s a small child, Tetsuro dreamed of boarding the legendary Galaxy Express 999, the interstellar train to Andromeda, where humans receive free "machine bodies" and become immortal. But the dream became an obsession when the vicious machine-man Count Mecha slaughtered Tetsuro's mother in a trophy-hunt. Tetsuro became monomaniacal in his need to upgrade himself, gaining the power to kill the Count and avenge his mother.
Tetsuro is offered the chance to fulfill his dream in Viz's refurbished
Galaxy Express 999, the classic 1979 adaptation of a manga
series by Leiji Matsumoto (Star Blazers). A mysterious blonde
named Maetel offers Tetsuro a 999 ticket, on the condition that they travel
together. The lengthy trip quickly becomes both a metaphor for life and an
object lesson, as Tetsuro eagerly heads out to get his new (or,
symbolically, "adult") body, but begins to learn that the leap from human
to machine has hidden psychological costs. There's a detailed adventure
waiting at every train stop, from Titan to Pluto and beyond, and even when
those are dealt with, there's still Mecha--not to mention Maetel's
ulterior motives.
The sequel, Adieu Galaxy Express 999 (1981) opens two years
after the first film's end. Earth (and seemingly the rest of the universe)
has become a burning battlefield in the fight between organic and machine
life. And Tetsuro, caught in the middle of the war, is called back to the
999 to fight all the same fights again.
We get the points...all of them...several times each
This ponderous but exciting space opera doesn't always meet its intended
goals. The central metaphor--Tetsuro's train journey as a multifaceted
coming-of-age pilgrimage--continually shines through the massive welter
of plot twists. (Just to make absolutely sure, there are many overwrought
monologues about the beauty of youth, the pain of growing, etc.)
But the moral messages are muddled. Tetsuro's initial dilemma is a
beautifully crafted paradox--if he takes on a machine body to avenge his
mother, he may become as inhuman as her killer--but the plotline saves
him from having to make the decision himself. His growing maturity and the choices he makes are critical to the plot, but once he learns to choose, he repeatedly denies others the same right.
The story line is as convoluted as its lessons. The first of these films stands firmly on its own, with a solid, gripping, action-packed quest tale that wanders considerably in its movement toward the symbolic Holy Grail. Adieu just makes things more confusing, with a massively unnecessary reiteration of battles fought quite satisfactorily in the first movie. Both become even more complex with the addition of a handful of subplots and characters dragged in from the classic Captain Harlock anime series. (It's not critical to bone up on Captain Harlock's history--but it certainly does help.)
The train-trip as spiritual journey motif isn't new to anime--Night on the Galactic Railroad, a quiet fantasy film based on a 1927 literary classic, covered this same ground in a far more refined and
restrained style. But Night can't match Galaxy Express for color, energy or textual complexity. Very little anime
could.