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The culprit it the same virus that stimulates the endorphins in the first place, and it has begun to affect others besides the original patients - an artificially created plague. When one of his own patients is affected, Black Jack, a wildcat surgeon, becomes involved. Jo Carol Brane arranged the kidnapping of his ward, Pinoko, to force his cooperation. Black Jack finds the cause, but this only unmasks the source of the danger. It will take a miracle to find the cure and preventative.
By rights, this should have been an exciting story. In the original Japanese, the script is terse and brutal, producing a stylized gothic effect that is enough to overcome a slow moving plot. Unfortunately, the dubbing took extreme liberties with the script and under-acted the parts. The result is a wordy and sometimes tedious performance. After all, the point of the story - the dangers of irresponsible medical research - is obvious enough so that there is no need to belabor it.
Even so it is an interesting film. The art and music are excellent, using a lot of tonality that is unusual in anime work. A little better editing and writing would have made this a memorable effort. Instead, it is only a near miss. A mistake that should never have happened.
I was quite pleased. Tezuka's reputation is well-deserved. The collection of stories used a gifted surgeon on the outskirts of the law as a vehicle for some very interesting morality tales. My favorite story from this first volume has to be that of the young man who is about to kill himself at the beginning of the story, having failed his college entrance exams. But, partially thanks to Black Jack, he learns what a real life and death situation is, and ends up rededicating himself to become a doctor. Tezuka has a real knack for dramatic storytelling, and for cutting right to the heart (no pun intended) of the very unique issue he chooses.
I had all this in my mind when I bought the movie Black Jack, and I suppose I expected the same style of storytelling to be there. Unfortunately, and in hindsight not surprisingly, it wasn't. Black Jack the surgeon was, by all accounts, true to his character, but the story simply is NOT a Black Jack story. Gone are the vital issues of the life of an individual, into which a seemingly god-sent surgeon walks at just the right moment. Gone is the tale of moral absolutism, the evil men receiving their comeuppance and the good men learning from their mistakes. Instead, one is presented with a clumsy story treading the familiar -- and boring -- ground of "corporate greed" and "environmental responsibility."
Poor, poor Black Jack. Surgeon, heal thyself.
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