By Faye Dorman ’26

Majors: Communications & Media Studies and Economics; Minor: Creative Writing

Contributor Biography: Faye Dorman is a member of the Class of 2026 who is probably too invested in her studies out of her own personal interest (or maybe that’s a good thing, who knows). In her free time when she’s not being a nerd about her classes, she likes to write in all types of creative writing and paint with watercolors and acrylics. Dorman hopes to go to Japan to study abroad, both for the experience and to bolster her thoughts about SCE projects.

Brief Description: An analytical essay discussing the representation of Japanese trauma post World War II in the disaster media Akira. The essay compares the imagery and events of the film Akira which was distributed worldwide to the sixth and final volume of the manga by the same name (and same writer) to show that scholars analyzing only the film are missing a large portion of heavy subject material and representations that are important to the story and only present in the manga

The following was written for CMS 250: Media Theory

Introduction 

The 1988 animated Japanese film Akira by director Katsuhiro Otomo was one of the most influential films of its time. The highest-budget animated Japanese film in its country until the late 90’s, with one of the largest global reaches, Akira became a landmark film both in Japan and in the Western world. In addition to its record sales and stunningly crafted animation, Akira is one of many Japanese media texts that has a plot and setting that stem from the events of World War II, such as the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the rebuilding effort in Japan immediately after. With images of explosions mimicking that of an atomic bomb and discussion of the consequences of war, the film is critical of the actions of both Japan and the United States, both during and after the conflict. The original manga—published from 1980 to 1989 and also written by Otomo—is even sharper in its critique, highlighting corrupt governments, the military shame felt in Japan, secret human experimentation, and conflict with the US Navy and Marines. Despite the searing and complex critique of the manga, like many film adaptations, a large number of these factors were left out of the version that was shown around the globe. 

This, however, does not mean that the plot points and storylines that were cut out were not important or lacked in message and representation of Japan. The manga embraces its historical attributes, blatantly putting them on display and even creating new ways to digest the messages that were not seen at the time of its publication. Yet scholars tend to overlook the manga in favor of analyzing the film for signs of generational and cultural trauma representations, when the manga’s more saturated narrative supplies better examples. I propose to fill this gap by examining the last volume of the manga for representations and imagery of Japanese generational and cultural trauma from the events of the end of World War II, and to discuss the implications of subtracting and changing these elements from the manga to the film, along with how the analysis of the manga significantly contributes to messaging of Akria.  

Finding the Right Lens; Media Studies and Japan 

A proper starting point for this research is understanding the medium that is being examined. Akira has two forms of media that can be analyzed; a print version referred to as manga in Japan, and an animated film, otherwise known as anime. Looking further into this idea with Akira in mind, Craig Norris (2009) compares anime and manga, and notes that manga is the media that defines media such as anime or video games; it’s a starting place, similar to comics and books in the West. Norris also comments that despite being influential beginnings, manga gets overlooked in the worldwide influence that anime has (2009). This is crucial to remember when studying Akira; while the manga is more in-depth, the anime can be seen as more influential due to the nature of its popularity and accessible content, and to ideas that come more into play when comparing the mediums themselves. 

Even more crucial to the successful dissection of the text is considering where it was created. Akira is a work of Japanese science fiction, which carries very different contexts than Western media simply because of the vast difference in culture and lived experience between the two groups. This difference has been overlooked for the better part of the 20th century, with predominantly Western media theorists paving the way in every aspect of media studies. In an excerpt from a journal article by Ito Youichi (1993), he explains that the issues previously diagnosed in Japan have been false and harmful to the study of Japanese media. One example of this is the idea of atomized individuals, a concept which insinuates that culture theory does not apply to individuals who are extremely self-interested and self-sustaining, as the Japanese have been described (1993). Youichi claims that Japan’s “international cultural frictions are not caused because the Japanese are atomized, but because they are too cohesive,” showing that Westerners who are unfamiliar with self-isolating Japan are making incorrect notions about the nation and its culture (pg. 69). 

Toshi Takahashi (2002) also examines previously-encountered media studies in Japan in a critical light. She criticizes past media studies, claiming that previous studies from Westerners were influenced by “attempts to understand the Japanese to best overpower them during the war, to their wish to emulate their 1980s economic success,” (pg. 98). However, many scholars are now aware of this issue, and choose to combine western media theories with newer Japanese theories to make more accurate observations. Still, knowing this information makes focusing on the text itself even more crucial, as the studies on audience reactions to the media might—or purposefully—Eurocentric, taking away from the effectiveness of the original message. 

