Categories
anime literary adaptations science-fiction

“Paprika” and the Chaotic Dream Surfing

Probably one of the most bizarre movies I have ever seen, Paprika, a 2006 anime film directed by Kon Satoshi which was adapted from the novel written by Tsutsui Yasutaka, is definitely not an ordinary animated film intended for child entertainment. Featuring the voice of renowned Japanese voice actor Hayashibara Megumi (as Dr. Chiba/Paprika), Paprika will leave you confounded, amazed, and craving for more. This film is about a team of research psychologists who invented a therapeutic device, called D.C. Mini, that can be utilized to treat patients’ disorders by delving into their dreams and venturing the subconscious to figure out the source of their anxieties. Dr. Chiba Atsuko, the head of the research team, however, has been using this device to treat patients beyond the bounds of their facility through her dream world alter ego, Paprika. Among her patients is Mr. Toshimi Konakawa, the police detective, who has been plagued by mysterious recurring dreams that always end up with a man shot dead and a person running away from the scene. Chaos ensues when three of the prototypes have been stolen; and since these devices haven’t been completed, nor approved by the government, the user has the ability to invade dreams and wreck havoc in people’s lives – among the victims are Dr. Tokita Kōsaku, the inventor of the device, and his assistant, Himuro Kei. It is up to Paprika now to trace the culprit and try to prevent the illusion from completely merging with reality. Intense, exciting, unpredictable twists are definitely a few of the highlights of this movie. Interestingly, this was also an inspiration for the creation of the movie, Inception, which was a recent blockbuster film directed by Christopher Nolan, starring Leonardo Di Caprio (Wikimedia Foundation, Inc, 2010).

The most prominent, thought-provoking part of the movie is definitely the plot which leaves most viewers baffled and seeking for explanation and clarification. One can never really guess what’s coming next, because the unfolding events carry unexpected twists. If you are about to watch this movie, chances are, you would not understand it at first. You would probably need to take a little time to piece scenes up and try to make sense out of the picture, or better yet, re-watch the entire film. The juggling between dreams and reality, the merging of illusions, and the chaotic combination of the real world and the land of dreams, which corresponds more to its negative or nightmarish aspect for the purpose of this movie, contribute to its perplexing nature. One scene that was hard to tell if it was reality or illusion, for me, is the part where Konakawa goes on his computer and visits a website which literally and personally takes him to a bar where he meets Paprika to discuss his psychological condition. Paprika is an entity that only shows up in dreams whenever Dr. Chiba uses the D.C. Mini. It is not clear how his entire body appears to be physically present, talking face-to-face with her, since he is last shown as just sitting in front of a computer. The boundary between reality and illusion is not clearly set since there are no scenes particularly showing the use of the psychotherapeutic machine, D.C. Mini, prior to entering dreams other than when Dr. Tokita applies it to himself to visit his friend and assistant’s dream. Unlike watching “The Matrix” where the division is evident – before setting off to the artificial world, the process of hooking up the characters to machines that allow them to enter is directly shown – this movie has been devoid of most this real world-dream world connection. Viewers are set to assume that the D.C. Mini is being used whenever the scene seems non-sensical and fantastical.

The confusion brought about by the plot draws focus to the animation that is so outlandish yet incredible in nature, it ties up to the theme of the movie – the concept of dreams and its illusory aspects. Dreams are not supposed to make sense sometimes, but depending on what they are about, they can either be enjoyed or feared. Yet no matter the content, dreams can be whimsical and filled with events that we would never expect to happen in real life. This is what this film is all about – exploring the impossible through animation. As an avid anime watcher in my younger years, I’m used to seeing over-the-top, beyond normal or real world animations, but this one has a dark, creepy tone to it, which may cater to non-anime fans. This tone is somehow lightened up with scenes that are lively and full of color, such as the circus and the parade. However, even if it is something that might capture children’s attention, the creepiness exhibited through the appearing and disappearing of the Japanese geisha doll in the hollow body of Dr. Shima, the chief of the research department, during the dream parade, as well as the capacity of Dr. Osanai, another researcher who has deep admiration for Dr. Chiba, to let his hand enter Paprika’s body, ripping it apart to reveal her real naked (yes, there is nudity) identity when he has the opportunity to capture her, will definitely send shivers down the spine. Viewers may find the series of events baffling, but they will never miss the excellent animation and the intensity of the details in every sequence. The distortion of reality and the fusion of illusion and truth are beautifully illustrated. According to Rob Nelson of The Village Voice, Paprika “isn’t a movie that’s meant to be understood so much as simply experienced – or maybe dreamed” (Wikimedia Foundation, Inc, 2010).

