Perfect Blue

i don’t know whether to be impressed or upset that this hasn’t aged at all. perhaps i’m impressed that its animation still is so beautiful, that its editing seems ingenious even contemporarily; i’m upset that the issue of obsessive fame culture and violent male fantasies are relentlessly relevant.

this is horrifying not because it is graphic, but because it is surreal. everything and nothing is real. whatever grasp on reality we claim to have is so thin, so fragile, so… unimportant? how much can we permit our identities to depend upon someone else recognizing them before it’s too much? is too little too much?

listen none of this makes sense but this f u c k e d me up. i’m exhausted but i don’t know if i can really let this be my last logged film of the year. feels kind of like a bad omen. but like, a brilliant and inspirationally terrifying bad omen. this is the stuff of nightmares, but executed with such a precision that its horror seems transcendent.

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