Shin Kamen Rider: who wouldn’t want to watch an action flick about a grasshopper-man hybrid?

Writer and director Hideaki Anno – the visionary behind cult anime hit Neon Genesis Evangelion – grew up watching tokusatsu: Japanese live-action films and TV shows that lean heavily on practical special effects.

One of his idols was Kamen Rider, the protagonist of the 1971 series of the same name, a genetically augmented man-grasshopper, riding around and fighting evil on the back of a souped-up motorcycle.

Decades later, in 2023, Anno faithfully recreated Kamen Rider’s story as part of his Shin trilogy (shin means “new” in Japanese), three bold reimaginings of the stories and characters that captivated him as a child.

His first two films in the trilogy, Shin Godzilla (2016) and Shin Ultraman (2022), were critically acclaimed and both carried clear messages. Shin Godzilla is an avant garde critique of bureaucratic idiocy in the face of an otherworldly threat, whereas Shin Ultraman is a feelgood, optimistic tale of a gigantic alien superhero determined to save humanity from itself.

Shin Kamen Rider (sometimes called Shin Masked Rider), however, has a worldview that sits tantalisingly in the middle of this tonal gulf. It is both cynical about humanity’s tendency to make things worse for itself, and insistent that we need to fight the good fight anyway.

The one doing the fighting is Kamen Rider, whose true name is Takeshi Hongo (Sosuke Ikematsu), a young man kidnapped by an evil organisation called Shocker. The organisation transforms him, The Island of Doctor Moreau-style, into a horrifically strong, fast and agile grasshopper-human hybrid. But right before they flip the figurative good-to-evil switch, a disgruntled Shocker employee, Ruriko Midorikawa (Minami Hamabe), sets him free. Ruriko and the newly liberated Hongo unite and resolve to take Shocker down, one bloody showdown at a time.

As Hongo and Ruriko battle increasingly Lovecraftian abominations on their crusade to topple Shocker, they encounter another poor soul augmented against his will: Hayato Ichimonji (Tasuku Emoto), the organisation’s second swing at a compliant grasshopper-themed super soldier. But Anno’s optimism wins out. Rather than murdering Hayato, they decide to free him from his brainwashing and recruit him.

What makes Kamen Rider so compelling is that he regularly contends with the fact that he doesn’t want the powers he’s been saddled with. He’s a hero who could save the day, if only he had the stomach for what that may entail.

In spite of its bloodiness, Shin Kamen Rider is a profoundly hopeful film. Kamen Rider has been chopped up, reassembled and fused with insect DNA, but refuses to give up in the face of monstrous odds, regardless of whether he can succeed. And if Kamen Rider never gives up, why, even in a world rife with injustice, would we?

It’s also a thrilling ride. The film has a gorgeously evocative original soundtrack by Shunsuke Kikuchi, and utilises the almost Grindhouse-level of unsubtlety of the 1971 series’ crash-zooms, typography and editing. In short, Anno evokes the energy and spirit of the old series with such brazenness and lack of irony that it feels utterly new again. Nothing will make you feel like a kid again quite as much as when the skittish, mild-mannered Hongo transforms into Kamen Rider, mask snapping shut, eyes lighting up, and crimson scarf billowing behind in his wake. It’s primal, magical stuff.

• Shin Kamen Rider is available worldwide on Amazon Prime under the title Shin Masked Rider. Find more recommendations of what to stream in Australia here