“Many people are God, usually in a universe no bigger than their own minds, all-present, all-knowing. And yet, impotent outside the confines of their heads. And what God cannot do, men will attempt.”
–Shigeki Arakawa, spy

Still my favorite anime, Patlabor 2 is Mamoru Oshii’s moody masterpiece, a far more disciplined and satisfying work than the intriguing but occassionally juvenile fetish-fest Ghost in the Shell. A political thriller that starts at the foot of the grinning ruins of Angkor Wat and ends upon a wistful “The kids are allright” line of dialog, Patlabor 2 is a frighteningly plausible tale of disillusionment and nihilistic nationalism. Repeated viewings will reap rewards as you note the influence of Hitchcock, Philip K Dick, Frankenheimer, and James Joyce’s “The Dead”. Grim yet optimistic, Patlabor 2 is the ultimate 1990s period piece, created by and for political paranoids who still have a little hope for humanity.

The plot is fairly complex, yet not convoluted. Feeling betrayed after a horribly botched UN military operation, Patlabor (giant mecha robot) pilot Tsuge plots a mind-boggling revenge–nothing less than a coup d’état of the Japanese government. How Tsuge goes about it is so meta it’s not even funny; 1993′s Patlabor 2 hasn’t aged a day, and grows distressingly more relevant. Tsuge’s puppet-mastery eventually pits the Tokyo Police Department and the civilian government against the Self Defense Force, and both sides don’t even realize they’re about to start a civil war. While politicians dither and order-following soldiers and police lock ‘n’ load, the scrappy and much abused Special Vehicles Division (the Tokyo Patlabor police) race to stop Tsgue’s revenge.

The stunning visuals, unlike a lot of anime out there, is not eye candy for eye candy’s sake. There is a deliberate, cryptic series of images involving bird images, gently falling snow, and general bewilderment. The heartbreaking surreality of grinning and laughing civilians as tanks roll down the Tokyo streets can be seen as the general idiocy, or general optimism, of the public at large. Through each mind-blowing set piece, Tsuge plays his deadly chess game brilliantly, outwitting the SVD at every move as he disrupts and manipulates Japan’s media outlets, military installations, and bumbling bureaucracy.

The dialog is sharp and often dense and philosophical; this is one anime that I would definitely recommend the English dubbed version. (The voice actors are great, and you can be rest assured there is no screechy screeds or wooden recitals). The lines are often delivered at a leisurely, paused-filled pace, as the characters struggle to understand the confusing events that are spinning out of control. Patlabor 2 is topped off with a driving and haunting score by Kenji Kawai, who later wrote the superb score for Ghost in the Shell. Patlabor 2, in its way, can stand alone, though watching the excellent (though nowhere near as amazing) Patlabor 1 will definitely make this film easier to follow and appreciate.

Patlabor 2 is a triumph in technical execution, character design, and thematic development. Most critics intepret Patlabor 2 as a reflection of Oshii’s angst over Japan’s changing political situation in the early 1990s, but I believe the film’s themes run far deeper than that. As we continue to grapple with what it means to have a democracy–are we really freely choosing our leaders, or is it all a dog and pony show?–Patlabor 2 remains a beguiling cautionary tale offering no solutions, other than we can only hope someone heroic, suicidal, and totally lacking in ego will step up to save us from ourselves…since we’re too busy looking at the pretty pictures on our glowing screens.

Tags: kenji kawai, mamoru oshii, oshii, patlabor, patlabor 2

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