Guest Article by James Ryan
The world was recently surprised and saddened by the sudden death of one of the most imaginative directors working in films. Satoshi Kon passed away at the young age of 47 from pancreatic cancer, only three months after receiving the diagnosis from his doctors. He left behind a wife, many friends and fans, and a legacy of amazing work that taken together as a whole forms a distinct collective vision that makes statements that few others working in any visual media show the courage to explore.
While his oeuvre is relatively slim, consisting of four feature films released before he died and Paranoia Agent, a 13 episode TV series, there are strong themes and currents that run through his work that can be appreciated for the strong statements they impress on viewers. Among the points he employed to engage his audience throughout his body work were the following:
Perfect Blue (1998)
The Fragile Nature of Reality – From the beginning, the one thing any viewer could count on when watching Kon’s work would be the revelation that nothing can be accepted as certain. Mima Kirigoe’s trip into madness in Perfect Blue (1998) as she tries to change careers from pop singer to actress (both professions where perception is malleable) is the first time Kon introduces us to this concept, as we watch her struggle against the Hitchcock-like plan her obsessed fans carry out to make her believe that she has remained a singer in the group CHAN, and that this woman who claims to be her trying to be an actress is an imposter who must go. His first film not only sets this theme but embodies it as well; originally meant to be a live action production, the damage done by the Kobe earthquake of 1995 to the production facilities he was to use forced him to turn it into an animated film, which he makes the most of when he demonstrates the madness of Mima’s adversaries.
The Subject As Shaper Of /Shaped By Reality – Earthquakes play an important role in his second film, Millennium Actress (2001), as pivotal occurrences during important moments in Chiyoko Fujiwara’s life. This actress, an old woman when she is introduced, is the subject of a documentary on her career being produced by Genya Tachibana. During Genya’s interview of her, Chiyoko recalls vividly the important moments of her life and her most prominent roles in films, reliving them along with Genya. What tells the audience that these recollections are not simply two people getting into the moment is the fact that Kyoji, the young cameraman, is also swept into these unfolding realities, serving as our surrogate as he cowers and complains about the sudden shifts under him. And yet he’s no mere passenger, as he observes during some of the stops along the way Genya’s deeper connection with Chiyoko, helping to reveal a bigger truth. Which brings us to…
The Redemptive Power of Truth – This theme is most strongly demonstrated in Tokyo Godfathers (2003). Some consider this Kon’s most muted example of the fantastic playing with reality, which a viewer can only do if one’s willing to ignore the subtle hand of good fortune showing up at opportune times whenever the main characters perform a heroic act. The three homeless people who discover an abandoned baby on Christmas Eve are all attempting to run away from their existences prior to their lives on the street, and have made up pasts they present to each other. Gin claims he a bike racer who was forced to fix a race, while Miyuki the young girl and Hana the drag queen (another profession where perception is malleable) say little about how they came to the streets. As the trio decide against just going to the police and take it upon themselves to try and reunite the child with her real parents, they come to reveal the truth. In order to save the baby Hana named Kiyoko, Gin has to acknowledge that he was not a bike racer but a bike repairman with gambling debts, while Hana reveals how she fell after abusing a customer at a drag club and Miyuki confesses to running away from home. For their honesty, they find fortune smiling upon them as they bring a family back together, while forming one amongst themselves.
Paprika (2006)
Warping Reality as a Tool, for Good or Evil – The misuse by Chairman Inui of the DC Mini, a device used for entering dreams in Paprika (2006), made the plans hatched against Mima Kirigoe feel like only a minor annoyance. In the right hands, especially those of Doctor Atsuko Chiba (who treats her patients surreptitiously under the constructed guise of “Paprika,” yet another example of people warping perceptions at work), the use of the device to enter dreams can help patients deal with anxiety and neurosis. Her boss, the Chairman, soon realizes that with the DC Mini, he has the power to merge his dreams with everyone else’s reality, and thus becomes omnipotent as the world goes mad. It’s only Chiba and her alternate identity Paprika that stand between a single accepted reality we all share and one we’ve all had imposed upon us. (And yes, if you have a choice between watching this film and Inception, this is the better of the two entering-another’s-dream stories…)
The Struggle of the Artist – In all of his work, in addition to the themes cited above, there’s always an artist on whom the tale focuses. Usually female, always under pressure to produce or defend her work, the artist could be seen as Kon’s sympathetic representative in his story, the person by whom the tale is driven. We see this archetype in Mima in Perfect Blue, Chiyoko in Millennium Actress, Hana in Tokyo Godfathers and Detective Konakawa in Paprika, whose anxieties we watch Paprika deal with throughout the film and who, during treatment, realizes how his not completing a film with his friend may be an underlying cause of his trauma.
All five of these themes strongly assert themselves throughout Kon’s work, and are likely to be present in The Dream Machine, the last film he was working on before his death. According to early press releases, the story is described as “a road movie with robots;” some of the production stills released suggest it may be set in a time when humans are gone and only robots remain, which would continue his established themes through another work.
While his themes may go on, they will do so without their creator, who left a poignant farewell on his blog. Satoshi Kon’s strong vision and contemplations of perception were singular, and will be missed.
Here at AMIN, we want to thank James Ryan for writing such a wonderful article for us about one of the most appreciated directors in the world, Satoshi Kon.
Shaun Evaristo, Keone Madrid, and Mari Martin, three choreographers from Movement Lifestyle were given the opportunity to help with choreography for one of Korea’s famous entertainment companies, YG Entertainment. We already know Shaun very well through his work with TaeYang and Big Bang. Now with the help of Keone and Mari, the trio were given the task to work with dances for TaeYang, Se7en, and 2NE1.
