This is an imaginative story about an encounter with Osamu Tezuka, otherwise known as the father of Japanese manga and anime. It is an attempt by the author to explore the character of Osamu Tezuka and hopefully, share with his readers a little more about the Japanese anime and manga culture through an interactive manner. Characters in the story are purely fictional and any resemblance to real-life characters is purely a coincidence.
The year was 1962. Japan’s GNP was growing at a phenomenal rate of ten percent, sometimes rising as high as fourteen percent. We had become the third largest economy in the world, displacing West Germany’s and trailing only the United States’ and the Soviet Union’s. There has never been a prouder moment since the unspoken lows in the aftermaths of the war. Japan has truly arrived.
Diplomatic trips such as the Robert Kennedy (the US President’s brother) visit to our country was sensationalised. President Kennedy enjoyed extraordinary popularity in Japan, especially among the young. Fuji Television spared no efforts in covering this historic trip of epic proportions. Sitting at my desk, I was still in a state of shock as to how I managed to clinch a job at Fuji Television. My career in the television industry had only just begun.
“Nakamura! Come over!” a loud voice rang down the aisle. The man who called me was unlike the typical boss; he was young in his mid-thirties, always smiling and respectful, even to his subordinates. We would refer to our boss, Takagi Shinsuke as Takagi-san. For some reasons unknown to us, he would insist that we call him by his surname instead of “bucho ”.
“Would you arrange for a meeting with this man called Osamu Tezuka? It seems that he has a business proposition to make,” Takagi-san continued, “get some information about him and his company as well, will you?”
Osamu Tezuka’s name rang a bell. I remembered vaguely that I’ve seen this name somewhere before. It didn’t take me long to find out who he was.
Osamu Tezuka, like his contemporary peers such as Kuwata Jiro and Takeuchi Tsunayoshi, was in the business of drawing manga. The agony of my daily commuting during university days was eased by a healthy dose of manga drawn and written by these artists. I was pleasantly surprised how our paths would cross again.
Takagi-san and I arrived at the front of a worn-out double storey building. We were led through narrow corridors into a room filled with five young men, working furiously through their sketches, drawing, shading and penciling captions into empty speech bubbles. These worker ants had their creativity stretched to the maximum, wringing their brains to produce masterful art sketches. They reminded me of our research assistants and scriptwriters in our offices – always in a perpetual state of being overloaded, always rushing to meet the next deadline – time was never enough.
“That’s Testuwa Atomu !” I exclaimed. I was still holding on to several limited edition copies of this series in my home.
“Yes, it is, and we want to put them on TV,” replied Tezuka, “we want to make it the number one through the TV, just like how Disney plays their cartoons on television and films. It is about time that we bring manga to the television.”
“But nobody is doing that, not even Kuwata Jiro or Takeuchi Tsunayoshi,” Takagi-san continued, “how are you going to…”
“I will appreciate if you do not see me in the same light as Kuwata and Takeuchi. Our similarities end on the fact that we are manga publishers,” Tezuka interjected swiftly, “I intend to build a manga and animation empire in Japan, and people like Kuwata, unfortunately, don’t come close.”
There was a long-drawn, awkward silence as the true meaning of Tezuka’s ambitions began to sink in. There were beyond our wildest dreams. A manga and animation empire in Japan? From this dilapidated two-storey building? Surely that was taking things too far.
“Tetsuwa Atomu is going to be a hit with the Japanese when it goes on television. Mark my words,” Tezuka broke the silence, “Atomu will be among the first animation that my studio will produce. We have a list of manga that we want to turn into animation…”
“But that is going to take more people than you might imagine, Tezuka-san. We are talking about action reel…” Takagi-san tried to voice his reservation. Cartoons produced in the United States were a painful affair, requiring tedious hours of manual labour on the artwork, frame by frame. There was no limit to the type of resources required. Given our estimates on Tezuka’s company finances, they might not break even on the production costs of animation.
“Daijobu !” Tezuka exclaimed, “I have some of the best artists under my wings and the five of them will do just fine. Every episode will have two thousand frames, and my men can produce three hundred and thirty frames a day. After editing, voice dubbing and the adding of sound effects, we will be ready to air this series next year,” Tezuka predicted confidently. There was another round of silence, this time coming from the five young artists who were still scrambling to fulfill their boss’ orders.
Three hundred and thirty frames a day. That works out to sixty-six frames a day for each one of the five artists in the room. Unbelievable! Of course, it was possible. During the late fifties and early sixties, nothing was impossible in Japan, not after our economy surged past West Germany. Japanese products could be found all over the world. Additional work was a boon; it meant more businesses and higher income. No one would complain about extra work, at least no one dared to. We were now, after all, the third largest economy in the world.
“And the best part of the deal is, I am selling you these series at a flat price of ten thousand yen per episode,” Tezuka continued calmly, with an air of assurance, “and I will bear the full costs of production. All you people have to do is to air it on your network.”
If Takagi-san still had any reservations about how the deal was not feasible, the last thing that Tezuka had said was the game changer.
“Tezuka-san seems to have it all thought out carefully,” I remarked as the afternoon sun greeted us as we exited the old building. Fresh air brushed our clear faces as we walked on in silent agreement. Deep in thoughts about the miracle we just witnessed, it seemed strange that the air, that was thought to be stale before, was vibrating with fresh energy as the impossible became alive in our hearts. Tezuka’s spirit was infectious, to say the least.
“Oh yes, he did. We have nothing much to lose in this deal, do we?” Takagi-san concluded. I couldn’t help but nod my head in agreement.