Galaxy Express 999 – Episode 10

Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to return to the journey of Tetsuro and Maetel, as we explore a fresh episode of the fantastical Galaxy Express. Our last episode saw the pair touching down on the planet Trader, and for once enjoying the generous amenities of a modern city as they prepared for the next leg of their journey. But no glimmering facade comes without its ominous underbelly, and in Trader, the vast gulf between the haves and have-nots is expressed on every street corner, as desperate travelers beg for charity from anyone who might answer.

The threat of starvation has a way of clarifying our relationship with others, demonstrating how the civility of society is essentially another form of imprisonment, a culturally conditioned expectation that we will suffer in silence rather than disrupt the mirage that is capitalism. True scarcity pierces the veil, forcing us to act in desperate, ugly ways in order to survive, and through this desperation reveal that forms of classism or servitude based on financial relations are in truth no more civilized than the gun and the lash. It is a very convenient thing to have your inhumanity enshrined as the culturally accepted mode of exploitation, while the cries of those you’ve impoverished are at best framed as “undignified,” and likely as not criminalized altogether. All we can hope for in such desperate times is that the fire of compassion not be snuffed out by pragmatism – and in this woman he has allied with, whose poverty and kindness remind him so much of his mother, Tetsuro may have discovered another keeper of the flame. Let us return to Galaxy Express 999!

Episode 10

A delightful mixture of train types leaving the junction, including a salmon-covered stope-top engine that we turn to follow. It’s an interesting quirk of fate, how the rapid industrialization of the twentieth century dovetails with the development of animation as an art form. Watching a train churn into motion is a natural exercise in visual action and consequence, and much of anime across history reflects a fascination with these mechanical processes, echoed in both the proliferation of shows about vehicles or mechanical warriors, and the lucrative merchandising initiatives that sustained them. Many early animators transitioned from drafting the machines they saw as thrilling icons of a new era into considering drawings in motion; it feels like something has been lost in the disappearance of the underlying mechanical processes from the design of modern vehicles, such that we only see a sleek exterior that moves as if by magic, rather than the chugging pistons and wheels of old-fashioned trains

One thing I find compelling about Anno and Miyazaki’s work is that while they clearly reflect this fascination, they’re also never at peace with its implications. Both of their oeuvres reflect an attempt to flee the automated and mechanical for the earnest and natural, and neither are entirely successful. At this point, I often find unresolved tensions more interesting than clean thematic payoffs

Tetsuro awakes on this unfamiliar train, apparently headed to Planet Wildflower with the woman he met last episode

Tetsuro attempts to get off, paying no heed to the fact that they’re in space. Then again, the space pirate from earlier was able to just cling to the bottom of the 999 to board it; dealing with the vacuum of space would be an inconvenience that undercuts the show’s ability to engage in various classic forms of train-related drama, and as we’ve already established, Galaxy Express 999 is a train line first, space-faring vessel second

Planet Wildflower is actually shaped like a flower, its translucent green petals allowing the light of the stars to shimmer through. Evocative imagery is its own inspiring reward; consider the practical realities later, if at all

Our landing is accompanied by jubilant horns and the tweeting of bird song, as we alight within a vast meadow. Wildflower seems like a paradise

I like how you can see the rising petals of the planet in the far distance. So many compelling ideas furnishing every episode; such persistent offhand invention gives the whole production a sense of wonder, making a hook out of simply wanting to see what Matsumoto comes up with next. The same trick Oda would use for his One Piece islands, and with a similar restriction: you have to actually have a remarkably vivid imagination to keep readers hooked purely on an invitation to its wonders

The lady reveals it’s been years that she left to work on Trader, and that she wants Tetsuro to see her mother and father

“They’re getting older so I need to be there to care for them.” And all the fantastical wonders of Galaxy Express serve to make its mundane concerns hit harder; even in this glorious future, we still have rampant poverty and a lack of public services for those in need. We have conquered the stars without fixing our own hearts

We at last learn her name is Hanako. Her mother has a delightfully warped old lady design; Matsumoto’s exaggerated gremlin designs are a fine match for the warping effects of pronounced age

