We're in the midst of an animation renaissance. Much of this cartoon resurgence is thanks to the rise of computer animation, which has brought us such instantly timeless classics as the Toy Story films. Another reason is the awareness in America—finally!—that animation doesn't have to be aimed squarely at the preteen demographic. That awareness can be traced almost directly to The Simpsons, a bastion of sophisticated-disguised-as-lowbrow humor. Sure, a lot of animation in the past has dealt with adult content—Fritz the Cat and Fantasia come to mind, as do some of Warner Brothers' classic shorts—but the acceptance of the medium as a forum for mature ideas and characters has never been as established as it is today.

Genndy Tartakovsky is in the business of making cartoons that appeal to adults as well as kids. Known for his work on Dexter's Laboratory and The Powerpuff Girls, Tartakovsky in 2001 came up with a project that was very close to his heart—the painterly, action-oriented Samurai Jack. Warner Brothers' Cartoon Network loudly and proudly debuted its new show and continues to air new episodes, and I wouldn't be surprised if most of Samurai Jack's audience consisted of post-teens.

This DVD presents the premiere pilot episode, which runs about 65 minutes. In ancient Japan, an all-powerful demon named Aku awakens from imprisoned slumber and usurps the emperor's throne. The emperor's preteen son, revenge in his heart, flees the country to learn various fighting skills and philosophies around the world. In a long, wordless montage sequence, we see the lad grow up while training with Robin Hood, the Shaolin monks, and—of course—samurai. He is Japan's only hope to defeat Aku. When he returns as a man to his home land, he fights Aku tirelessly to the point of the demon's demise—but Aku craftily rockets our hero into the distant Fifth Element–like future, in which jet cars zip this way and that, careening between skyscrapers. And guess what? Aku in this future Earth has been the world's foul overlord for centuries. It's a grin-inducing setup that future episodes will milk for all it's worth. In the end, Samurai Jack—so dubbed by some local hoods—lifts his sword, vowing to defeat Aku in all his forms and to return to his proper time.

A simple description of plot does no justice to the appeal of Samurai Jack. Here's a cartoon that is action-intensive and yet bravely goes for 10-minute passages that have no dialog, just clearly staged sequences that are elegant in their wordless simplicity. The animators have also paid astonishing attention to backgrounds, which appear to be hand-painted watercolors that I would proudly display in my home. But the greatest appeal of Samurai Jack is its juxtaposition of ancient and wise Japanese culture with the cyberpunk stylings of Philip K. Dick or Ridley Scott. It's all framed in a wild comic-book style, shuttered in spastic split-screens, Sergio Leone close-ups, and John Woo slow-motion.

The film's only weakness comes when Samurai Jack takes his first stand against Aku's minions in the future world. A trio of talking dogs hires our man to defend their homes from a swarm of nasty beetle-bots. I found the dogs to be annoying and out of place here—more at home, in fact, in a Ren & Stimpy cartoon or even Dexter's Laboratory. On the plus side, Jack's long and carefully choreographed battle with the robot bugs is heaps of fun. Call it a marriage of Starship Troopers and Seven Samurai.

Warner presents Samurai Jack in its original full-frame 1.33:1 aspect ratio. On large screens—for which this animation series was no doubt never intended—you'll notice fairly distracting aliasing along the film's stark-black line work. Other than that, the transfer is quite acceptable, accurately bringing across the gorgeous painterly look. I noticed only a few minor instances of pixelization. Although I searched for the telltale halos of edge enhancement, I found none.

The DVD offers an exceedingly fine Dolby Digital 5.1 audio track (not listed on the packaging of my copy!) that provides terrific envelopment with musical ambience and sound effects. Arrows zip and machinery clangs all around you. It's an extremely dynamic track. Samurai Jack's music—which can be essential to this often dialog-free presentation—has a richness and punch that will serve your audio system well. There are a few low-end effects that will give your subwoofer a minor workout. Even the 2.0 track provides a surprisingly wide front soundstage.

Primary among the extras is the series' eleventh episode, which aired in October 2001. This 24-minute episode captures another element of Samurai Jack—its often-outrageous humor. Jack finds himself traveling the world's lengthiest rope bridge. Seemingly days into his trek, he encounters a gigantic, ornery Scotsman who's traveling from the opposite direction and just begging for swordplay. When they discover that Aku is after both of them, they're suddenly and reluctantly allies. The hilarious and unrelenting action of this episode might even capture the brilliance of Samurai Jack more than the feature attraction does.

Next up is a behind-the-cels featurette called Behind the Sword, a 10-minute look at the making of the series. I initially wished for a longer documentary, but this piece packs a lot of information into its short running time. All the primary creators are accounted for, including the voice actors. I got a particular kick out of the short interview with Mako, who voices Aku. Much attention is paid to the show's painterly style, for good reason.

The Samurai Jack Archive is a collection of design concepts, storyboards, and backgrounds set to music from the film. It's actually more interesting than it sounds.

Finally, there's a preview of the upcoming Powerpuff Girls feature, which is scheduled to hit theaters this summer.

I highly recommend Samurai Jack to all audiences, and I hope to see more of the series on DVD. I only hope that Warner can buck its despicable trend of releasing theme sets and come up with complete-season Samurai Jack box sets.