If you are into creepy, well-created, mature, and mind-boggling anime movies, then this is the perfect movie for you. This will definitely keep your brain and your eyes entertained for the entire duration of the film. Pair up the confusing plot with lots of eye-catching visuals and you’ll be gaping for the whole hour and a half. For a more fulfilling experience, make sure to film your reaction all throughout the movie – it might be as entertaining as the movie itself.

Source:

Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. “Paprika (2006 film)”. Wikipedia: The Free Dictionary. November 6, 2010. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paprika_%282006_film%29 Retrieved November 1, 2010.

Categories
anime science-fiction

Oshii Mamoru’s “Ghost in the Shell”

Otherwise known in its native Japanese as Kōkaku Kidotai, Ghost in the Shell is a critically acclaimed, stylistically significant, and intellectually profound animated masterpiece that goes above and beyond the typical thematic and stylistic constraints traditionally placed on animated formats.  Directed by the esteemed Oshii Mamoru and based on Shirow Masamune’s comic-book conceptions, this film was released in November, 1995.  This film is applauded by critics as one of the first animated works to reach a high level of literary and visual excellence.  Firmly entrenched in a dark cyberpunk science fiction genre populated by other outstanding works such as Blade Runner, The Matrix, and Neuromancer, Ghost in the Shell – like its progenitors and associates – enlists the assistance of a deep philosophical reexamination of deeply held perceptions of reality and existence.  What is it that makes oneself real?  How far can one stretch the definition of life-forms with regards towards a society fast embracing the existence of increasingly intelligent artificial intelligences?  Ghost in the Shell embraces these questions and never provides any real answers; the answers, this film holds, are deeply convoluted and complex – problems that become exponentially more complex the more technologically invested a given society becomes.  Indeed, this film pulls itself into the ranks of previously mentioned greats such as the aforementioned Blade Runner due to a focus not just on the exultation of a certain dystopian future, but rather, the implications of such a future: a future more likely with each passing day and technological development.

Ghost in the Shell presents itself as a science-fiction exposition from the onset through an opening sequence that lays down the groundwork for the legal (or rather, extralegal) status and authority of “Section 9”, a 2029 AD amalgamation of Special Forces and cybercrime professionals.  The movie opens through a cold-open sequence, elapsing four minutes, displaying the technological advancements a future society might possess, e.g. cyberbrain augmentations, thermo-optic camouflage, the cyborgization of the human body (in extreme cases, full-body cyborgization), and augmented reality systems.  In addition, this sequence fully demonstrates the extralegal capacity that “Section 9” possesses, and indeed, executes with the utmost precision and efficiency.  What follows is a sequence illustrating the formative and industrial capacity of this future world, creating something as complex as Kusanagi Motoko’s (the female Section 9 agent) cyborg body with apparent ease.

What follows is a plot centered on the political intrigue of governmental agencies and industrial espionage, and the unforeseen implications of technology that practitioners do not truly understand.  Tied initially to a case in which a “Puppet Master” is found to be “ghost-hacking” civilians and governmental officials to carry out terrorist acts, Section 9 finds themselves being drawn increasingly into a conflict where they deal with both this insurgent and a rogue “Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA),” who on parallel missions are trying desperately to contain this malevolent force.  This set of events leads to the suspected presence, or as Section 9 later finds out, the manifestation of a “ghost,” i.e. a term equivalent to that of a human soul in common vernacular.  As the film elaborates, this “ghost” is no mere artificial intelligence, but rather, the birthing of a self-aware entity born not out of intended invention, but rather spontaneous development.  The film climaxes with Section 6 orchestrating the abduction of the newly acquired “Puppet Master,” henceforth known as “Project 2501,” as he calls himself: a product of the “sea of information” existing in the vast interconnected networks of the future; a spontaneous creation akin to that of the prehistoric Cambrian explosion.  Compelled to preserve his existence and such qualitatively human compellations such as the desire to reproduce, he orchestrated the terrorist events that set in motion the timeline of this film.  Ghost in the Shell culminates in the destruction of “Project 2501” and Motoko’s cyborg body by MFA forces; the concluding scene has Motoko (in a replacement body) looking out over a brightly lit cityscape.

