It’s hard to explain exactly how weird things felt in the late 90s. The world was obsessed with the upcoming millennium, and the anime industry was basically losing its mind over a new toy: 3D computer graphics. Most of it looked terrible. Then came Blue Submarine No. 6, or Ao no Roku-gou, if you want to be proper about it. It was 1998, and Gonzo was a young studio trying to prove they weren't just another name in the credits. They decided to take a cult-classic 1960s manga by Satoru Ozawa and turn it into a four-part OVA series that looked like nothing else on the market. Honestly, it was a gamble that changed the industry, even if the CG looks a bit like a PlayStation 1 cutscene by today's standards.
The plot isn't your typical "save the world" trope. It’s bleaker. A genius scientist named Zorndyke—who looks about as tired as anyone would be after ending the world—decides humanity is a lost cause. He melts the ice caps, floods the Earth, and creates a race of hybrid sea creatures to inherit the planet. Billions die. The remnants of the world's navies form "Blue," an international fleet trying to stop Zorndyke's creations from finishing the job.
What Blue Submarine No. 6 Got Right About the Future
People talk about the "look" of the show, but the themes are what actually stuck. Most post-apocalyptic stories are about rugged survivors fighting zombies or mutants. This was different. It asked if we even deserved to survive. Zorndyke isn't a cackling villain; he's more like a disappointed parent who’s decided to burn the house down and start over with a better family.
The Protagonists Aren't Heroes
Tetsu Hayami is a mess. When we meet him, he’s a former pilot who’s basically given up, scavenging for scrap in a flooded city. He doesn't want to save the world. He's grumpy, cynical, and kind of a jerk. Then you have Kino Mayumi, the young, idealistic pilot who represents the "Blue" organization. Their dynamic isn't a romance—it’s a clash of worldviews.
- Hayami sees the nuance in the "monsters."
- Kino sees a war that needs to be won.
- The audience is stuck in the middle, wondering if the hybrid creatures are actually the victims.
Gonzo used a hybrid technique. They layered traditional 2D hand-drawn characters over 3D backgrounds and mechanical designs. At the time, this was revolutionary. Before this, 3D in anime was usually just a clunky rotating ship or a weirdly smooth door opening. Blue Submarine No. 6 tried to integrate them into every frame. Sometimes it works beautifully, especially with the lighting in the underwater scenes. Other times, the "Musca" (the enemy bio-ships) look like they were rendered on a toaster. But the ambition? You can't knock the ambition.
The Sound of the Deep Sea
We have to talk about the music. If you haven't heard the soundtrack by The Thrill, you're missing out on one of the coolest creative choices in anime history. Instead of the usual orchestral swells or generic J-pop, they went with big-band jazz.
It's frantic. It’s brassy. It feels like something out of a noir film set at the bottom of the ocean. It gives the combat scenes a rhythmic, chaotic energy that separates it from Evangelion or Gundam. It’s a vibe.
Why the CG Matters Today
If you watch it now, you might laugh at some of the textures. But look closer at how they handled the water. Water is the hardest thing to animate in 3D. Gonzo spent a massive chunk of their budget just trying to make the ocean feel alive, oppressive, and vast. They influenced a whole generation of digital directors. Without this OVA, we probably don't get the visual style of Last Exile or the experimental CG in Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo.
The Ethics of Zorndyke’s New World
The core of Blue Submarine No. 6 is the confrontation between Hayami and Zorndyke. It’s one of those rare moments in anime where the "final boss" doesn't have a giant laser (well, he has something similar, but that's not the point). He has a philosophy. Zorndyke creates Mutio—a graceful, silent aquatic humanoid—and the terrifying Verg, a shark-like general who is desperate for his creator's approval.
The tragedy of Verg is honestly the highlight of the series. He’s a monster who just wants to be a "real son." He hates humans because he's told they are the enemy, but he’s also deeply insecure about his own existence. When Hayami interacts with a female Mutio, it breaks the binary of "us vs. them." It forces the characters (and us) to realize that the new world isn't coming—it's already here.
Misconceptions About the Ending
A lot of people think the ending is a bit too "peace and love" for a series that started with global genocide. I disagree. It’s not about forgiveness. It’s about the realization that fighting for the "old world" is a waste of time because the old world is gone. The Blue Submarine isn't just a weapon; it becomes a witness to the transition of the planet.
How to Watch It Now
Finding a high-quality version can be a bit of a hunt depending on where you live. Discotek Media did a Blu-ray release a few years back that cleaned up the 2D elements significantly, though the 3D renders are stuck in their original resolution. You can't really "remaster" 90s CG without rebuilding it from scratch, so it has this specific "crunchy" aesthetic that is actually becoming popular again in the "retrogaming" and "vaporwave" communities.
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If you’re going in for the first time:
- Watch the subtitles. The English dub is fine, but the original Japanese performances carry a weight that matches the somber tone better.
- Focus on the background art. The hand-painted ruins of flooded cities are hauntingly beautiful.
- Listen for the jazz. Don't skip the credits.
Key Takeaways for Anime Fans
Blue Submarine No. 6 remains a landmark for several reasons. It proved that digital production was viable for high-end boutique projects. It moved away from the "villain of the week" structure and leaned into a short, cinematic format. Most importantly, it tackled environmental collapse without being preachy. It just showed you a world that had moved on without us.
The series is short. Four episodes. You can finish it in an afternoon. It’s a time capsule of a moment when the anime industry was terrified of the future but absolutely desperate to build it. It’s messy, it’s loud, and it’s occasionally ugly, but it has more soul in its digital pinky finger than most modern "isakai" shows have in their entire run.
Actionable Insights for Your Next Watch:
- Compare the Manga: If you can find the 1960s manga, read it. It’s wild to see how much Gonzo changed the story to fit a modern (at the time) ecological narrative. The original is much more of a traditional adventure.
- Study the Hybrid Tech: Watch for scenes where 2D characters move inside 3D cockpits. Notice the "jitter" where the two styles don't quite match—it’s a fascinating look at the birth of modern anime production.
- Soundtrack Search: Look up "The Thrill - Blue Submarine No. 6 OST" on your streaming platform of choice. It’s excellent driving music, especially if it’s raining.
- Check Out Gonzo’s Later Work: If you like the "weird tech" vibe, move on to Last Exile or Bakuon Rettō. You’ll see the DNA of Blue Submarine everywhere in their early 2000s catalog.