A–
We slowly pan up across an extreme wide shot of Tokyo, as the date and setting fade in and out. Then, unexpectedly, a white dome of light quietly envelopes this vast cityscape in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. A blurry, vein-like image match cuts to an unharmed city. However, the rapid scrawl mentioning WWIII and a chasmic crater indicate otherwise. In strikingly scarlet bold letters, we see the film's title: Akira.

Although I won't craftily analyse the opening sequence any more than needed the first sentence that appears on-screen (Akira Committee Production) is alone enough to convey the incredulous scope of this project. At the time, Akira was the most expensive anime film ever created, budgeted at ¥700 million, and the money is all on the screen.

The animation flows like liquid in comparison to the generally choppy motion seen in other anime, as it was primarily completed in ones and twos/ 24 or 12 drawings per second. Detail is paid attention to in a similarly high degree, maintaining a level of nuance that may even surpass the works of Studio Ghibli: streaks of technicolored light egressing from motorbikes as they zip around; each individual muscle of Tetsuo's arm pulsing as his power uncontrollably amplifies and even a simple expression of grief from one of the wizened psychics: it's all there.

However, although its visual spectacle is a sight to behold, that immense quality is matched by its riveting thematic content. For those who have yet to watch the film, as Tetsuo's powers alertly heighten, his frustration towards Kaneda's smothering sympathy and self-considered inadequacy become embodied in an angsty abuse of his abilities. The scars of mass destruction felt by the city's bombing in the inaugural scene can be felt viscerally here, as, although Tetsuo is far from a likeable character, he is a product of a chaotic and brutal environment.

Arresting ideas like these continue to pervade the film's diverging collection of plot threads, a handful involving a governmental coup, humanity's evolution, drug addiction and even existentialism. However, this is where I unfortunately begin to have issues with Akira. Despite all of these various subplots being interesting, they result in a second act that feels turgid and confusing. These failings, albeit to a lesser degree, also appear in the climax, where we have a truncated resolution and a final image that lacks some much-needed exposition.

Still, I can't fault Akira too much. Yes, I would have preferred Kaneda's personality to be composed of more than just brashness and, again, for the structure to be less convoluted; but, the film played a significant part in making anime more than underground geek culture in the West. I can only imagine seeing Akira in cinemas back in 1990, where its imagery and story didn't hold a tonal handle to Disney and Don Bluth. And we should be grateful for that – all of us.