Review of Paprika

Paprika is the epitome of a young child ending their school assignment with “…and then I woke up.” In other words, the story appears to be the writers’ first rendition of what could constitute as “the unexpected.” In light of the fact that the story does indeed rely on its visually disjointed storytelling, the reality that tells a straightforward theme paints a different picture. Owing to its convoluted depiction, the story seems to be concerned with appearing to have a facade of a dreamlike depiction under the mystique of “visual storytelling.” From unexplained pseudo-sci-fi mechanics to cartoonish supervillains, the execution of its feels juvenile innature. Although it’s a bit of an exaggeration, the fact that its singular message was recited in a clear and precise manner (again, the unexpected) was quite the bummer. At first glance, the film appears to imply its deliberate delving into the deepest levels of the human psyche so that the underlying problems we face can be resolved; however, upon further examination, it’s merely a commentary pertaining to unbridled escapism, and vice versa.

The film must’ve thought that dreams can be about anything, because it decided to use this same method of thinking when drafting its story. Although there are common reoccurrences within the plot that are loosely connected by an underlying theme, many events of the plot itself are sporadic and marked by insubstantial, trippy backdrops. The film’s main means to an end involves a mind-reading device known as the DC mini. After a very basic rundown of what the device can do, it is revealed that it can project the wearer of the device’s dreams onto a screen. Initially, the film seems to be a cryptic pseudo-mystery thriller that focuses on retrieving a device that could be used for malicious means. Or, the film appears to show how such a device could be used non-maliciously, as seen by a therapist who helps her clients by analyzing their dreams. However, it instead focuses on the concept of oneness, in which the dreamworld and reality fuse, for two worlds are meant to be apart. Ironically enough, the film appears to have a bit of an identity crisis given that it handles all three aspects of the plot superficially.

When trying to transcend this matter, the unexplained events aren't offered much of an explanation besides a cursory overview of technology's current applicability in fiction. For example, the worldbuilding is weak and the functions of the DC mini and its dreamlike spillage into reality are never explained. Yes, the DC mini can help people gain insight into peoples’ dreams and corrupt reality or whatever, but how? The film could benefit by at least give a more complex explanation as to how the technology works so that it has more to build off of. Present or not, brain reading devices that scan brainwaves are already present in the real world, so there's not much else needed to make the technology believable… say by a conglomeration of brain MRI scans and artificial intelligence; however, the reality corrupting aspect of the technology is essentially passed off as a “Whoops, the condom broke.” Besides, all of the device’s consequences pertaining to the usage the device are quickly resolved so that the negative effects of the device don’t matter in the long-run anyway. Likewise, its dreamlike spillage into reality focuses on the last-minute inclusion of a predictable one-note villain that hopes to merge the two worlds once and for all, only to be defeated by deus ex machina. For a plot so whimsical, it was a bit surprising given the film’s simplistic plot and cliché ending.

For a film that supposedly stars Paprika, the woman herself is shown through an alter-ego character that operates under a vague motif. As an idealized and arguably complete opposite version of her true self Dr. Atsuko, Paprika is a bubbly and carefree woman who seems to run away from her responsibilities. Throughout her time in the dreamworld, she encourages her main patient Detective Konakawa to figure out what’s bothering him as she gives him hints to what the contents of his dream may be, as expected from a therapist. That pretty much covers the similarities when it comes to wanting to help people solve their problems. Her main issue in the film is her tendency to repress herself, which is why Dr. Atsuko uses her alter-ego Paprika to live an idealized fantasy away from the real world. In the real world, she has a strong sense of duty in the real world, but is unable to assess it without being so rigid and dutiful to her role as a psychiatrist. Henceforth, she uses Paprika to break free from her rigid self in a world that is similarly unrestricted by hard-set limits.

In stark contrast, her patient Detective Konakawa is a man who seems to have forgotten about what fun is. He has more of a role in the story that Paprika, given that his role as a detective is temporarily convenient for the pseudo-mystery plot point. Instead of being concerned with escapism at all, he adamantly inquires for Dr. Atsuko (or Paprika in this case) to analyze his dreams so that his nightmares plaguing him can finally end. What he does not realize is that his dreams as a form of escapism can help solve the main issue that’s bugging him in his line of work, an unsolved murder case. His adamancy towards his dislike for movies made his character development quite simple. Considering Dr. Atsuko’s development for tightening up and not using escapism as a means to live an idealized version of herself, Konakawa follows a similar, and yet different formula involving him simply “lightening up.” The character development and the interactions between these two characters are simple, so it’s easier to see them not as characters, but mere elements of the story’s themes.

When stronger emotions such as those pertaining to romance get added into the mix, things start to get a bit iffy. There’s a disgustingly obese character named Tokito who is portrayed as a “kid at heart” while hiding feelings for “a special someone,” who must similarly escape his tendency to live in a fantasy world in order to profess his love. Besides him though, the characters are fine for the most part; it’s just that they all follow a similar path of character development, which is why the characters are bland and less of a highlight than say… the themes for example.

The artwork lives up to its fantastical depiction of its dreamlike world. Likewise, the real world has a similar effect when the two worlds temporarily merge together as one. Even the very first scene displays its showlike atmosphere with its flashy colors, smooth transitions, and its fitting circus music. Paprika (both the film and the character) best emphasizes the trope of “no time to explain,” because the show its largely concerned with being “show-offy.” Much to the films dismay however, the beginning of the film wastes no time to broadcast its medium of animation to the fullest. For a world so disjointed, its transition scenes were quite clever and mind-bendingly smooth. Similarly, the animation itself that would occasionally use a lot of moving parts together emanates the highly mechanized, and yet chaotic functions of a dreamlike world. Often times, dreams would often feel very real because the vivid memories and sensations that are created in the brain piggyback off of some of the mechanics in the real world. This method of thinking could potentially align with Paprika’s comment on cinema’s similarities with dreams, because although they both offer a form of fantastical escapism, they both vaguely follow a set of rules that can be applicable towards one’s own life. Much like the film’s transitions, the character’s movements also piggyback off of the warped transition scenes, because they also follow a similar formula of fluidity. The occasional still-frame meant to portray the art itself is on the weaker side only because the animation overshadows it so much. Overall, it aligns within the film’s supposed method of “visual storytelling,” which somehow fits decently well with the coherent themes and unexplained plot points.

Overall, the story of Paprika somehow prides itself in following the rather random nature of dreams, only to follow a rather simplistic formula when it comes to its story and characters. Due to this, some of the events that play out and the foreseeable consequences that could potentially come with “playing g0d” which don’t make the film any more exciting to watch. The DC mini is hinted at having some importance in the film, but the unexplained mechanics and possible consequences of using it never receive a satisfying explanation. Perhaps the film wasn’t meant to be a science-fiction film, which is fine; however, its analysis of the human psyche is a bit too simplistic considering the fact that the two main characters’ development follows a similar, and yet different path of development. Dr. Atsuko uses her alter-ego to help her adjust to the responsibilities that she neglects in the real world, while Konakawa uses his dreams to solve an unsolved murder case. The characters' interactions which tie into the themes are simple. However, when other aspects of character interactions are added, the characters become less of a highlight given that the characters more-so exist to be thematic. At least the non-simplistic animation makes up for the narrative a bit, because the film would’ve otherwise been a huge bore.

If you want to unexpectedly see anime titties (oops, not so expected now, is it?) for a few seconds than this might be for you. Otherwise, you might want to consider the film's simplistic portrayal of escapism.