Brief Synopsis: The year is 2019 —  thirty-one years after a nuclear explosion destroyed Tokyo and sparked World War III. “Neo-Tokyo,” a chaotic, neon-gilded city, is rife with government corruption and gang violence. Kaneda and his best friend Tetsuo lead a biker gang known as the “Capsules,” but after a night out terrorizing the public, Tetsuo is injured and taken to a government hospital. He becomes the subject of scientific experimentation, and his psychic powers grow out of control. Kaneda, along with a group of revolutionaries, try to save his friend, but it may be too late to save Neo-Tokyo from destruction.

By 1988, Japanese animation or anime still hadn’t had the international attention it deserved. The talent and the market was there — a growing economy due to an expanding middle class increased confidence in Japanese companies to approve of larger-budgeted and more experimental productions. But even Hayao Miyazaki, Japan’s most well-known animator thanks to Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) — which had been heavily edited in America’s theatrical release to market it for children — couldn’t push anime into anything beyond a niche audience.

Enter Akira: The film that captivated the imagination of the Western World. It was unlike the fluffy woodland creatures of Walt Disney, like The Fox and the Hound (1981), or the slightly grittier Don Bluth versions, like An American Tail (1986). Akira was meant for…adults? It feels weird to say that about an animated film, but how else can you describe a movie where a gargantuan teddy bear bleeds milk in copious amounts, the protagonists of the film are teenage rebels in a futuristic bike gang, and the narrative is book-ended by nuclear annihilation? But somehow, it worked. At the time, Akira broke the record for the highest-grossing anime film, and the VHS sales were phenomenal. Its success allowed for the creation of Manga Entertainment, a company that would be a major distributor of franchises like Ghost in the Shell, Digimon, and Naruto. Audiences were drawn to a visual style that was crisp, sharp — characters’ movements felt realistic — and the color scheme was vibrant, intense. The neon streaks left by Kaneda’s iconic red motorbike reminded American audiences of Tron (1982) and the way Neo-Tokyo feels like a malevolent machine  — flashing skyscrapers, perpetual fog from broken pipes — conjures up strong homages to Blade Runner (1982).  

To put it simply, Akira was an experience distinct from anything seen before…and will never see again. Since its release in 1988, Akira has been a fixture of popular culture (though it kind of died away and has now re-entered public consciousness thanks to Internet jokes that it predicted the 2020 Tokyo Olympics). Michael Jackson played a clip of Kaneda falling from a building in his music video for “Scream,” and various filmmakers have accredited Akira as a direct influence for landmarks such as the Star Wars prequel trilogy, The Matrix (1999), The Dark Knight (2008), and Stranger Things (2016-present). But more impressively, it paved the way for an entire art form to take shape during the 1990s and 2000s. Most anime franchises known today — Cowboy Bebop, Dragon Ball Z, Pokémon, Ghost in the Shell, Fullmetal Alchemist, etc. — don’t exist without Akira. Today, Akira is regarded among one of the greatest science fiction films — not just animated features — and as a fun trivia fact, up until 2014, Akira was the only animated film included in the Criterion Collection. The other two: Fantastic Mr. Fox (added in 2014) and Watership Down (added in 2015). Akira was selected in 1992.