The film opens with the abduction of a musical group from their homeworld—mid-concert no less—by a svengali music producer who kidnaps musicians from other planets and brainwashes them to serve his evil contract-writing, artist-exploiting impulses, ruthlessly manipulating them to win fame and awards. Menudo, eat your heart out!

It’s not all doom, though, as a hero-cum-fanboy from the home planet arrives in his spaceship-cum-Steve-Vai-guitar to set things aright with equal measures of muscle, melody, and downright moxie. He’s the perfect Matsumoto man: the sci-fi guy of principles, heart, and action. His earthly counterpart is an unnamed Producer Charming of sorts (presumably Daft Punk’s answer to Matsumoto’s heroic vision), who—like the spaceman—cares more about the band’s well-being than his own interests. The two heroes’ complementary efforts help save the musicians they love, and thus the music itself.

Perhaps the utopian glimmer these characters provide lends I5555 the feel of a science fiction fairytale. For while I5555 burlesques the music industry for its axiomatic greed, the movie nonetheless affirms music as a liberating gift belonging to all people. And at root, I5555 is simply great fun to experience, and even at its campiest or most allegorical is infectiously vibrant and vital. It’s difficult to resist being energized by Discovery’s music and the story it frames.

For a good summary of Leiji Matsumoto's life and works, along with additional links, visit Wikipedia's Matsumoto page. You can also see the unofficial English-language fansite Leijiverse for multimedia links to various Matsumoto creations.

An earlier version of this review appeared in Paste Magazine April/May ’02 (www.pastemagazine.com).