Tokyo, flooded from a premature melting of the polar ice caps, harbors what's left of an international navy set on fighting back the hordes of genetic mutants organized by the recluse Professor Zorndyke. The grizzled captain of Blue Submarine No. 6, the under-manned flagship of a submariner fleet, sends a young, impulsive Mayumi Kino to enlist the services of a surly ex-naval pilot, Tetsu Hayami. The fatalistic Hayami refuses, which drives an infuriated Kino storming into the waterlogged streets of Tokyo just as a Zorndyke strike begins. Struggling to get back to No. 6, an unflappable Kino gets stranded on a dock and trapped by a massive, arachnid-shaped mecha. Hayami, either caving in to an innate sense of duty or hungry for a little action, arrives in a motorboat, rescues Kino and shuttles them both to No. 6 which is in the midst of developing a strategy to combat the onslaught of Zorndyke's forces. With tortured maverick flare, Hayami leaps into a battle pod with Kino as his gunner and chases down an enemy craft only to be struck with an overwhelming sense of compassion when confronted with the frail face of his foe.

Though its fusion of computer and traditional animation isn't a harmonious combination (its primary criticism from the otaku community), "Blue Submarine No. 6" still serves up a visual feast. But the technical aspects of the animation take a back seat to the narrative richness of this compelling work. Director Mahiro Maeda's astute attention to detail and the cinematic possibilities afforded him by the flexibility of computerized images empowers Hiroshi Yamaguchi's script with a profound thematic potency. In this first episode, Maeda and Yamaguchi focus on Hayami's return to naval service, allowing global issues to filter through the development of this central character.

For one of the first shots Maeda maneuvers the camera over the floor of Hayami's makeshift apartment. Strewn with rubbish, a hot plate and dying plants, the room rumbles with the sound of a portable gas-powered generator powering a CD player that blares discordant music, which echoes off the walls plastered with travel posters of what were once islands of paradise. Piles of news magazine back issues mark Hayami's attentiveness to the course of Zorndyke's plot, the dog tags he still wears testify to his inability to uproot his mariner identity, and used syringes evince the tactics he employs to keep going with his life despite personal demons. An image of decay that resonates with the shirtless occupant whose contemptuous smirk and resolute refusal to accompany Kino back to Blue 6 belies painful past mistakes and an unwillingness to confront those mistakes. Hayami's typical maverick flippancy carries with it an atypical tenderness; an oxymoronic humanism beats at the core of his military stoicism.

Maeda renders all of manga creator Satoru Ozawa's characters with the same level of emotional detail, capturing the nuances of human behavior with the skill of a novelist. Kino's staunch professionalism keeps her childish petulance in check. The First Mate, though burdened with few lines, radiates a calm that pacifies the crew as battles draw near. Hayami returns to No. 6 toward the end of the episode greeted with a simple nod from the Captain that acknowledges their tempestuous history and frayed friendship. But these empathetic details propel the story instead of dragging it down, keeping pace with the plot's fierce momentum.

Once firmly rooted at the center of the narrative, Hayami's strife yields to an attack on Tokyo by Zorndyke's platoons. Here Maeda's attention to detail gives life to countless citizens rebuilding a functional simulacrum of their previous community. A tethering dock constructed from what was once a busy commercial district sidewalk, a bustling street market erected using barrel drums and sail tarp, and shipping liners delivering necessary goods - all emblems of a resurrected city - get destroyed immediately by enemy fire. And Maeda, as if linking Hayami's internal turmoil with the plight of the world, preambles the attack with an intense silence - Hayami, cigarette dangling from his fingers, looking out into the horizon's calm, still waters as if there is no more peace to be had.

But the first episode challenges the archetypical military mentality, heroism against a certain evil, by introducing a strangely biological foe, something that the military doesn't understand and against which unbridled force isn't a permanent solution. The enemy is so much more powerful, but they are also essentially children, created by Zorndyke, and vulnerable to the shortsightedness of children.

The first real image of the enemy comes when Hayami runs one of the attacking mecha up onto a beach. Out of the control pod falls a frail, amphibious woman convulsing, helpless on the sand, her frightened form struggling against Hayami who carries her back to the water. It isn't until the end of the episode that the ghoulish crew of Zorndyke's mother ship appears, clamoring and hissing cries of vengeance. However, even these cartoonish villains come to be cast in the same contemplative light as the amphibious woman and the Blue 6 crew as the series proceeds.

A stylistic set back, the music is a little cheesy in this opening episode, but its jazz riffs dancing atop driving rock rhythms still infuses the action sequences with requisite excitement. And ominous minor and diminished tones temper simplistic heroism, foreshadowing the complexity of the plot to come.