This film deals with a number of complex thematic concepts.  In a world where cyborgization is not only commonplace, but as omnipresent as the cell phones of today, what are the implications of this constant attachment to a collective network?  With the direct implantation and accessibility of such a sea of information, firewalls and layers of protection against intrusion thus become mandatory and indeed, essential towards the preservation of one’s “ghost”.  Otherwise, as shown through the poor garbage-man and incapacitated government official, one becomes vulnerable to malicious attack and “ghost-hacks”: future versions of Trojan viruses and remote-hijacking of the computer systems of today.  In addition, as shown by the garbage-man, being hacked and implanted with false memories challenges the boundaries of reality.  How does one react to an amalgamation of irreversible brainwashing and direct memory manipulation?  If such an event is possible, how would a citizen in the Ghost in the Shell universe know if reality is truth or fiction?  In addition, Ghost in the Shell impels the audience to ask themselves what it is that makes us human.  If Project 2501 was able to declare itself a sentient life-form capable of political asylum, would this ghost-endowed synthetic being be considered more human than someone like Motoko (whose synthetic bodily parts far outnumber the few remaining organic components of her body)?  It is interesting to note that when Section 6 first discovers sentience in Project 2501’s programming, it is regarded as a mere bug, which in retrospect, is a colossal display of both human arrogance and narrow-mindedness.  It is through the investigation of these concepts against a cyberpunk backdrop that Oshii Mamoru and Masamune Shirow take the concepts of artificial intelligence to a new high – beyond the tremblings of sentience present in 2001: A Space Odyssey – in a contextual format that current audiences can understand and appreciate.

Ghost in the Shell, however, is not a film for the uninitiated.  The overly complex dialogue and casual usage of futuristic terms places potential viewers (without prior knowledge of Shirow Masamune’s works) at a definite disadvantage towards the proper comprehension of his stylistic and technological constructs.  However, for those willing to invest the effort into understanding the intricacies of a dystopian (and yet, realistic) cyberpunk world, Ghost in the Shell offers itself as a thematically deep film wrought throughout with philosophical issues on reality and its cohorts, existence and the soul.

Categories
anime drama, melodrama science-fiction

Philosophy, Memory and Technology: A review of Oshii Mamoru‘s “Ghost in the Shell”

Ghost in the Shell (Kôkaku Kidôtai), an anime film directed by Oshii Mamoru and released in Japan in 1995, is an exploration of technology, information and the human soul. Based on a manga written by Masamune Shirow, the film envisions a future where technology and biology are blended seamlessly, and consciousness is spread out in a vast network of information. Within this world lives Major Mokoto Kusanagi,  a cyber-cop who is given the task of stopping criminals from hacking into the “ghosts” of government officials. The Japanese version of the film features the voices of Tanuko Atsuko as the Major and Ôtsuka Akio as her second-in-command Batô; it was also released dubbed in English, featuring the voices of Mimi Woods and Richard Epcar. Ghost in the Shell was intended to be viewed by a large international audience with a broad, theatrical release (Ebert 1996), but its complexity, sexuality, and exploration of difficult philosophical issues make it a cult film rather than a mainstream blockbuster.

Ghost in the Shell depicts a dystopic future where the integration of biology and technology has eliminated the security of thought. Criminals are able to “hack” the human mind, and implant false memories, thereby controlling the victim’s motivation and will. The Major and Batô are in pursuit of a mastermind hacker called the Puppet Master, who is threatening diplomatic relations with other sectors as well as stealing information by hacking into the minds of government officials. As the Major hunts the Puppet Master, she begins to question her own nature: she is a cyborg officer, mainly composed of mechanical parts with only a few organic cells to identify her as human. In a world where memories are subject to exchange and corruption like so many data files, what is the difference between human and machine? As they uncover the mystery of the Puppet Master, they discover that he was never human: rather, he is a lifeform born within the sea of information. He’s come to find the Major, and what he wants from her will blur the lines between memory and technology beyond what she’s ever imagined.

For a film with such a dynamic plot, there is a conspicuous lack of movement. Static shots of the cityscape last for several moments: the “camera” remains stationary and often the only motion within the shot is the rain softly falling. Characters, too, are frequently motionless: their bodies and heads remain stationary as they deliver their lines, often in extended monologues lasting for several minutes. The stillness adds a certain weight to the subject matter, and time for the viewer to consider what’s being said onscreen. This time is essential for comprehending the film: every line delivers a philosophical punch, and Ghost in the Shell provides much food for thought.

