I have a fear of dolls. Growing up in the 90s, where most children’s films and horror films were largely based on toys that mysteriously came to life and either saved the day or gruesomely killed a lot of people, I feel my fear is 100% rational. By dolls, I don’t mean Barbie dolls. I could snap that over-primped twig in two with a well-placed karate chop. It’s the 2ft-tall Victorian dolls, popular in 19th century England and now adorning many a charity shop shelf, that plague my nightmares. Their cold glassy stares, their menacing smiles and their perfectly-formed hands all combine to exhaust my overactive imagination.
Ooh, and ventriloquist dummies – they look as though they are just waiting for that moment to be free from their nether regions-violating oppressor and exact bloody revenge.
The premise of Satoshi Kon’s 2006 anime film, Paprika, is centred on the DC Mini, a revolutionary device that allows therapists to access their patients’ dreams and perform psychotherapy. While still in its early development stages, the DC Mini is stolen from the laboratory and it is believed to be an insider job. It is up to Paprika, a mysterious and spirited woman, to find the culprit and prevent him from using the DC Mini to allow dreams and reality to merge.
The heart of the story is the way in which dreams can be manipulated and even accessed while the dreamer is awake. The switches between the characters’ dreams and reality is so seamlessly done that the viewer is always left unsure which world the story is taking place in after every scene change. The terrifyingly happy musical nonsense parade of toys (featuring a lot of giant Victorian dolls with rattling heads) and anthropomorphised everyday objects that tear through the city in both the dream world and reality is full of vivid details and intensely multi-coloured splendour. Unfortunately, it is during one of the scenes that I initially caught Paprika on Film4 during a late-night channel-hopping session. Leaving the room to wail in distress in my bedroom, my housemate watched Paprika to the end, transfixed by the discordant music and bizarre plot. His review the next day – “I don’t understand what happened but it looked good” – propelled me to watch the whole film.
The most outstanding characteristic about Paprika is the rich and vibrant characters, commonplace in Kon’s work. The protagonist, Dr Chiba Atsuko, is almost sterile in personality but exceedingly talented in her field. She is of a classic beauty and precise in both movement and words. Dr Chiba’s alter-ego, Paprika, is far from the same. While Dr Chiba is strictly business, Paprika is wild, feisty and carefree. Her fellow researcher, Dr Tokita is of a similar talent in intelligence but not in looks. The waddling, wobbling genius with a childlike disposition and an endless appetite both irritates and amazes Dr Chiba. The driving character of the story is Detective Konakawa, a troubled man with a past that he cannot shake off. He seeks the help of Paprika to help him find peace in his dreams.
There is something for all in this anime. The soundtrack composed by Susumu Hirasawa is perfectly form-fitting for every scene. There are also a lot of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments of references to other anime, such as Dragon Ball and Perfect Blue. Though it’s not up there with offerings from anime giant Studio Ghibli, I would recommend Paprika to everyone keen on its definitive feel-good factor.
And if you’re thinking “Hmm, this sounds suspiciously like that film with Jay Gatsby, Juno and Bane in it…”, Christopher Nolan has cited Paprika as his inspiration for Inception.