Chapter 3: The Most Important Lessons of Yamato

An old man’s thoughts 1: Juzo Okita, a man of conviction

Teenagers and those in their 40s and above were the strongest supporters of Space Battleship Yamato at the start. Other generations, such as those in their 20s, were biased toward science fiction and a mecha-loving mania. In other words, the teenagers and those in their 40s and older were unbiased in their acceptance of Yamato.

Yoshinobu Nishizaki analyzed the appeal of Yamato at the time, saying, “Some say it’s the great hardware designs and sequences where they are shown, others say it’s the great music, drama or action. But fan club members insist that it is great not because of each individual factor but the overall feel, or the sense of combined factors that is the charm of Yamato.”

(Kinejun #717, September 1977)
Read the article here

Edith Hanson, who interviewed Nishizaki for another magazine, wrote: “It must be something not only unique, but it has to have an element of surprise, and also be cool, as well as a little bit funky.”

(Weekly Bunshun, September 8, 1977)
Read the article here

As a writer who experienced the original broadcast of Yamato in real time, the appeal was a novelty that could not be compared with other works of the time, and a story with an authentic SF taste. On the other hand, I was strongly fascinated by the visual image of the rusted battleship Yamato bathed in the setting sun in the first episode, its rust-covered exterior, and the visual of Yamato breaking through the Earth.

As if to embody the fan demographic, the crew is divided into two age groups: young people and slightly older adults. The boys and girls are combat team leader Susumu Kodai, navigation team leader Daisuke Shima, and life group leader Yuki Mori. The first bridge staff and the Black Tiger team also seem to be in the same age group. On the other hand, captain Juzo Okita is 52 years old, Dr. Sado is 47 years old, and chief engineer Tokugawa is 57. The exceptions were Shiro Sanada, the 28-year old head of the factory team, and an unnamed middle-aged head cook. All the other crew members seemed to be 18, the same age as Susumu Kodai. As we have seen, the charm of Yamato lies in the strange coexistence of the old and the new. This is also true of the character structure.

As mentioned in the introduction, there has never been an anime in which an old man occupies such an important position as in Yamato. Not at that time, and not often since then. The strict commander Juzo Okita is said to be a symbol of paternal authority. That is certainly true. But what about Dr. Sado, who usually drinks only sake? What about Tokugawa, a old gentleman who is always calm? Yamato is not about paternal authority, but it is fair to say that Yamato greatly spotlighted the presence of an old man’s thoughts. Yamato is a community where the old and the young coexist.

Among the old people, Captain Okita’s thoughts are especially important. “Even if I am the last man standing, I will not despair.” “Endure today’s humiliation for the sake of tomorrow.” These words are the very theme of Yamato.

However, with the exception of the first episode, Captain Okita rarely expresses his beliefs in words. It is a laconic speech that is only possible in the first episode. Afterward, his thoughts are not expressed in words, but rather in his actions and his attitude toward things.

In Episode 2, Yamato is nearing completion, and is subjected to relentless bombardment by the aircraft launched from Gamilas’ fast aircraft carrier. However, while the ship is shaken by the impact of the bombing, Captain Okita remains silent with his arms folded. He doesn’t say a word.

Susumu Kodai, unable to contain himself, says, “If we don’t do anything, we’ll be useless!” Okita only shouts, “Don’t panic!” The camera captures a close-up view of his face as he tilts the brim of his hat. The subtle trembling of the brim shows how he is feeling.

Then, as soon as the report, “auxiliary engine, check complete” is made, the brim of his hat sinks slightly for a moment. This is the momentary pullback before he releases his power. Then his eyes widen, and he gives his orders in rapid succession.

“All hands in position! Start auxiliary engines in five seconds! Prepare to fire! Heavy power line contact! Main energy switch on! Correct tilt! Raise the hull! Auxiliary engines, full rudder on both sides!”

The camera angle of this close-up on Captain Okita is an expression unique to Leiji Matsumoto’s manga. It is not quite anime-like, but is also a characteristic of the early Yamato series. Then, with a roar, the red rusted exterior of the ship peels off, and the ship launches into the sky. The scene continues with the famous rise of Yamato.

The intensity of Captain Okita’s transition from stillness to motion leaves a strong impression. In other words, it’s not that he’s cool, but that he has a lot of passion inside. When Yamato is in a desperate predicament due to the reflection satellite gun attack at the Gamilas Pluto base. When Yamato‘s armaments are destroyed in the decisive battle at the Rainbow Star Cluster. In each case, Captain Okita barely utters a word.

When besieged by Gamilas’s network of space mines, or when trapped at the Orion Alpha star, he uses clever maneuvers to save the day. When an order is given, Kodai tries to gauge Okita’s intentions, but the captain doesn’t elaborate. He simply scolds, “Didn’t you hear me?”

What is depicted through these descriptions is a kind of ideal image of an old-fashioned man, like Ken Takakura in a chivalrous role or Toshiro Mifune playing a samurai. Captain Okita has already lost his wife (the reason for this is not clear) and his son was lost in the battle on Pluto in the first episode. He has no remaining relatives. (A family photo shows a young woman, but it is unclear whether she is a daughter or his son’s wife, and whether she is alive or dead). The situation of a taciturn man enduring loneliness idealizes him as a superhumanly strong man.

