Tetsuwan Atom

This review focuses on the original Japanese version (193 episodes) as released on the Tetsuwan Atom Complete BOX DVD sets and is slightly updated from my previous preliminary review.

Tetsuwan Atom is the first “full-length” (30-minute) weekly TV anime. With an ambitious project devoid of a high production budget, Osamu Tezuka pioneered production methods like limited animation, use of recycled footage, and outsourcing animation work when there was hardly any precedent to learn from. Especially early on, this was in many ways an experiment, and it cannot be viewed under the same critical lens as even subsequent 60s works.

In its most basic premise, Tetsuwan Atom has ... the titular character thrown into various dangerous situations involving human extremists, rampaging robots, mad scientists conducting dangerous experiments, and even alien creatures. While shallow on the surface, Atom frequently contends with complex issues such as coexistence between humans and robots, ecology, war, grief, and revenge. The anime rarely gets too deep into the philosophical aspects of those deeper issues, but they at least leave some questions open to the viewer, which help keep it engaging despite a somewhat generic “monster of the week” formula.

Similarly to the manga, the animated series is episodic and most episodes adapt a single story, with a handful of more ambitious two-parters in the second half of the broadcast. Episode directors and scriptwriters rotated frequently, and the influence of directors such as Rintarou, Yoshiyuki Tomino, Osamu Dezaki, Eiichi Yamamoto and Osamu Tezuka himself in their respective works is obvious. For example, Yamamoto-directed episodes often have a dramatic and sometimes melancholic tone compared to the rest of the series, a penchant which he maintains in his later works and is most evident in episodes 52 (雪ライオン) and 71 (地球最後の日). On the other hand, Tomino-led episodes vary in tone, but commonly diverge from the typical formulaic structure of the series; episode 139 (盗まれたアトム) is structured as a musical comedy, while the popular Blue Knight (青騎士) story, adapted in episodes 179-180, makes clever use of the opening crawl technique for dramatic effect. These episodes, and others molded by young directors who would go on to become household names in the industry, tend to be the highlights of the series, while episodes produced by committee or by lesser-known directors have fewer idiosyncratic and interesting qualities.

Two episodes were notably produced in color, which was unheard of for a TV anime series at the time, as monochrome broadcasts and TV sets were still the norm; one (episode 56, 地球防衛隊) was fully colored and the other (the aforementioned episode 71) was partially tinted for a muted, contemplative tone. They were later screened in theaters as a compilation film, where audiences were able to view them in color. A handful of episodes also have missing original footage. Some were restored from secondary copies, while others (unfortunately including episode 139) are presented in audio form with restored stills and/or storyboards where they exist.

Production quality improves noticeably over the years. Early 1963 episodes, barring some exceptions like episode 1, use recycled footage liberally and motion is minimized to accommodate the rushed production. Still, some interesting cuts pop up here and there even early on, and the background art is generally superior to the average modern-day TV anime, especially in episodes taking place in foreign locales on Earth. It does take some time to get used to the cheap animation style, which makes sparse use of in-between frames early on, though it becomes noticeably more fluid as the series progresses.

Music is mostly limited to a small set of familiar tracks and character themes which are simple but effective. More notably, the distinctly otherworldly sound effects were largely made by Matsuo Ohno, who was featured in a 2011 documentary about his work on the series called The Echo of Astro Boy’s Footsteps (アトムの足音が聞こえる). While he did not have an extensive career in film and anime, his synthesized soundscape of space likely inspired other composers in the field for years to come.

On average, Tetsuwan Atom is not always compelling, but it is remarkably consistent given the environment in which it was produced. Even episode 34 (ミドロが沼), which was outsourced to Studio Zero and became a legendary production disaster that allegedly led Osamu Tezuka himself to destroy the original film, is surprisingly watchable. Unfortunately, many episodes feel “samey” and directed by the numbers. Only about a fourth to a third of the series merits a discerning viewer’s attention. Despite this, experiencing the series in its entirety offers a unique view on the process of experimentation and refinement that took place over the four-year runtime of an industry pioneer, and provides important context for evaluating its followers. Most compelling is the possibility to view the first directorial works of many highly respected directors, many of which are genuinely engaging. I cannot recommend the full series to the average person, but those interested in the history of the medium may find the experience worthwhile.