Exploring Apocalyptic Themes in Japanese Science Fiction

If Rowan Williams’ quote holds true, then what assumptions can be made about Japanese society and the recurring apocalyptic themes that dominate many of their science fiction and fantasy films? Some theorists believe that the atomic bombings that devastated Hiroshima and Nagasaki in Japan’s modern past continue to influence Japanese popular culture even today. Many of their novels, television shows, and films explore the idea of society on the verge of utter destruction or surviving in a post-nuclear dystopia, often caused by humanity’s own arrogance and hubris.

The motifs of global warfare, post-nuclear dystopian civilizations, and mankind’s supremacy over nature are strikingly obvious in the 2004 Japanese science fiction film Casshern. Using this film as a microcosmic example, this essay will examine how the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the American occupation and stifling production code of the late 1940s, and humanities desire to dominate nature continue to influence Japanese science fiction films and their fascination with apocalyptic motifs.

DEFINING THE APOCALYPSE AND THE IDEA OF GOOD Versus EVIL

The term apocalypse is commonly interpreted to mean the global destruction of human civilization. In actuality, the term is “generally translated to mean ‘revelation’ [or…] ‘from the hiddenness,’” and pertains to uncovering secrets and the fundamental nature of things (Martens 4). While this original concept of uncovering the hidden world as fallen out of common usage, the original sense of the word remains. Many of the images, ideas, and narratives associated with the apocalypse contain elements of revelation, particularly in Japanese cinema. The narrative tension within many Japanese science fiction films does not arise from the destruction of the world, but “from the revelation of how and why the world should end” (Napier 252).

In Judeo-Christian belief, the apocalypse is the final epic battle between good and evil for the physical future of humanity. This translation dominates western apocalyptic cinema as evidenced in films like The Last Man on Earth, 28 Days Later, Reign of Fire, Resident Evil, Pacific Rim, and many others released over the last seventy years. In each of these films, the side of the righteous combats the forces of evil resulting in the wholesale destruction of the old world, the condemnation and expulsion of the wicked, and the ascension of the righteous believers who are rewarded with an ultimately happy ending in a new utopian society (Napier 250).

Typically in American cinema, the protagonist is a heroic figure that is clearly distinguishable from the villainous antagonist, reiterating this idea of a force of good versus a force of evil [1]. For this reason, rarely does the audience relate to the antagonist in these films who is portrayed as little more than a monstrous villain bent on the destruction of humanity. For example, in James Cameron’s 1984 classic The Terminator, the machines controlled by Skynet kill their human creators in an attempt prevent Skynet’s eventual destruction. The audience is given a brief glimpse at the machines’ motivations, but essentially their viewpoint remains one-dimensional. This distance prevents the audience from relating to the machines as anything other than evil robots that must be destroyed.

In contrast, Japanese films with apocalyptic themes are more concerned with humanity overcoming its own hubris, especially in regard to their use of technology (Hirano 98-100). Japanese and other eastern cultures do not share this definitive notion of good and evil, but rather the idea that all things have the potential for benevolence and malice. Casshern is a prime example of this. In the film, there is no clear hero or villain, but instead each character is held accountable for the devastating outcome of their actions. In the end, the main characters choose to set aside their personal ambitions for the sake of humanity.

APOCALYPTIC IMAGERY, THE ATOMIC BOMB, AND JAPANESE CINEMA

The Japanese are uniquely aware of the devastation caused by war not just from the horrific events during World War II, but also from Japan's ancient past of struggle between rulers and warlords. The atomic bombings caused a whole new set of apocalyptic iconography to be ingrained in Japanese popular culture. From science fiction and horror films like Godzilla, Akira, and Demon City Shinjuku to romantic comedies like Tenchi Muyô! In Love, audiences are repeatedly presented with the image of the apocalypse—often set in the very heart of Japan, Tokyo.