The animation of Ghost in the Shell is spectacular, and the sprawling cityscape represents the decline of life through the rise of technology. The monolithic grey towers that form the skyline of Section 9, where the film takes place, symbolize the domination of technology. There is no evidence of greenery, and the only reminder of life is the occasional emaciated dog roaming the shadowy streets. People, cowering under umbrellas, are dwarfed by the landscape that surrounds them. The stillness of the film emphasizes this dominance of technology: the city seems ghostly, empty of life. The soundtrack gives weight to this feeling, and its wailing and mournful sounds seem to echo through the empty, rain-drenched streets. The final shot in the film reinforces the connection between landscape and technology: a bird’s-eye view of the city reveals its shape to be reminiscent of the circuitboards of a computer.

Ghost in the Shell is a complex and fascinating film, one that I thoroughly recommend watching. The animation is astounding, and it’s worth watching the film for the visuals alone; however, it’s the philosophical questions and the provocative ways in which the film answers that are the most interesting aspects of the film. The philosophy is heavy-handed at times: the film makes no effort to hide its deeper questions in theme and symbolism, choosing instead to have the characters explore them in depth through dialogue. I watched both the English and the Japanese version of the film, and I recommend the latter: although the English version makes it easier to fully appreciate the visuals if you don’t speak Japanese, the voices and dialogue in the Japanese version are far superior, and the expression of philosophical concepts is far more natural. Ghost in the Shell is decidedly an adult film, containing an extensive amount of nudity and violence (it is a film about a dystopic future, after all), but the adult content is not gratuitous. The film explores the concept of body and how it relates to both technology and the soul, and thus the attention paid to the Major’s nearly constantly naked form is symbolically significant as well as visually appealing. If you haven’t seen Ghost in the Shell, watch it: it’ll give you something to think about long after the credits stop rolling.

Works Cited

Ebert, Roger. “Ghost in the Shell.” Chicago Sun-Times. 12 April 1996. Web. 1 Nov 2010.

Categories
anime science-fiction

“Paprika”’s Distorted World of Reality and Fear

Directed by the late Kon Satoshi, Paprika (2006) is an animated science fiction film adaptation ofYasutaka Tsutsui’s 1993 novel. The film is highly renowned for its stunning artwork and animation. Moreover, Paprika often leaves the audience stunned by its incredibly complex yet remarkable storyline. While the film takes the viewer through a whirlwind of dreams and nightmares, Satoshi highlights the characters’ fear of technology taking over Japanese society. This becomes a serious theme throughout the film as Doctor Atsuko Chiba (voiced by Hayashibara Megumi) continues to dive deeper into people’s nightmares and discover the ultimate truth dream by dream. Another aspect to consider is Satoshi’s use of visuals to create hyperrealities of the characters’ dreams and their real world. At one point, dreams and reality merge, in which it becomes difficult to determine whether Chiba is in someone’s dream or not. Therefore, the visuals juxtapose dreams and reality to effectively illustrate, in detail, their similarities. As such, the theme and visuals tie the film together as a whole, while at the same time, they leave open-ended and debatable scenarios which then ultimately beg the question, “is this all just a dream?”

Paprika is set in the future where a device called ‘DC Mini’ is invented for dream therapy. This new psychotherapy treatment utilizes the DC Mini to view people’s dreams, allowing its users to explore unconscious thoughts of their patients and dreamers. Chiba leads this treatment and uses this device illegally to help psychiatric patients, which is not permitted in the research facilities. To conceal her identity, Chiba uses her alter ego, Paprika, to delve into and examine the patients’ dream world. Hence, the film opens with Paprika (a.k.a Chiba) counselling Detective Konakawa Toshimi, who is vexed by a recurring dream. The incompleteness of his dreams deeply troubles him and deters him from following his passion for film. Chiba’s method of counseling is heavily disapproved by the Chairman (Emori Tōru) despite Doctor Kosaku Tokita’s (Furuya Tōru) optimistic intentions, the child-at-heart genius and creator of the DC Mini. Before the government can pass an authorization of the use of the DC Mini, three of its models are stolen. Because those prototypes are not complete, they allow anyone to enter another person’s dreams and create an opportunity for the user to perform malicious deeds without getting caught. Chiba/Paprika and Doctor Torataro Shima (Hori Katsunosuke) take this matter into their own hands after two doctors (Tokita and Himuro, who is, at first, suspected as the thief) become victims of the DC Mini. It is up to Paprika to find the roots of the perpetrator responsible for controlling the dreams and why he merges dreams and reality together. Thus, the viewers follow both Chiba and Paprika into a whirlwind of unconscious thoughts and self-reflexive fears, whether they are in dreams or reality or in both. Eventually, Chiba and Konakawa confront and realize their true emotions in order to save their city from mass destruction.