Japan’s Trauma in Media  

It is impossible to discuss cultural studies in Japanese media without coming across at least one representation of the ending events of World War II; the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Though this pivotal point in history is undeniably important in this study, it’s important to know the aftereffects and the state Japan had to evolve through in its wake. WWII left Japan in a state of unraveling government and unprecedented influence from the outside world that was both unfamiliar and unwanted. Between being occupied, scorned by other Asian countries for their war crimes, and having their entire culture uprooted, the people of Japan were distraught and distressed—a feeling that would not change for generations, and something that evolved as the years went on.  

The turmoil felt by the Japanese is a point of interest in understanding modern-day Japan. Kaoru Nishimura (2011) examines these aspects revolving around trauma left behind from WWII and recalls later generations having to deal with the shame and hatred from other Asian countries. As a result, many of the younger generations have trouble honoring their country. “There are very few young people who are able to respect the national flag and sing the national anthem in a ringing voice,” (pg. 3), Nishimura notes, claiming this to be the result of younger generations associating these practices of honor with wartime and the actions their elders committed. 

Returning to the previously mentioned bombings, there is also more blatant trauma evident in Japan. For decades since the event, even to this day, the Japanese have been creating imagery in their media to try to mourn and comprehend the horrors that they endured. Movies and novels such as Godzilla, Nippon Chinbostu (meaning Japan Sinks, a popular early 20th-century disaster novel), Space Battleship Yamato, Barefoot Gen, and Grave of the Fireflies, just to name a few. Though they all have different methods, they all are ways for creators to share their trauma from the events of wartime, and to help the citizens of Japan process theirs as well. Nishimura also comments on these pieces of media, pointing out the continuous symbols of the atomic bomb, the US. military, and scientists, or even the use of Japanese military imagery (such as Space Battleship Yamato, which is based on an actual Japanese naval ship). These representations of the collective trauma shared by the people who lived through the horrors of the war have become a staple in what is considered “disaster media,” a type of story in which the tale includes aspects of or is very similar to real-life tragedies.  

David C. Stahl of Binghamton University’s Department of Asian and Asian American Studies shares a very similar sentiment to Nishimura’s. The sixth chapter of Stahl’s book, Imag(in)ing the War in Japan, focuses on Grave of the Fireflies, an animated tale of two children who survive a firebombing of their city, but ultimately succumb in the end to starvation. In his research, Stahl found that the anime itself was created by two survivors of the US military’s firebombing on Japan in March of 1945; he describes how the events in the story are like the creators’ own, even quoting one of the creators when he mentions that this film was the most important project of his life. The intertwining of personal experience and national trauma is clear throughout the project, from the touches of personal experiences to the setting and consequences of the events.  

A New Message 

It is no surprise to anyone familiar with the material of Akira that it is another example of media heavily influenced by the tragedies in Japan’s history. For starters, the beginning and end of the film feature explosions mimicking an atomic bomb, encasing the entire city of Tokyo (later Neo-Tokyo), and destroying everything in its wake, physically and socially. In an article from Frank Fuller (2020), the imagery of the destruction is described as “a throbbing, white mass,” and continues to describe “swirling winds engulf[ing] the metropolis, swallowing it whole and leaving a skeleton of a city in its wake,” (pg. 1). This imagery is about as close to the mushroom cloud as the story can get, seeing as the cause of the explosion is not an atom bomb and therefore is depicted differently. Besides the obvious war imagery in the opening and ending scenes, Fuller states that Akira portrays adults in the movie as “squabbling fools,” a new concept for criticizing older generations coping with the rebuilding of their country; “they jockey for power, and their lust for control of the strange, alien technology of Akira causes the atomic-bomb-like catastrophe at the end of the film. The teenage characters, on the other hand, display common sense throughout the movie,” (pg. 3). This idea that the teenagers, or the younger generation, are the more responsible, problem-solving ones hints at the idea of younger generations helping to alleviate the pain and help the people of Japan to move forward again. The idea itself, at the time, was not unheard of, but it was still new to Japanese audiences. 

