I rewatched Paprika not too long ago (within a week’s time period, I believe) and couldn’t get over how visually astounding and beautifully done the opening sequence was animated. It establishes the feel and aesthetic of the film in a mere two minutes, introducing us to the lovely and bubbly Paprika and her physical (?) counterpart Atsuko without saying anything. There’s a playfulness to it all, a characteristic all too appropriate to Paprika’s upbeat nature. There’s also a rather surreal element to it, where Paprika goes in and out of, well, anything: her ephemeral presence is both light and warm, unrestrained by the physics of reality and free to bound from place to place, sky to sky, street to street, and person to person – and all just as seamlessly like a dream. Here’s a video link to the opening scene and some following screenshots to help me describe what director Satoshi Kon does so exceedingly well – which, if anything, is an excellent example of dynamic and creative transitions:
In this cut with Detective Konakawa flipping over Paprika’s business card, there is a warm orange hue that really begins the introduction to Paprika’s character – unique and outgoing, and warm too.
This next cut is a nice transition from the business card to the highway street, where Paprika drives on by on her scooter. Though she is center there is a lot of movement going on here so the framing doesn’t seem stagnant.
This first fluid transition (where Paprika goes from one place/medium/whatever to another) is probably the most unexpected one, since at this point most first time viewers aren’t aware of Paprika’s dream nature. Again there is a prevalent orange color with the rocket ship, as well as a playful wink at hyper-cartooned anime aesthetics.
Here’s a nice little fluid transition of Paprika (literally) blasting off into the night sky…
… and as she flies through the night sky she fluidly transitions again, this time into two advertising billboards (I’m not sure if this is product placement on Kon’s part, as I’m not entirely familiar with Japanese products/beer…)
This is really the first rough-cut transition, where we’re not quite sure how Paprika ends up in the monitor of this (exhausted) employee.
(Notice, too, how Paprika is wearing a white dress quite similar to that of the woman’s attire in the sleeping employees photo, just left of the monitor. A nice little detail I only caught while taking screenshots of the opening sequence!)
As she begins tiptoeing away, Paprika begins to bounce into bigger and bigger strides, leading to this fluid transition below…
I love how Kon depicts Paprika as a bouncing entity, a characteristic that not only emphasizes her playfulness but more importantly the dream nature of her existence, one that so cheerfully bounces around within the colder barriers of reality. Notice, too, how her red-orange shirt contrasts with her blue surroundings, again emphasizing the warmth of her presence.
This is sort of a fluid transition from the office building, where prior to seeing her bounce on the street we saw her bounce her way through the hallways. This is another playful and humorous moment in the opening scene, where in her frustration she simply lifts up her hand..
…snaps her fingers…
… and stops traffic like that!
The effect here, of course, is one of really establishing a sort of surrealism regarding Paprika’s presence in the real world, a presence that is almost God-like in some respects. She simply bounces around carelessly, free of worry or fear of breaking physical or anything that otherwise bars everyone else chained to the physical world. The aesthetic effect is also creative, echoing back to the days of pausing video cassettes (DVD kids be damned!)
Here is the second rough-cut transition in the opening sequence, where we suddenly see Paprika biting into a hamburger. We also see her reflection in the background mirrors, which are a rather important part of this brief (and comedic) scene:
As the two guys hit on her, we see Paprika’s mirror reflections express disgust in different ways to a comedic effect (a cascade of rejections, I must say!) The interesting part is that like the sleeping employee prior, Paprika is interacting with people in the real world; however, the difference here is that two guys are also interacting with her as well, just like a real-life conversation. The multiple mirror reflections reveal multiple dimensions of Paprika, dimensions that otherwise don’t reveal themselves in the real world – a theme that is prevalent throughout the entire film.
This fluid transition here is probably one of the most creative I’ve seen in the entire movie. As Paprika runs out of the eatery to get away from two suitors, she manages to disappear by jumping into a man’s shirt and then jumps out back onto the screen, looking straight at us the viewer. This jumping in and out of frame recurs constantly throughout the rest of the film, too, where in your dream state you can really do anything you want, just like a God – the only limit is the span of your imagination.
(The transition is inventively reminiscent of Cinderella, Paprika style)
This is only shot that doesn’t involve Paprika, establishing the real world at hand and the sunrise encroaching. It leads to the third and last rough-cut transition below…
…where we see Paprika again riding on her scooter on the high way.
We see Paprika get behind a car, and as a car passes by the camera we see that she is now driving the car.
Another car passes by the camera and we see that is now another woman driving. Her hair down and flowing in the air, another car passes by the camera for the final fluid transition…
… and introduces us to Atsuko, her hair now tied up and no longer flowing in the air.
One of the nicest things about this opening sequence is that besides being astoundingly creative, it really utilizes the stretches the potential of animation to its limit: Paprika is a dream avatar, and by such she can really do anything we otherwise wouldn’t even think of in the real world. It also gives us a nice transitional introduction to Atsuko, Paprika’s physical counterpart, and gives us a lot of hints regarding how both characters are similar and drastically different one another.
Paprika is truly one of the most visually astounding films to date, and probably one of the best films regarding dreams as well. It definitely isn’t one of the more accessible films; in fact, I think it’s even more complex than the linearly drive narrative of Inception (if you’re one of the people who said “holy mind f**k” at the end of Nolan’s film, you’ll probably find Paprika absolutely incomprehensible). Regardless, I couldn’t recommend this film enough for anyone, especially for animation enthusiasts and fans of psychological/dream-themed films – and I do hope this opening scene will bump hesitant film fans to take a leap of faith into the magnificent mind of Satoshi Kon.