Tezuka's work from the late-1960s to the mid-1970s comprises a curious and challenging oeuvre of comics literature whose subversion of genre conventions is characterized by human darkness and the abdication of goodwill. As such, UNDER THE AIR fits right in. Indeed, for manga fans unfamiliar with Tezuka's exploration of cultural obsequiousness through markedly adult themes, this collection will feel quite raw. However, for those familiar with the famed author's frequent attempts to expose the egotism, factionalism, and all around foolishness of humanity, UNDER THE AIR, again, fits right in.
Tales of racism, misogyny, capitalism, pride, and illicit relations populate this book. The range is staggering. So too is the complexity with which the author handles these topics. Not every vignette is great, but most of them get the job done when it comes to articulating something coarse, perverse, or ironically sanguine about the human condition.
The first story, "Joe's Visitor," is probably the best. A white man returns from Vietnam after having commanded a platoon of black soldiers. Lieutenant Wiley O'Hara is a staunch white supremacist, but to his dismay, doctors saved his life by using the heart (and several other internal organs) of a black man who gave his life in the line of duty. "Joe's Visitor" was published in September 1968, and yet, modern-day nationalism tells us this is neither an entirely uncommon nor far-fetched scenario. When O'Hara confronts Joe's living relatives, "buried in the trash of Harlem," he tries to put a bullet in the lingering reality that "black filth" and "white pride" have no distinguishing features except for those he contrives for himself. Needless to say, reconciliation is a long way off . . . but not impossible.
UNDER THE AIR also includes a pair of stories that serve as a delightful commentary on economic inequality and the amusing proclivities of the wealthy. In "The Voice of Night," Eiichi Rich abandons his penthouse once a week in favor of a ruddy shack so he can people watch. He falls in love with a homeless woman, Yuri, whom is running from her own suite of problems. Neither are the person they seem to be, and neither are remotely close to being the person they desire to be.
"Chameleon" is similar, but far more devious. Tsukima, a corporate spy, hopes to end his five-year stint at a pharmaceutical manufacturer. It's up to him to muster the courage to either push for the truth or to get his money and get out. But as readers of Tezuka's darker comics know all too well: whenever a character thinks they're in control, they're not; and whenever a character presumes only two options are available, the harsh reality is that there are none. Such is the fate of Tsukima and his associates.
A few of the vignettes filling UNDER THE AIR are structurally simple but thematically weighty: "Illicit Love" tracks a brother-sister romance heeled by paranoia and societal expectations. Other vignettes are the opposite -- thematically unassuming but with an impressive and layered narrative: both "Telephone" and "Catastrophe in the Dark" carry all the eeriness of The Twilight Zone and then some; the latter of which is about a radio show host who is haunted by a woman whose death he feels he could have prevented.