A tearful reunion, complemented by gentle gusts carrying colorful flower petals

“As long as you’re working hard and healthy, that’s all we want.” Yet in this world, even stable employment is beyond Hanako’s grasp, and she must sift for whatever food she can find in the garbage, healthy or not

All she can offer her parents is the illusion of a happy life for herself, as demonstrated through her declaration that she’s going to marry Tetsuro. In this world so impoverished we cannot support ourselves, the best we can hope for is to convince the people we love not to worry about us

“Today’s a happy day, so serve the fish whole!” We find our own reasons for joy in a world that offers none

Tetsuro enjoys a meal carefully prepared and freely given, in spite of the poverty of this family; a clear contrast with the hoarded wealth of Trader Junction

The family do everything they can to maintain a positive facade for their new “son’s” visit, literally closing the door on Hanako’s coughing father so Tetsuro will not be bothered. Like Hanako hiding the truth of her life on Trader Junction from her parents, sometimes all we can do for each other is offer comforting lies, shielding each other at least momentarily from the ugly truths of life

Tetsuro sees an old picture of Hanako, and is shocked at how the years of working have worn on her face

Hanako begs Tetsuro to put up with this charade a little longer, and then locks him in the bedroom

Still, it’s clear she’s having trouble maintaining this facade, and lying to her parents so flagrantly. Her posture stoops as she tries on an old dress, her parents’ happy words piling heavily on her shoulders

A poignant image that might sum up the entire episode: Hanako sitting on her parents’ stoop in her favorite dress, staring out towards the rose petal edge of her home, knowing she will never move beyond this point

Tetsuro sneaks out through the window and finds her sobbing in the field as the sun sets, begging him not to leave. Even if it was a lie, he represented a dream of conventional happiness in life that she’s not willing to abandon

She begs him to stay just one night. Her sunken posture is contrasted against a wilting flower in the foreground

More images of flower petals floating in the breeze, an image that has shifted from joyous to mournful as the episode proceeds. Every petal dancing in the wind will swiftly fall to earth

Their wedding banquet seems to have no guests at all. The joyous horns that welcomed us to Wildflower have been replaced by discordant, screeching strings

Hanako’s parents have set out spaces for the various luminaries of Wildflower, who they treat as if they’re actually there. As with Hanako, they are embracing a performance of a happy, successful life in the absence of the real thing

Hanako makes a sincere smile as she offers sake to her father. Even if these rituals are falsehoods, they can offer fragments of real joy. If an illusion of happiness is all we have, then we must cling to that illusion

She insists that she and her parents were “very happy” with tears in her eyes. Can she believe that, or is it even more painful to pantomime happiness than deny it altogether?

In the morning, she runs outside to a bright dawn, certain that Tetsuro has already caught the morning train. His time on Wildflower was like a dream; and for Hanako, this morning still provides a glimmer of hope, assuring her that Tetsuro is free, and that she has many mornings still ahead of her

Tetsuro actually wakes on the train, where we learn Maetel arrived the previous night. Seeing the desperate happiness of Hanako and her parents, she chose not to intervene until the morning

“Find happiness!” Hanako shouts towards the departing train. “Make sure you do!” Let at least one of our dreams become reality. Hanako could only offer her parents a fantasy, but she prays that Tetsuro discovers the real thing

“She was just too busy trying to survive that she never found love.”

And Done

Ah, there’s that glorious melancholy beauty! Hanako’s story proved a fantastic extrapolation of the last episode’s thoughts on poverty and opportunity, luxuriating in the relatable sadness of coming to terms with a disappointing life, and compassionately exploring the kindly lies we tell ourselves and others, that we might collectively find solace in the lives we wanted for each other. Hanako dreamt of finding wealth and opportunity in the big city, of demonstrating to her parents that she could survive on her own, and of assuring them that her life beyond them would be a happy one. She was unable to prove any of that, but their mutual love endured; in the end, although the fantasy of Tetsuro’s presence is a hard loss to bear, she was still able to validate the hopes that sent her to Trader Junction. In a world as heartless and impoverished as this, we cannot count on our dreams coming true, but we can at least work to shield the people we love from fortune’s cruelties, and assure them we’re going to be okay. Hell, if we say it often enough, we might even start to believe it.

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