Tôkyô, paradisiacal? One might be led to believe so, walking down the streets with Arima Rikuto — young, lazy, wealthy and handsome, and sporting an impressive gallery of female successes. From the Rainbow Bridge overseeing the bay to the “Blue Note” in Aoyama, the whole city seems to be made for nonchalant walks, romantic afternoons and evenings by moonlight. All this would be perfect, if there wasn’t at least a shadow in this “Garden of Delights” that is Rikuto’s playground — the memory of Tsubaki, who left him for another four years ago, and whom he tries to forget.

Along the pages of this two-volume narrative, Watase Seizo is not unlike his main character — dilettante, epicurian and something of a poseur, more concerned about laying out the portrait of a vaguely urbane and resolutely idyllic Tôkyo, than progressing in the story. So yes, there are some reminiscence of the Futuropolis gand (Avril, Goetting and Petit-Roulet) in this “ligne claire” and this universe of cocktails, miles away from the usual Japanese manga fare.
But curiosity aside, Tôkyô Eden seems rather bland and without much personality — like his postcard-like illustrations that open each chapter of this book, Watase Seizo never really manage to bring to vibrant life this city, which ends up being nothing but a pretext, a vague background devoid of substance.
Only remain a few illuminating panels, wher the intimacy of a moment or the subtely of an atmosphere nearly takes the reader by surprise.

To those who would like to take a bite of the Japanese “Big Apple”, I can only recommend Inoue Santa’s Tôkyô Tribes (for passion) or Fujisawa Tooru’s GTO (for authenticity). For the others, there is this “paradisical” promenade, tranquil and nonchalant, with nothing to really dislike — but nothing to really remember either.