Their Work Is Far Too Mundane for World Domination: Mysteries of Superhero Teams I Noticed as an Adult

The other day, I was flipping through cable channels when I came across an old Japanese superhero team show.

As a child, I was glued to these shows every week. The heroes defeated the monster, then finished the battle in a giant robot. It was a wonderfully simple world.

Watching one again as an adult, however, I found all sorts of things difficult to ignore.

One mystery after another began to emerge—things I had never noticed as a child, or perhaps had noticed but simply did not care about.

They Want to Conquer the World, but Their Operations Are on the Scale of a Neighborhood Association

First, there is the evil organization.

Its ultimate goal is usually world domination.

What it actually does, however, is little more than hand out poisoned candy to children in the neighborhood or hypnotize local residents.

For an organization with the grand ambition of conquering the world, its operational range is remarkably small.

Surely there are more efficient approaches, such as occupying the national parliament or targeting the center of government.

Every week, it develops a new monster, causes a minor disturbance in a residential neighborhood, and has the monster defeated by the superhero team.

Then it repeats the process dozens of times.

The evil organization must have budgets and performance reviews too, so it is remarkable that none of its executives are ever held accountable.

What is more, Japan’s Self-Defense Forces and police are almost nowhere to be seen.

Depending on the series, the heroes were supposedly part of a global defense force or a secret United Nations organization. How exactly were these organizations being run?

Were they funded through the national budget? If taxpayers were paying for them, surely the public deserved an explanation.

Once you become an adult, you cannot help wondering about organizational charts and budgets.

The World Is in Danger, Yet Everyone Is Relaxing in a Coffee Shop

The next concern is the heroes’ attitude toward work.

They are supposed to be fighting an organization bent on world domination, yet they seem strangely relaxed whenever they are not transformed.

They sit around chatting in a coffee shop, eating snacks, and fooling around with one another.

The Yellow Ranger, in particular, somehow has a strong reputation for being a big eater.

That image probably owes a great deal to the Yellow Ranger in an early series who loved curry. Merely being yellow now makes a character look perfectly natural with food in hand.

Even so, how can they remain so relaxed when the enemy might attack at any moment?

Normally, they would be on alert, gathering intelligence and training.

Instead, they are cheerfully eating snacks again today.

In a sense, it is the ideal workplace.

For Some Reason, Both Monsters and Heroes Assemble at a Quarry

Then, once the fighting begins, the setting is invariably a quarry deep in the mountains.

The monster that was rampaging through a shopping district moments ago is suddenly in the mountains in the next scene.

Somehow, all the heroes are there too.

How did they get there?

The artificially cut rock face is also fully visible in the background. It clearly is not a natural mountain.

Of course, I know the reason.

A location like that is convenient for filming explosions.

Within the story, however, it is truly strange.

If the evil organization continued its rampage in a residential area, the heroes would presumably find it much harder to fight.

Instead, the villains go out of their way to move somewhere remote and give the heroes a fair fight.

For an organization plotting world domination, it shows remarkable consideration for the neighbors.

Why Is the Commander the Only One Who Can Act So Well?

There is one more thing I found strange even as a child.

The superhero team is made up almost entirely of young, fresh-faced actors.

For some reason, however, the commander or chief who directs them always has an unusual air of authority.

That is because the role is played by a veteran actor whom you also see in other television dramas and films.

While the young team members energetically shout, “Yes, sir!” the chief can tighten the entire scene simply by sitting in a chair and delivering a single line.

The difference in acting ability is clearer than any insignia of rank.

Looking back now, I understand the production team’s reasoning.

They presumably wanted to center the show on young actors while casting at least one veteran to give the production some weight.

As a child, however, I knew nothing about that.

I simply watched and thought, “I’ve seen this commander on another show too.”

Now I understand.

The most dependable person in that command room was not so much the chief of the superhero team as the cast member with the longest acting career.

Why Defeat the Same Monster Twice?

The greatest mystery is why the monsters become gigantic.

The superhero team uses its finishing move and defeats the monster.

Good. The case is closed.

But the moment you think that, the monster returns as a giant.

A giant robot then appears, and they fight all over again.

When you think about it calmly, this is an extraordinary duplication of effort.

Why not become gigantic from the beginning?

Better yet, if the monster can become gigantic, why not do so before the heroes transform and simply crush the town underfoot?

Yet the monster always waits until after its first defeat to grow.

This mystery also becomes easy to solve once you are an adult.

They have to sell robot toys.

If the monster does not become gigantic, the giant robot has no reason to appear.

In other words, the evil organization cooperates with the sponsor’s sales plan every week.

Rather than conquering the world, it is contributing to toy sales.

The Real Enemy I Discovered as an Adult

Looking back, superhero team shows are full of mysteries.

The evil organization seeking world domination repeatedly carries out operations on the scale of a neighborhood association, the heroes relax in a coffee shop, the battles take place at a quarry, and the monsters become gigantic to sell toys.

As a child, none of that bothered me in the slightest.

I simply thought the heroes were cool.

As an adult, however, I cannot help noticing inconsistencies in the setting, production costs, and the sponsor’s commercial interests.

I criticize the evil organization’s strategy, question the heroes’ work ethic, and even begin to doubt the purpose of the giant robot.

Compared with an evil organization plotting world domination, a middle-aged man who complains about a children’s television show is a far more hopeless case.