Before ‘Inception,’ ‘Paprika’ indulged in its own dream logic

The dream world in Christopher Nolan’sĀ InceptionĀ (2010) doesn’t always feel like, well, a dream. With his co-writing partner and brother Jonathan, Nolan outlines the groundĀ rules of planting ideas in the minds of the unconscious well before hisĀ elaborate heist unfolds, and the rigid structure and well-defined archetypes invite us to read into deeper meaning and allegory on our own. Perhaps theĀ mostĀ common interpretation recastsĀ InceptionĀ as aĀ blueprint for Nolan’s philosophy on filmmaking, with each character standing in for a stage in the production process.

Paprika, which helps round out the WUD Film Committee’s Spring calendar this weekend, weaves its own fixation with dreams into a love of cinema, though its interest in movie magic is far less buried than Nolan’s. The fourth and final feature from Satoshi Kon (who died from pancreatic cancer the same summer of Inception’s release) takes an expressive, even overindulgent approach to depicting dreams, and its only real interest in technicalities exists in introducing its plot. Kon and writer Seishi Minakami imagine a world in which therapists provide the ultimate in hands-on treatment by directly entering the dreams of their patients. Dr. Atsuko Chiba however, also uses the technology to help those outside of her practice as well, exploring those dreams by way of her red-head alter ego “Paprika.” A sexual idyll, manic pixie vigilante, and subconscious terrorist, Atsuko uses Paprika to move between reality and dream with ease, a cavalier methodology that comes under fire when a sinister force steals theĀ technologyĀ and uses itĀ to invade the minds of others.

The inevitableĀ blending of reality and dream is occasionally disorienting to the point of disorganization, but Satoshi Kon’s grasp of animation never fails to provide gorgeous visuals. As a symbol of this slowly eroding division, a marching onslaught of anthropomorphic appliances, dancing frogs and swaying porcelain dolls pops with vivid color. (Think of Spirited Away‘s bathhouse customers and the whimsical danger their imaginative formsĀ suggest.) When the collective “id” of the hijacked minds eventually overwhelm the present, Kon abandons any Nolan-esque rules in favor of a completely indulgent experience. Like its characters, Paprika dares its audience to give in to their dreams and desires wholesale.

  • Paprika plays Friday and Saturday at midnight in The Marquee. FREE.