This month, viewers will get to revisit—and some, with luck, discover—Watanabe’s brutal, innovative landscape when a remastered edition of Cowboy Bebop gets a much-awaited Blu-ray release. Since its first airing, the show has had an impressive trajectory, particularly for one with such humble beginnings. When it premiered in Japan in 1998, Bebop was just another unassuming anime, one that was cancelled midway through its first run. It wouldn't catch on until months later, when the first and only season was finally shown in full on Japan’s WOWOW network. The response from critics and fans may have sounded hyperbolic—the word “masterpiece” was thrown around a great deal—but the praise was justified. First-time solo director Watanabe had created a gorgeous tale of morality, romance, and violence–a dark look at the lives of outlaws that’s shot like an independent film. It was unlike anything the genre had seen before. It even approached its music differently. The show kicked off with a wormhole of a theme song, and the soundtrack moves so seamlessly through genres, from rock to country to pop to jazz to funk, it’s shocking to learn that one set of musicians is behind it all.

Like a lot of Americans, I only became aware of the series until 2001, when it began airing on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim. I initially (and ignorantly) brushed it aside like I had previous anime programs, thinking it all to be kids stuff a la Dragon Ball Z and Pokémon. Bebop changed my perception of the genre, as it would for other American anime newbs. The show tailored itself toward a more mature viewership, taking despair and violence head on, with a dramatic touch rarely seen in animation or even live-action TV. The show was even forward-thinking enough to include a gay couple mid-coitus, something American animated shows wouldn’t dare attempt. As Cartoon Network producer Sean Akins explains in a special features interview on the remastered edition of Bebop, Watanabe’s show “created a whole new world.” “It’s hard for me to quantify the impact that I think it has had,” he said. “It changed anime. I think people began to think about what shows would be cool. I think it redefined cool within animation, not only in Japan but in the States.”

Cool may be subjective, but it is the most apt word to describe Bebop’s lead character, Spike Spiegel. He is dashing, funny, quiet, a habitual smoker, a world-class fighter—a mix of Bruce Lee, Clint Eastwood’s “Stranger,” and an L.A. noir detective all rolled into one; a space-age samurai-cum-Marlboro Man. Cowboy Bebop is built around Spike’s backstory, which is told through flashbacks and encounters with figures from his past. In short, Spike left a noted crime syndicate under … difficult circumstances, and has been looking to settle the score ever since. Watanabe doesn’t skimp on rich backstories for Spike’s supporting characters either, including a brawny though surprisingly friendly ex-cop with a prosthetic arm; a scantily clad, amnesiac con artist; and a preteen hacker with rosy cheeks and orange hair. There’s also a dog and a beat-up Millennium Falcon-esque spaceship.