An old man’s thoughts 2: The Free Man, Dr. Sado

On the other hand, Dr. Sado is talkative. Sometimes he even talks gibberish. He has no relatives, but he seems to be a bachelor at heart and has nothing to do with sorrow like Captain Okita. His family is a cat named Mi-kun who is alone in a dark and dirty room with liquor bottles lying around, waiting for his return. Perhaps he has nothing to do with women, and is, in a manner of speaking, an oddball and a free spirit.

In Episode 10, Yamato holds a farewell party for all the crew members to communicate with their families as they leave the solar system. It is fitting that he says farewell to Mi-kun as his only relative. He talks as he drinks.

“The universe is big. And it never ends. Even if I go to Saturn or Pluto, there are no souvenirs to buy for you.”

Mi-kun moves around, but is not the least bit interested in him.

“Mi-kun, goodbye.”

Mi-kun is surprised when the image disappears, but no communication is established between the two.

The playful Dr. Sado is like a lubricant, so to speak. He is also a good adviser for young people who might otherwise be overwhelmed by pressure. When Susumu Kodai gets a little giddy at the sight of Iscandar, Sado admonishes him.

“An old man once said when you travel a hundred miles, you must consider 99 miles as the halfway point. That’s where we are now, isn’t it? No one on this ship has seen Iscandar. We don’t know what is there, or what will happen. We won’t know until it’s over.” (Episode 23)

The taciturn Captain Okita, with his heavy responsibilities, and the free-spoken Dr. Sado, with his eloquence, are a stark contrast, but their friendship is especially memorable. Captain Okita is stricken with a cosmic radiation disease that is draining his life as he performs his duties. As he faces his illness, Dr. Sado says, “I’m a man, too. I won’t let you die” with a hint of seriousness behind his playful expression.

In the final episode, as the Earth looms before Yamato, his long journey is about to end. Captain Okita has completed his mission, and for the first time, he feels relieved and at peace. But at that moment, he is on the verge of death. Dr. Sado tries to be there for him until the end, but Okita says to him, “Would you leave me alone for a while?” As Sado turns to leave, Okita adds, “Dr. Sado…thank you.” Sado knows exactly what this means.

Captain Okita pulls out a picture of his family, and weeps for the first time. At last, he is back to his true self.

“Earth. Such good memories,” he mutters, and takes his last breath.

After some time, Dr. Sado returns and learns that Captain Okita has passed away. Without saying a word, Sado straightens his back and salutes respectfully.

This was a different kind of drama, for adults rather than for young people. Up until that point, there had never been this kind of adult drama in anime, with both sweet and sour tastes.

The chief engineer, Tokugawa, was taciturn in a different way from Okita. He was a stubborn man who was single-mindedly devoted to his mission. In Episode 12, the frustrated Shima yells at Tokugawa, “You idiot!” This was a disrespectful thing for a man thirty-nine years younger to say. Later, when Shima apologizes, Tokugawa casually accepts. He shows us a different kind of mature professional attitude from that of Captain Okita and Dr. Sado.

He may be the most blessed man on Yamato in terms of family happiness.

At the farewell party, he speaks to his son, Hikohichi and his wife. (Tasuke, who appears in The New Voyage, seems to be his younger brother). He quibbles over minutiae: “The vase is in the wrong place. The wall hanging is crooked. Oh, the window is fogged up.”

He is a different person from his usual relaxed demeanor. But when he sees his granddaughter Aiko, he smiles and rubs his cheek against the screen.

As Michel Foucault and Ivan Ilyich have pointed out, modern society standardizes and controls all life. Those who are different get pushed into “camps” and excluded. Nowadays, these camps have been transformed into welfare facilities for the elderly. It is not a question of whether the living conditions are good or bad, but rather of whether the “healthy” are removed from their daily lives and deprived of their freedom of action. The pursuit of efficiency is nothing other than the removal of the “noise” of human variability from society.

The Third Report of the National Life Council of 1970 states, “The progress of urbanization has brought about a massive influx of young workers into the cities, who have little interest in local lifestyles, and the expansion of living areas due to the development of transportation systems. Along with the collapse of the former local community, it has also caused a loss of traditional local ties.”

In fiscal 1971, the Ministry of Home Affairs established “model community districts,” which are now being used by municipalities nationwide to address community issues. This led to the current regional policy. In other words, the community had already transformed into a place where people simply exist rather than coexist. One of the precious things that was being lost in the process was the “language of the elderly.”

The community called Yamato is a place where people can live together. It put a spotlight on Dr. Sado, who was like “noise” from the standpoint of efficiency. It said “no” to the trend of the times. This is especially true of the works of Leiji Matsumoto, even today.

If I had to pick another anime besides Yamato in which an old man plays an active role, I would pick Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and Howl’s Moving Castle, both Ghibli works in which old people play active roles. What they have in common is a denial of the homogeneity of postwar society.

I think the works of Yoshinobu Nishizaki, Leiji Matsumoto, and Yoshiyuki Tomino, who is younger than Hayao Miyazaki, are youth-centered communities that come from the pre-rebellion generation.