On a similar train of thought, Thomas Lamarre (2008) claims that Akira does not follow the traditional messaging of disaster science fiction in Japan. Lamarre suggests that Akira doesn’t represent mourning, and rather that “it takes the intensification of acting out of nuclear destruction as the basic condition for the passage into a new era and a new world,” (pg. 134). By using imagery of disaster to show and promote new ideas of embracing the cultural rebirth Japan underwent and was still working through at the time, Akira creates new methods for the Japanese to process their emotions and trauma towards the disasters of their past.  

Sarah J. Napier (1993) agrees that the film brings a changing sentiment toward the trauma of WWII. When compared to its disaster sci-fi predecessors, Godzilla and Nippon Chinbostu, Napier claims that Akira has a sense of celebration and of embracing when faced with destruction. As she analyzes the film, Napier notes that Akira’s unique ending, in which there is no true standalone hero, and unabashed “open-ended nihilism,” made the movie not only a statement to Japanese films dealing with this trauma, but to the broader world of film (pg. 360). Akira’s fresh take on ideas that have been haunting the people of Japan for decades allows for audiences to see their trauma represented, and to be guided towards feelings of acceptance and peace without overlooking the tragedies that have occurred. 

The Missing Link 

Napier’s (1993) article, despite being an in-depth analysis of multiple pieces of Japanese media for trauma representation, is missing a part of the bigger picture. The reason is its lack of discussion about the anime’s source material: the manga. Beyond the obvious mentions of only events and plot points occurring in the film, Napier points out ideas that were represented differently in the manga, and therefore have had their meaning changed. While observing the female characters in the movie, Napier claims that “the fully-sexual or maternal female is notably absent… leaving no softness in the film, no glimpse of any superior alternative or comforting escape,” (pg. 346). This claim reigns true in the film, but the argument completely disregards the existence of the character Kaori, who is the love interest of one of the main characters, Tetsuo. Though she is not relevant or important to the film, her role in the manga is not only more important but fits both roles that Napier claims the film lacks, and it suggests that the entire message of Akira is being misunderstood. This does not discredit Napier’s article, however, but simply points to the overarching issue of missing details in the transition from written media to film or television. Anita Jetnikoff (2005) remarks on this concept, claiming that books and movies need to be read as texts that stem from their differing mediums (pg. 88).  

In an even broader understanding of the situation, Robin E Brenner (2007) describes how the process of creating an anime from a manga includes not only interpreting the symbols and imagery from the source material but also navigating Western influences, which can be nearly unavoidable when trying to appeal to global audiences. Western influence and audiences could have been major players in the content that was included in the film adaptation of Akira, as audiences outside of Japan were anticipating its release, and even more would come to see it out of curiosity. Between not wanting to upset foreign audiences and confusing consumers who were unfamiliar with the source material, Akira could have traded some of its symbolism and events for a more Western-friendly façade. 

Summary 

The 1988 animated Japanese film Akira is a representation of Japan’s trauma and shattered cultural identity from World War II. Using cultural studies focusing on the Japanese experience, I recognize the deeper meanings and symbolism encoded in the text used to discuss traumatic topics. By focusing on the manga, which is left under-analyzed by many scholars, I find quieter representations and compare them to previous conversations held by other Japanese disaster media, as well as understand why certain aspects of the original manga were included, cut, or changed. Focusing only on the sixth volume of the manga will allow me to be more thorough in my investigation and will have the most representation of Japanese culture, considering that the final volume includes all parties involved in WWI and the climatic explosion that is iconic in both mediums.  

Analysis 

Contextualizing the Beginning of the End 

To effectively analyze Akira for undiscussed representations of Japanese trauma, a few parameters must be set. This analysis will be looking at only the representation in the final volume of Akira, specifically the representation that was not included or discussed in the film, a commonly overlooked portion of the messaging. Though an overview of the entire plot is not necessary, a few short notes regarding overall ideas are crucial.  

All the forces acting in this story are trying to defeat Tetsuo, a teenage boy who has awakened an unprecedented level of psychic powers and is destroying and taking over Tokyo. Kaneda is the main protagonist, a teenage leader of a bike gang that Tetsuo used to be a part of, and Tetsuo’s best friend. He is working with these forces to try and defeat his friend on a personal level. Kaneda is one of the few acting protagonists who never exhibits psychic powers, and as a result, is a vehicle for explaining the events of the story as he constantly needs to be told what is going on (he’s not the brightest of bulbs). Throughout the sixth novel, the fighting between all of these forces reaches a head when Tetsuo absorbs too much energy and incites the birth of a new universe that culminates with an explosion, mimicking the explosion of an atom bomb. The events analyzed thus occur during this build-up as well as during the aftermath of Tetsuo’s destruction.  

