Dr. Shima's Psychiatric Center will soon employ ground-breaking equipment that will allow the institute's psychotherapists, supervised by Dr. Atsuko Chiba, to observe patients' dreams on a monitor.
Tokita, a brilliant but psychologically immature scientist (as indicated by his terrible obesity, from which he can't seem to break free), invents an even more advanced technology, the DC Mini, that allows psychiatrists and patients to share dreams.
Shima, while waiting for the authorities to approve the use of the DC Mini, authorizes Atsuko to use the machine in secret, posing as the alias Paprika to clients.
Shima's old buddy, Police Detective Konakawa, who is plagued by a reoccurring nightmare, also seeks "Paprika's" assistance.
Three copies of the DC Mini are stolen one day, and because Tokita failed to include a protection system, the thief is free to enter other people's dreams and manipulate them for his own ends. Furthermore, the DC Mini has undesirable side effects, as everyone who uses it runs the risk of confusing reality with a dream, even if they are not sleeping.
Doctor Shima's head is filled with a dream of a mad parade composed of the most diverse objects while he is awake, and in a delusion of omnipotence, he throws himself from the balcony, risking death.
The nightmares eventually manifest in the "real" world, driving people insane and causing the city to be destroyed. Using the DC Mini, even Atsuko/Paprika is unable to restore order to the dream world. Konakawa, on the other hand, has resumed his dreams...
An open dedica to cinema: Paprika becomes the definitive reflection of his author (Satoshi Kon) on his admiration for the Seventh Art from a strictly conceptual standpoint. It's not just a confession of love for cinema; it's also, and perhaps most importantly, a comment on the power of images. Because, according to Kon, cinema is the artist's willful portrayal of reality. To put it another way, cinema is like a dream. Even more so today, when social and Internet dynamics force a new, unprecedented role for the image, which overrides reality.
The image is at the center of everything on Instagram and Tik Tok; it is absolute. However, that image is not reality; it takes on a different meaning depending on the author's filter. In movies and animation, the same phenomenon happens, but on a less direct and more intricate level, because there is a narrative structure, character depth, and a relationship with the audience that relies on the suspension of disbelief.
Paprika is a visual delight. Seeing is believing; a few simple screenshots would suffice to demonstrate the film's outstanding quality. The realistic design and attention to detail generate a number of settings in which the viewer is taken aback by pleasant surprises whether gazing at a room, an amusement park, traffic, a laboratory, or food. The varied surroundings, outfits, shadows, artificial lights, and the skin of the people are all made "real" by the bright and vibrant colors. Everything is always in "motion," nothing is static, which is bothersome since it is "unreal," but everything is never still in reality. The varied characters' expressions are always honest, never too weighted, as the best biases about animation (especially those about Japanese animation) may suggest. The animation is outstanding, smooth, and free of those annoying "jerks" found in far too many animation products; everything has its natural "movement," and everything has its natural and logical growth, depending on the situation, avoiding the outcome that opposite items have identical "movements."
Psycological characterization: We dig inside the minds of the characters in "Paprika," as they are the ones who move the threads of this elaborate drama.
There's a cop who can't sleep at night because of an unresolved murder case, but perhaps there's a hidden sense of guilt there. A young psychiatrist has voluntarily shut down her own emotions, unable to express genuine feelings. There is a genius who is like a kid stuck in an adult body, awkward and gluttonous. And there are a few more. The real protagonists of the film will be self-acceptance, peace with oneself, and the human being's most hidden and often mysterious desires.
We are never who we appear to be in the sight of others, even ourselves. Exploring the fascinating world of dreams can truly unlock a door to the human psyche that has never been opened before; all you need is the appropriate key.
Individual behavior, mental diseases, psychological breakdowns, and everything else that is still undefinable because it is misinterpreted and hence classified as different and incorrect is yet very young science. Fascinating, yet far from the truth, regarding what lurks in our heads, which remains as enigmatic as a complex lost dream.
For me, it is really difficult to find some defects in this movie, since I really loved it. The only thing that I can think of (and that for me it isn't at all a negative thing, but maybe for others can be): Paprika is a challenging movie.
It is not difficult to comprehend because, in the end, the core story is simple: someone dominates dreams and wishes to "dominate" the world through them.
However, it is tough to follow since it never ever gives you a chance to breathe.
It's a film full of details, so rich in them that you can't help but wonder how much effort and commitment went into making it.
The carnival parade's dream, that personal dream that rises up and collectively includes all other people's dreams, is visually something never seen before in animation, an astounding caravanserai with more stuff in it than many other animations put together.
Conclusion
Paprika is a must-watch animation movie. I don't want to add more than this since I think that my review is quite eloquent.
Rating
9.5/10.0
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