Captain Harlock made his TV debut in 1978, and he’s been back many times over the years with varying degrees of success. The latest incarnation, a big budget CGI fest, premiered in Japan last fall. It’s an origin story of sorts and stands well enough on its own. Those familiar with the Harlock will find much to like here. Viewers unfamiliar with Harlock stories won’t get lost here either.
The story begins with a Matsumoto staple: a town that looks more like the American west than a futuristic alien word. Inside a ubiquitous saloon, a drifter named Yama nurses a drink until a deep rumbling announce a space craft’s arrival. And not just any spaceship. This one belongs to the notorious, hundred-year-old outlaw, Captain Harlock. Yama and the bar’s other patrons seemed to anticipate the ship’s arrival, and once it lands, they head out to meet it, determined to join Harlock’s crew. But Harlock only has room for one. In a scene similar to the Joker’s ‘try-outs’ in The Dark Knight, a brutal selection process ensues. The Captain demands the would-be recruits explain why they want to join in a single word. Unacceptable answers result in immediate–and permanent–dismissal.
Fortunately for Yama, Harlock likes his answer and allows the young man to suit up. Along the way, we learn why Yama wanted to join Harlock’s crew, a reason that at times runs counter to the word he gave to Harlock.
If this sounds as if Yama’s more of a protagonist than the Captain himself, he is. Intentionally so. Harlock is a mythic figure. His stories work best when he’s mysterious–something you can’t maintain when you see things from his point-of-view. The film gets that right–at least initially. In the middle, when it tries to show Harlock’s motivations through flashback, it makes the mistake of humanizing him. The decision feels false, and it doesn’t work. Fortunately, once we get the backstory over with, Harlock goes back to being the badass we all know and love.
Visually, Space Pirate Captain Harlock is a sumptuous feast. The animation is as good as the ground-breaking Final Fantasy movies, and the character designs are gorgeous. The same can’t be said of the mechanical designs, however. The powerful forces arrayed against Harlock fly nondescript battleships that look more like boxes than spacecraft. Certainly, some of Matsumoto’s anime series had some interesting ship designs, but they were never this dull. Sadly, the Arcadia, Harlock’s iconic ship, suffers even more. It’s just plain ugly, looking more like a cross between an giant x-wing and H.R. Giger’s Alien than the beautiful ship Matsumoto envisioned. And that’s a shame, especially since the interior is fantastically realized.
Changing the Arcadia’s look isn’t exactly sacred, the film, My Youth in Arcadia, altered and improved upon the 1978 design, with glorious results. It was big and absolutely gorgeous. It was also as intimidating as hell. If not for the dark matter cloud swirling around the new Arcadia, the ship would just look…generic. If the Arcadia wasn’t as important to Harlock’s persona, it wouldn’t be a problem. But the legendary ship is as much a part of Harlock cannon as the Yamato is to that story. It doesn’t ruin the film, but it certainly reduces its impact.
In all its incarnations, Captain Harlock has been more about big themes and flash than substantive storytelling. My Youth in Arcadia, as good as it is, nearly collapses under its own melodramatic weight. Space Pirate Captain Harlock is no different. The over arching themes are grand and ambitious, but when it comes down to telling a compelling story, Harlock falls short. In an odd way, you might call that a success, because it means this Harlock isn’t that different from other Harlock stories. It means the filmmakers faithfully brought Harlock to the big screen. Being faithful, though, just isn’t enough. This was a chance to deliver a great space saga fitting its legendary hero. Space Pirate Captain Harlock just misses.
