This review definitely contains spoilers, although it won't give away anything major, that you couldn't figure out from watching the trailers and looking at stills.

So you probably already know what Astro Boy is about: there's a scientist, Dr. Tenma, and his brilliant little boy, Toby, gets killed. So Dr. Tenma makes a robot replica of Toby, complete with Toby's memories, and gives him the most cutting-edge armaments and power source, so he can never be hurt again. But the robot version can't replace Toby, so Dr. Tenma ultimately rejects him — and he goes off to become Astro Boy.

I've grown to have a healthy appreciation for the manga of Osamu Tezuka — his medical thriller Ode To Kirihito is riveting and totally not what I expected — but writer/director David Bowers added to Tezuka's world-building in ways that totally enhanced the story for me. And a huge part of that was Bowers' vision of a world of enslaved robots, which is both funny and occasionally disturbing.

Bowers, an Aardman Animation veteran who worked on Chicken Run and Wallace And Gromit, lets his Aardman roots show most of all when he's dealing with some of the robots in the movie. From Dr. Tenma's robot servant to a flying a window-cleaning squirt bottle and squeegee, to a robot trash-can dog, the robots are always cute and silly, yet also can't help reminding you of their non-person status in the gleaming futuristic Metro City. A clever, retro-looking instructional film at the start of the movie serves to underscore this point, showing robots being used and then tossed aside, onto the giant scrap heap that Metro City floats over.

But don't worry — at no point does Astro Boy give you a dry lecture about robot rights, or the unfairness of enslaving other sentient beings. Instead, it contains tons of sly jokes and clever moments that make you sympathize and identify with the robots — even as we're rooting for Astro Boy's quest to be recognized as a human.

And that's where Astro Boy gets really interesting. Because, of course, the original story is all about Astro wanting to be a "real boy," like Pinocchio. By juxtaposing that quest with the constant reminders that all the other robots are just as aware as Astro Boy himself, the movie makes the standard "quest for humanity" a lot more complex.

Because Astro Boy is the only robot who actually appears human and is programmed with a real human's memories, he's the only bot with the option of blending in with human society. He's also almost the only bot who's not programmed with Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, which force the other robots to be servile even when they don't want to be. The more we sympathize with the other robots, who don't have the same options Astro has, the less clear-cut Astro's quest for humanity begins to appear.

Some of the most fascinating scenes in Astro Boy deal with this question of "passing" as human — early on, after Astro Boy is created, he thinks he's a "real" boy — but the other robots can see the truth at a glance. Dr. Tenma's servant bot is instructed to treat the robot boy as if he were human, and this nearly causes a robo-conniption fit. "I'm so freaking out right now!" the robot says a few times. And then later, Astro Boy knows he's a robot, but he's trying to live among humans as one of them — except that he keeps having to worry that the other robots will "out" him.

It's not much of a spoiler to say that Astro Boy gets to be accepted as a real boy by the end of the movie — but that only leaves you with more questions, particularly about how this will affect all the other robots. The movie only offers the barest hints that Astro Boy's special status could end up benefiting all his robot brothers and sisters.

There are two things I love in children's movies: world-building and subversiveness. And Astro Boy has enough of both of them to build a thousand giant robots out of.

We already talked a lot about the movie's world-building in this exclusive interview with Bowers and designers Jake Rowell and Luis Grane: the movie takes place in a floating city, which includes an entire mountain levitated above the ground. And we get little glimpses of the history of the development of the robots in this society, especially when we meet a 100-year-old robot named Zog (voiced, rather laconically, by Samuel L. Jackson.)

As for the subversiveness — well, I already talked about the fact that the movie paints Astro Boy as a bit of a race traitor (in a gentle, sly way that will not make your kids bawl, I promise.) But then the film turns around and gives us a hilariously inept trio of robot liberationists — the Robot Revolution Front, three former appliances (including a refrigerator) who make grandiose speeches that remind me of the People's Front Of Judea in Monty Python's Life Of Brian.

Unfortunately, because the members of the Robot Revolution Front are still bound by the Three Laws of Robotics, their biggest plan for defeating the human hegemony is to attack one of the humans with a particularly large feather — and tickle him. A lot.

One of the biggest cheer-worthy moments in the movie is when we meet a second robot who isn't subject to the Three Laws, and who is willing to kick some ass.

