Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am delighted to be returning to the somber yet fanciful Galaxy Express 999, a parade of cosmic wonders imbued with a keen understanding of humanity’s self-defeating nature. Tetsuro journeys across the galaxy in pursuit of a dream that seems to invite only ruin; stop by stop, he chronicles the wreckage of others who hoped to find meaning at the end of the line, their regrets as boundless as the stars in the sky.
Tetsuro’s last excursion neatly summed up the duality of Galaxy Express, as Tetsuro found himself marveling at the strange gravity and endless volumes of the Comet Library, only to nearly become imprisoned by overwhelming medical debt. These exceedingly timely trials point to the universality of Galaxy Express’s concerns; so long as we labor under capitalism and see technology as an escape from the drudgery of our daily labors, we will continue to dream false dreams, with even our ambitions confined within the cage of what the profit motive allows. No matter how beautiful the scenery looks at a distance, drawing closer will reveal those sacrificed for the ambitions of our jailors, the endless ranks of the damned on Mars, on Pluto, or praying to “at least take my child” from the clouds of the Comet Library. No matter how far we journey, the cruelty of this world built on exploitation remains. Can Tetsuro truly hope to travel beyond the greed of mankind? Let us find out together.
Episode 7
“The Graveyard at the Bottom of Gravity.” God, Matsumoto is such a master of fantasy scifi. I’m accustomed to science fiction that preoccupies itself with the nitty-gritty of space travel mechanisms and whatnot, but Matsumoto is far at the opposite end, seeing space as basically a magical kingdom, where trains can run on tracks suspended through the cosmos, and gravity has a bottom where a lonely graveyard can be found. Watching Galaxy Express is actually really fostering my interest in science fiction – I couldn’t have any less interest in “hard scifi” homework, but framed in more fantastical terms, I can absolutely see the allure of works like this or Night on the Galactic Railroad
Crazy to think audiences had this show coming out alongside the original Gundam, and all of that leading into the bubble era films and OVAs. The medium must have seemed so full of promise back then!
We get a clean look at the engine car as the episode begins, which is actually painted in bright blues and reds relative to the grey, mundane cabins behind. I imagine there was some need for a reasonably toyetic engine car, something the kids would want to buy
Kinda funny how non-toyetic most of this is, though. Gundam was constantly introducing new robots to buy, and modern shows are filled with characters designed for models and gachas, but the first priority for Galaxy Express’s character designs is clearly how they fit within its own aesthetic and world
It’s easy to overlook, but character design is definitely one of the greatest weaknesses of modern shows relative to a lot of classics. Modern characters often seem to be designed in a vacuum, and with the primary goal of standing out as much as possible, meaning they’re frequently brimming with tiny details that are both animation-unfriendly and totally alien to any sort of coherent, cohesive world aesthetic. Characters from gacha adaptations don’t feel like they’re from anywhere, or like their fashion sense is a reflection of their life circumstances – they are just loud and busy, and through their preposterous detailing consistently emphasize the superficiality and inconsistency of their world. And it’s not just gacha adaptations at this point – one of the reasons I can’t take Re:Zero seriously is because its character designs are utterly ridiculous, clearly designed to tick various trope boxes rather than present characters who could be part of a cohesive world
“You won’t be able to see the lights because we’ll be traveling at the speed of light.” Maetel offers a slight concession to the vast emptiness of space, explaining that the train will be accelerating greatly now they’re out of the solar system. The hard science is only useful insofar as it facilitates thematic points, like the grand divides between every human heart
Space here works sort of how a child might imagine it – we see the stars as close together when we’re looking up at them, and thus they are framed similarly aboard the Galaxy Express, a tight array of lights soaring past them
We then cut to Megalopolis Central Station, diverging from Tetsuro’s perspective for the first time in order to check on the controllers tracking his journey
A robotic voice announces an accident just where the Galaxy Express is currently traveling. Just as the train’s own mechanisms are not knowable, its journey is only tracked by machines, with no human oversight
Apparently the 333 derailed here two days ago. “For safety reasons, please sit with your back towards the direction we’re moving.” I love it – again, all science is fantasy here. Their counters to the mysterious whims of the cosmos are essentially occult rituals
Maetel explains this as “because the shock isn’t as strong.” A charming gesture towards practicality while they’re seated on seatbelt-bereft passenger cars
Then they break free of the tracks! Some ambitious cuts here as the train cars swerve through the darkness
