'Sailor Moon' And The Queer History Of Anime Transformations

"Mars power, make up!" I recited while raising my hand into the air and striking a pose, shouting with all the strength I could muster as a 5-year-old.

On my TV was Usagi Tsukino and two of her friends, Rei and Minako. The three had just discovered that the teacher of their etiquette seminar was actually a monster and they had to do something about it. Raising a magic pen into the air, and chanting their activation words, the trio transformed into their magical girl forms: Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars and Sailor Venus, respectively.

I didn't have a transformation pen of my own, so I'd raise a spoon from my cereal or pencil, which basically did the same thing anyway. Seemingly in another dimension, the 14-year-olds made elegant spins and slowly went from regular middle schoolers to badass superheroes.

The magical girl anime "Sailor Moon" was one of the many shows I watched and loved as a kid that, in every episode, have a moment just like this — where the heroes would power-up and defeat the bad guy. "Sailor Moon," "Digimon," "Power Rangers" and "Beetleborgs" all feature a turning point where their heroes hold up a special device, exclaim a familiar phrase and transform into something different, something more powerful. Kids like me would be transfixed, chanting the activation words and striking the ritualistic poses alongside the fictional protagonists.

Although kindergartner me couldn't have known it at the time, by the early '00s these scenes were a well-worn trope — a film technique popularized in Japanese media known as a transformation sequence. Today these routinized scenes are the cause for much nostalgia; they're shiny signifiers for what was often the climax of an episode. It's comforting to know that no matter what kind of trouble they're in, your favorite heroes just need to hold out a device, say some magic words and they will transform into a solution. For nerdy adults, talking about their favorite transformation sequences from childhood is practically daily conversation — I mean not everyone remembers what happens in the second season of "Digimon," but they can likely remember which transformations they loved because you've seen them around 9,000 times. If you look for these sequences online, you'll find multiple compilations of all the transformations in a series on YouTube, some videos having millions of views.

Shockingly, these iconic sequences weren't originally conceived out of a desire to make twentysomethings nostalgic for after school blocks of anime — although that's probably a big plus. Initially, the transformation sequence was conceived as a way for production companies to save money on animation. The scenes feature a simple, fantasy-like background and the characters aren't drawn with any specific attire which makes it it easy to edit it into every episode.

Although most western fans probably first experienced stock transformations in the US anime boom of the late '90s, use of this technique dates back to Osamu Tezuka's 1963 show "Tetsuwan Atomu", or "Astro Boy" as it's known here in the US. As Dr. Sandra Annett, an associate professor in the film department of Wilfrid Laurier University who teaches courses in Japanese and animated film explains to me, Astro Boy set the example for anime production practices.

"Hayao Miyazaki once famously lamented that 'In 1963, Tezuka created Japan's first TV anime series, "Tetsuwan Atom," or "Astro Boy," at the very low price of 500,000 yen [or 1389.00 USD] per episode. Because he established this precedent, animation productions ever after have unfortunately suffered from low budgets.'"

As a result of these budget restrictions, Dr. Annett continues, animators were forced to come up with strategies to save time and money. "According to Frederick Schodt's book "The Astro Boy Essays," these strategies include things like tome (the use of still shots or "stopped" animation), hiki-seru ("pulling cells" or moving still images in front of the camera to create the illusion of a pan), and using a "bank system" of stock footage for simple actions such as walking. This bank system was the beginning of the stock footage sequence, since it normalized the idea of saving time and labor through reused imagery."

While the "bank system" is probably the most noticeable of these visual strategies, you can find all of them being used in your favorite '90s anime television. "Astro Boy," however, wasn't the only precursor to the stock footage transformation sequence we enjoy for Sailor Moon and her Sailor Scouts. Its origins can be found in the polar opposite to mechanical boys: the magical girl genre.

Although there aren't any academic sources that can definitively state when the transformation trope started, Dr. Annett points out that fans often cite 1966's "Mahotsukai Sarii," or "Sally the Witch." In the show, the main character Sally (who, unsurprisingly, is a witch) uses her magic to change her clothing into a cute dress. Sally's transformation however wasn't in a transformation sequence scene per se; the backgrounds are specific and not something that could be used repeatedly — so although they're commonly associated, the magical girl and the transformation sequence have separate histories.

In Japan, there is a subgenre of superhero called the Henshin Hero — literally "change body" in Japanese — a hero that doesn't always have access to their abilities. This concept isn't exclusive to Japan (think Iron Man or Hulk), but it is prevalent in Japanese media like the magical girl anime genre or even in live action shows like "Ultraman," "Kamen Rider" and "Super Sentai," the original Japanese version of "Power Rangers."

For the Henshin Hero, the transformation means a power-up, the trump card that'll save the day. "In animated magical girl shows, the transformation sequence plays on the idea of girls as flexible or liminal figures," says Dr. Annett. "The 'magical girl' figure is usually a pre-teen or teenager who is half-way between child and woman, and so already in the process of transformation." This image, Dr. Annett explains, is something Heather Warren-Crow traced back to "Alice in Wonderland" in her book "Girlhood and the Plastic Image." "Alice finds herself stretching, shrinking, and being mistaken for a serpent, even though she continues to insist (however doubtfully) that she's 'a little girl,'" says Annett.

