The Morbid Side of Idol Industry: Analysing Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue (1997) [Editorial]

Disclaimer: This article contains spoilers for Perfect Blue. Do not read it if you have not seen the film.

 

      It's all right. There is no way illusions can come to life.

Perfect Blue is one of the rare Japanese classics that need no introduction. This animated psychological thriller directed by the late Satoshi Kon still enjoys a cult following, 23 years after its release. The mesmerising spectacle of ambiguity and insanity where reality mixes with fantasy to date generates a multitude of disparate interpretations. In this small piece, I attempt to provide my own thoughts and reflections on the legendary anime feature. Without further ado, let’s prepare our karaoke gear and dive into the sublime shades of Perfect Blue.

First of all, some introductory information about the production is required. The animation was, in fact, inspired by the novels of Yoshikazu Takeuchi: Perfect Blue: Complete Metamorphosis and Perfect Blue: Awaken from a Dream. Although Satoshi Kon was already an experienced professional in the anime industry (he worked as an assistant artist on Akira (1988), layout designer on Patlabor 2: The Movie (1993), and co-showrunner on JoJo Bizarre’s Adventure OVA (1993)), this movie was supposed to be his live-action debut feature. Nevertheless, due to the infamous Kobe Earthquake in 1995, the studio significantly reduced the budget, leaving just enough financial resources to make original video animation. Consequently, Satoshi Kon went ahead with this approach, having significantly changed the screenplay because he felt that the original story was boring. Ironically, the director was right as the live-action version of Perfect Blue received unfavourable reviews upon its release in 2002.

The animation tells the story of Mima Kirigoe who is an idol singer and a part of J-Pop group called CHAM! When she decides to give up singing and become a full-time actress, her fans as well as a personal agent, Rumi, are not entirely impressed. Mima’s transfer to the realm of Television results in the change of her image from a pure, innocent idol to perverse drama actress. Soon after, Mima starts receiving strange letters, somebody sets up an internet site and pretends to be her, and crewmembers associated with the drama are murdered in mysterious circumstances. Mima gradually loses her grip on reality, not certain if she is a pop singer, actress, or a schizophrenic…

Perfect Blue seems to be a perfect companion piece to David Lynch’s Lost Highway (1997) and Mulholland Drive (2001) because the storyline can be approached from different angles. Satoshi Kon masterfully creates the suspenseful world of voyeurism and consumer-driven obsession in which an idol is nothing more but a commodity on display. It is not breaking news that the showbiz industry in Japan suffers from a fair share of malpractice and exploitation: the artists always have to be cool and happy in front of cameras, they are also given stringent daily schedules, have to participate in questionable photo sessions, and follow a strict regimen. Since the 1980s, they are effectively bullied into depression, which often results in commiting suicide. Unfortunately, in view of the abundance of recent news about untimely deaths of Japanese actors, musicians, etc. it cannot be said that ethics in the industry have improved.

Satoshi Kon tackles the issue of rotten showbusiness through the character of Mima. As a J-Pop singer, she was so cute and perfect that she could almost be a pocket cinderella, dancing on a hand of her stalker.

However, Mima quickly “falls from grace” when she rebrands herself. She is marked as “a traitor” and an idol vision of herself states that Mina has become “a filthy woman.” Indeed, participating in a drama is not a pleasant experience for the heroine because she has to perform a rape scene and also pose for a NSFW photo session. During these harrowing moments, the boundaries between real and unreal become blurred. Is Mima really a singer? Is she an actress? Perhaps she is neither? Maybe she is truly a victim of rape who lost her mind? The uncertainty concerning her identity becomes apparent in a key scene when the characters of Rumi and Eri tell her in alternate realities (the apartment/drama set) that “There is no way illusions can come to life.” Satoshi Kon’s tendency to frame Mima within the confines of 4:3 format is not helping either. Mima is literally trapped inside the chassis of a CRT TV.

It is very easy to assume that Mima is a schizophrenic, or even more so, to declare that Mima does not exist at all because everything what we see on the screen is a work of fiction devised by Satoshi Kon. However, let’s assume for the sake of the argument that Mima is a real person and functions as a symbolic representation of the oppressed idol stars. How the story unfolds from this perspective:

Indeed, Mima used to be a recognisable J-Pop singer. She did transfer to acting which greatly unsettled her agent. No, she did not murder people who were repsonsible for violating her pure image (a screenwriter, photographer, and a representative of the agency). The villainous figure responsible for meddling with Mima’s mental health is Rumi herself. She carried out the killings, wrote threatening letters, and set up “Mima’s Room” webpage (Ironically, as it is later revealed, Rumi’s room is a perfect copy of Mima’s own room). In all probability, Rumi approached Me-Mania stalker, giving him all the merch and tips about when and where Mima will appear. Rumi desperately desired to become the idolised version of Mima. We can only suspect the reasons: Perhaps she tried to become an idol in the Showa era? Maybe her career was short-lived or never really took off because of her looks? This may be the reason why she became a talent agent.

In the animation’s climatic finale, we see Rumi and Mima fighting each other on a street. After surviving the ordeal, Mima not only defeats her delusional mentor (who ends up in a psychiatric hospital) but she also rejects her showbiz persona. There is no longer Mima the singer and Mima the actress. As the heroine breaks the fourth wall in the last shot and says to the audience: “I’m very much real!” she embraces her own individuality. When M-VOICE’s Season song kicks in, we can be sure that Mima has received a happy ending (providing that she was real...)

Without a doubt, my interpretation is not a definite explanation of what happened in the movie. The charm of Perfect Blue is that you can deconstruct it many different ways. However, I felt I needed to let out and structure my thoughts about this wonderful masterpiece which is still relevant today. It is not surprising that to date it inspires filmmakers across the globe; see for instance Darren Arrofosnky’s Requiem for a Dream (2000) and Black Swan (2010). Satoshi Kon was truly an artist ahead of his time. «Enjoyed this post? Never miss out on future posts by following us»