Yamato was also a school drama

The thoughts and actions of Juzo Okita, Dr. Sado, and other elderly people were also indicators for the younger generation. Teenagers such as Susumu Kodai and Daisuke Shima looked up to them as teachers and learned from them.

After the war, in reaction to the previous militaristic education, many teachers tried to respect the independence of students. However, their education was not always effective. As a result, it led to a decline in basic academic skills such as mathematics and grasping kanji. This is because they did not understand that freedom is not about giving, but about how to nurture independence. It could be said that they did not understand the challenge of this.

In addition, in order to foster economic competitiveness for postwar reconstruction, a shift to “cram-style education” began in the late 1950s, which became overheated. By the 1970s, this shift led a large number of so-called “dropouts” who were unable to keep up with the academic system.

In 1971, the National Federation of Educational Research Association of Japan published a study showing that half of the students did not understand the content of the classes.

(Masami Yamazumi, A Brief History of Japanese Education, Iwanami Shoten, 1987).

On the other hand, the Ministry of Education (at that time) did not aim for freedom, but for state control. The Ministry took various measures, such as changing the Board of Education from a system of public elections to a system of appointment. In the end, teachers became rule-bound bureaucrats rather than educators. Petty bureaucrats, crammed with knowledge and trivial rules. Classrooms became overcrowded due to the disparity caused by competition.

The schoolhouse was no longer a “fun” place for children. In the past, children of all ages used to mix and play outside. However, the number of children attending cram schools increased due to the exam wars, and interaction outside of school disappeared. From this time on, children’s daily lives were limited to interaction with others of the same age.

The penetration of the consumer society from the 1970s onward led to the leveling of everything under the name of “commodity value,” eliminating various bumps and unevenness in society. No longer was there any learning from the elderly, or from adults who were free from time constraints, who used to be found in every town. The world of children became homogenized in the 1970s.

In comparison, what about the virtual reality of Yamato?

Captain Okita is a stern man who tries to fulfill his responsibilities with dignity, even at the risk of death. Dr. Sado, a stylish man who knows the sweet and sour sides of life, is a friendly conversationalist. It is a community of friendly young people with ideal teachers. The boys and girls who led the Yamato boom were the outcast generation. They entrusted their unfulfilled dreams to a virtual reality.

Strictly speaking, Yamato is not a military organization. This is the result of Leiji Matsumoto’s efforts to minimize the military aspects as much as possible. Kodai and Shima are graduates of the Space Warrior Training School. (They are referred to as “Space Warriors” in the movie pamphlet). In fact, there is no explicit mention of this in the TV series.

“Observers.”

“Students in training.”

“Special training for special missions.”

“Students at the Mars Observatory”

“Trainees.”

“You have been specially trained to escape from Earth.”

The viewer assumes from the start that since they can handle weapons, they are probably military personnel. The only example of this is in Episode 19, where they are described as “officers.” However, it is not definitive, since a police officer can be described by the same term.

The original purpose of Yamato‘s reconstruction, according to Captain Okita, was “not to be converted for fighting. It was actually designed as an escape vessel for selected humans and animals in order to avoid the total annihilation of life by radiation.”

Kodai and Shima were trained for this purpose. Yamato itself belongs to the Yamato Project Headquarters of the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (although it seems to be part of the Earth Defense Command). They are not military personnel, but staff trained for special missions. And Okita is a career military officer seconded to the UN project. If they are not military, it would be unnatural. However, Matsumoto seems to have wanted to keep the question of their military status as ambiguous as possible.

In Episode 14, the most unmilitary characteristics of Yamato are strongly expressed. The ship reaches the Octopus proto-star cluster at the outer edge of the galaxy, but is thwarted by a cosmic storm that rages here. The ship is stuck for three weeks, and frustration over their lack of progress fills the ship with a tense atmosphere.

Susumu Kodai and Daisuke Shima are playing chess to pass the time. However, neither of them can hide their frustration. When Kodai tells Shima to “wait,” Shima refuses. The two men begin quarreling.

“You’re a stubborn guy, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who waits too long.”

Yamato could have taken a route around the outer edge of the Octopus cluster to avoid the storm, but it would add 40 days of lost time. Shima decided to wait for the storm to stop, then take the shortest route through a channel that leads from the center of the cluster to the outer part. This route would be faster, even if they lost three weeks.

But he did not know when the storm would stop, and he was not sure if the channel itself was really there. He called it his “hunch.”

“What, are you kidding me? Yamato‘s voyage isn’t a chess game. We can’t wait around for you to be wrong.”

“What? You’re the one who told me to wait, Kodai.”

After that, Kodai goes to check if the channel is really there. He launches in his beloved Cosmo Zero, ignoring his subordinate, Saburo Kato. A strong wind blows him back into Yamato, and he is rescued by Kato. Kodai is severely scolded by Captain Okita.

“Kodai, why did you act without permission? As punishment, you’re going to mop the hangar.”

Kato laughs, but Okita punishes him, too.

“Kato, you’re an accomplice. Do it together. It’s your fault for not stopping Kodai from leaving.”

“Damn you, you old bastard,” Kodai mutters to himself.

The two of them grab mops and head to the hangar.

“Move over, move over, we’re being punished by the captain himself.”

“So are we.”

Looking around, the hangar is full of men who have been ordered to clean up.

