The movie takes place in Victorian England in 1866 (yes, Queen Victoria has a cameo). The plot centers around a steamball capable of generating power equal to a small nuclear reactor and the proper use of this breakthrough technology. This is represented by an intergenerational conflict within the Steam family: the eldest Steam, Lloyd, deranged by seeing his invention put to evil use; his son, Eddie, half-man/half-machine who—taking a Nietzschean viewpoint—sees the steamball as an opportunity to demonstrate science’s power and push humanity to new heights; and Eddie’s 13-year-old son, Ray, who is caught in the middle trying to save both London and his family from the consequences of their invention. And, of course, there are the inevitable additional complications: a corrupt corporation named the O’Hara Foundation, as well as the British government, would like to use the steamball.

Otomo uses the Steams to present different perspectives on the use of science: Eddie personifies science for science’s sake without any moral or ethical considerations; the opposing view, represented by Lloyd, suggests that science must consider the moral and ethical impact, and that science should be restricted if it leads to a negative outcome. Ray Steam demonstrates concern for both his father and grandfather. Steamboy’s characters are not sharply black and white, however. Eddie, though misguided, is not evil personified, and Lloyd—rather than providing the calm voice of reason—is instead an scientific devotee whose vision seems as extreme as his son’s. Otomo allows these characters to espouse their beliefs, often through lengthy monologues, but he ultimately leaves the viewer to make up his or her own mind on the issue.

The film’s main strength are its visuals. (At a cost of $20 million, Steamboy is the most expensive animated movie ever produced outside the United States.) I enjoyed how actual historic events and places composed the movie’s backdrop. Some of the action takes place in Manchester, with a darkly magnificent panorama showing—in Dickens’s words—“satanic mills” dominating the city, spewing black smoke into the air. Otomo modeled the fictional O’Hara Foundation Pavilion after Royal Albert Hall and recreated London’s Crystal Palace—destroyed by fire in 1936—which housed the 1866 Great Exhibition. Otomo and his team displayed great imagination in combining the film’s futuristic elements with an overall 19th-century appearance and mechanical design.

Steamboy is not a perfect film. While the visuals are detailed, gorgeous, and historically accurate, the plot is convoluted (a critical complaint often leveled at Akira); the action sometimes moves too fast; the characters remain more symbolic than developed. Otomo’s latest work, though, is thought-provoking and worth seeing for the mental ride on which it will take you. The only question is whether or not it will be another 16 years before we see something new and—generally speaking—astounding by Otomo. As one of Steamboy’s Amazon.com reviews notes, “Otomo has now perfected both Cyberpunk and Steampunk. Where [to] next?” While I can’t quite speak to the former sentiment, whereto indeed?

Katsuhiro Otomo, in addition to the man known as “Japan’s Walt Disney”—Hayao Miyazaki (Nausicaa, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle)—is perhaps the best-known anime director in North America, thanks to Akira’s success. For more about Otomo, visit the following site for information about his life and development as an artist and animator: The Encyclopedia of Fantastic Film and Television. Entertainment Weekly also provides a unified link to its reviews, previews, and interviews with Otomo—but you must be a subscriber of EW in order to obtain full access.

By Michael Kim (guest writer)