“We’re traveling through space, so why does it feel like we’re falling into a ravine!?” A gentle, evocative articulation of falling into a gravity well. Black holes are fascinating as fictional devices; much more so than in reality, where there can be no real “contest” with or struggle against a black hole’s pull
Outside the window, they see the 333 languishing, derailed and motionless, like a great dead serpent of the stars
They brush against the derailed ship and our own train shakes, dislodging the conductor’s hat and revealing he has no head at all. Every aspect of this journey offers its own ominous mysteries – and the further our heroes travel, the lonelier it all feels, as fellow passengers and recognizably human train staff disappear
The two trains have come lodged together around car six
The conductor explains they’ve arrived at the “bottom of gravity,” a region much like the Sargasso Sea’s Bermuda Triangle. As in Matsumoto’s Space Battleship Yamato, space is envisioned as a great sea rather than a three dimensional space, with a variety of interesting results, like this proposal that gravity could have a “bottom”
In spite of it only being two days since the 333 was lost, the ship looks strangely aged
Maetel wishes to explore the 333. The points where Maetel shows initiative always seem purposeful – she first went on a solo adventure to visit her dead friend on Pluto, and now wishes to explore this silent ship. It seems she might see her role as a witness to those who have suffered from the Galaxy Express
Ooh, I love this blue-hued shift in color design as they drop onto the ghost train. Anime is uniquely well-suited to such dramatic aesthetic shifts in service of atmosphere, and its best creators tend to embrace the opportunities that creates – like Osamu Dezaki, Masaaki Yuasa, or Megumi Ishitani
In contrast, I frankly do not see why some audiences imagine “realism” as a goal worth pursuing, save as an unfortunate relic of the gaming community’s “more pixels equals better” delusions. Why would you abandon animation’s expressive potential when that’s its greatest strength?
The conductor sends some power over from the 999, resulting in a blinding flash of light. They’re building the suspense well, creating a genuine horror episode
And thus the skeletons of the 333’s passengers are revealed, still seated patiently, awaiting destinations that will never come
Neither Tetsuro nor Maetel can explain the rapid deconstruction of these passengers. Even synthetic fabrics here appear to have aged hundreds of years
The conductor further affirms that the train should have had enough power to last a hundred years
For being left alone for the equivalent of three hundred years, the train’s actually looking pretty great
Maetel reveals that time here is flowing at an incredible rate, and that in truth thirty-four hours have already passed since they boarded the 333. A horrifying concept: being trapped in what is essentially a long metal cell, with none of the necessary ingredients to support life in the space beyond, knowing only that you are aging at incredible speed with every moment you remain imprisoned. You fear falling asleep, lest you awaken as a decaying husk, or not at all
Them splitting this adventure into a double episode seems like a wise choice – horror stories generally demand some degree of suspense, and with two episodes, they can let the pacing breathe for moments like the lights coming on, or the sound of footsteps echoing down the next car
An exterior shot reveals a small craft attached to the front end of the 333. Smart use of a glimmering light reflection to draw our attention to the foreign craft
The intruder is a cold-eyed woman with long blue hair. Though she generally fits the Maetel profile, her beady eyes and pronounced brow give her a haunted, menacing look
We hear a scream from the conductor off-screen, adding to this woman’s air of menace without revealing her powers
The two women recognize each other – the stranger’s name is Ryuz
Ryuz reveals she was responsible for this train’s fate, and that she’s done this perhaps twenty times already
Ryuz says that Maetel may leave “because I can’t get my hands on you.” A line that speaks to either Maetel’s potentially robotic body, or to her connection with the Galaxy Express’s superiors
It feels very appropriate for Galaxy Express that this woman’s weapon would be “the cruel, implacable passage of time”
Maetel abandons Tetsuro with tears in her eyes. Who do she or Ryuz truly work for?
Ryuz states she is taking Tetsuro to her house to live with her, while Maetel simply watches him depart through the window
And Done
Calamity in the reaches of space! Tetsuro stolen, and Maetel seemingly indifferent to his plight! Is this the end for our intrepid spacefarers? Regardless, that was certainly a compelling mixup for Galaxy Express 999, exploiting the doubled running time of a two-part episode to indulge in some lush atmosphere and suspense. The ruined 333 proved as ominous a relic as any found within our own solar system, a stark reminder that the reaches beyond our planets are untamed and hostile, eager to claim whatever victims they can find. Galaxy Express continues to articulate alluring and fanciful visions of the cosmos, all dyed in a grim understanding of our fragility and hubris. Now go save your boy, Maetel!
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