TV REVIEW: Kamen Rider Zero-One (2019–20, TV Asahi/Toei Company)
My media interests range pretty far afield, both in genre and geography — Bollywood romances, K-horror, Japanese cult classics, sci-fi from the UK, Hong Kong cinema, and so on. That’s mostly on the side of feature-length films, but what about television? It used to be hard to get TV media from a country that uses PAL when your country’s media players are created exclusively for NTSC media. Streaming services like Tubi, Roku, Netflix, Hulu and so-on exist to easily bring you content from around the globe. Thanks to those services, I’ve watched several Japanese TV shows in a genre that only their country makes in amazing fashion: tokusatsu, or special effects.
These tokusatsu TV shows continue to keep the craft of practical effects alive in the face of ever-advancing CG (computer generated) imagery, even incorporating the technology into the production. The CG is always second in this respect, used to augment the earlier tech. Technology is also the premise for the show watched in this review, a Kamen Rider spinoff series made during the COVID-19 global pandemic called Kamen Rider Zero-One. It deals with the sentience potential for AI (artificial intelligence) in humanoid form called “Humagears” through the hopes and dreams of an failed comedian who is more than he seems.
The Premise: Scrawny trust-fund kid Aruto Hiden (played by actor and French cuisine chef Fumiya Takahashi) is trying to make his way in the world as a stand-up comedian, but he’s bad at his job. His late grandfather was the founder of HIDEN Intelligence — a global company that helped to bring in a new cybernetic age using AI-powered androids called “Humagears” to fill roles in the private and public sector. After being fired and replaced with a Humagear by his human boss (oops), Aruto is met by a Humagear secretary for HIDEN Intelligence named Izu (played by model-actress Noa Tsurushima) and brought to their corporate offices. It is there Aruto is not only given control over the company over more qualified candidates, but also given the Zero-One Driver Belt— a belt that allows Aruto to transform into a superhero called Kamen Rider Zero-One. Per the path of the hero, he rejects the call to adventure just moments before terrorists attack.
“Metsubojinrai.net” — a terrorist group that attacked 12 years ago to prevent a Humagears-only sector of “the city” (the city is not named) from being built —has found a way to hack Humagears to turn them into monsters called Magia. Their goal is simply the extinction of all mankind. Witnessing destruction caused by Metsubojinrai.net, Aruto changes his mind and becomes the Kamen Rider. He’s not alone: others also have Kamen Rider tech, such as straight-laced Yua Yaiba, AKA Kamen Rider Valkyrie (model-actress Hiroe Igeta) and hot-headed Isamu Fuwa, AKA Kamen Rider Vulcan (actor/YouTuber Ryutaro Okada). Both help to fight the terrorists with their own Driver Belts...but how did those two get Kamen Rider tech, if not from HIDEN? The plot ever expands from there to give increasing thrills and horrible puns from Aruto.
The Show: While it’s easy to say that Kamen Rider Zero-One is just a silly punch-up kid’s show, they are dealing with some mature themes that are simply not touched on in Western shows — namely, the possibility of emerging AI sentience and the emotional failings found in human society. My preference for this show is also tied to my fascination with the technological singularity and techno-sexuality. Like every other living and breathing man on Earth, I also fell in love with Noa Tsurushima’s portrayal of Izu. This Humagear is not half-naked or overly sexualized for the male gaze: she’s a dream-girl without the mania or pixie-like nature, driven only to serve and growing as the series progresses.
The “Singularity” is also a plot point in the show where a Humagear that reaches such a state is nearly indistinguishable from a human: they gain a full range of emotions (including and going beyond desire) and are no longer bound by their programming (i.e., they can and do make their own decisions), and the only way you’d know they were Humagears is by their easily hidden mark. It’s a fact that makes humanity frightened they could be replaced by a tool they created no longer under their control. While Singularity-affected Humagears exposed to human malice are easier to transform into Magia, the same does not hold true for Izu. At one point it’s assumed she reaches the Singularity during a simulation designed to emulate situations that would elicit strong emotions— it’s not explained how she sheds tears (the Japanese media trope to show a robot/android’s transition to humanity) or even knows how or why. Her emotion for Aruto is notable, especially when she begins to understand, like, and participate in Aruto’s corny puns. It’s all due to Aruto’s ability to treat Humagears with respect (as we should do with other humans HINT HINT) and one day, Izu will laugh… from the heart.
SHOUTOUT TO THE WRITERS: they created this wonderful show during the COVID-19 pandemic, even altering the story to accommodate the social distancing aspect of medical professionals AND the Japanese government’s pandemic protocols. And some of you couldn’t be bothered to put on a mask.
The Verdict: My techno-sexual ass may have been unduly biased thanks to Izu, but I’ll say the show’s ups and downs had me on a ride-r kick. “Now that’s a work from Aruto!”
…OK now I see why that joke’s bad —
