Perfect Blue: Life is Anything But Glamorous || Review

A brief spoiler-free review of the 80-minute 1997 anime film “Perfect Blue,” animated by Madhouse, directed by Satoshi Kon, script by Sadayuki Murai, and loosely based on the novel “Perfect Blue: Complete Metamorphosis” by Yoshikazu Takeuchi. 

mima fish.PNG


Fantasy & Reality

Rising star Mima Kirigoe has just announced her retirement from her Japanese idol group to pursue an acting career. While she tries to convince herself that this is what she wants to be doing with her life, others couldn’t be in greater opposition. Namely, her fans, and one deranged creep in particular who begins to stalking her. As the people responsible for her career change are gruesomely murdered one by one, Mima herself starts to teeter on the edge of sanity.

From the genius mind of Satoshi Kon comes the bizarre story of a singer-turned-actor desperately trying to escape from the delusional head space that is causing the lines between fantasy and reality to blur. The film is swamped in Kon’s signature quick-cut directing style, with creative transitions, wacky visual perspectives, and bright colors guiding the eye through this terrifying narrative.

idol mimi.PNG

Kon’s attentiveness to defining the boundaries of fantasy and reality is exemplified in Perfect Blue. Sometimes we are shown Mima acting in a scene, while other times the stage is very much mirroring reality. Figures from Mima’s imagination haunt both her visions of reality and the viewer’s perception of it. You often find yourself asking, is this a dream? Or, perhaps, the nightmare that Mima’s reality has become?

Set at the dawn of the Internet Age, this psychedelic trip puts the viewer on a wild roller-coaster ride through the darker tunnels of human emotion. Paranoia, loneliness, and fear are thoroughly explored in this masterful film that demonstrates what the psychological thriller genre of entertainment can do when a gripping story is met with heart-pumping suspense and a clever directing style that shows you exactly what it wants, when it wants.

mima in red.PNG

Living in Duality

Perfect Blue begins at the end. That is to say, the end of Mima’s career as a pop idol, and the beginning of her acting career. Despite being a beloved icon on stage, her back stage life is actually a realistic mess. Her apartment is cluttered, and she’s so in-and-out all the time that the cheese she buys at the beginning of the film expires a few scenes later. Mima is, to be frank, just another teenage girl trying to make a living in modern day Japan.

As such, it’s no surprise that Mima’s idol career was suffocating her. Much like a high school memory, sure, she had fun. But maybe it’s time to move on now. She is characterized by a sense of modesty and passion for her work, although she’s perfectly fine with moving on to a new phase of her life. That is, until the industry starts to exploit her talents.

mima exploited.PNG

Without going into spoilers, I merely can offer this small sentiment: We really don’t have any idea of how the industry works, unless we are actively a part of it. In the world of money and fame, it’s not about you want to do, but rather about what other people want you to do. Sure, a girl can give her verbal consent, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she would be comfortable with being used for someone else’s gain. As an actor, you serve the director, and sometimes that can conflict with your own moral values as a person.

As the story goes along, Mima becomes a victim of forced maturation. This includes being thrust into horrific rape scene that, despite knowing it is fake, scars her poor young mind. She is also met with increased anxiety, depression, PTSD, and even a separation of self by means of superstition. This delusional mindset causes negative thoughts to rise, as in so long as someone is Mima, who really cares if Mima is Mima. How the mind repairs itself and subconsciously shields you for self-protection is absolutely incredible, and that underlying theme is what ties every red thread in Perfect Blue together in one complex, disorienting knot.

mima in bed.PNG

Sensation, Perception, & Direction

Madhouse boosts Perfect Blue‘s production value with an unbelievable amount sensory detail work that I can’t even begin to comprehend. Flashing stage lights, rattling AC units, the motor noises of a 90s desktop computer, the gentle hum of a fish tank—it’s almost sensation in excess, which is just what this film needs. Transporting us to modern day Japan, the attention to detail enhances the setting, and makes the story feel all the more real.

Another gift of watching this film is getting to understand the iconography that makes it so famous beyond being just a really good movie. The bath scene where Mima curls up and screams, bubbles rising from the air of her trapped emotions is particularly beautiful. Seeing Mima hold a knife in midair against a flashing digital backdrop of own image embodies the epitome of suspense. And although creepy in context when paired with the scary music, the scene where Mima chases her dancing, skipping pop idol self through a hospital building conjures up true feelings of horror and hysteria.

mima in bath

Speaking of music, Masahiro Ikumi’s music score for the film adds an eeriness that today’s horror anime just can’t compete with. When we’re not jamming out to light idol music from the 90’s (or listening to it in the elevator . . .), pounding sound board effects, uneasy remixing, and metallic screeching accompany a wailing chorus of uncanny cries. It sounds unpleasant, and it is. But, without Ikumi’s OST, I doubt Mima’s experiences would’ve felt as intense and life-threatening as they were.

mima raised knife.PNG

It’s A Maddening, Cruel World

Perfect Blue takes an introspective look at how fantasy can shape reality, and vice versa. In subtle ways, it asks the question that, as creators of some kind of content, what do we owe our consumers? Are we ever miscommunicating with our readers and viewers, and how would we know? Also, if our successes define us to some extend, how long will they cast shadows into our future?

