two takes
Patlabor 1: The Movie is one of a number of long-backlisted titles that Manga Entertainment is only now releasing on DVD. The DVD bonuses are negligible--trailers and ads for other Manga products. But the DVD's hybrid tracks make it possible to hear the dubbed soundtrack while reading the subtitles, which leads to some interesting discoveries.
The two versions tell the same story, but in a sharply different manner.
The dub almost always has more information, more profanity, and more speculation. It takes events seriously where the sub takes them lightly; it makes dramatic gestures even out of comedy relief. The characters in the dub have more of a verbal edge and are more prone to abuse each other. But occasionally the dub simply glosses over a vastly revelatory block of information that the sub presents sparingly and directly. Watching both versions is like watching a movie and then reading the novel it was based on; neither version is necessarily superior, but both offer vastly different rewards.
Translation aside, both versions of this movie are dark, creepy (thanks in part to a discordant, insinuating score) and strongly reminiscent of Alien(s) in their concentration on barren, fantastically detailed industrial spaces that evoke a sense of desolation and impending destruction. The Patlabor regulars that do appear are thinly characterized, mere cogs in the service of a somberly intellectual story that proceeds with the ruthless efficiency of a machine. Far from the usual cowboys-and-Indians action of anime thrillers, this movie is about a war against a dead man's legacy. The unbalanced action, lacking a clear villain, lends to the film's weighty realism and adult gravity.
All in all, this is a perfect vehicle for director Mamoru Oshii, whose Ghost in the Shell was similarly detached, dark and uniquely brilliant. From the heavy, ponderous unfolding of the plot to the lengthy introspective dialogues, this is anime designed for the thinking crowd who made Patlabor popular in the first place.