This was largely the result of the American Occupation, which incubated this apocalyptic subconscious among the Japanese people. Similar to the American Production Code started in the 1930s; Japanese filmmakers were forced to adhere to a very strict production code during the American occupation of Japan beginning in 1945. Some of the prohibited subjects included nationalistic depictions; portraying feudal loyalty or contempt of life as desirable and honorable (i.e. seppuku); revenge as a legitimate motive; presenting brutality, violence, or evil as triumphant; the American Occupation; characterizations of allied forces as malicious or villainous; and the atomic bombings (Hirano 44-103).

For seven years, filmmakers could not address the heartache and devastation caused by the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The restrictive production code had a profound effect on the Japanese subconscious and many filmmakers tried to fight the code—especially regarding what imagery could and could not be shown in relation to Japanese culture—in an attempt to create art that would allow the Japanese public to express their grief and outrage at the events that left much of their country ravaged and traumatized. Experiencing such a catastrophic event and then being denied the ability to openly discuss and address the emotions associated with that event through popular media left a scar that would mark generations to come.

CASSHERN AND THE APOCALYPTIC IMAGINATION

While the themes may differ, American and Japanese apocalyptic fictions share some common motifs: mass destruction, an obsession with a hyperbolized fantasy of death and desire, one or more saviors who liberate the oppressed from tyranny—often taking shape as revenge fantasy—and, finally, rebirth (Napier 252). Of course, the most common image associated with the apocalypse is the mass destruction of civilization as we know it. This ranges from newly destroyed landscapes still ablaze from the recent devastation to ruined cities long since abandoned, but reinhabited by the survivors of a world that has moved on. This image of mass destruction is one that people of all cultures can relate to due to humanity’s own history, which is plagued by natural and, in the postmodern era, man-made disasters.

Accompanying this image of destruction is the exaggerated suffering, death, and survival of the people in the aftermath. In these depictions, much of humanity is reduced to their most carnal desires. In films like Mad Max, A Boy and His Dog, Venus Wars, and countless others from America and Japan, humanity is no longer civilized or morally responsible. Instead, the majority of people have fallen into brutal savagery: taking what they need, hoarding the rest, and mercilessly killing anyone who stands in their way. Driven by the singular desire for survival, power becomes a precious commodity among the wanderers of the burned out planet. Often, this trait is exemplified in a band or gang of miscreants that roam the land, terrorizing the few survivors that desperately cling to previous ideals like justice and morality.

The band of marauders ultimately gives rise to a messianic figure, who is often wronged by the bandits—their wife raped, family murdered, land ravaged and destroyed, etc.—and thus begins a quest for revenge that saves the powerless from the bloodthirsty. The duality of good and evil is personified in this messianic character who is charged with the benevolent task of becoming a savior, but is motivated by a malicious desire for retribution. In the film Casshern, the protagonist does not begin his quest intending to save mankind. In fact, he is fueled by his own vengeful motives and blind allegiance to a corrupt military regime. In the end, however, he receives a revelation about the mythic figure of Casshern and thus takes up the charge to save all of humanity, including what little is left within himself. Through this revelation, the protagonist initiates a rebirth for not only himself, but the entire world.

The Destructive Nature of Desire

While scorched landscapes and the idolization of science over nature are not unique to Japanese apocalyptic cinema, these motifs take on a new meaning when considering Japan’s past—an influence that is felt not only in the setting of Casshern, but also in the portrayal of the male characters in the film. Taking place in a dystopian world that has been devastated by chemical, biological, and nuclear war, the two main set pieces of the film—the industrial metropolis controlled by the Eastern Federation and Zone Seven still under siege for their continued resistance—serve as metaphors for the destructive effects of unbridled and uncompromising desire that is felt throughout the movie. Much like the atomic bombings that decimated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, radiation, industrial waste, and chemical weapons have poisoned the land and created a health crisis for the war-torn territories of the Federation and Zone Seven.