This was no different from the punishment duty at school. The swearing at the “damn old man” was more like the relationship between a teacher and a naughty student than the military.

When it comes to teachers and hot-blooded male students, a heroine is a must, as promised in a school story. This is Yuki Mori. She plays the role of a heroine who comforts Shima, who is haunted by doubt.

In the end, just as Shima predicted, the storm stops. Kodai goes out for reconnaissance, checks the channel, and returns home. Shima asks, “And how long is it?”

“How long? Uhh…”

“You made sure we could get through, didn’t you?”

“No.”

Then you don’t know if it’s a channel or not.”

At this point, Captain Okita interrupts their conversation and decides to move forward, assuming it is a channel.

“We can’t act if we wait for 100%. Let’s make a decision.”

While Yamato is busy preparing to launch, Kodai calls Shima to see him. He is angry with Shima over what had happened at the previous meeting. Shima is just as angry, and the two men engage in a full-fledged fight. Yuki scolds them with the sharp tone of a class president.

“Stop it! What are you two doing at this critical moment?”

The two regain their composure and return to their posts, and Yamato sets off. During the flight, the storm returns and Yamato is in danger. Kodai lends his support to Shima’s maneuvering, and the two literally join forces to make it through. They forget their earlier quarrel and laugh with each other. Yuki sees them and murmurs to herself, “That’s better, isn’t it?”

The extreme conditions of the impending extinction of the human race, the weight of the mission, and the harsh battle conditions are all on the minds of the young men. Despite the harshness of the battle, there is a certain looseness among the young people and a sense of tranquility that can be felt from time to time.

One of the many faces of Yamato is a passionate school drama. This is also the reason why so many people have entrusted their hearts to it and become absorbed in it. It may have been a longing for a community that could not be hoped for in reality.

Yuki Mori: bad cooking is a sign of a heroine

A heroine is indispensable in a school drama. Yuki Mori plays that role. She is a beautiful woman because of Leiji Matsumoto’s design. Her personality is that of a cute tomboy.

In Series 1, she has a strong dynamic image as she descends to a planet to conduct her own research. On the other hand, in the 12th episode when Yamato approaches Orion A, which is a wishing star on Earth, she makes a romantic wish.

Yuki is the head of the Life Group, which is in charge of food, medical care, hygiene, and general affairs on the ship. (In the chain of command, she is the boss of the middle-aged cook and Dr. Sado.) On the other hand, she is also the radar operator.

Although she sometimes serves meals, she is not very good at cooking. A heroine who is not good at cooking is, so to speak, an honorable concept. Other examples are Lum from Urusei Yatsura, Kaoru Kamiya from Rurouni Kenshin, Remi from GoShogun, and Frederica from The Legend of the Galactic Heroes, to name a few.

This is because the more flaws there are, the more relatable they become. The fact that they try their best to make a good meal in their own bad way is cute. Yuki Mori is a pioneer of the heroine image, but not a typical Matsumoto beauty.

Shima tells her, “No matter how long it takes, you won’t get better at making coffee,” and she scowls. This is the most important point of her cuteness. Of course, his complaint is a bad one, the behavior of an adolescent boy in front of a girl he likes. The way an 18-year-old does this is quite hilarious from a modern perspective.

Although Shima’s image is that of an intelligent and calm man, he has a surprisingly pretentious side to him. In the first episode, he is the one who first talks to Yuki, telling her that Kodai is depressed because his brother has been killed in the war.

“What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t look well. Does he need some vitamin pills?”

“No, that won’t help. His only brother died near Pluto.”

“I see.”

Then the robot Analyzer appears and says, “I can understand a man’s feelings, but women can’t.”

“Be that way, then.” She storms off and Shima chides Analyzer in frustration.

“You idiot, it was going perfectly.”

He may have had a girlfriend before, so he might have been sophisticated when it came to women. Compared to him, Kodai is not a mature character, but a rather simple man.

As for Orion A, Yamato passes close to the surface of the star to escape the pursuit of Gamilas and suffers from its raging, high-heat flames. After escaping, Kodai teases Yuki, who is still staring at the star from the observatory.

“That’s what the wishing star is really like. Now you know how terrifying stars are.”

But she does not change her opinion. Kodai is curious about the nature of her wish, but she refuses to tell him.

He asks, “Why won’t you tell me?”

Reluctantly, she confides in him a little.

“My wish is for someone to fall in love with me.”

“Oh, that’s such a trivial thing. Hahaha. Eh? What kind of person is he?”

“That’s a secret.”

This episode ends with him chasing after her.

“Hey, Yuki-chan, please tell me!”

In Episode 23, Yamato reaches the Magellanic Cloud. Kodai invites Yuki to the observation room for a commemorative photograph. He puts his hand on her shoulder for the photo-op. She slaps his hand as the camera shutter opens.

When he grumbles at the ruined photo, she says, “That’s fine. It will be a memory to tell our children about papa and mama in their youth,” she says and leaves.

He brushes her words off at first, but after a few moments, he wonders, “papa and mana? Who’s she talking about?”

Yuki may have been more attracted to Susumu Kodai’s genuine personality than to Daisuke Shima’s poise.