Because we don't really want to see Astro Boy struggling against vague, nebulous anti-robot prejudice, the movie gives us two clear-cut villains: the President of Metro City, who wants Astro Boy's super-advanced power source to power a new war machine, and HamEgg, a roboticist who's fallen from grace and now organizes nasty robot gladitorial matches on the surface.

And it's the former villain, the President, who provides one of Astro Boy's few weak spots. He's so transparently a satire on George Bush and other leaders who want to start bogus wars to boost their approval ratings, that he becomes a bit painful to watch. The movie is fairly subtle about its other messages, but whenever the President comes on screen, we're suddenly assaulted by neon signs blaring "POLITICAL MESSAGE." Also, you'll cringe a bit when a scientist explains the difference between Astro Boy's power source (which is intrinsically good and morally pure) and a separate, evil power source, which creates negative vibes and aggression.

But those are minor quibbles, really — the spoon-feeding around the President only stands out because the rest of the movie is so determined to let you draw your own conclusions. There are no easy answers to Astro Boy's dilemma — he feels like a human boy, but he knows he really belongs to the subjugated robot class — and the movie doesn't really attempt to offer us any.

And that's what makes this such a great kids' movie. It's pure, engaging fun pretty much the whole way through, with a few bits of sadness, like when Astro Boy's flesh-and-blood model dies (there's no blood; he just vanishes.) But the movie takes the "kid caught between two worlds" plot you've seen a million times before and adds an extra layer of weirdness. Both you and your kid will be thrilled by all the zoomy flying-robot action, but you'll both be left debating exactly where Astro Boy should want to belong anyway. And that's definitely one of the hallmarks of a good movie.

Firs off, go ahead and breathe a sigh of relief — the modern day Imagi recreation is very close to the Tezuka Astro Boy we know and love. The feel, look, attitude and even his robot smile all remain in the Tezuka wheelhouse. Imagi Studios went to great lengths to make sure that it stayed that way throughout the film, they even brought in Tezuka's son to keep them all in line.

Their efforts weren't in vain: the shiny, robot-heavy futuristic floating city of Metro City (Earth itself being too dirty for any civilized folk to inhabit) is full of charm and style. The whole place practically glitters, it looks so clean and new, but the warmth that is little Astro Boy is still there. He still struggles with acceptance in this world, his loveless relationship with his maker and father Dr. Tenma (voiced by Nic Cage) and finding a place where he belongs.

At the special preview show for Astro Boy, director David Bowers took us through a host of clips detailing decisions made by the international production, which had studios both in America and in Japan.

The first clip showed the "birth" of Astro Boy. A somber Dr. Tenma, channeling his inner mad scientist, is hell bent on bringing his recently deceased son back to life. All that remains of his little boy is a red baseball cap. But that's okay, because the Ministry of Science has the know-how on how to extract human memories from one strand of hair. He scrolls through blueprints and crafts together a body. The round Dr. Elefun appears (voiced by Bill Nighy) with the all important blue-core energy. The glowing matter is what brings the little robot to life, but as with all things that contain such great power there's a down side — but more on that later. Lights flash electricity is shot out in a Dr. Frankenstein-esque manner and the little boy comes to life, to the mesmerized delight of Dr. Tenma.

The entire creation moment was fantastic, but it raised the only concern I have for this picture. Is Nic Cage too familiar? Granted, Cage is a huge fan of Astro Boy, and at the meeting Bowers explained how Cage had tried to bring a live-action Astro to life, once upon a time, but still something about his voice removed me from Tenma. Ah well, it's a small complaint, that I'm sure will be cast aside after you view the movie longer than a few short minutes — here's hoping, at least.

The next clip showed the problem with robot and human assimilation. Sadly once Tenma brings the little Astro home he doesn't act exactly like his dead son. This makes Tenma angry, and he sends him to his room debating on whether or not to throw him out forever, since he's just a constant reminder of his former kid. Little Astro sits on his bed, totally unaware that he's a robot and wonders why his father no longer loves him. But while he's moping a little pair of worker bots come to his window, Mr. Squirt and SQUEEGEE, and guess what they do? The two little bots talk amongst themselves in their secret robot language, and all of a sudden little Astro realizes he too can speak the robot lingo. And soon takes off on a rocket boot self discovery flight pattern, where he punches right through a mountain.