Like the turmoil that encapsulates these territories, the main characters are similarly ravaged by their desires. At the beginning of the film, the protagonist, Tetsuya Azuma, announces that he is going to fight in the war rather than remain at home while his friends are dying. In a series of flashbacks, the audience is witness to Tetsuya’s new reality, portrayed in stark black and white to contrast the posterized colors of the industrial metropolis. The outer territories are in ruins and the military has begun to cleanse the area by murdering the civilians. These scenes serve as a microcosm of the destruction now plaguing the world, and how the people suffer as a result. Tetsuya has become the marauder, a machine of death for the corrupt military system in which he has voluntarily enlisted. His desire to make a difference has proven to be a false salvation—instead of saving lives, he causes more death. In the end, Tetsuya pays for his transgressions with his life, marking the end of his existence as a human.

In the scenes leading up to Tetsuya’s death, the audience is introduced to Dr. Kotaro Azuma, Tetsuya’s father, and his uncompromising ambition to save Midori, his wife and Tetsuya’s mother, from a debilitating illness caused by the war. It is Dr. Azuma’s desire to circumvent the natural order—i.e. Midori’s eventual death and Tetsuya’s actual death—that ultimately causes the downfall of humanity in the film. Dr. Azuma, like most scientists of apocalyptic cinema, is consumed by his own selfish desire to control nature and never fully accepts responsibility for the role he plays in initiating mankind’s downfall. Like Dr. Frankenstein, his attempt at playing god by resurrecting his son results in the unintentional creation of the film’s main antagonist, Burai. But unlike his literary counterpart, Dr. Azuma actually produces two monstrous offspring—Tetsuya, his biological son, and Burai, the first Neo Sapiens.

As in other Japanese fantasy films, “it is most frequently the children who are sacrificed in a world where traditional society seems increasingly absent or meaningless” (Napier, 255). Much like Frankenstein’s monster, Burai is beyond Dr. Azuma’s control and, consequently, promptly abandoned by his creator. What follows is a massacre of the recently born Neo Sapiens by the Eastern Federation military forces and Burai’s escape, with a clutch of Neo Sapien survivors, into the wilderness. The repercussion of this monstrous birth and abandonment is Burai’s vow to seek revenge against the father and the society that sought to destroy him and his kind. Over the course of the film, Burai’s vengeance is realized and the ramifications of his desire is the world’s annihilation.

Rise of a Messianic Ideal

Burai and Tetsuya resurrections initiate a process of rebirth for mankind, the direct result of the world’s decline and humanity’s suffering due to selfish desires. These two men represent opposing viewpoints of the world’s salvation and are both reincarnated as messianic representations of these contrasting perspectives, but it is a reluctant resurrection. The Frankenstein motif appears again in Burai and Tetsuya’s renaissance as antithetical messianic ideals. Once again reminiscent of Frankenstein’s creature, Burai’s rebirth relies on lightning as a reanimant.

However, the lightning does not materialize as a natural electrical discharge, but instead appears in the form of a bolt-shaped spire that separates from a statue that floats over the city. Burai and the other Neo Sapiens are born from the explosive energy this mechanical lightning bolt creates when it crashes into Dr. Azuma’s laboratory and electrifies the experimental compound the scientist has been developing. This monstrous birth and the resulting military conflict precipitates Burai becoming the messiah for his people. Burai’s messianic awakening is highlighted several times in the film as he delivers his people to safety—first through the wilderness snow-covered mountains, then to then citadel that becomes their stronghold, and finally into battle against the Eastern Federation.

Interestingly, both Burai and Tetsuya seem reluctant to accept their rebirths and return to the mortal realm. In Burai’s final moments, he curses Dr. Azuma for resurrecting and plaguing him with memories of a life that is no longer his to live—a previous life that has been alluded to throughout the film in a series of disjointed and distorted memories. This declaration follows the discovery of the Neo Sapiens true origins—they are members of a primitive race of humans slaughtered by the Eastern Federation for their genetic material. The restorative formula produced from this genocide is the basis of Dr. Azuma’s work and the instigating factor for the suffering that permeates the story.

