Zoopraxiscope

In the summer of 1842, anything that’s fun is illegal in Edo. This includes all forms of entertainment, technological innovations and, in particular, fireworks. The policeman Akai assiduously enforces the law with a particular emphasis on the Furai terrace house, whose inhabitants include the fireworks artisan Seikichi and his mathematician brother Shunpei. One day, after an unpleasant encounter with Akai, Seikichi returns to his room to find a strange, pretty young woman with stars in her eyes (literally) and blue hair who tells him to call her “Sora.” She has a modest request for him: can he make a rocket that will go to the moon?

Oh! Edo Rocket is a collection of disparate elements, starting with the character art. There are at least three distinct styles represented. Seikichi, Shunpei and Sora have classic anime big eyes and small (but definite) noses. (Their mouths are larger than is standard nowadays, though. Seikichi’s is downright big.) Akai, the locksmith Ginjiro and other older characters have normal-sized eyes and relatively realistic faces, and they are considerably taller than Seikichi. Finally, there’s a collection of cartoony grotesques who could have stepped out of a Jay Ward production. These all are as short as Boris Badenov, barely reaching Ginjiro’s knee, with oversized heads. (I posted a portrait gallery earlier.)

In addition to these, there are strange creatures lurking about. One of these is a pale “sky beast,” apparently intelligent, and capable of zapping its enemies with electrical discharges. The magistrate Torii and his secret police pursue the creature, but as of episode two they have yet to capture it.

Other elements include a jazz soundtrack, frequent anachronisms and breaks in the fourth wall. There’s a self-pitying effeminate bishounen whom nobody notices. There aren’t any meganekko or nekomimi so far, but there is Onui, the “watchdog for public morality,” who is distinctly puppyish. There are giant rabbits on the moon.

Oh! Edo Rocket is mostly farce, but there’s menace under the comedy. The inventor Shinsa is hauled off to jail at the end of the first episode. He returns in the second, covered from head to toe with bandages because he refused to inform on Seikichi. The heavily armored secret police are absurd — one travels by turning cartwheels so quickly that he is a blur — but they are also scary. The regular police seem as competent as the Keystone Cops, but Akai is observant enough to be dangerous.

Whether the show’s creators can pull all these heterogenous elements into a unified whole remains to be seen. A stage play, a novel and an earlier television series preceeded the anime, so presumably the writers have some idea of where they’re going with the story. There’s nothing else much like it, so I’ll probably continue to follow it.