ULTRA BEAUTY

Now on Netflix:

Ultraman: Rising--The very name Ultraman is a madeleine for me, evoking powerful childhood memories, often thrilling, just as often frustrating. As a kid in rural northwestern Pennsylvania in the early '70s, I used to try to tune in UHF Channel 29 from Buffalo, New York, on weekday afternoons to see reruns of the late '60s Japanese TV series about the solar-powered superhero who battled all manner of bizarre kaiju threatening humanity.

When the weather was clear, especially in the summer, I would often have a good signal, and I'd get a clear picture of the weird psychedelic paint swirls out of which the show's opening title would take shape. When the weather was lousy or wintry, I'd usually get nothing but snow, and great would be my indignant disappointment.

In the early iteration of the show that I loved (1966-67), created by Godzilla special effects master Eiji Tsuburaya, Ultraman was the alter-ego of Clark Kent-esque Hayata, an intrepid member of the "Science Patrol." This agency was tasked with animal control duties on the myriad massive monsters that regularly inconvenience Japanese society and threaten its infrastructure. When the situation became sufficiently desperate, Hayata would excuse himself and press a button on the "Beta Capsule" he carried, thus transforming himself into the sleek android giant, who would then fight the creature in question with a combination of martial arts and a variety of rays he could shoot from different parts of his body.

Ultraman's might was short-lived, however. Very early in the fight, a small warning light in the center of his chest would begin to flash, and the narrator, in the English-dubbed versions I saw, would gravely intone (if memory serves): "The energy which Ultraman draws from the sun diminishes rapidly in Earth's atmosphere. The warning light begins to blink. If it stops blinking before he returns to the sun, Ultraman will never rise again!" Or something like that. It seemed pretty urgent, every episode.

The franchise has continued in Japan throughout the decades, over dozens of series with differing characters, as well as movies, comics, video games etc. I never followed any of them. This animated feature from Netflix, however, is of American origin, though it's set in Japan and is an unmistakably loving homage. Directed by Shannon Tindle from a script he wrote with Marc Haimes, this one gives The Big U a new alter-ego, a handsome baseball star named Sato, who is estranged from his father, a scientist who once had the Ultraman secret identity gig.

Early on, a winged monster's baby imprints on Sato/Ultraman (voiced by Christopher Sean) and regards him as his parent. The story involves our hero's efforts, aided by a flying robotic sphere (Tamlyn Tomita) to protect the baby from the schemes of the kaiju-hating Dr. Onda (Keone Young), and also to mend his relationship with his Dad (Gedde Watanabe).

The old show was deeply silly but visually elegant; this new feature is visually elegant but balances the silliness with a sincere attempt at solid characterizations and relationships. It's an entertaining movie, but it does have a large downside, at least for me: I found the baby kaiju grotesquely cutesy; it looks like a mutant human baby in a tacky Halloween costume. It's like an Anne Geddes photo gone nightmarish.

In general, I could have done with more full-grown kaiju action. But the finale of Ultraman: Rising is fairly spectacular, and there's a lot to like in this movie. I would welcome future installments in this series. I particularly like the idea of an Ultraman who treats kaiju as humanely as possible. Or, rather, ultra-humanely.