Similarly, Tetsuya shares Burai’s sentiments at the moment of his own rebirth earlier in the film. Following his death, Tetsuya’s ghost laments his decision to leave and seeks consolation by visiting Midori in her garden at their family home and his fiancée, Luna Kozuki, who is sleeping in the lobby of his father’s laboratory. During his ethereal visitation with Luna, Tetsuya’s body is delivered to the laboratory where, a short time later, the Neo Sapiens are also born. As Burai escapes, he encounters and acknowledges the spectral Tetsuya before escaping into the wilderness.

When Dr. Azuma discovers his son’s corpse while searching for Burai, he decides to revive Tetsuya using the same chemical that created the Neo Sapiens. As this occurs, Tetsuya’s incorporeal form screams that he does not want to return to his body, but his pleas go unheard. Burai and Tetsuya become two sides of the same coin—one charged with saving humanity and the other with its destruction—and, in the end, both Dr. Azuma’s children must sacrifice their ethereal selves for the sake of their father.

The Threshold of Enlightenment

The characters of Midori and Luna serve as catalysts for Tetsuya’s eventual enlightenment. Through these two women, Tetsuya evolves first into a hero fueled by revenge and later into a tragic savior of the human race. Midori fulfills the role as earth mother [2] to both Tetsuya and Burai, embodying the unconditional and unbiased love that only a mother can possess for her children regardless of their faults and failures. This symbolism is mimicked in her occupation as a botanist, constant depiction within her garden, and the light that seems to radiate from her.

Midori also represents mankind’s return to nature and the natural order. Where Dr. Azuma tries to dominate nature, Midori reminds Burai and Tetsuya that nature holds their salvation and coexistence is the only way to end the suffering both men have endured. As she is succumbs to her illness—a metaphor for the hatred and destruction that now threatens the world—her love is corrupted, the men using it as a source of hatred, anger, and revenge rather than as a release as Midori intended. In the case of Tetsuya, he uses his familial love as a justification to goes after Burai and his band of Neo Sapiens. For Burai, it is Midori’s compassion towards him and his kind that encourages him to continue onward in his pursuit to destroy those that abandoned him.

Like the connection between Burai and Tetsuya, Luna serves as an alternate version of the earth mother. Where Midori fails in enlightening Burai, Luna succeeds in providing divine guidance to Tetsuya. In the aftermath of Tetsuya’s first battle against Burai’s robotic army, he tries to convince Luna to leave him and return to the city. She refuses, commenting on the futility of Tetsuya’s vengeance by saying, “We’re hurt, so we hurt in return. We’re killed, so we kill in return. Endless repetition” (Casshern). Shortly after this interlude, Luna becomes contaminated with one of the biological agents that has polluted the outer territories and Tetsuya chooses to abandon his vengeance in order to save her life. Luna functionally leads Tetsuya to the place where he will become aware, awakening to his true messianic potential.

In the village where Luna is cured of her illness, Tetsuya learns of an ancient guardian known as Casshern and is forced to confront his past sins as a marauding soldier when the Eastern Federation attacks the village. In the wake of this latest battle, Tetsuya emerges with a new identity—that of the legendary hero, Casshern—and prepares for the final threshold to his enlightenment. In the end, Luna provides the impetus for Tetsuya’s ultimate evolution beyond all personal and earthly desires.

Casshern and the Metaphors of the Apocalypse

The climax of the film finds Tetsuya reborn once more, this time from true electrical energy rather than artificial mechanisms. As Tetsuya approaches the apex of his evolution, he confronts Burai for a final time. During this confrontation, Burai questions Tetsuya’s motivations for saving humanity and chastises him for supporting an existence that perpetuates the genocide of thousands. Burai calls attention to the hubris and hypocrisy of mankind:

Man is never content with what he has.…Striving for the basics of life, he condemns thousands to death. He fights in pursuit of peace. That’s the world that man built. I’ll destroy it and make a new one. A paradise.…You kill others with the same dream. Did a single one of them listen to us? Did anyone try to help us? To listen to our pleas for life? Only Midori. The only one.…What are you fighting for? If you kill us, will it be over? Will that bring peace? Can a man live like that? You, a freak yourself. Stop dreaming.…If man does not change, there will be no end. History and religion prove it. Can you tell between good and evil? Join with me. Let’s make a new world. You are my only ally. Don’t forget—you are not human, either (Casshern).

