he third movie in the extensive Patlabor continuum, WXIII: Patlabor takes the series in a new direction by leaving the series' leads almost entirely behind. Instead of Noa Izumi, Capt. Goto and their robot-piloting special police unit, the film focuses on a couple of ordinary detectives dealing with an extraordinary case. A series of grisly murders commands the attention of the Tokyo police force, sending detective Shinichiro Hata and his older partner Takeshi Kusumi on a quiet, ground-pounding investigation. Coincidentally, during that investigation, Shinichiro meets a lovely young woman and forms an attachment to her; later, he comes to suspect she has some involvement in the crimes.
The investigation proceeds slowly and a bit ploddingly, until coincidence makes Shinichiro and Takeshi the first responders to what seems like a possible industrial or electrical accident. But once onsite, they run into a horrific, twisted monster that's prone to violent slaughter. Suddenly, the quiet police procedural becomes a monster/horror movie, as plans are made to lure the creature into a trap. Meanwhile, Shinichiro's detective work pays off and the monster's origins become clear, as events build to a seemingly inevitable and fated conclusion. Finally, the Patlabor regulars are brought in for cameos, though they're seen through Shinichiro's eyes as competent, distant specialists rather than the flawed and often comedic human characters that Patlabor fans have come to expect.
The first of three DVDs in the WXIII: Patlabor "ultimate edition" box set includes the movie and a few minutes of trailers. Another disc contains supplemental materials—separate documentaries on the Patlabor series, on WXIII in particular and on the cast, plus extensive art galleries and a two-minute "pilot film" for the project. Sandwiched between the two is an extremely odd and offbeat disc of "Minipato" shorts, otherwise known as "Mobile Police Patlabor Minimum." Two of the 12-minute "Minipato" parodies dissect the Patlabor world in surprisingly technical detail, while the third is a weirdly abstract and philosophical tongue-in-cheek exposé about the Patlabor team's addiction to dried goby. All three shorts are CGI-animated in a cute and cartoony style meant to look like paper-cutout theater.
A beautiful tone poem with padding
WXIII: Patlabor itself is a somewhat flawed film, a bit on the slow and draggy side, and so packed with atmosphere, pregnant pauses, grim silences, dark nights and rainy days that it eventually begins to feel like a slow, sleepy pan across an immobile bulk of dead plot weight rather than a dynamically unfolding story. Still, it's similar in tone and flavor to some other serious anime films that have won a cult following, including Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade and the previous
Patlabor movies. Visually and stylistically, it's more like Jin-Roh than anything else; the human characters are animated in a relatively realistic style, and set against highly detailed
backgrounds, and the design lends them weight and substance.
This is in direct contrast to the second disc's "Minipato" shorts, which are animated simplistically, with characters cleverly designed to look like cardboard cutouts taped to chopsticks and being manually maneuvered like shadow-puppets. The first two shorts, which address the details of Patlabor's weaponry and its robot design, respectively, feature sophisticated though somewhat goofy scripts, with distinctly silly voices, particularly in the surprisingly appealing and fun dub. The third takes things to extremes, with extremely recondite language aimed at a fluffy story. It's almost as though the "Minipato" makers were deliberately mocking WXIII's slightly overblown style, though the two projects are entirely separate things. Still, while "Minipato" is distinctly on the lightweight side, good for a single watch and a laugh, its cutout-puppet-theater style is unique and adorable.
WXIII: Patlabor is neither unique nor adorable, but it does bear repeated watching, for those who can deal with the pacing. In fact, it holds up best on repeated viewings; since the central mystery doesn't feel terribly mysterious, there's little surprise to be lost, but subsequent viewings make it possible to part the veil of the tangled plot threads and delve into the details of the animation and the characters' uncommonly rich and internal lives, which they only express in very subtle ways. WXIII: Patlabor is rarely gripping in the manner of a thriller, but it's a beautiful tone poem that puts an unusually somber and thoughtful spin on the traditional Japanese monster movie.
Personally, I found the all-supplementals disc fairly dull, but then I've never been much of a Patlabor obsessive. Serious fans in need of maximum detail will likely feel differently.
— Tasha
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