The Anime Backlog

Millennium Actress

We're in between conventions, faithful readers, so it's time to scratch another one off the backlog. I have just enough time to get reacclimated to my timezone from Washington DC to throw it in the trash before heading to New York City. With all this thought on the ephemeral and transcendental concept of time, let's throw in a movie that encapsulates it while centering on one woman's all-consuming artistic drive.

Note: This column will routinely include spoilers. Reader discretion is advised.

It's with a heavy heart that I have to admit that it's entirely reasonable for modern anime fans not to know of Satoshi Kon. Kon was a manga creator, scriptwriter, and director who influenced the likes of Darren Aronofsky and Guillermo del Toro (notably, Kon wasn't a big fan of Aronofsky's "homages" to his work). His career is tied to so many equally talented contemporaries it seems impossible that Kon wouldn't touch greatness himself. He worked as an assistant under Akira creator Katsuhiro Ōtomo, provided layouts for Mamoru Oshii's Patlabor 2 film, and scripted the Magnetic Rose segment of Memories all before making his directorial with Perfect Blue. Many of his works were animated at Madhouse during Masao Maruyama's tenure.

Perfect Blue was like lightning in a bottle. The film was unflinchingly dark, traversing the psychological deterioration of an idol exploited in mid-90s Japan. Critically-acclaimed, the film's positive reception opened up more opportunities to Kon (even if the film's distribution company's own doors closed). Kon's sophomore film Millennium Actress built on narrative techniques utilized in Perfect Blue, albeit with a much different tone and outcome. The film marks his second of only five total directorial works; Kon passed away due to pancreatic cancer in 2010, just shy of his 47th birthday.

Oh god, does it. Rarely am I so mad at myself for not watching something sooner. Millennium Actress does this wonderful thing where it takes the same narrative trick from Perfect Blue but flips it. Instead of following an unreliable narrator fraught with a lost sense of self, we have the aging actress Chiyoko, who retells her singular goal through vignettes of her acting career. The film is open to varying interpretations, but at face value, she became infatuated with a political defector during the Sino-Japanese War as a teen. She spends the rest of her life pursuing him to return a key that unlocks "the most important thing."

The only criticism I can lob at this beautiful film is accepting that one encounter could become the central motivator for a woman's entire life. However, that's only if you're willing to accept the film's surface-level presentation. After the midway point, I found myself thinking that Chiyoko was never pursuing romantic affection. She was pursuing an ideal, and her incessant passion for it kept her young. It's when we abandon our idealistic selves and accept things must be how they are that we truly lose our youthfulness. Hope is dreaming of something better for tomorrow.

It was rewarding to watch a film that married that idea with a love of cinema. Throughout her journey, Chiyoko's "co-star" is Genya Tachibana, a documentarian and former production assistant. Tachibana becomes an audience insert, both literally and figuratively. He begins appearing alongside Chiyoko in her re-enactments in the same way many of us imagine ourselves in the worlds of our favorite films. He appreciates her craft and is a devoted fan (in the most respectful way possible). Tachibana is often reflective of what we're supposed to be feeling during the most dramatic moments of the actress' life and how easy it is to get swept away in a narrative.

Watch it, you fools. This is a film about loving movies, hoping for a better future in the midst of war, shunning gender roles and societal expectations to pursue your dreams, and wholly dedicating yourself to loving something or someone.

Final Verdict: Watch it. I am once again so pissed off at cancer.