Kodai is portrayed as a person who lurks in the shadows behind his hot-bloodedness until the middle of the story. A hero with a shadow and an honor student-type love interest; this is one of the most common patterns in girl’s manga. One example is Terry (voice: Kei Tomiyama) in Candy Candy (1976). This is based on the drama Winter Sonata, the story of a dark hero and an honor student, though Kodai doesn’t look like that hero.

Yamato aired two years before Candy Candy, and other than sports stories, there was as yet no other anime that depicted daily life in school. The secret behind Yamato‘s overwhelming popularity among female viewers in the beginning may be hidden there.

The problem is that there is only one woman among the 114 crew members, which is unnatural. Other women are shown in early episodes, but afterward they may have been in cold sleep during the trip to avoid being injured in battle. However, it is more likely that this was simply a mistake. The initial concept of the story was probably simplified in order to depict the love triangle between Kodai, Yuki, and Shima.

In fact, the initial proposal (Aritsune Toyota’s second draft) included a crew of foreign women such as Jeanne and Tamara. In hindsight, it would have been better to have at least one more solid female character (with glasses) like Hikari Horaki in Neon Genesis Evangelion or Shirley Fenet in Code Geass, Rebellion of Lelouch.

On the other hand, the concept of an almost all-male crew may have attracted female viewers. For women, it is better to eliminate interference in order to have a pure fantasy about a handsome male character like Kodai, Shima, or perhaps even Aihara. Add to this the “beautiful villain” character, Dessler, and we can see the germination of soil that will give birth to Fujoshi (yaoi, boys’ love).

Incidentally, Analyzer’s skirt-flipping is another example of an element that is not highly feminine. Since he appeared in the third Yamato proposal, along with his penchant for sexual harassment, he is not a creation of Leiji Matsumoto. At this stage he is described as an “impolite dirtbag,” probably in the image of a construction worker. This was probably an antithesis to the sophisticated trends of the time. Rather, the final version of Analyzer has a childlike quality.

Gamilas, the appeal of a sophisticated fascist society

The enemy Gamilas plays a major role in Yamato. In terms of a subculture, Yamato is sometimes considered to be the first story that pays respect to an enemy, but this is not accurate.

Jamila in Ultraman, Nonmalt in Ultra Seven, the Poseidon clan in Triton of the Sea, and others had already set precedents. Yamato is noteworthy because, unlike its predecessors, it treats its enemies as equals with their own engaging story.

Invaders and strange aliens in UF0s, were common enemies in those days. Zerotester (1973) and Space Knight Tekkaman (1974) aired around the same time, basically remaining within that framework. (Tekkaman also featured Earthlings as the good guys.) Compared to this, the Gamilas are the same as human beings, albeit with a different skin color, and they have their own society. As a result of this, Yamato has a quality that sets it apart from its contemporaries.

Every civilization has a philosophy; a design concept that runs through buildings, interiors, and machines. This is called the design philosophy. Yamato was the first anime to reflect a consistent design concept in the virtual civilization of the planet Gamilas.

The underground city looks like a Tsukushi (a Japanese plum tree) with many overlapping spindle shapes. The Pluto base looks like a mushroom with overlapping mushroom-like caps. Each of them is designed with an elliptical projection on the side as an accent. The basic color is green. There are almost no sharp points, and the curves and heavy texture are unified. The basic motifs are probably plants and mushrooms.

Art nouveau, born in the 19th century, inherited the European idea of anti-modernity. On the other hand, it was also strongly influenced by the medieval nostalgia of William Morris, the arabesque style, and the craftsmanship of the Edo period. Specifically, the work is characterized by a somewhat decadent decorativeness and organic forms using plants and insects as motifs. This is the utopian philosophy of design that attempted to escape from Europe, which was enveloped in a sense of stagnation.

The design of the Gamilas civilization has much in common with art nouveau. The organic form of Gamilas has something in common with the design of the black iron warship Yamato, which emphasizes a tactile feel. Even in the harshest battle scenes, Yamato somehow conveys a sense of emotion.

Gamilas is a totalitarian state. Although there is a civilian population, they do not appear in the film. Dessler, who stands at the top, is followed by his subordinate generals and attendants. The design of the uniform and the naming of Hyss, Domel, and Goeru clearly indicate that the motif is based on German Nazis. Its sophisticated worldview is based on the modern political system of the Führer, rather than on a Great King or Emperor. Furthermore, the aesthetics of fascism give a kind of elegance to the image on screen.

Incidentally, in Series 1 the name is simply Gamilas. “Gamilas Empire” did not appear until the 10th episode of the sequel, Yamato 2. If the expression “Empire” is a common name like the Third Reich, it may have been an image like the “Republic of Gamilas” in the beginning. Or perhaps the planet name was used synonymously with the nation.

Indeed, Gamilas in Series 1 has the atmosphere of a dictatorial republic rather than a despotic empire. Dessler’s military aspect is emphasized in the sequel, but at first he is more of a dictator with a modern political system behind him.

Dessler’s elegance and madness gave birth to a passionate fan base

Words that describe Dessler are: elegance, madness, self-righteousness and reliance.

