The suspect has been cornered
at the circus. After conferring with a clown, a blinding spotlight
hampers all surveillance. Suddenly, trapped in a cage, he is helpless
while an angry mob, identical in appearance, looking exactly like the
man in the cage, struggle to grab him and tear him apart. At the
last minute his entire body is sucked through the bottom of the cage,
through other times, other places, until he emerges in a hallway.
He sees the suspect again, but he’ll never reach him because the hallway
has begun to buckle and elongate. This is the just the opening
sequence of Satoshi Kon’s amazing animated feature Paprika.
When several small devices
(DC Mini’s) allowing doctors to observe and enter the dreams of their
patients are stolen, Dr. Chiba Atsuko and her colleagues are very concerned.
Then, they begin to observe delusional behavior among staff—nonsensical
speeches and suicide attempts. It seems that the thief has learned
how to use the device to implant dreams into the minds of others.
Atsuko’s coworkers are sucked into coma-like states, trapped in a
nightmare they cannot control, unable to wake up. As days go by,
the nightmare infection begins to spread. Relying on her dream alter
ego, Paprika, Dr. Atsuko races to recover the Mini’s before the very
nature of reality is destroyed forever.
Paprika successfully
explores the twisting of nightmares and reality, allowing the inexplicable
visual odysseys that take over while we sleep to assume center stage.
Maybe this would not work in a live action film, but the logic that
rules the world of dreams works well throughout the entire film. It
is a visual feast. The superior animation and vivid color palette make
it impossible to look away.
Kon has mastered the perfect
blend of the adorable and the gruesome. There is a deviant parade
of dolls, frogs, and appliances, but the consequences of letting this
cutesy little march continue are clearly apocalyptic. (The cutest
doll of all, black bob and red kimono, is the one you have to avoid
at all costs.) The settings are absolutely perfect—darkened
movie theaters, an abandoned amusement park, and a solarium leading
straight to hell. The battle to preserve the real world is marked
by a fantastic depiction of Japanese “ero guro,” the erotic grotesque,
that shouldn’t be missed. Visceral, creative and original,
Paprika is an outstanding example of what can be accomplished using
animation.
****
Jennie Milojevic