To its credit, Tetsuwan Girl sparked my interest in the history of women’s baseball in Japan. Apparently, there was a short-lived professional women’s league from 1950 to 1951, and I would be interested to know which plot elements, if any, were lifted from actual events. The manga itself presents a disjointed, hyperreal glimpse of occupied Japan at its most volatile. Through Takahashi’s eyes, everyone appears half-crazed, and baseball is less of a focus than the corruption and exploitation behind the women’s league, which grants a fiery anti-hero celebrity status.
Unfortunately, shallow characterization and pulp cruelty sink a potentially decent plot. Takahashi chooses to revel in the improbable, from kidnappings and blackmail to an exaggerated, anachronistic portrayal of American female players. Tome is meant to be an irrational, angry vixen with an indomitable spirit that even the most insufferable oppression fails to stifle. Since Takahashi’s noirish sensibilities are ill-suited for starry-eyed fair play on a baseball field or hard-won fame, we’re spared endless training sequences in favor of shady business dealings intended to capitalize on post-war resentment and antagonism. As a result, however, Tome is little more than a tool, a loose cannon at that. She plays too little to be inspiring, and her skill seems incidental. To heighten dramatic tension and render her actions heroic, the game must therefore be especially risky -- unrealistically so.
Many sports manga lack credibility, of course, but Tetsuwan Girl’s fatal flaw is its quieter moments, which present too realistic a contrast. It's a pity the manga doesn't quite work, because the art is evocative and the understated relationship between Katsuya and Tome adds heart to the story. If only Tetsuwan Girl were a tragic crime caper ala Bonnie and Clyde. Instead, Bonnie is stuck playing baseball.