Review: TETSUJIN 28 opens with newsreel-style visuals setting up bits of a story that many old school anime/manga fans will find themselves terribly familiar with; the story of Japan dealing with their wartime past and the bombing of a shelved robotic military project that eventually found the fully-intact titular "iron man" in the hands of young Shotaro, controlling Testsujin 28 in the name of peace. Of course, those of us on the opposite side of the ocean know the youthful protagonist as Jimmy Sparks, as sounds of the Singer & Raskin theme bounce mercilessly throughout the minds of fans. The story plays out a bit differently in Shin Togashi's attempt to bring it to life on the big screen, but there are more than simple live-action transition problems in this big-time nostalgic kids flick.

Starting its life as a manga by Mitsuteru Yokoyama in 1956, TETSUJIN 28-GO enjoyed three anime adaptations. The first and most beloved began in 1963, running for 96 episodes (52 of which would run in the US under the GIGANTOR moniker). Two revival series would run in 1980 and 1992 respectively, but these aren't the reason you're watching a live action version right now. As the familar silhouette of Yokoyama's heroic robot fades in behind the title screen, a sudden hope that this movie succeeds in what it's attempting involuntarily wells up inside.

So where's all the magic?

Where's the wide-eyed wonder intrinsic to the giant robot genre? A combination of pretty much every facet of the movie seems bound and determined to spell the audience into apathy. First of all, the film's characters are portrayed in the most feet-dragging of manners. Shotaro waltzes from scene to scene like a ghost while the rest of the cast phone their lines in long distance. His gramps introduces the mighty, rusty Tetsujin 28 like a burned-out game show host that's tired of announcing what's behind "door number three." It's too bad, because with the right enthusiasm and a higher wattage of electricity, they could have at least propelled this into something more interesting.

Then again, perhaps the actors just weren't very fascinated with the robots or, more specifically, the lack thereof. The computer-generated representation of these classic, hulking iron beasts ends up with mixed results. At times, the crew really captures a sense of scale that a few kaiju movies (like GAMERA 3) have managed to portray successfully. Unfortunately, for each of the few concrete-crumbling moments, there are a handful of awkward and glaringly ugly attempts at bringing the 'bots to life. The CG is at its best when the robots aren't moving at all. It might not look so bad as a collection of stills or one of those horrible "movie comics" that add word bubbles to film frames, but when the metal adversaries start rumbling about, the '60s show begins to look like a 2005 Madhouse production.

The best moment of the movie comes far too early in the running time. The appearance of the sinister Black Ox mech is a rare moment in which it genuinely seems like a giant robot is attacking Tokyo Tower, twisting its girders up like an old pack of noodles. Once Tetsujin 28 hits the scene, though, everything halts east of flaccid city. This should be a shining moment in the movie. Despite the fact that Shotaro has no clue how to properly control Tetsujin, there needs to be some sort of marvel here to make the audience give a damn. This is the top of the rollercoaster, folks. It's all downhill from here.

Thus the cast and crew limp their way to the finish line at this point, crafting limp mech battles in one last effort to win the audience back from submission. Any life and spirit that the original series held is smote; not with brute force, but with passive, lazy blows. Bring the people two underpaid men in uncomfortable robot suits next time. Give us real action and some form of suspense. This may be a children's film, but even kids will view this as more of a disconcerting lullaby.