Sunday, December 14, 2008

This Is Your Brain On Anime: Paprika

There is a story of the Chinese sage Zhuangzi that goes:

"Once Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting and fluttering around, happy with himself and doing as he pleased. He didn't know he was Zhuangzi. Suddenly he woke up and there he was, solid and unmistakable Zhuangzi. But he didn't know if he was Zhuangzi who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuangzi. Between Zhuangzi and a butterfly there must be some distinction! This is called the Transformation of Things."

Though on its face this may seem an almost childish idea to most, if you have ever experienced a lucid dream, or if you really pay any attention at all to your inner life, you may come to realize that there is truth to it. What is more, there is a real terror that can accompany realizing that the ground we stand on, at least figuratively speaking, is not solid. All experience is simply experience, whether it involves balancing your checkbook or talking to the monk levitating above a colossal, marching procession of cymbal-crashing frog men.

Many movies have dealt with this idea. (The Science of Sleep and Vanilla Sky are the first two that come to mind that do it any justice, but there are many more.) However, few have done it with such a brilliant flare for the surreal as Satoshi Kon's Paprika. Like his previous film, Perfect Blue (review here), the animation is top notch, and the script solid, though even the best animes tend to be a little stilted in translation. He also utilizes many of the same techniques in both movies, including breaking that fourth wall nearly every scene. In the case of Paprika, these techniques are being applied for a different purpose, and I would say they are done somewhat more gracefully.

However, the genius of Paprika lies in the sheer inspired weirdness that exists in the realms of consciousness between waking and deep, dreamless coma. There is a certain logic to dreams, which tends to only make sense within the context of the dream itself- while dreaming it makes perfect sense that you are talking to a fox, while underwater, that is somehow both your mother and your dead future self at the same time. Whenever we wake up and try to recount our dreams to friends, they oftentimes sound foolish for this reason. It really is true that you "had to be there." Paprika succeeds at dealing with these realms, bringing us there without it feeling too forced. (Unlike your stereotypical dream sequences where the director is like "it needs to be weird. Get a smoke machine and find us a midget!")

Though I will admit I have not (yet) read it, I would imagine much of this influence comes from Yasutaka Tsutsui's novel that the movie was based on. On the strangeness scale, between Full House and Naked Lunch, this movie is definitely a trip to Interzone.

So if "off the beaten path" is your thing, and you haven't taken the trip yet, I suggest you strap yourself in for quite a ride. Just don't be surprised if you have some really strange dreams afterwards.


--James Curcio.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Excuse Me... Who Are You?

In a world where we are expected to play a variety of conflicting roles, in which our lives are all interconnected, broadcast and dissected, we invariably develop situational identities. We are not one person, we are many people who go by the same name.

Though all of us deal with this in varying ways as we go through life, nowhere is it more of an issue than in pop culture. The long list of psychologically and emotionally fractured ex-teen stars is ample proof. "Who are you?" Mima, the central character in Perfect Blue, asks of herself. It is her first line in our 'play within a play.' It is a question that really seeks no answer, instead expressing the complete lack of a frame of reference.

Just a decade after its release some of the devices of this film may now seem old - websites pretending to portray the 'real life' of pop idols, obsessive paparazzi, frothing J-pop fans - however, many of the questions explored by Perfect Blue remain as vital as ever. In fact, it is possible they have become even more so as the line between reality and fiction continues to blur.


Britney Spears vs. Perfect Blue -- Mashup

In many ways this movie seems downright prophetic. To the Myspace Generation, everything is either performance, or irrelevant. If you can't photograph, blog, videotape or otherwise record something, it may as well not have happened. I'm sure you've heard this before: A.D.D. running rampant in our children, cultish obsession with actresses that only recently got their periods, on and on. I'm not about to contribute to all of that alarmist noise.

However, it is rare that we take a step back and think about how all of these things are symptoms of underlying identity crisis, a crisis that actually transcends most of our other sexual, cultural or racial boundaries. The teen idol, acting out the pre-scripted, cut-out role, and their screaming fans are united in their lack of intrinsic identity. The former plays to the expectant dreams of the latter, yet neither of them actually are that illusion. When it shatters, there is nothing there. Playing to the expectation of a lover is ultimately no different than playing to the hopes of the audience. It is all acted in the mirror.

Is she Mima the pop star? Mima the actress? Mima the shy girl who loves her tetra fish? Unless if pantomiming is all it takes, the answer is "no." She is none of the above.

Sure, there are several things about Perfect Blue that don't quite hit the mark. The film-makers probably could have made their point without busting the 4th wall every couple minutes once the film gets rolling. It also may have gone further if Mima's actress-persona developed an actual personality of its own.

However, despite its occasional stylistic heavy-handedness, this movie is positively brilliant for it's ability to deal with the 'heavy' themes of identity and cultural expectation without being a 'heavy' movie. (It doesn't hurt that the animation has the ambiance and grace of older classic anime's such as Akira.)

"Who are you?" Mima asks herself, never really finding an answer. Everyone in the film is united in their desire to be this perfect idol. This is the reality Perfect Blue gives us a glimpse of, although you see it anytime you turn on the television. Japanese or American, all of our cultures seem to meet at this crossroad: we are a planet of voyeurs.

This was a syndicated review first run on Alterati. Next up, I'll be running an original review of another film by Satoshi Kan, Paprika.

--James Curcio.