This Japanese-anime theatrical feature via Toho Studios is an “original” – that is, not inspired directly by pre-existing comic books or illustrated novels. Still, longtime otaku (anime fans) will recognize familiar genre cliches: a colorful, futuristic team of shape-shifting robot/powered-armor clad fighters (many of them teenagers), government conspiracies, a little rodentlike pet around for no reason, and much strobe-like combat mayhem as the fast-moving script rushes toward action apocalypse. One either jams on this stuff or one doesn’t. In the latter case, headache tablets might come in handy.
The script trades (a little) on something not very well appreciated in the west, the awe felt by urban Japanese of yesteryear for fire and firefighting (a holdover of feudal days when wood and paper comprised most building material). Some thirty years in the future, Earth survived a global catastrophe of infernos and volcanoes, after ordinary people suddenly started combusting and wielding a remarkable flame (depicted in stylized, purple-hued fashion).
The mutant “Burnish” humans with such fire-power are feared and considered terrorists. High-tech agencies such as the Special Mobile Firefighter Rescue Unit don robot suits and freeze weapons to extinguish their blazes, save the innocent, and imprison Burnish gangs.
But not long into the adventure, director Hiroyuki Imaishi springs the surprise that fans could already predict, that youthful Mad Burnish “boss” Lio Fotia is a misunderstood good guy. Ace firefighter Galo Thymos, originally a nemesis (and prone to repetitious boastful dialogue about his “burning firefighter’s soul”), finds out the real evildoers are the popular Governor Kray Foresight and his government goons, who actually plot to exploit imprisoned Burnish in an amoral space-project mission.
Much brawling results, plus characters self-consciously striking action-figure type poses (usually with huge graphic advertising their name or the affiliated gadgets-cum-weaponry). A distinguishing feature here is a consistently stylized, jagged drawing design, emphasizing repetitious patterns of triangles—as flames, spaceship components, character anatomy—plus a strikingly simplified color palette that would not have gone far beyond Samurai Jack or yesteryear’s EGA computer screens.
The dialogue contains a few PG-level profanities, whilst “fan service” cheesecake, a genre hazard, is nearly nonexistent. Best of luck to viewers of all ages understanding the extraterrestrial-dimensional explanation for it all near the end. Optional for children's film collections specializing in anime, science fiction, or fantasy.