The Manga 

The sixth volume’s messages begin with a direct representation of the US military’s use of carpet bombing in Japan. As a result of SOL’s failures (Satellite Orbital Laser), the Americans decide to retaliate with a bombing of Neo-Tokyo, with the general even declaring “I’ll sink you and your whole junkheap island…,” referencing the island within Neo-Tokyo that Tetsuo has created and presumably the entire island of Japan as well (p. 29). The bombings themselves are set up to be disastrous. Some characters, the ones with heavy involvement with the plot and the fighting, note that the planes are misplaced and are coming from the East (the ocean), similar to how bombings during the war would have started (p. 120). However, naive characters, the civilians, simply believe that they are Red Cross planes delivering relief packages and begin to flood the streets to get help (p. 121). Another character describes the bombings that come afterward as “indiscriminate,” which is accurate, as the areas we see being bombed are only filled with civilians and refugees (p. 123).  

The inclusion of the US military in the story of Akira in and of itself is damning, but this particular action in the final volume calls to WWII in the way that its predecessors like Grave of the Fireflies and Barefoot Gen utilized; showing the acts as they were without sugar- coating or changing them. By showing the firebombing of Tokyo, the manga connects the events of the story to events that have previously happened to the real Japan, creating a sense of repetition that the story uses to explain its events, as well as connecting to the suffering that Japan previously faced at the hands of the Americans. The event is still just as impactful even in the violence-soaked plot, as there is an emphasis put on the harm of civilians, refugee centers holding rehabilitating and defenseless characters, as well as the endangerment of the main characters, framing the bombs as unnecessary, excessive, and harmful as it was perceived during the horrors of WWII.  

In fact, the American military’s actions in Akira were all followed by the unnecessary mass destruction of Tokyo. After the carpet bombing, the US military successfully hacks into SOL and begins to attack the Olympic Stadium (the location of Tetsuo) (p. 146). The attack destroys the stadium, as well as a large portion of the already destroyed city where there are civilians and refugees, and when the attack ceases momentarily, the general demands an answer as to why the assault is not continuing (p. 146-150). Despite not being a blatant representation of American military maneuvers against Japan, this showing of uncurbed aggression acts as an antagonizing force for all the characters involved due to the overall destructive nature painting America in the negative light that Japan perceived at the end of the war, and probably at the time of publication due to constant government interference.  

Moving on from the acts of the American military, the manga’s messaging shifts at the climax of the entire plotline. The final explosion of Tetsuo is a quintessential moment, both in the manga and the film, but the manga takes the time its medium allows it to fully explain itself. Both mediums portray Kaneda witnessing the same events, however, the manga allows the audience to linger with the makings of the blast and talks us through what it means by having the explosion speak to Kaneda directly. As he floats about, the explosion tells Kaneda that humanity is evolving again, claiming that the results of this evolution would be for the next generation to see (p. 356-357). When Kaneda denounced this, pointing out the adverse effects from previous events, the explosion tells him that it was rushed by humanity rather than occurring naturally, and in doing so humanity created their downfall and failure to evolve (p. 357-361).  

Despite not referencing war trauma, this conversation represents a different hurdle in Japan’s recent history; the reforming of its culture and society. Due to the destruction of the Great Empire, Japan needed to rebuild its entire framework from scratch. A difficult task made even harder by foreign occupation, which allowed the flooding of media previously unavailable, as well as a never-ending push to develop at an unnatural speed. This development is the evolution that the explosion speaks of; despite it being time for Japan to move on from its previous culture, they were pushed to do so very quickly by outside forces, creating a culture that they didn’t associate with, a culture that was in a sense wrong and twisted. Despite being present in the film, the manga forces the reader to comprehend the full meaning of the imagery by clearly spelling it out , rather than simply showing images of the past as the film chooses to do.  

