Overthinking Anime: Kawaii Culture, Superflat, and the Bomb in Paranoia Agent

It's about the bomb.

It's about the bomb.

[This is the first in what may be a series.  Should I have started with a more well-known anime like Sailor Moon or Dragon Ball or Pokemon?  Maybe.  But I just watched Paranoia Agent, and you should, too.  You can stream the full 13 episode series for free on Veoh.com.  You won’t regret it.]

[Also: this is a SPOILER FREE! article.  Hopefully it’ll make you want to watch the show.]

First, a story…

Back in college, a friend of mine asked me to take a course on modern Japanese literature with her.  Being my snarky self, I said, “Why should I do that?  I already know the answer to all the books.  If I took this class, I guarantee all of the essays would have the same exact thesis:

‘It’s about the bomb.’”

Whether or not I was right about modern Japanese literature, the interesting thing to me is how little this thesis applies to anime and manga.  There’s the odd exception, of course; Grave of the Fireflies jumps to mind, as does Satoshi Kon’s Millennium Actress.  (Grave of the Fireflies is about two children trying to survive through World War II; Millennium Actress is about an aging actress who lived through the war.)

For the most part, though, anime goes out of its way not to mention nuclear weaponry.  Never never never.  The most blatant example is the famed Neon Genesis Evangelion, in which the main characters continually use nukes but never refer to them by name.  No, they’re “N-2 mines!”  Nothing nuclear about ‘em!  Those mushroom clouds over there?  Just a trick of the light!  (In case you don’t believe me about the nuclear weapons taboo in anime, here’s an article about it on TVTropes, appropriately titled “Nuclear Weapons Taboo.”)

So I was shocked by Satoshi Kon’s anime series, Paranoia Agent, for two reasons:

1.    It is clearly about the bomb.

2.    None of the reviews or articles I read about the show acknowledged this fact.

If you’ve never heard of Satoshi Kon before now, put his name in your memory file, because he’s one of Japan’s directors to watch.  His first film, Perfect Blue, catapulted him to fame and glory, giving him free rein to work on even crazier postmodern pieces like Millennium Actress and Paprika.

Critics have lauded Kon for blurring the lines between fantasy and reality in his work, which by the way is always quite beautiful.  But blurring fantasy and reality is nothing new, even in anime.  You only have to watch Neon Genesis Evangelion to know that.  Kon’s work is beautiful, but so is a lot of anime.  Kon’s works are also quite referential; he loves pastiche and parody.  But that’s not new in anime, either.  FLCL, The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, and Excel Saga, ahem, excel at mocking anime conventions through the form of anime.

What’s new about Kon’s work is how modern and sociopolitical it is.  However you define art, Evangelion certainly fits the bill, but it’s more a psychological drama and religious allegory than a critique of modern Japanese society.  While Haruhi Suzumiya is all about undermining common anime tropes, the show seems to be more parody for parody’s sake, not to make any larger statement about the people who enjoy the original product.

Which brings us to Paranoia Agent.  Here’s the story, briefly: An elementary school boy—the Shonen Bat—supposedly has been rollerblading around Tokyo and its suburbs to make hit and run attacks with his baseball bat.  A bunch of people have been hospitalized as a result, and soon people start dying.  Although the anime starts out as a simple mystery (“who is the Shonen Bat?”), it quickly becomes complicated as the audience and the police realize that all of the victims have one thing in common: they feel boxed in and are looking for some way—any way—out, even if it means being bashed over the head with a blunt object.

There’s a lot to pick apart in the show, particularly the fact that the Shonen Bat’s first victim is Tsukiko Sagi, the designer of Maromi, a cute stuffed dog that is clearly meant to be Hello Kitty, Pikachu, Luna from Sailor Moon, and Totoro all rolled into one.

Then Maromi comes to life and starts talking to her.

Then things get weirder.

Not creepy.

Maromi is not creepy.

As a postmodern text, Paranoia Agent begs to be interpreted.  According to the reviews and articles I read, the show is about alienation, personal responsibility, the cult of victimhood, and Japan’s preoccupation with fantasy and cuteness.  This is all true.  Paranoia Agent is clearly about all of these things.  But you know what else it’s about?

It’s about the freaking bomb.

How do I know that?  Well, the show’s opening tipped me off:

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