Tetsuya has a vision of Midori—who has recently succumb to her illness—as he contemplates Burai’s words. Midori reminds Tetsuya that hatred only begets more hatred. Tetsuya finally shatters the threshold between his humanity and his ascended form when he remembers that he was the soldier that murdered Burai, his young wife, and their child. Tetsuya transcends his human form as the last of Burai’s forces are destroyed in a brilliant explosion. Meanwhile, Burai denies his own ascension by surrendering to his hatred when he once again stands before Dr. Azuma and the leaders of the Eastern Federation:

Should I call you father? My hatred is as deep as a child’s love. Even though it consumes me, I can never let it free. I was born from hatred. Raised in hatred. Just like a human. And your other son—born of gentle Midori—today he is reborn as my brother (Casshern).

In the end, Burai is killed by the a member of the Federation, both literally and figuratively consumed by the fires of hatred that have lead to the world’s annihilation. Tetsuya arrives in time to see Burai’s demise and stop Dr. Azuma from inflicting the horrors of resurrection on their mother Midori. In one final act of narcissism, Dr. Azuma asks Tetsuya “do you know what it is to love?” and shoots Luna in the head and she falls across Burai’s prone form. Dr. Azuma’s bargaining chip—Tetsuya’s love for Luna—backfires and Tetsuya kills his father rather than letting him resurrection Midori and Luna. In this final act of surrender, Tetsuya sheds the last of his humanity. As Tetsuya once more laments his actions, Luna is revived by Burai’s blood.

With everyone in the city and the surrounding outlands dead and the great metropolis burning to the ground, there is nothing left for Casshern and Luna on this earth. The souls of the dead converge onto Tetsuya as he and Luna embrace for one last time. To help Tetsuya complete his transcendence, Luna rips out the containment unit that has been sustaining his body throughout the film, obliterating them both and completing the destruction of the world. As the pair explode in a pillar of light, they ascend into space, eventually crashing down onto another planet. The film ends with a montage of the main characters reborn on the new world. The closing words of the film are as follows:

At last I understand. We hurt others by our very existence. That’s just the way we live. We need to learn to forgive; need to realize that existence is to be shared. We’re not just here to exist, but to find the strength to co-exist. It may start from something small, it may even seem impossible, but we must start from somewhere. Hope. Our legacy (Casshern).

This imagery of this last scene is not singular to this film. Numerous Japanese television series—Wolf’s Rain, Evangelion, Full Metal Alchemist—and films—The E.Y.E.S. of Mars, Green Legend Ran, Windaria—feature humanity’s complete obliteration with only their spirits remaining to be reborn on another planet, usually earth. The message becomes that of solemn hopefulness. Their bodies are destroyed, but the spirits live on in another realm. This is very different from American apocalyptic films in which the apocalypse is usually avoided or humanity is able to find a utopian society for future generations. Japanese cinema completely abandons the idea of salvaging the devastated planet and even the idea that humanity can live on. Rather, all life is destroyed to start anew.

Conclusion

What makes films like Casshern fascinating is what they reveal about Japanese society. Even their action fantasies have hints of their tragic past and their view on how humanity should move forward. Through the examination of apocalyptic imagery in films like Casshern, one can find a better understanding of the subconscious of the Japanese people and how their history continues to affect their lives and their art.

To reiterate the quote by Rowan Williams at the beginning of this essay, it is true that the fantasies of a society have a lot of insight into the inner workings of that society. Japan is a nation that was ravaged by nuclear war followed by seven years of restricted artistic expression, so it is little wonder the path many of the science fiction films have taken. What can be taken from these films is the underlying sense of hope and cultural mindset that, despite everything, they can survive. And the only way to true salvation is through peace and co-existence.

EndNotes

Broderick, Mick. Hibakusha Cinema: Hiroshima, Nagasaki and the Nuclear Image in Japanese Film. New York: Kegan Paul International, 1996.

Hirano, Kyoko. Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema Under the American Occupation, 1945-1952. Washington and London: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1992.

