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.
 
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Space Sweepers (2021) [Film Review]

Space Sweepers; or, Guardians of the Orbit
     Uncle Tae Ho, you wanna know something? There’s no up or down in space.Nothing out here is better or worse than anything else. That’s because everything out here has its special place. That’s what dad always says.
I admit that this particular review is slightly unplanned and out of the blue. Space Sweepers came to my attention a little over a year ago when I read an announcement about the production, but I forgot about it later. This week, however, when the film premiered on Netflix, the internet is exploding inside-out with the hype! Needless to say, I went with the flow and checked it out over the weekend. After over 2 hours of ridiculous fun, I can safely say that this is a legit space opera made in South Korea.
Release Info
Directed by: Jo Sung Hee Starring: Song Joong Ki, Kim Tae Ri, Jin Seon Kyu, Yoo Hae Jin, Park Ye Rin
Language: Korean Original Title: 승리호 Runtime: 138 min
Synopsis
Space, the final frontier which eventually became humanity’s last hope. In the year 2092, Earth is basically an uninhabitable place for people. A private company known as UTS, owned by a 150-year-old physicist, James Sullivan (Richard Armitage), built a special space station on the Earth’s orbit, but it is limited only to a privileged group. We follow the misadventures of the crew of a ship called The Victory. While competing with other sweepers, Captain Jang (Kim Tae Ri), Tae Ho (Song Joong Ki), Tiger Park (Jin Seon Kyu), and Bubs (Yoo Hae Jin) collect space junk for money in order to stay afloat in a grey area where they are deemed as non-citizens. All of a sudden, they find a humanoid robot Dorothy (Park Ye Rin). The child is wanted by the authorities because she is said to be a weapon of mass destruction; however, the Victory crewmembers discover that the child can influence the nanobots in her surroundings and thus create plant life.
Victory to the Brave
The science fiction genre still seems to be the uncharted territory for Asian Cinema. The Wandering Earth from 2019 clearly showed that filmmakers from the East want to give Hollywood a run for their money, and Space Sweepers movie follows this trend. Allegedly, director Jo Sung Hee spent 10 years on just writing the screenplay. After assembling the budget of roughly 20 million dollars (nearly 13 times less than the financial resources of Rise of Skywalker flick), the production was given the green light. Nevertheless, an unexpected strike of the pandemic forced the producers to distribute the picture via Netflix where it debuted at number 1 spot on the 5th of February, 2021.
Although the budget may appear to be small in comparison to Hollywood blockbusters, it is really hard to spot the technical shortcomings in Space Sweepers. The CGI is decent and the scenography absolutely stunning! The team behind the movie was clearly inspired by the motifs from Alien (1979) and Blade Runner (1982) while creating the reality of "used future". All the spaceship interiors, props, and costumes are a pleasure to look at.
In terms of its overall style, Space Sweepers is not as serious as the aforementioned sci-fi classics. There are light-hearted moments, epic space battles as well as tear-jerking K-Drama bits. I think it is best to describe the film as an amalgam of Firefly (2000) and Le Cinquième Élément (1995). Just like in these two pictures, we have a likeable crew of underestimated mavericks and an other-worldly being who is a key to saving the world.
This does not mean that the movie is free from disadvantages. During the first 20 minutes, the viewers are exposed to some highly extensive exposition. If you will not pay enough attention, you may feel confused later on. In addition, the main protagonists could have been better fleshed out (only Tae Ho gets proper character development). To be honest, there is so much going on in the story (villains chasing heroes from point A to B, unraveling the true nature of Dorothy) that at times I thought Space Sweepers would function better as a three-episode long drama.
However, the storyline was generally presented in a coherent manner. In fact, when the end credits kicked in with Kim Tae Song’s theme song, I felt more entertained than after watching The Wandering Earth. Space Sweepers hits all the right marks of a popcorn fun fest, and presses on at a breakneck pace.
With regard to performances, Song Joong Ki and Kim Tae Ri are hands down freaking awesome in this movie! Having known the leads from dead serious roles in The Battleship Island (2017) and The Handmaiden (2016), I am surprised that they went for a space adventure flick. Additional praise goes to Jin Seon Kyu as Tiger Park and Yoo Hae Jin as Bubs. I immediately recognised Hae Jin’s voice as the robot, but I was surprised to read online that the actor actually did some motion caption as well! It is also pretty cool that they brought Richard Armitage on board. Last but no least, Park Ye Rin is super sweet as Dorothy.

Recommendations
Go ahead and check out Space Sweepers. In order to fully appreciate the viewing experience, I suggest you play it on a large TV screen and use headphones (sound editing is also top notch!). All in all, it may not be a Hollywood crowd-pleaser, but you don’t need the “made in America” label of approval to enjoy this film. It perfectly knows what it is and has a heart in the right place.
Overall score: 8/10
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Samurai of the Sky (1976) [Film Review]

Samurai of the Sky; or, Divine Winds
     You are not here to die but to fight!
When looking at the legacy of Japanese filmography, it becomes apparent that the industry always had an affinity for making war dramas. From Fires on the Plain (1959) to Yamato (2005), war movies made in Japan communicated distinct themes, such as exploitation of an individual or heroism of soldiers. Albeit forgotten, Seiji Maruyama’s Samurai of the Sky is a perfect exemplification of the latter concept. The movie is an adaptation of memoirs written by Saburo Sakai, a naval aviator of the Imperial Japanese Navy during World War II.
Release Info
Directed by: Seiji Maruyama Starring: Hiroshi Fujioka, Naoko Otani, Tetsuro Tamba
Language: Japanese Original Title: 大空のサムライ Runtime: 102 min
Synopsis
The Solomon Islands, 1943. Saburo Sakai (Hiroshi Fujioka) is the leader of an aerial squadron which takes down enemy planes and protects Japanese bombers. He frequently clashes with basically everybody in his outfit because he wants to get things done and protect his men. Sakai is perfectly aware of the fact that the battle in the sky is the “kill or be killed” kind of situation. During one of the battles, the pilot gets badly injured and he loses his squad. Will he be able to make it back to the base?
The Zero Fighter
Interesting thing about Samurai of the Sky is the fact that it does not try to be a stereotypical tale about Japanese pilots who are only capable of killing themselves while ramming their planes into enemy fighters. In the first act, we see Saburo reprimanding his new commanding officer that the most important thing is to survive and keep on fighting.
Throughout the film we see various subplots concerning the squadron members. How stupidity becomes their damnation or how they can’t handle the pressure. Saburo, on the other hand, behaves like a vicious animal just because he desires to stay alive.
In terms of special effects, the crew clearly  used miniatures of zero aircrafts and a lot of wire work. The fights are done fairly well, but you can see that they are not entirely up to par when compared with Kinji Fukasaku’s segments for Tora Tora Tora (1970), filmed just 6 years before Samurai of the Sky.
With regard to performances, Hiroshi Fujioka is undeniably a perfect choice to play Saburo Sakai. After doing Kamen Rider in 1971, the actor’s career really took off in the 1970s, especially within the Tokusatsu genre. My praise also goes to Naoko Otani who provided a subtle portrayal of Japanese nurse trying to deal with the war turmoil. In addition, Tetsuro Tamba also makes a brief appearance as Captain Saito, the direct superior of Sakai.
Recommendations
If you are in the mood for a film that praises the bravado of Japanese pilots, then I recommend Samurai of the Sky. It is a bit dated, but Hiroshi Fujioka makes it an enjoyable ride with a touch of pathos. Interestingly, it was Seiji Maruyama’s penultimate picture before his retirement. I got it dirt cheap on DVD in my country.
Overall score: 7/10
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