The Gamilas invasion of Earth is a national project to relocate the inhabitants from the endangered planet Gamilas. However, rather than carrying out this great project of national revival with passion, Dessler’s daily routine was to do things plainly. He established a dictatorial regime in order to control his talentless subordinates and achieve his goals. He was lonely because he had no one to help carry the weight of responsibility.

He considered the people of the earth to be savages, unworthy of life. Their destruction was not part of his daily routine in the beginning. Fighting against such earthlings, against Yamato, would at least have given him a way to pass the time and distract himself from his loneliness.

In Episode 11, a vast network of space mines (Dessler mines) stands in Yamato‘s way. Gamilas headquarters, upon learning of this, holds a “party” to which Dessler is invited. The purpose is to celebrate the assured sinking of Yamato and to dedicate the victory to Dessler. Dessler thanks his men for their hospitality, raises a cup of sake, and says, “Gentlemen, let us drink to the safety of Yamato.”

Upon hearing this, a fat general laughs out loud, “Hahaha! Praying for Yamato‘s safety, huh? That’s funny. The leader is quite fond of jokes, isn’t he? Hahaha!”

Dessler takes one look at him and taps harp-like strings on the elbow of his chair. A hole appears in the floor, and the general, still laughing his head off, drops in. His colleagues look on with faint smiles, as if it were only natural.

Dessler mutters to himself, “Gamilas doesn’t need vulgar men.”

Everything Dessler does is condensed in this scene, one of the most famous in Yamato.

At the end of this episode, when Yamato breaks through the mine net with a clever plan, Dessler does not blame his subordinates for their blunder.

“I’m the one who was tricked. The naivete of these savages is quite instructive, isn’t it? I didn’t get to see the end of Yamato, but the show was quite enjoyable. Good night, gentlemen.”

He instructs Hyss to send a message to congratulate Yamato on their good luck. He then proceeds to put Yamato through a series of playful ordeals.

At this point, Dessler and Yamato are not equals in terms of serious fighting. Dessler is the supreme leader of his nation and has many other things to do. Yamato is just one of many issues. The portrayal of this relaxed attitude is not only a matter of character. It shows that Gamilas is not just an army, but a huge organization with great purpose, a nation itself.

The asymmetrical relationship between Yamato and Dessler adds great depth to the narrative. Although there is little depiction of his official duties, one could sense their breadth from the screen.

On the other hand, we get an occasional glimpse of Dessler’s personal life, which is a refreshing experience. There is a scene in which Dessler, sleeping alone in his bed in the center of a vast room, is awakened by his vice president, Hyss.

At that time, he is wearing pajamas made of thick black fabric with a high neck and short sleeves with a flare cut. It was elegant and fashionable. Bathing scenes of beautiful characters are sometimes seen in anime as a service to female fans. Dessler may be the first, and it happened twice.

In Episode 13 he is in a rock bath with a wild atmosphere. (It is next to his bedroom, separated by a red curtain. Wouldn’t there be a problem with humidity?) The bathtub is planted with tropical trees, and hot water cascades into the bath. Dessler is shown picking up petals or seeds floating on the surface of the water and enjoying them.

In Episode 23, we are in the same rock bath. A man who looks like a hotel boy in a yellow shirt and black trousers (probably a peasant) gives him a shoulder massage. A hotline call came in from Starsha, and he receives the call on his gold cordless phone.

As the story progresses, Dessler becomes aware of Yamato‘s ability to repel every attack from Gamilas. Finally, he is forced to fight a mainland battle against Yamato on the planet Gamilas. After making his grand speech, he takes command of the battle. When the battle reaches a lull, Hyss offers Dessler a cup of sake, but Dessler knocks it away and says, “I am at war. Don’t interrupt my most enjoyable time with a stupid drink.” (Episode 24).

Dessler’s theme music is also excellent. When the background music was recorded, it was titled Dessler’s Appearance. It is not at all like a so-called “evil theme,” in which a certain melody is played in a solemn tone and gradually builds up. Piano and electric guitar are intricately developed and intertwined. It has an atmosphere of freeform jazz or contemporary music. It was perfect for Dessler, who is graceful, delicate, and crazy at the same time.

An outstanding depiction of Dessler’s personality, a masterful performance from voice actor Masato Ibu, and eerie freeform jazz music playing in the background; the atmosphere created by the combination of these three elements was so strong that it overwhelmed the other characters.

Later, so-called “beautiful characters,” such as Prince Heinel in Voltes V (1977) and Char Aznable in Mobile Suit Gundam (1979), supported the popularity of anime works from the side and played important roles. Dessler was a pioneer in this field.

Gamilas’ mediocrity: the sorrows of middle management

Perhaps because of the hardships of being under the thumb of a mad dictator, each of Dessler’s subordinates has their own unique personality. They are characters that show the dimensions of the human psyche.

General Hyss is a vain and petty man. When Yamato breaks through the space mine network, Dessler sends a congratulatory message. In the next episode, when Yamato breaks through the Orion trap, Hyss anticipates his leader by saying, “It was a brilliant plan. Shall I send a congratulatory message to Captain Okita?”

“A message of congratulations? General Hyss, are you an idiot?”

Hyss is so afraid of Dessler that he does not understand the subtleties of his psychology at all. He is like a fox that takes advantage of the tiger’s power.