The robots in this picture are brilliant, especially the hap-hazard creations from Ham Egg (Nathan Lane's Oliver Twist Fagin like character). They allow for a lot of creativity and exploration as to how far the science has grown, plus I love robots that have one particular job, like Mr. Squirt.

As we mentioned before, the blue core power source presents a problem for the wee robotic wonder. The government, represented by the evil tongued Donald Sutherland's President Stone, craves the blue bit of energy and will stop at nothing to get it. Even if that means deploying a whole fleet of flying soldiers, in futuristic flying machines. The army blasts Astro with their ammo trying to get his gears to go kaput, so they can deliver the goods to their leader. Who, in turn, builds an even bigger Peace Keeper Robot (first picture) who does anything but keep the peace. Instead the giant beast absorbs power, growing stronger and stronger and in turn, wrecks havoc on the floating city.

In the end it looks like it's up to Astro and his band of dirty Earth-bound misfit friends and their trash-can dog to save the day from the giant robot.

Bottom line: the movie is about more than just cute robots and funny characters. The few clips we viewed were polished to perfection, and the original feel of Tezuka's series is intact. I really hope American kids learn to embrace this character because he's got the rocket boot-strappy know-how of a great hero. Plus who doesn't love that hair? So far so good, we can't wait to see more.

The full trailer will be released in September but you can see more clips next week if you'll be at San Diego Comic Con on Thursday in room 6BCF.

You might have noticed this trope in the recent Day The Earth Stood Still meh-fest, when Keanu/Klaatu goes to the McDonald's to hang out with a fellow alien, who's been hiding out here for decades trying to decide whether we suck or blow. And doggone it, the old guy has totally lost his alien perspective. He loves McDonald's, for one thing. For another, he's seen enough movies to pick up that thing where he speaks a foreign language, until he's saying something really important — and then he switches to English.

Okay, sure, he still recommends that Klaatu sterilize the Earth. But he also encourages Klaatu to try those crispy apple pies first.

But he's not the worst sell-out. The worst is the Doctor from Doctor Who, who's totally gone human the first time we see him, in 1963's "An Unearthly Child." He's ditched his Gallifreyan tunic, with the attractive posture collar, for some pastiche of an English gentleman outfit. (I totally blame the lack of the collar for William Hartnell's bad posture.) But the worst comes in the early 1970s, when the Doctor spends a few years stuck on Earth and starts actually driving a car and eating at Wimpy's Burgers. (In the novelization of "Invasion Of The Dinosaurs." I think.) Did you ever eat a Wimpy Burger? They're a great example of truth in advertising.

Commenter Hamslicer points out that I somehow missed the aliens in Third Rock From The Sun, who get so assimilated they not only eat our junk food, they also get obsessed with our human innovations, like shampoo and conditioner in the same bottle.

Rule #1: You can always tell when an alien has gone human. They start eating our crappy fast food.

Sometimes they even forget their true nature, like Beth in that one Torchwood episode. She's an alien sent here to gather intelligence for an invasion, but she believes she's human — despite the huge spikes and alien tech that pop out of her arm like a really bad rash.

That's also sort of the premise of The Stranded, a Virgin Comics title that's (supposedly) being developed as a Sci Fi Channel series. Five amazingly stylish people realize that their entire childhoods are a lie, because they're Sleepers, aliens who were stranded here on Earth, with secret superpowers and stuff. (I think the Sci Fi version may be dead, which is too bad, because both the comic and the TV pilot were written by the great Mike Carey.)

Rule #2: Aliens who forget they're aliens always have amazing superpowers, and pretty great hair.

And then there are the aliens who remember they're aliens, and even keep sight of their reason for being here... but they just get obsessed with human trivia. Like Bridwell, from Astro City #5. He's been sent to Earth to decide whether his matriarchal insect-people race, the Enelsians, should invade. And he gets caught up in our trivial dramas, and obsessed with our petty vices, especially boastfulness. It's unfortunate he happens to live in the same building as the braggart superhero Crackerjack. But even Crackerjack's habit of taking too much credit for his exploits isn't enough to make Bridwell turn against humanity — it's a group of gossipy old ladies boasting that they always knew who Crackerjack was, that finally makes Bridwell decide to wipe us out. Humans!

Rule #3: Aliens who spend too much time here always get a little too close to our bad side.

