In a little more than two weeks, Dragonball Evolution will appear in theaters across the country. It is, of course, already widely available on the Internet, thanks to its March release in Japan and China. Goku, the main character, first appeared in the early eighties in the Akira Toriyama-created manga series Dragon Ball, inspired by the Chinese folk novel Journey to the West. As one of the most popular manga series ever in Japan and North America, Dragon Ball has been keeping kids (and let’s face it, adults) around the world busy ever since. Three anime series, a collectible trading card game, video games, and several animated films keep this never ending story front and center in the shonen world, while attracting the attention of girls and women with Toriyama’s strong female characters. Rumors of a sequel titled Dragonball: Reborn are in the air, but the success of the current translation of this popular mythological tale will more than likely red or green light such a project. Dragonball Evolution is the second live action adaptation of this story of the struggle between good and evil – and a few Dragon Balls, of course – after the first one was produced in China ten years ago to unfavorable reviews, and seems to be getting much of the same: “thin storyline” is the most common complaint, seconded by characterization issues. A playful Goku portrayed by an American? That hasn’t gone over so well. On the plus side, the film employs “hawt actresses” and is sometimes “kawaii (cute).” I think this all translates into a reason for buttery popcorn and a giant diet Pepsi, with reasonable expectations for an entertaining hour and a half of action and humor.
On the opposite end of the “kawaii” and “playful” spectrum lies Battle Royale. This is a stunning look at an alternative society in which a socialist Japanese government promotes an extremely popular reality game show called The Program. No one wants to be on The Program because it is a fight to the death, but the forced nature of the participation contributes to the viewer appeal while keeping the masses too afraid to rise up against the police state. This duality in human nature is a large part of the story. Every year, forty two junior high school students are abducted and left on an island with no means of escape. The last one alive is the winner. It’s a simple premise with complicated responses, as one might expect. These kids are in the throes of adolescence, without experience to guide their decisions, and with their lives on the line and the unpredictability of their peers, anything can happen.
“A lot of us will play . . . and play to win. No sense playing otherwise.” – Mitsuko
Kamon, who directs the activity on the island, is the vile educator of the stunned youth when they discover where they are and realize what it means to be an actual participant on The Program. Kamon is a vicious, cold-blooded rapist and murderer who has no regard for human life, and encourages the teenagers to follow his lead in order to make the current season of the show a successful one. He instills fear and doubt amongst the confusion and disbelief, and enjoys every moment of it. When the students leave the compound and are instructed to fend for themselves, Kamon warns them that if twenty four hours go by without a death, the metal collars around their necks will explode, killing them all.
“There is a dark beauty here, if you’ve an eye for it.” – Kamon
There are no safe zones on the island. No out of bounds. Nowhere to hide. Some students bond for survival, some hide in distrust, and some are betrayed by friends and enemies alike. Throughout the ordeal, childhood memories and alliances surface, and the students take a close look at their budding romances and simmering adversaries in the context of lives cut short and humanity tested. Author Koushun Takami, who also wrote the novel upon which the manga is based, insists that the message behind Battle Royale is that of hope: “in emergencies or other times of tribulation, hope becomes essential . . . nothing is worse than hopelessness.” In Battle Royale: Ultimate Edition, which is a five volume hardback compilation of the 119 chapters, the first volume, or the first twenty four chapters, ends with half of the student population dead, most at the hands of classmates. Hope rests low in the belly of the revolving levels of violence and horror that fill these pages but carries through to the very end. Is there a happy ending? Does the survival of a very few at the cost of so many constitute success or failure? Why do some break easily, and others, when it is least expected, find the strength to stand up for their convictions even when their lives are in danger? 
Translator Keith Giffen took some liberties when writing the Tokyopop English version of Battle Royale, including escalating the violence and sexuality and changing The Program from a military research event to a reality television show, which obviously appeals to the American affection for such programs. Giffen’s respect for the original novel, Takami, and artist Masayuki Taguchi is well-documented, and his intentions for these changes were to enhance marketability while maintaining the original intent: “I just wanted to do it right. I wanted to do justice to it.” While I do not have the ability to make a judgment on his efforts in comparison to the Japanese text, I can certainly look to the compatibility between the images and the translation, which play off each other to enhance the psychological terror that will keep readers entranced and alarmed. The Ultimate Edition, upon which my evaluation is based, has character, weapon, and injury details not in the original version that only enhance the reader experience. Those with weak stomachs and a tendency towards nightmares may want to look the other way, however, because Battle Royale is about as rough as it gets.
Speaking of more “mature” manga, there’s that “M” on the back cover of Battle Royale that screams for attention. “Mature” ratings represent content that includes some or all of the gory, pornographic horror that contributes to the effectiveness of Battle Royale. It is my understanding that in Japan, there are no ratings – the placement of titles indicates the audience. Adult titles would not be available in stores frequented by children and teens, and manga geared towards the younger crowd would not be promoted in stores catering to adults. With that in mind, there are also the cultural differences between Japan and the United States, which point to an expectation of maturity in Japanese youth that does not always translate well in America. The ratings systems, which are U.S. based and meant to evaluate the English language content and not the Japanese, are not consistent either, as they are publisher specific. Del Rey, for example, has three teen ratings, one for 13+, another for older teen 16+ (“non-explicit nudity, strong language, and/or fantasy violence”), another older teen 16+ that comes shrink wrapped due to “brief depictions of sexual or violent situations,” and mature 18+ that also arrives sealed due to “themes or depictions or sexuality, nudity, graphic violence, and/or strong language” that are, apparently, more explicit than those found in the 16+ shrink wrapped rated material. Details, details.
Viz has a rating system that includes A for all ages (“no swearing or nudity. Fantasy violence only), T for teen (“may contain violence, language, suggestive situations, and alcohol or tobacco use”), T+ for older teens and adults (“possibly sexually-oriented nudity, but no explicit sex. No bans on language. Possible gory violence”), and M (“mature themes and depictions”). Of course, all of this is rather subjective. “Mature themes and depictions” is not as definitive as “sexuality, nudity, graphic violence, and/or strong language.” What is strong language? At forty, I still wouldn’t say “damn” in front of my father, but if my seventeen year old gets upset while playing Halo 3 – and who doesn’t, with all those morons out there on Xbox Live? – and yells, “shit!” I think nothing of it. What is a “brief depiction”? One panel? A page? Bottom line is that these ratings might be helpful to an extent but can also be misleading, so be careful what you pass on to the younger set and also be ready for a few surprises during your own reading. Storylines aren’t always predictable, and cultural differences add to the element of surprise more often than not. Teen humor can get a little edgy and totter off into X rated territory, then return to middle school hijinks. Series in particular often start off with a more tame rating, then somewhere along the line sneak up a few notches, and if you aren’t careful, an oversized boob or slit throat might jump off the page when you least expect it.
Medora is a young adult librarian with an affection for Henry James, chinchillas, and violence well-done. You can visit her at Forging an Art.