The world is cruel, scary, and unfair. If it can take something from you, it will. And it won’t give anything back. But Perfect Blue also tells us that if any of these thoughts we are having bother us, then it’s all reality because these thoughts still shape how we feel in real life. Even the most seemingly sane people in our lives . . . We have no idea what they may be going through. Life is a performance, a stage, and if we don’t tell people about what’s going on, they might not ever know. 

In that way, Mima’s story is one about winning yourself back. What does it take to feel confident in my words and thoughts, and how can I get to that place—that’s what I got from Perfect Blue.

mima on the train.PNG

A harrowing journey through a young woman’s psyche as she tries to escape from the fever dream that her reality is becoming, Perfect Blue effectively uses deception in anime to play with his viewer’s mind. The perception of reality cannot be trusted, especially as the psychodrama heightens towards the climax. But WOW is it a compelling mystery. You actively want Mima to figure out what’s wrong with her life—you want her to solve the case. And with a sucker punch ending that’ll hit ya right in gut, the whole experience comes to a satisfying conclusion.

Believe it or not, for a story that began with existential worry and cleverly crafted chaos, the ending of Perfect Blue provides an outlook that favors hope, confidence, and independence. And seeing the light of those perfect blue skies completes this wild yet captivating journey through the complexities of the human psyche.

perfect blue art.PNG


The truth is that today more than ever, I wanted to have a good time with you. — Mima Kirigoe


Afterword

While I would recommend this film to every fan of anime out there, it IS full of gratuitous sex and violence. So, if either of those are triggering to you, definitely steer clear for a bit. More than just thrilling, suspenseful, and entertaining, Perfect Blue ponders so many ideas, from how the internet will forever change privacy, to the savagery in the entertainment world. A compelling mystery by master storyteller Kon himself, “Cafe Mocha” certified Perfect Blue can truly make you feel genuinely scared for your life (especially if you watch this at midnight by yourself like I did, eep).

I’d love to hear what you think of this classic film down in the comments! Special thanks go to GKIDS for rescuing this long out-of-print title and giving it a lovely Blu-ray remaster—they really are the best! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go binge Love Live! . . . you know, to maintain my own sanity. ‘Till next time!

– Takuto, your host

Mayoiga: A Village Lost, But How Far Off the Trail? | Review

A brief spoiler-free review of the 12-episode spring 2016 anime “Mayoiga” or its English title “The Lost Village,” produced by Diomedea, directed by Tsutomu Mizushima and written by Mari Okada.


While I didn’t watch every airing show this past spring season, I do know that many stirred lengthy discussions and debates. In the case of The Lost Village, you’re going to see my thoughts regarding a show which received so much negative feedback that some people even began to reinterpret its intention entirely just to decipher if it was actually clever or plain crap.

A New Life Awaits

Simply put, I’m sure more people than you’d expect would easily raise their hands at the chance of getting to restart life in a Utopian village. And that’s exactly how Mayoiga begins: 30-some-odd children and adults chosen by an internet survey are gathered on a bus ride to paradise. This village lost in the mountains is so hard to find that even the police can’t seem to mark it on a map. Only a handful in our eccentric troop dwell on the sketchy project until they reach their destination — Nanaki Village. After all, the party is more concerned about how they’ll want to live once they exit the bus.

Mysteries start piling up one by one. The village seems to be abandoned, yet everything is orderly and the houses seem fairly clean. They also discover a recently-gardened patch on one end and bloody claw marks scratched into trees on the other. The forest in particular seems like it’s shrouding something. As if more tension was needed, some members of the party vanish without a trace, and like clockwork, it becomes only a matter of time before superstition and doubt plague the group like wildfire. Now begins their true test of survival, for monsters eagerly lurk within the minds of the doubtful run rampant whenever escape is attempted. Is it a curse? An illusion? Or are these seemingly otherworldly phantoms just messin’ with our heads?

Something is Missing . . .

Does Mayoiga provide thought-provoking ideas? I’m still not entirely sure myself. On one hand there’s a certain level of personal acceptance that doesn’t go quite as far as I was hoping it would. Instead of confronting their past, they flee desperately, clinging to ignorance as bait. While its execution is unique, it isn’t all quite there. Perhaps you can lend it to the enormously underdeveloped cast, or maybe it’s the poor balance between character skepticism, village mystery, and heavy-handed theme. I suppose that’s why you end up feeling slight satisfaction for only half of the cast. The lack of character motivations (why they wanted to restart) for the remaining ensemble also didn’t give me enough reason to give two shits if someone went missing or died.

