Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am absolutely thrilled to be returning to Galaxy Express 999, and continuing the journey of the intrepid Tetsuro and mysterious Maetel. Though the anime community at large tends to be interested only in following the latest and flashiest of productions, my excursions into classic anime have regularly proven the most rewarding of all, with Galaxy Express 999 already establishing a place of honor among my ongoing projects. In fact, I’m enjoying the show so much that I actually munched through the first five funded episodes all in a row, meaning I’m now returning to the express for the first time in months.

When last we left off, Tetsuro and Maetel had just escaped the icy planes of Pluto, a cold and lonely planet harboring the bodies of those who could never escape the solar system, or who did so only by leaving their old shells behind. Many travelers in this world seem desperate for the eternity of a metal body, but our representative cyborgs seem no happier than our flesh-and-blood humans, most of them craving a return to the bodies they once discarded. Happiness is elusive in this world, a hope we pin on distant stars, knowing only that this planet holds nothing but regrets. And so the express journeys from station to station, each new destination reiterating the capitalist barbarism of society and the insatiable emptiness of the human heart. Shall we take our seats?

Episode 6

Coming back to this show after a long break, I can all the more fully appreciate the tone-setting effect of its opening. The clank of the wheels, the chugging of the engine – the show works hard from the start to set you right there beside Tetsuro, peering out the train window and wondering what’s coming down the tracks

“The most beautiful yet fleeting thing in this galaxy would undoubtedly be the comet.” An establishing line that emphasizes a common refrain in this show: beauty is inherently fleeting, because it is precisely the finite nature of things that often makes them beautiful. So it goes for human lives, which can be extended through the adoption of a cyborg body, but seemingly only at the cost of discarding all that is kind and beautiful in life. The only people we’ve seen actually enjoying their metal bodies were those poachers who killed Tetsuro’s mother

“Resembling a mirage that burns up its brief life and fades away.” Beauty is always ephemeral, glimpsed briefly but forever out of reach

“The Comet Library”

Train travel seems uniquely well-suited to a meditative story such as this. Settled comfortably into your seat, there’s little to do but ruminate on your life or the countryside passing by. Such enforced tranquility is a rare gift in modern life; I often find myself savoring transit as a time for pure reflection, with no larger task facing me than being propelled from the point I’ve left to the point I’m approaching

Maetel states they’re approaching Comet Station

This will actually be a brief stop, only an hour and thirty minutes

I like the textured, luminous surface of this station. I am deeply suspicious of modern anime’s frequent allegiance to realism as an aesthetic goal; a great part of animation’s power comes from its ability to evoke visual ideas beyond what exists in reality, whereas a lot of modern anime seem to not trust their audiences to embrace the surreal and fantastical

Gravity seems to work basically at random here, which Maetel describes as being because this is “a fluffy place, neither up nor down, neither hot nor cold.” This obviously isn’t scientific language, which is perfectly in keeping with Galaxy Express’s style, and frankly also with my own preferences. I quite enjoy “fantasy science fiction,” which treats the greater universe as full of impossible wonders, rather than a place bound by a clear set of scientific rules

Granted, there’s also solid drama to be found in more scientifically grounded fiction, but frankly, I feel most people are less attached to such worldbuilding realism than they might think. Whether it’s Star Wars or Gundam, our most famous space adventures tend to be stuffed with outright fantasy

We see that Maetel and Tetsuro are being watched by another pair, who also dream of getting mechanical bodies at Andromeda

This show is just a feast of pure imagination, one fanciful idea after another. We see that the town here is actually composed of orb-like buildings, as there is no up or down to speak of

It actually calls to mind One Piece, with its array of distinctive islands. An excellent conceit for a continuing fantasy narrative

In the distance, a man with a cigar and pistol observes our heroes as they enter a bookstore

The dude drops his cigar and stamps it out on the open air

“Every book ever sold on earth is here.”

“Oh look, Leiji Matsumoto’s Battlefield series is here!” Like Tezuka, Matsumoto can’t help but wink at the audience from time to time. This self-awareness seems reflective of the era’s shift from gag manga to more ambitious works like this

Tetsuro flips through a magazine covering Star Wars, the big hit of 1978. Extraordinarily dispiriting to think Star Wars is still one of the inescapable hits of the modern day, rather than some new adventure with its own wonders to share. The rise of fandom has profoundly hobbled the scope of our artistic fantasies; these days, many folks seem content to dream the same dream every single night

The man pursuing Tetsuro rips a page out of the magazine, and then accuses our boy of the crime

Tetsuro resists, so the man blasts him with his pistol and then flees

Oh my god, I love this absurd uniform worn by the… librarian, I guess? Anyway, fantastic ‘70s dress and weird cat-ear hat

As Maetel leads Tetsuro to a hospital, the original pair that were observing our heroes question the shooter, fretting as to whether Tetsuro might make it back in time to catch the train

Tetsuro reflects that if he already had his metal body, these wounds wouldn’t matter. Of course, a metal body also can’t feel any of the good sensations in life – it is merely an escape from feeling altogether, a prison that ensures only the barest form of life will continue

“I’ll have to cut off these feet and replace them with mechanical ones.” The doctor’s diagnosis seems a little extreme, but I suppose he is the expert

He hands Tetsuro a pamphlet full of potential replacement limbs, and helpfully suggests a ten year indentured servitude payment plan

I can’t really make fun; this is essentially how hospitals work in the United States, where the lack of any public health options make healthcare a feast of exploitation. I’ve had more than a few friends tell me that if they get sick or injured, please don’t call them an ambulance, because they absolutely can’t afford it. Unfettered capitalism remains the great sickness of modern society

Maetel notices the shooter collecting his blood money, and swiftly rushes to save Tetsuro

The doctor unwisely attempts a staring contest with Maetel, and is of course defeated

Love that he’s actually got a gun strapped to the bottom of the operating table. Apparently heated payment negotiations are a pretty standard part of the gig

And actually laughed out loud at Maetel just shoving Tetsuro behind the door. She loves him, but he’s kinda useless

Tetsuro himself ends up taking out the original assailant. “Your draw’s gotten faster, hasn’t it?”

Tetsuro reflects back to Antares’ words: “Listen, kid. Shoot before you’re shot. Even if your opponent is crying, tune out all hesitation and shoot without emotion, if you must! Those are the requirements for living in space.” Even the kind must harden their hearts to survive in this cutthroat world

And desperation can lead us to practically anything. As our pair return to the train, we see that the couple from earlier have adopted their appearances, hoping to take their places aboard the train if Tetsuro ended up trapped in the hospital

“Mom!” the boy doppelganger cries, prompting a look of shock from Tetsuro. Were he and his mother any different from this desperate pair?

“Please, even just the child,” his mother begs. But the train conductor is indifferent to their cries

Tetsuro even tries to open his window for the pair, but Maetel cautions against it. The mother chases the train as long as she can, child in arms, until she fades into the distance. And so Tetsuro understands the true cruelty of Antares’ words

And Done

Oof, what an episode. I got legitimate chills through that last segment, with the mournful chorus accompanying an innocent mother who wishes only to provide for her child. Galaxy Express offers wondrous fantasies and thus lowers our guard, then strikes directly for the heart, consistently emphasizing that the glory of society’s wonders comes at a cost that all those not blessed with wealth must pay and pay again. There is no justice in Tetsuro’s position relative to that desperate pair; the universe is indifferent to our struggles, and we have made for ourselves a society that is crueler still, valuing not compassion and collective charity, but only the will to take from others. Though Tetsuro now moves beyond the realm of Galactic Law, it is hard to imagine a lawlessness more brutal than the civilization mankind has made.

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