When Domel, a political opponent of Hyss, is court-martialed for a blunder, Hyss chairs the proceedings. Domel says, “If only Leader Dessler hadn’t called me that moment…” and that the interruption of the mission was the reason for his defeat. Hyss refuses to acknowledge his point, denouncing him in the name of loyalty.

“Don’t be arrogant.”

He has the common sense and balance of an organizer, not to mention big-picture strategic thinking, but he and his superior do not always get along. In the mainland battle on the planet Gamilas, when he sees Yamato‘s superiority, he asks Dessler for peace.

“Even the great Gamilas can be defeated. To continue fighting would be suicide. Please stop and make peace with Yamato, though belatedly. Let’s talk and find a way to coexist with Earth.”

But he cannot speak any further. He is shot dead by Dessler.

Domel, the great general of Gamilas, is both wise and magnanimous in his dealings with his enemies. After a single battle with Yamato, he clearly realizes their strength. He would try to slowly corner Yamato with careful strategy. And when he loses, he even gives a shout of praise to his enemy, Captain Okita.

On the other hand, he is cold toward his allies. When he is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Milky Way Forces, his predecessor, Goeru, is demoted to Deputy Commander. At that time, Goeru’s artwork, decor, liquor, etc., displayed in the commander-in-chief’s office, are taken away from him. Domel smashes it all with a whip and says, “You have the worst taste of anyone in Gamilas. I’m going to puke.” (Episode 15)

Goeru’s bad taste is characterized by excessive, psychedelic decorations and a daring sense of color. Some of his paintings emphasize the lips. Japanese painters such as Koji Kinutani and Haruki Miwa would probably be his favorites. At the very least, Domel seems to be indifferent to art.

Domel has the Balan base intercept Yamato, but his plan is to drop an artificial sun from the sky, and the base is destroyed. This strategy sacrifices his own men. Domel himself is in command of a ship far from the base. For his conduct he is dragged down by Goeru in the form of a classic tale. In the middle of an operation, Dessler gives him a direct order to abort. This saves Yamato‘s life and destroys the Balan base. For this, Domel is subjected to a military trial. (Dessler decides to acquit him of all charges).

Commander Shulz of the Pluto base is also typical of middle management. He always looks out for Dessler’s interests in everything he does. He applies for Dessler’s permission even for the launch of a single super missile, which shows that he is not given much authority to exercise his own discretion. However, when Dessler orders him to pay for his defeat with death, Shulz shows his mettle for the first time and decides to destroy Yamato in an all-out assault.

“Remember the brave soldiers of the Pluto frontline base. There were no heroes before us, no heroes after us.” (Episode 9)

At this time, Sub-Commander Gantz, who usually carries out orders sleepily, is moved to tears. This is another famous scene.

Madness, courage, and the many dimensions of the heart. Gamilas is a treasure house of human drama.


L to R: Kei Tomiyama (Kodai), Yoko Asagami (Yuki), Shosei Nakamura (Shima)

Kodai-kun is going to die! The establishment of voice actors

When talking about Space Battleship Yamato, we cannot leave out the voice actors. If the script is the skeleton and character design is the meat, then the voice actors are the blood that gives warmth.

Although they had some support from fans, voice actors were more in the shadows than creators at the time. However, it was the Yamato movie that brought them to public attention. After this, they became household names through magazine interviews and campaign appearances. However, the problem of low salaries was not resolved, and remains an issue to this day.

Voice actors back then basically came from acting backgrounds. Many belonged to theater troupes and performed in plays separately from voice acting. Many also dubbed and narrated Western films, although this is now a much more segregated field.

Goro Naya, who played Juzo Okita, gained a stronger image from dubbing Charlton Heston and John Wayne. He was also trademarked as Inspector Zenigata in Lupin III. He still hates to be called a voice actor and prefers to be called an actor.

The late Taichiro Hirokawa, who played the role of Mamoru Kodai, is still known more as a dub actor. He played the handsome roles of Robert Redford and Roger Moore, and comedic roles as well. He also appeared in the British comedy TV series Monty Python along with Goro Naya and Takeshi Aono (voice of Shiro Sanada).

Compared to them, Kei Tomiyama (deceased) had a stronger image as an anime actor. His specialty dubbing role was Eddie Murphy.

Among the voice actors, there were many different styles of acting. Hideo Nakamura, in playing the role of Shima, said that he was taught unique military pronunciations by an actual naval officer. Shima’s intonation of “yosoro~” [“Steady as she goes”] is in fact an authentic pronunciation.

Thanks to their performances, Yamato became a work of flesh and blood. Today, anime voice acting has become a specialized profession. There are few cases like theirs that cross over into other kinds of acting. However, in those days, actors were able to express their characters with their voices alone, and it is not patronizing to say they also had complex shades.

After Kei Tomiyama’s death, Kodai’s voice was replaced by Koichi Yamadera in video games and in Yamato Resurrection. Tomiyama’s voice had a gentle, warm quality to it. At first glance, given Kodai’s aggressive side, Yamadera’s voice seems more suitable. However, it is also true that Susumu Kodai was originally mild-mannered and is dealing with the trauma of his parents’ deaths. This sensitivity meant that Tomiyama would be more suitable for the role in terms of personality. In fact, I think Tomiyama’s performance is more exquisite in the sequel. If he had not played Kodai, the image of Yamato would have been very different.