Martens, John W. The End of the World: The Apocalyptic Imagination in Film and Television. Winnipeg: J. Gordon Shillingford Publishing, 2003.

Mitchell, Charles P. A Guide to Apocalyptic Cinema. Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 2001.

Napier, Susan J. Anime: From Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005.

Williams, Rowan. The Truce of God. New York: The Pilgrim Press, 1983.

Media Cited

28 Days Later. Dir. Danny Boyle Perf. Cillian Murphy, Naomie Harris, Christopher Eccleston. Twentieth Century Fox, 2002. DVD.

A Boy and His Dog. Dir. L.Q. Jones Perf. Don Johnson, Jason Robards, Susanne Benton. LQ/JAF, 1975. DVD.

Akira. Dir. Katsuhiro Ôtomo. Perf. Mitsuo Iwata, Nozomu Sasaki, Mami Koyama. Toho Company, 1988. DVD.

Casshern. Dir. Kazuaki Kiriya. Perf. Yusuke Iseya, Kumiko Aso, Toshiaki Karasawa, Akira Terao. Shochiku Studios, 2004. DVD.

Demon City Shinjuku. Dir. Yoshiaki Kawajiri. Perf. Hideyuki Hori, Hiromi Tsuru, Kiyoshi Kobayashi. Central Park Media, 1988. DVD.

Evangelion. Dir. Hideaki Anno. Perf. Megumi Ogata, Megumi Hayashibara, Kotono Mitsuishi. ADV Films, 1995. DVD.

Fullmetal Alchemist. Perf. Vic Mignogna, Aaron Dismuke, Romi Pak. Aniplex, 2003. DVD.

Godzilla. Dir. Ishirô Honda. Perf. Takashi Shimura, Akihiko Hirata, Akira Takarada. Toho Company, 1954. DVD.

Green Legend Ran. Dir. Satoshi Saga. Perf. Jason Gray-Stanford, Janyse Jaud, Takeshi Aono. Sci-Fi Channel, 1992. Television.

Mad Max. Dir. George Miller. Perf. Mel Gibson, Joanne Samuel, Hugh Keays-Byrne. MGM Home Entertainment, 1979. DVD.

Pacific Rim. Dir. Guillermo del Toro. Perf. Idris Elba, Charlie Hunnam, Rinko Kikuchi. Warner Bros., 2013. DVD.

Reign of Fire. Dir. Rob Bowman. Perf. Matthew McConaughey, Christian Bale, Izabella Scorupco. Buena Vista Home Entertainment, 2002. DVD.

Resident Evil. Dir. Paul W.S. Anderson. Perf. Milla Jovovich, Michelle Rodriguez, Ryan McCluskey. Sony Pictures Entertainment, 2002. DVD.

Tenchi Muyô! In Love. Dir. Hiroshi Negishi. Perf. Matt K. Miller, Megumi Hayashibara, Yuri Amano. Pioneer Entertainment, 1996. DVD.

The E.Y.E.S. of Mars. Dir. Iku Suzuki. Perf. Suzie Meadows, Bill Timoney, Bruce Nielsen. Toei Company, 1993. VHS.

The Last Man on Earth. Dir. Ubaldo B. Ragona, Sidney Salkow. Perf. Vincent Price, Franca Bettoia, Emma Danieli. MGM Home Entertainment, 1964. DVD.

The Terminator. Dir. James Cameron. Perf. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Linda Hamilton, Michael Biehn. Image Entertainment, 1984. DVD.

Venus Wars. Dir. Yoshikazu Yasuhiko. Perf. Katsuhide Uekusa, Ben Fairman, Yûko Mizutani. Central Park Media, 1989. DVD.

Windaria. Dir. Kunihiko Yuyama. Perf. Tôru Furuya, Waka Kanda, Kazuhiko Inoue. Kaname Productions, 1986. VHS.

Wolf’s Rain. Perf. Darren Pleavin, Kenta Miyake, Akio Suyama. FUNimation Entertainment, 2003. DVD.