Yes, this is Bullbuster, an anime that was made at Studio NuT. Two references that sound like testicles! Dohohohoho. Having cleared the air with that sensible, if slightly sarcastic, joke, let’s discuss the real plot of Bullbuster. Throughout the hundreds of anime shows I’ve watched over the years, Bullbuster manages a number of things that I doubt any other show has ever managed to do.
However, it’s vital to know what kind of series you’re getting into when you start Bullbuster in order to prevent disappointment. It belongs to the mecha anime “real robot” subgenre, which is more concerned with realistic robot designs carrying out daily tasks than with superpowered robots engaged in combat. Even with Patlabor—the most well-known example—Bullbuster places a greater focus on office hijinks and antics. Tetsuro Okino, the main character, is a bright-eyed engineer-turned-superrobot enthusiast who shows up at Namidome Pest Control with the Bullbuster, a cutting-edge mech he built himself. In order to fulfill his dream of operating a massive robot, he is moving to Namidome with his robot.
But there’s a big chasm between his dream and reality. Formerly a construction company, Namidome is now a part of Shiota Chemical, a larger organization. It’s not a flashy, high-tech operation. Actually, just the reverse. Operating out of a dilapidated warehouse, the little company employs only six people. They carry out “pest control” by battling Giant Beasts, who are mutant monsters that have taken over Ryugan Island and forced the locals to leave when a desalination plant was installed. Apart with strangely transformed creatures, Namidome’s tenacious team also has to deal with financial constraints, negative social media posts, and antagonistic parent companies. To put it briefly, capitalism poses a greater threat to them than the Giant Beasts.
I was a huge fan of Bullbuster, but like many other series I have strong feelings about, the anime community as a whole had mixed reactions. I can kind of understand why; it’s a major letdown if you’re expecting to see awesome robots taking on monsters. Jūki Izumo’s mecha designs intentionally prioritize function over form, resulting in clumsy and unattractive designs. That’s nice (as it fits with the utilitarian design of the series), but it’s not likely to pique the interest of those who are looking for mecha series in the wild. Conversely, the Giant Beasts don’t look well. The hand-drawn parts never blend in with the computer-generated imagery, which is roughly on par with PlayStation 2 visuals. They appear to be arriving from another dimension.
On the other hand, the hand-drawn animation is excellent overall. Particularly noteworthy is the character design work, since each effectively conveys the personalities of the individuals. While Tajima’s rumpled hair and unshaven face suggest an exhausted guy who works so hard he has little time for himself, Okino’s freckles indicate youthful vigor. Shirogane’s typical office lady vest, shirt, and pencil skirt convey a significantly different personality than Nikaido’s tie-up jumpsuit and tank top. Namari is an awkward young man who doesn’t give a damn about what people think of him, as evidenced even by his awful hairstyle.
Apart from their distinct appearances, every character possesses a unique body and manner of movement that is evident even in seemingly insignificant actions, such as Okino adjusting his hair before filming himself piloting. Even while they are fairly archetypal—the cool chick, the grizzled veteran, the fresh-faced novice, and so on—the minor details about their personal histories, such as Muto discussing his kid, give them a more human quality. These tidbits matter because, while being an ensemble production, the story and concepts ultimately drive the program rather than the characters.
Bullbuster employs mythological elements like battle robots and giant beasts to explore contemporary business culture. Although it is not profitable, the people of Namidome believe that their goal is vital to returning the people of Ryugan Island to their homes. Kataoka, their accountant, is always reminding them that money is scarce and that things like ammo and the ability to charge the suits cost money. Because Namidome lacks the funds to cover their time, the lab manager at Shiota is unwilling to conduct study on the animals, and no amount of convincing will persuade him to change his mind about the relocated Ryugans. But as the story progresses, it becomes apparent that his denial may have had a darker motive than first thought.
The narrative progresses, highlighting the limitations of a tiny business against an indifferent, even hostile, corporate culture. It’s quite real and presently without a workable answer. Except, perhaps, for communism (albeit the lovely people of Namidome lack the means to topple the government). Bullbuster isn’t scared to leave things unsettled, even while the protagonists rejoice in their fleeting success, in contrast to trying for a cosy conclusion. Although fiction is a great medium for examining contemporary concerns, writers frequently hesitate or are scared to leave unresolved questions unanswered. Rather, they create a fanciful solution that might improve the world of the story but isn’t applicable to the audience. It requires bravery to have characters in a novel who fight back even when they realize that they might not be able to do it alone.
Although Okino appears to be the main character at first, as the story progresses, other characters come into greater prominence. This benefits and detracts from the plot. As the new hire, Okino is an easy way to introduce himself to the public, but he also has the least personal connection to Ryugan Island. In such a grounded environment, his idealistic, young face also rapidly irritates him as he battles essential pragmatism and other pressing concerns. Eventually, instead of everything being tied to Okino’s narrow viewpoint, other ensemble members take on point-of-view roles in his place, particularly as their involvement in the conflict becomes apparent. This permits more tale growth, but it also creates a sense of narrative cul-de-sac for many of his early developments and other facts regarding the lives of the individuals. Though it seems a little awkward in the anime setting, I wonder if this is because it is an adaptation of a series of novels, where switching views between volumes feels like a more natural transition.
The opening theme tune, “Try-Lai-Lai” by Tom-H@ck, is particularly noteworthy despite the overall high caliber of the soundtrack. It’s a huge hit with equally exuberant images that never failed to invigorate and excite me for what came next.
Bullbuster won’t satisfy your needs if your main goal is thrilling mecha action. But this is a worthwhile read if you’re searching for a story that employs enormous robots to do something novel, something clever, perhaps even something little political.