An important subject matter to explore in Paprika is the sense of fear and frustration on the rapid technological advancements in Japanese society. “Implanting dreams into other people’s heads is terrorism,” exclaims Chairman Emori at the beginning of the film. He clearly expresses his disapproval of the DC Mini and aims to be the “predator of the dreamworld” by protecting dreams from being polluted by technology. Ironically, he contradicts himself and ends up using the DC Mini to maliciously control people’s dreams, as exemplified by his monstrous figure and sinister vision of omnipotence. At one point in the film, the Chairman transforms himself into an incredibly large and dark monster-like creature. He also begins to destroy and darken the city with his delusional dreams. This scene in particular is reminiscent of Gojira’s attack of the city in Ishirō Honda’s Gojira (1954). Similarly to Gojira, the city is darkened by smokes with a monster of terror hovering over and destroying buildings. The Chairman’s monstrous transformation is solely from his obsessive and aggressive nature over maintaining purity in people’s dreams, as is Gojira’s transformation from the testings of nuclear weapons. Because of his twisted motives, the Chairman slowly eliminates people’s identities and their mental capacities, and soon enough, their lives. Clearly, the DC Mini is controlled by the wrong hands of a malevolent user. Ultimately, the Chairman epitomizes the inhumane horrors of technology by allowing it to be the source of evil.

Perhaps what truly throws both the characters and viewers off is the incredible visuals making it difficult to determine which state (dream or reality) they’re in. Unlike some films, Satoshi does not add special effects or any indications whenever Chiba has entered someone’s dream or not. Rather, he closely juxtaposes dreams and reality to challenge various characters to search for their own personal truths, be it their hidden emotions or self-realization. This makes it hard to understand when to know whether or not one is in a dream or in the real world. Consequently, Konakawa and Chiba travel through a series of dreams to discover what they are hiding or running away from in reality. Konakawa continues to revisit his movie-like dreams to make sense of the final scene, where he finds himself chasing after someone and could not shoot the escaping stranger. His hesitance prevents him from understanding why his personal anxiety affects his hatred for movies. When he realizes he needs to overcome his guilt for breaking a promise to a close friend, he finally finishes his dream by shooting Doctor Morio Osenai (Koichi Yamadera), the Chairman’s minion, indicating that he has taken control of his dream[1]. As a result, Konakawa’s confrontation to himself and discovery of his friend’s true intentions prevent his dreams from recurring again. Chiba, on the other hand, uses her alter ego to suppress her romantic emotions towards Tokita. As she continues to jump from one dream to another dream to her real world, her frantic search for Tokita allows her to realize that she has feelings for him – as herself, not Paprika. Because dreams and reality have merged, Paprika becomes a separate entity from Chiba, who then, later on, reconciles herself through Paprika after discovering her feelings for Tokita. This is illustrated when Chiba watches her own subconscious thoughts replaying an earlier scene in the film when she helps Tokita out of the elevator. In the ghostly apparition, she recognizes his cues, changes her reactions and response, and holds him tenderly. For both Konokawa and Chiba’s cases, it is when reality and dreams merge that they recognize the underlying truth in order for them to stay true to themselves. Thus, the film’s visuals and its challenging structure act as a self-reflexive tool to explore and understand the similarities between dreams and reality, but also one’s consciousness and subconsciousness.

Paprika is known for its stunning animation and ability to challenge the audience’s expectations. It is often compared to Christopher Nolan’s most recent film, Inception (2010) because of their similar ideas. However, Paprika is a very different film when it comes to questioning the idea of dreams and the characters’ reality. Paprika’s intellectual curiosity leaves the audience at the edge of their seat, craving for more explanations and a longer storyline. One must be aware of nudity and its extreme graphic details during the film. Watch Paprika and be prepared for a twisted roller coaster ride through a series of beautiful and unusual dreams.


[1] Doctor Morio Osenai also dies in reality to indicate that dreams and reality have completed merged.

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