I'd never heard of Perfect Blue until I read about it on, of all things, a list of '90s horror films.
I've never been an in-deep anime fan, sticking to the Ghiblis and the Cardcaptor Sakuras and the Sailor Moons, but last year my professor showed Whisper of the Heart in our creative writing class (I hadn't seen it before) and I just garnered this sudden deep appreciation for it. I haven't branched out, still. (Sorry, Cheska!) But I've definitely become less likely to write anime off from the start. I love the fantasy and sci-fi ones as much as the next person, but I find that I'm most amazed by the titles that are more realistic, like She and Her Cat: Everything Flows, because of what the creators can do with such apparent simplicity.
Anyway, the list I read had described Perfect Blue as a mind-screwy thriller that was the inspiration for Black Swan. It's about a former pop idol, who leaves her girl group behind, hoping to be taken more seriously as an actor. She gets cast in an intense murder mystery series that pushes her beyond her comfort zone—to, you guessed it, dire results. Soon the lines between reality and illusion are horrifyingly blurred. The tight jump cuts and sequences that are equal parts dreamy and nightmarish (as only the Japanese can manage) will stay with you and leave you mulling over them long after the film is over.
It's so unique in its concept, and so haunting. Plus, it's meta and firmly rooted in true-to-life situations, which might just be the scariest part of all. I'm still trying to process.
Perfect Blue tells of a descent into madness, punctuated by paranoia, the loss of identity, obsession, and fan culture. But more than that, it's about loneliness.
And obviously, I identified with that.
(Don't let these screen caps fool you, by the way—the film has its fair share of creepy get-me-brain-bleach visuals.)
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