The ending of the film is one of its most iconic moments. The hopeful ending, the idea of the blast that once again destroys Tokyo is framed as a beginning, rather than the end of everything. Compared to most disaster media from its time, it is a far cry from remorseful endings or stories that are completely wrapped up tight with a bow. Yet, compared with its source material, the ending itself lacks details and a full embrace of the idea of what is to come. In the sixth volume of the manga, after the conclusion of the explosion, the ocean floods into Japan, and with it comes the American military. They appear to be entering the city to help citizens, but they do so with tanks, helicopters, and loaded guns while looking out for resistance (p. 402-403). However, when they do begin to scout out more of the city, they are met with explosive resistance from the characters previously involved with the explosion, led by Kaneda who demands to speak with someone in charge after surrounding the scouting team (p. 410-412). In speaking to the foreigners, he declares that they are invaders despite them claiming that they are peacekeepers from the UN and proclaims that he and the budding resistance are the sovereign nation of the Great Empire of Tokyo (p. 414).   

This addition to the ending, written after the film was released, directly addresses a distinct Japanese trauma; the “help” from America after the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as well as the occupation directly afterward. Despite being the ones who brought the most pain and suffering to Japan, America was the one in charge of Japan while they were rebuilding and were a looming force over Japan far after the direct occupation. From economic policies to media, the US forced Western ideals and practices upon a previously self-isolated Japanese culture and was seen as an oppressive force controlling their development because of this. However, the manga suggests that it’s time to break free from what the Americans had set for Japan and create a new version of Japan on their own by having the teenage characters, the next generation, refuse to bend to the UN and the Americans who come after the explosion and instead strive to create their sovereign nation. Despite it not being included in the film’s hopeful ending for humanity, the manga’s ending promotes a happy ending for Japan, as well as a bright future as the country finally begins to recreate itself without outside interference.  

Understanding the Differences 

Despite being similar in the main points of the plot, the film and the manga have very key differences in which details and characters they choose to focus on and include. Most of this can be explained by time constraints that come with the film medium; there is not enough time to address and feature all of the characters and plotlines that a six-volume manga has. However, some of these cuts could have an extra motive, namely the distinct lack of outside Western presence in the film. The film includes no mention of the Navy, the UN, or any kind of outside help after the explosion. Though it may have simply been cut for time purposes, the US Navy’s presence persists through multiple volumes and becomes a key motivator in final acts. The involvement of Western militaries might have been cut to keep appeal with foreign audiences.  

Akira, as a manga, was known worldwide, but people who consumed the manga were much more likely to be informed about Japan’s history and therefore would sympathize rather than be outraged or upset by the images depicted. A film, however, is marketed much more broadly and is more likely to draw audiences who are unaware and unfamiliar with these types of depictions. The choice to eliminate such a large point in the plot as well as the messaging of the manga could have been heavily influenced by the need to appeal to a more general Western audience than the manga needed to. By going back and truly examining the manga, a grand picture of the message of Akira comes into focus. This allows not only the criticism of even more parties involved in the trauma surrounding Japan, but it also allows more understanding of the Japanese culture and thought process that went into its creation, something that had been pushed aside in exchange for a more Eurocentric method of thinking. The practice of analyzing the manga in addition to the widely dispersed anime allows for better examinations, findings, and understanding from people inside and outside of the culture behind the media.  

Conclusion 

Katsuhiro Omoto’s Akira is not only a groundbreaking story that took Japan and the world by storm, but it is also a representation of Japanese generational and cultural trauma from the events of the end of World War II, and those immediately following it. Both the manga and the film depict harrowing imagery similar to a nuclear bomb detonation, and both encourage this idea of rebirth from disaster and recreating society for the better. Yet, some components don’t appear in both mediums, taking out some of the most pin-pointed representations from the largely circulated film to appeal to the Western audience that was otherwise accredited as an antagonist. By looking at these “discarded” examples, scholars can truly see the comprehensive statements that Akria brings to the table alongside its disaster-fiction predecessors.  

The biggest limitation of my study was the scope of it, namely the fact that I only analyzed the last volume out of six. Despite having a large portion of outright symbols, there are many other instances that I have overlooked and not discussed due to them not being present in the sixth volume. The other volumes also pose more comparisons to the film, as two volumes were completely disregarded in the runtime of the film, let alone the smaller details that were cut that could also add to the statement that Katsuhiro was originally trying to make. Future scholars can greatly benefit from deeply analyzing the entire Akira manga, to not overlook criticisms and talking points that were left to the side to not upset and turn away Western film audiences. Despite WWII being nearly a century ago, the past will continue to linger in Japanese media, and understanding its representation will help audiences not only come to terms with the past’s momentary shockwaves but also the effect left lingering on, just like radiation.  

Works Cited  

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