Let's face it, the best kind of aliens living secretly on Earth are the ones who take over, without any of this "going soft" business. Like the aliens in They Live, who finally use our mass media and pop culture for the proper purpose — controlling us and turning us into brainwashed slaves. (But that means they have to work in the television industry, which is a kind of punishment.) Ditto for those aliens in the story "Four Eyes" in the anthology The Nightmare Room.

Of course, even when sneaky aliens manage to take over the Earth without losing their edge or getting distracted by all our shiny nice human culture, they still end up taking on our foibles and obsessions — like the alien parasite/symbiote creatures in Stephenie Meyer's The Host. (By then, of course, they're not secret any more.)

Rule #4: You can't even rule humans in secret without becoming sorta human.

The manga and anime of Osamu Tezuka routinely feature "reformed alien spies" as supporting characters, according to this fansite.

The animated version of Ambassador Magma, features a similar theme, as Murakami Tomoko, is killed and replaced by an alien. Tomoko was the mother of Murakami Mamoru, the main human character of the series, and the alien eventually became so absorbed in the role, that she believed that she was Murakami Tomoko, so much so, that she defended her ‘family’ against attacks by her own kind, losing her life in the process.

The Irresponsible Captain Tylor features an android spy named Harumi. However, she is much more than a mere spy, for she is the alien’s best intelligence analyst, and even a saboteur. Despite her best attempts, her attempts at sabotage always fail in humorous encounters with Captain Tylor’s dumb luck. Though she is an android and should be devoid of emotions, she eventually succumbs to the title character’s kindness and charm, and decides to switch sides.

Rule #5: Aliens! Don't make your spies too cute. It'll just backfire when they decide they enjoy our human fussing, and our fancy Earth ribbons.

Additional reporting by Katharine Duckett.

Director Hitoshi Iwamoto is running the show at MW and has set a release date of 2009. MW is a chemical that was accidentally released by the government and subsequently wiped out most of Japan. The main character, Michio Yuuki, survives and has to deal with all of the aftermath. Unfortunately, he discovers that MW has left him without the ability to care between right and wrong, and he becomes a crazed murderer hell bent on spreading MW across the globe.

[24 Frames Per Second and MW]

Apollo's Song was originally serialized in a weekly comic magazine back in 1970. This was during the transition phase of Tezuka's career—his production company had just tanked, and he was skeptical of the anime industry, which insisted on censoring his work. It was the same year that he wrote Alabaster, a story about a homicidal, partly invisible ex-athlete intent on destroying all the beauty in the world.

For Tezuka, science fiction was never a goal; it was the medium through which he chose to explore complex, often taboo issues of his time, like love and hate and promiscuous sex. By addressing these issues via animated fictional characters living in a surreal future, he avoided controversy and criticism in the real world.

Apollo's Song is a coming-of-age story that starts in the present and warps back and forth into the past and future. The ambiguous protagonist is a boy named Shogo, who learned to despise the idea of love during a childhood mired in his mom's promiscuous affairs with his many papas. He hates it so much that he obsessively murders any living thing showing even the slightest hint of passion. These killing sprees land him in a mental hospital, where a mysterious doctor puts him through electroshock therapy and transports him into different roles, each in extreme imagined environments—an island where dozens of zoo animals procreate, an isolated house in the mountains, and Nazi Germany. Through his adventures, Shogo finally learns to love. Hypnosis takes him to his final destination—Tokyo in the year 2030, where super-humanoid clones called Synthians rule a cold, heartless world. There, Shogo is caught between two tasks he's been ordered to perform—to kill the Synthian queen, but also to teach her how to love.

The inner lives of animals, reproduction, twisted sexuality, reincarnation, and the inevitable war between humans and their creations—clones and robots—are themes that arise repeatedly in Tezuka's manga. Even today, a lot of Japanese people don't talk that openly about love and sex. Manga is often a prime medium for understanding these issues—sex ed is often taught in comic strips, and almost every male magazine has pornographic graphic novels tacked into its end pages.

Nearly 20 years after his death and over half a century past his heyday, only twelve of Tezuka's titles have been published in English. But with the Asian Art Museum's recent exhibit on Tezuka and other titles being worked on by publishers like Vertical and Viz, we should be seeing a greater rollout in the years to come. If you're going to start somewhere with Tezuka's science fiction works, Apollo is the place to go.