While "Sailor Moon" and other magical girl transformations have had the biggest lasting impact, Dr. Annett notes that we shouldn't forget the ways that boy characters transform in shows like "Super Sentai" or mecha shows like "Beast King GoLion" and "Armoured Fleet Dairugger XV." "Teenaged males, too, can exist in the liminal space between child and man," says Annett. "The difference is that their transformations are often expressed through science and robots, whereas girls' transformations are expressed through magic and clothing, following the typical gender roles of the 20th century media and toy industries."

Although these shows were written to represent the gendered experiences of adolescence, not everyone shared those interests. In addition to its intended female audience, the symbolism of the magical girl transformation sequence, as a power-up or a time of growth, is something that seems to resonate a lot with queer audiences.

D.J. Kirkland, a Black gay comic book artist who is heavily inspired by "Sailor Moon," cites it as the reason why he's an artist today; he even co-hosts a podcast called Magical Boys. "I remember being 7 years-old and watching 'Sailor Moon' for the first time and seeing her first transformation sequence and I was just mesmerized by it," says D.J. "Every time the Sailor Guardians held up their hands and got their nails done that matched the color of their outfits, I got my entire life."

 Growing up, D.J. rarely identified with superheroes that were meant for boys. Instead, the Sailor Scouts reminded him of the powerful women in his life. "Powerful women were very commonplace in my life growing up and they still are today, probably more so than ever," he says. "They were the ones that always stood up for me while the boys bullied me."

I asked D.J. if he thought the transformation sequences meant something specific to queer people. He said that being in the closet for queer folks is "an act of survival" and being able to watch these characters transform into something more to "fight for love and justice gave [him] hope."

"I also think that the Sailor Guardians could also be a parallel for found family, which is super important to myself and other queer folks. Especially those of us that have been rejected by our biological families," D.J. continues. "We're all magical in our own ways, our various magical abilities, whether that's singing, drawing, dancing, writing or any other skill we possess, combining our abilities together, we have the ability to create something special."

For gay men specifically, I think this appreciation of the transformation sequence is due to how rarely we see femininity portrayed as a powerful trait. Often times, when a female character is strong, it's because she toughens up. She doesn't have time to talk about clothes, she needs to kick butt. However, Sailor Moon doesn't need to reject her femininity in order to beat the bad guys. The Sailor Guardians embrace it. During their transformations, Sailor Moon and her friends get their nails done, they get cute new outfits — that is how they win the fight.

Dr. Frenchy Lunning, a professor at Minneapolis College of Design, explains that it's not just the transformed hero that is important, but their regular identities as well. "The notion that a 'regular person' could become something special — with some aspect that could set them apart from the others, is a desire developed almost immediately in people who find themselves in some way compared to the favorite child or the smart kid in school," Lunning explains. For Dr. Lunning, who co-edits "Mechademia" alongside Dr. Annett, the desire to transform is something that comes pretty early on.

"Our society is set up under capitalism as competitive; but the area in which there is the most profound prejudice in terms of this sort of privilege, is in the areas of gender and race," says Dr.Lunning. "The transformation sequence has become clarified as the assumption of power from a weakened or submissive subject position."

Lunning believes the reason these sequences are so popular among queer folks and women is because as children, they became immediately aware of their difference "and [their] need to hide it from others." They can see themselves in the young girls of shows like "Sailor Moon" who are "automatically [relegated] to a second, if not third-class future," she says. "That some sort of magic transforms them into powerful agents in society who tend to right wrongs, astound the bullies who have persecuted them, and become recognized as a force to be reckoned with, this is their own most profound desire."

This reasoning resonates really hard with me because as a gay boy, I distinctly remember the ways that my expressions of femininity were the object of ridicule. It's a way for kids to feel connected to something larger, like tapping into an ancient power. I bet that seeing feminine expressions being taken seriously, especially in a protagonist like Sailor Moon, was influential for me. Perhaps Sailor Moon is the reason I look to women in other forms of media. Maybe she's the reason I love "Buffy," listen to almost exclusively female k-pop groups or have 10 times the amount of hours on all the female "Overwatch" characters.

For Dr. Annett, the participatory factor is a large reason why these sequences are still iconic decades later.

"What fan doesn't want to say phrases like 'Honey Flash!' 'It's Morphin' Time' or 'In the name of the Moon, I will punish you!' along with their transforming hero? It's an entry point for children to 'play pretend,' and for cosplayers and fans to show their knowledge of the show," she says. "Likewise, owning a toy version of the pendant, locket, or the entire transforming robot lets audiences feel like they too can participate in the magical transformation.

"It's the only reason I can think of that would explain why people will watch the exact same thing over and over every week: because it becomes a participatory ritual, like saying the same words in a prayer over and over, that creates a feeling of connection with the transforming hero and with other fans."

Watching these shows is a kind of church-like experience. Every week we have a general idea of what to expect, we get a story with a theme that's easy to absorb and the service always ends in a similar way. Even now as an adult, whenever I watch an episode of "Sailor Moon," I will reflexively chant the activation words alongside the Sailor Scouts. Because still today there's a small part of me that believes if I say the words just right and strike the right pose, I will eventually transform.​