On the other hand, it’s also tackling superstition in that ugly Salem Witch Trial style. What prevents this ‘climax’ from being truly powerful is the fact that these guys are dumb. Plain stupid. Why can’t we talk each other — question each other, even — instead of raising a weapon? Unlike Salem, religion isn’t the issue here. Neither are societal bounds (cause they’re in the middle of nowhere). They’re all just FRIGGIN’ INSANE, dumping their doubt on one little shady girl in hopes that, like their pasts, the terror be offed.

A Bus Full o’Freaks

I also can’t talk much about the characters due to spoilers. When I say that, I just mean the main trio: Mitsumune, Hayato, and Masaki. Mitsumune is an awkward soul, having only been friends with Hayato and not getting much contact with the female species. He really doesn’t know anything, but we can’t blame the unknowing, now can we? Hayato is a smart guy you’ll only find hanging around Mitsumune for his own reasons. Masaki, the group’s verbal punching bag, is a young girl rooted in a suspicious past. She also claims to not know anything, yet she is somehow tied to the village . . . I really don’t mind these three, but most of the others — especially that batshit insane execution girl — are simple-minded and annoying.

Going into it, my favorite was Koharun, the shady tour guide, as she really felt suspicious and I love feeling that way. By the end, though, that position was taken by the flirtatious [I swear she was a prostitute] woman with the high heels because EVERY SINGLE THING she said was sexually implied, and that’s just awesome. Her and the pudgy detective girl. She was pretty cool, too.

Facing Our Fears. Literally.

Now, the sheer illusionary work behind the animation team really makes up for the supernatural ‘talk’ the characters boast about. Raw CG was used like crazy in most of the nightmares that stalked the cast, and while that alone looks terrible, the fake appearance enhances the oddity and spookiness of it all. For once, asking the 3DCG “What the hell are you even supposed to be?” is a complement. Let it all rattle your brain. Outside that, characters look pretty nice — almost something out of P.A. Works — but the dialogue scenes are really boring.

Masaru Yokoyama’s soundtrack is by far the winning aspect of this series! Apparently he also composed the OSTs for Your Lie in April, Rampo Kitan: Game of Laplace, and Lord Marksman and Vanadis among others, so make of that what you will. His chosen style here is obviously mystery and suspense, as the main theme and its many renditions is especially haunting, the kind of “LET’S GET OUT OF HERE” music you need with a show like this. Sadly couldn’t’ find any tracks on the web but the damned Hippopotamus song (my heart goes out to thee as best song). Just know that the OST effective in establishing mood if the creepy village didn’t do that for you.

The opening “Gensou Drive” by Ami Wajima was also fairly good, though I much preferred the ending theme “Ketsuro” by Rina Katahira. It’s much slower, more wound down, and unfitting for the show’s overall tone, but I couldn’t help but look it up afterwards to add it to my playlist. Its position is similar to Parasyte -the maxim-’s ending: slow yet oddly yearning for hope. Visuals were boring as heck, but a nice song nonetheless.

Final Thoughts

At the end of the day, I’m just so tired of reading about The Lost Village. The community has exhausted me on this one — To quote Lovepon, “Grabbed each of my legs and tore in opposite directions.” I went in with a lot of excitement for a hot mystery show and ended up with a slightly twisted yet comedic take on rebirth. I’ll admit that it had me going for the first five or so episodes, but once the ghouls revealed themselves, it didn’t take off like I thought it would. Was I supposed to be scared? Maybe . . . ? But I still laugh that I tried watching this at night and got too scared to leave my room to pee, hehe.

The Lost Village is to say the least an oddball, and regardless of whether it was trying to be a satire of horror mysteries or something like that, I can confirm that it fell flat on its mission. I think it all just strayed waaay too far from the trail it seemed to promise, much like a wanderer looking for paradise who got lost in the process. As a simulcast, however, I cannot deny the fact that I kept coming back each week just to see how it would end . . . Like, the bus went up in flames, but how far would it roll down the hill?

Pretty far, actually. I can’t see it being brought up ever again after a week or two.

“I’m interested in the results.” – Lion

Final Assessment

+ Given its composition, village mystery vibe kept up a good ¾ of the way in

+ Main theme song in OST fit the eerie tone perfectly

– Poor balance between characters’ skepticism, actual village mystery, and themes it might’ve been trying to press

Enormous cast with lack of believable drive and development from those move forward; stupidity is contagious


I’m slightly annoyed with Mayoiga as is, so you’ll find it here under the lowly “Breads” archive. It’s not bad, but there are so many other anime out there that explore the same concept, yet do it better. Like Angel Beats! for the personal acceptance stuff or Another for the superstition bit. The show also could have been interesting and made me have wanted to think had there not been so many troll characters. Did you follow The Lost Village this season? If so, how did you feel about its overall presentation? Until next time, this has been

– Takuto, your host