Naoki Urasawa is a master when it comes to writing compelling characters. He has a real sense of what makes humans tick and is able to zero in on key relatable moments to build scenes around in a way that comes off as clever and effortless. This rare talent, however, comes at the cost of Urasawa tending to fall flat whenever it comes to writing satisfying conclusions to his stories. Of the Urasawa manga I’ve read, it’s very clear that in his longer-running series, he has a tendency to get lost in his own lore and ultimately fail to see his own story in favor of his characters.
So when his manga 20th Century Boys received a live-action movie trilogy, I was a bit hesitant to delve in. Yes, the casting of each character looked eerily similar to their Urasawa manga counterparts, but Urasawa stories work well as manga for the simple reason that they can run at their own pace. Characters can go through their own little arcs without any regard to the overarching story because the medium of manga allows for a different means of digesting a story. You can focus on a single character for chapters at a time, then immediately follow that up with a lot of different characters’ smaller stories while still slowly pushing the grander story forward little by little. Even split into three movies, trying to adapt the 22-manga run is quite the undertaking.
On top of this, it should be noted that even though the series jumps between multiple eras, a big chunk of the first movie focuses its “present” time in the late ‘90s, heavily anticipating the upcoming millennium. To adapt this story while keeping the time periods intact would be to essentially date the movie within a manner of years (if not already). 2008 was a strange time for pop culture in general in that nostalgia wasn’t anywhere near as lucrative a concept as it currently is. And even then, 20th Century Boys’ present time never framed the late ‘90s with much nostalgia in the first place, instead using that era as a neutral point to pivot between the future of 2015 and the past of 1969.
Nonetheless, Japan went all-in on the trilogy, with the first film premiering in Japanese theaters in August 2008. What followed was a spectacular multi-generational-spanning blockbuster that’s equal parts slice-of-life as it as sci-fi disaster movie.
Our story focuses on Kenji—a single, 40-something that runs a convenience store with his mother while taking care of his runaway sister’s child Kanna. Growing up, Kenji was the type of kid that just exuded main character traits. He was a natural born leader with an upstanding sense of justice and thirst for adventure. So to see just how far he’s fallen even after putting as much effort as he could into his dreams is horrendously heartbreaking to say the least. And the idea of failing even when you give it your absolute best is repeated throughout the movie and trilogy as a whole. From failed romances, to rock star careers that puttered away before they even took off, Kenji continues to fall regardless of how hard he tries.
Feelings of squandered potential don’t stop with Kenji, either. Every one of his childhood friends are framed in this very laser-targeted manner that shows their childhood selves as brimming with endless potential only to be currently living as nobodies caught in the system of adulthood. From the cowardly Yoshitsune, to the fat kid Maruo, every single one of the characters fit into a childhood archetype, and yet they came off as all the more innocent because of that. As kids, they never had to worry about their future because more pressing matters like building secret forts to hide from bullies took greater precedence.
The world of 1969 is painted with such nostalgia that even someone that didn’t grow up in Japan at that time could have an appreciation for what was being portrayed. Seeing Kenji and co. traverse their old town creates this very homely and inviting feeling that contrasts well with the suit-and-tie grumpiness associated with the present day. Jumping between the present where characters would look back fondly on tall tales that clearly were embellished upon over time, then seeing the 1969 flashback play the recollection completely straight is always a joy to see and is definitely the crowning achievement of the first movie.
So when the tall tales slowly take a turn for the worse, you’re already primed to be invested. After a class reunion, Kenji realizes that a comic he and his childhood friends made has been re-worked and used by an up-and-coming cult. Soon enough, the gang gets back together only to get tangled in a massive web of conspiracy. It’s a great premise for any story, but the movie does simplify and ignore some points of the mystery for the sake of pacing (the detective character knowing for sure the identity of the cult leader simply on a hunch is the biggest offender in this case).
Additional weak points in the first movie include Kenji’s scenes with love interest Yukiji. While their shared childhood and current unaccomplished adult lives already make for good chemistry, the camera work of 2008 really makes their scenes come off as cheesier than intended to be. Quick zoom-ins of each character as they stare dramatically towards or away from the other just make me glad those scenes are few and far between.
A more major gripe doesn’t come until the last half hour or so, when the movie realizes it’s already passed the 2 hour mark, but still needs a bit longer to set things up for the climax. Upon hitting a significant plot point, the movie begins bouncing back and forth between the present time and a few weeks/months earlier. Unlike the flashbacks to childhood, jumping back in time in these shorter spurts just comes off as disorienting as you have to juggle key plot points that continue to stack on top of each other as they build up to the movie’s climax. An immediate remedy to this problem that was definitely less likely during the movie’s production era was to have the series instead be adapted into a long-form drama. Japan’s live-action television series in 2008 were a mixed bag, especially when it came to handling special effects. But in today’s world, something like a Netflix season or two would have definitely helped make some breathing room for certain scenes as well as help the pacing in general stay at a more consistent flow.
Even with those gripes in mind, though, the first entry in the 20th Century Boys movie trilogy remains a thoroughly entertaining watch that blends the malaise of adult life well with its end-of-the-world drama. I just wish the same could be said about the series’ other two movies.