The voice cast for Yamato consisted of veteran actors who had moved on to anime. The newness of the work was also expressed by newcomers. One of them was Yoko Asagami, who played Yuki Mori. She had played the heroine in Zerotester the previous year, so technically she was not a newcomer. However, her acting career itself was not very long, and she did not have the depth of veteran actors. However, her freshness was a great catalyst for Yamato.

In Episode 15, Yuki Mori is teased by Daisuke Shima about her poor coffee making. She gets mad and says, “Now, everybody, let’s stop talking nonsense and get to work, work, work. Make sure you have a good navigation plan so Yamato doesn’t fly off in a strange direction.”

She says this quickly, but with some faltering. This familiar girlishness was endearing and “moe” to the boys.

Yuki’s classmate-like address, “Kodai-kun,” is also a major point. In the last episode, when Kodai is in a tight spot, she says in a frightened voice, “But, Kodai-kun! Kodai-kun will die!”

This was a very physical performance by Asagami that left a strong impression and became a trademark line of hers. After this, she was treated like an idol, and her idol-like nature seems to have become one of the core elements of this work.

She is said to have entered this field because of her longing to become a voice actress, and she is probably of the first generation of voice actors to specialize in this craft. In that sense, it can be said that she created a template for what future voice actors should be. Voice acting was established as an independent profession, separate from dubbing and narration.

Another important new voice actor was Masato Ibu (then Masayuki). He was a true newcomer, and it was difficult for him to follow the mouth movements of the anime. However, he had theater experience, so of course he had acting ability. Dessler is a man of subtlety with a hint of madness. He responded well to this character. Perhaps no character voice in Yamato is as irreplaceable as Dessler.

“Gamilas doesn’t need a vulgar man.”

“They deserve to be destroyed.”

“They are savages.”

“I am fighting a war. Don’t interrupt my most enjoyable time with a stupid drink.”

It was unthinkable for anyone else to say these lines. Dessler, with his unique charm, gained sudden popularity and even surpassed the main character.

Two years later, Ibu would make a name for himself with absurdist comedy in The Snakeman Show. There was already a glimpse of this in his Dessler role. In that sense, he was also a character voice actor, but he chose to become a live-action actor because he disliked the conditions in which voice actors were placed.

Thanks to the performances of veteran actors, the original idol voice actors and character actors alike, Yamato felt like a completely different world from previous anime in terms of acting.

There is a more fascinating reality than the one in front of you

“Japanese children are not acutely aware of individual deaths. Instead, they should only be able to sense the great unanimous death. Or establish a lifestyle of living with death. And they will need to get used to it and adapt to it. As a new people.”
(Seiko Ito, No Life King, Shinchosha, 1988)

In the late 1980’s, Japanese children generated a variety of rumors. An idol who committed suicide appeared on TV as a spirit. The bizarre final episode of a popular manga (which did not actually end). Occult magazines were tied into a previous life. Comrades in arms (the final warriors) were overwhelmed by the call to gather for Armageddon.

When vacant lots were lost to urban planning and playtime was overwhelmed by cram school studies, children sought an “alternate reality” in another world as an escape.

The catchphrase “We are the new real” in Seiko Ito’s novel No Life King had a strong impact on society. Ito’s novel was a keenly perceptive look at the current state of children’s lives. In the story, children were transformed into “new people,” and adults recoiled from this by saying, “A child does not know the pain of hitting someone. A child does not know the joy of living. Children simply run away from reality. The cause of all this is discontentment.”

However, in a management and consumer society, children are deprived of life. The words of adults, who live in a grey “reality,” ring hollow. Children must reconfigure their reality based not on what is front of them, but on a virtual reality. Then they must decide for themselves how to create their own version of a real life worth living. It started around the time of Yamato.

Games, anime, manga, and other subcultures played a major role as the source of this virtual image. As a pioneer source of these images, Yamato was the most attractive virtual reality. The reason so many young people rushed to the movie theaters to queue up late at night was because Yamato was real and attractive. That is why it developed into a movement.

In the 1980s, it was a network of rumors. In the 1990s, however, some people became obsessed with the revolutionary idea of denying the reality in front of them and creating a new reality to replace it. These were cult groups such as Aum Shinrikyo.

On the other hand, the denial of the reality before one’s eyes is not a phenomenon unique to Japan in the 20th century. In the 1960s, many hippies in America sought a virtual reality they could live in. One of them was J.R.R Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Many were captivated by this tale. One protest sign at the time read, “Gandalf for president!”

It was also the antithesis of the youth who were fed up with the politics of the time, including the Vietnam War. The Lord of the Rings is a fascinating novel, an adaptation of Germanic mythology and Irish legend. The youth of America did not live in a pollution-filled industrial civilization (reality), but in a vibrant, anti-modern world that was alive and kicking (virtual reality).

Space Battleship Yamato, with its black iron warship, is rooted in the same anti-modern virtual reality as Lord of the Rings, and a forerunner of the No Life King consumer society (reality). Yamato created a fascinating world at a time when the transition from an industrial society to a consumer society was underway.

It became a work with a contradictory and complex character.


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