n previous installments of Giant Robo, the evil cabal Big Fire brought Earth to a standstill by shutting down most of the planet's revolutionary Shizuma drives. Supposedly, this was the key to a world domination scheme--but Big Fire was soon stymied by the energy crisis just like everyone else. The cabal's elite angrily questioned the plot's efficacy, but they were promptly slapped down and told to cooperate while acting commander Emmanuel Von Volger moved his plan towards culmination.
As the series concludes, the impossibly superpowered Experts of Justice, devastated by the many deaths in their own elite corps, give similar orders to 12-year-old Daisaku. As the only person who can control the stolid, silent Giant Robo, a monstrous machine foresightfully designed to use nuclear energy instead of the ubiquitous Shizuma drives, Daisaku is the probable key to Von Volger's defeat. But he keeps balking, questioning the reasons behind the fighting, and demanding explanations as his friends try to protect him from unpleasant truths. And he keeps reiterating the question his father died asking: is it possible to have happiness without sacrifice?
Von Volger thinks not. He's willing to sacrifice Big Fire itself to achieve his own end--the complete destruction of the world as vengeance for the dishonor Shizuma did to Von Volger's father. The Experts and Big Fire are similarly willing to die for their beliefs. A powerful air of tortured nobility hangs over everyone in the series but Daisaku--so naturally, it falls to him to teach everyone how to live instead of die.
Lots of Sturm, even more Drang
It's been more than a year and a half since Manga released the penultimate chapter of Giant Robo; writer/director Yasuhiro Imagawa put off production of the final installment for so long that many fans gave it up as a lost cause. At least no one can say he didn't end the series with a bang. The long-awaited Episode 7 is a blaze of physical and emotional battles on breathtakingly huge scales, delivered with stunning flair.
Robo does continue to be just a mite goofy; the power levels in particular are beyond belief, as the weakest footsoldiers on both sides exhibit martial arts skills that make Mortal Kombateers look like Muppet Babies. And the key characters all indulge in a little more breastbeating than seems dignified. At times the hyper-emotive screaming simply overwhelms the story, just as the garish, zooming animation sometimes overwhelms the eye.
But there's a slyly complex structure underneath the childishly raucous exterior. Imagawa flirts with several main themes, but repeatedly returns to the distinctly grown-up concept that good and evil aren't necessarily so different. At least, not in this clean, intelligent world, where even the worst enemies display mutual respect and mutual interest in a child's honest, innocent philosophizing. Robo still resembles a child's wish-fulfillment fantasy with a cartoon look, but it's a sweet and exciting daydream with a wholly adult sophistication.
