FILM TV ANIMATION ANIME MANGA COMICS GAMES LITERATURE ARTS SatoshiWRITING Kon’s Otaku: The Dangers of Technological Search Articles Login Sign Up Fantasy The word “otaku” has defined how we think about the fan, at least here in the United States. However, this term is not always used to endearing; it carries a much different connotation in Japan, where the word originates from. To American otaku, to be called an otaku can be seen a badge of pride; it shows dedication and love for an anime or manga. In Japan, however, it is anything but positive. Literally, the word translates to “house” but colloquially, it means a person so dedicated to an anime or manga that they won’t leave their home. According to author Patrick W. Gailbraith, “There is significant discord between the otaku imagined along with booming anime consumption in Japan and abroad and the otaku image born of decades of negative press and social anxiety” (226). An image of Tsutomu Miyazaki’s room, the first person said to give otaku a bad name. Critically-acclaimed director Satoshi Kon especially touches upon this cultural topic of otaku in his animated films. Kon has said, “In Japan not just children but adults in their 20s and 30s will choose anime and manga as a means of escape from their real lives. But I think there is a danger too. If you go into that world, it is very vivid and colorful and seductive, but there are big traps within that, particularly if you let your real world deteriorate as a result” (Kehr, 20). But the otaku in his films aren’t always fixated on anime or manga; they are obsessive fans of anything from pop stars and actresses to even pieces of technology. According to Kerin Ogg, “Virtually no hobby or area of interest apart from film going seems to get Kon’s implied stamp of approval” (161). Particularly, Kon associates his otaku characters with technology, which aids them in their obsessive tendencies and offers them a way to further themselves from a reality they do not wish to face. This technology can be anything from computers to video cameras. Satoshi Kon represents the otaku as a negative presence that becomes even more malicious, sometimes to the point of violence, when paired with technology. This idea is exemplified particularly in his works Perfect Blue, Paranoia Agent, and Paprika, with the exception of his film Millennium Actress, which represents what Kon sees as the perfect balance between fans and their use of technology. Before addressing the films, it is important to analyze the overall aesthetic Kon creates for the otaku character. In all of the aforementioned films, the otaku character is not physically attractive, being either overweight, socially withdrawn, or both. An example would be Mima’s stalker in Perfect Blue, Me-Mania. He is described as “dead-faced and almost monstrous-looking” (Ortabasi, 283) as well as socially alienated, “painfully shy and socially inept” (Ortabasi, 283). He is not the only example in Kon’s films; there is Genya Tachibana in Millennium Actress, Kamei Masashi in Paranoia Agent, and Kosaku Tokita and Kei Himuro in Paprika. All of these characters are portrayed as overweight and socially withdrawn characters with their first priority being their particular hobby or object of interest. However, the image of the otaku does not just stop with physical characteristics; it extends to the living or working space. Me-Mania from Kon’s Perfect Blue In all of Kon’s films, his otaku characters have extremely cluttered and dark living spaces with a flickering computer or television screen as the centerpiece that offers the most light. This image is well-known in Japan, as it is similar to photos of the room of Tsutomu Miyazaki, the first person to create a bad name for otaku when he murdered four young girls in the 1980s; many blame his obsession with anime and manga for these brutal 1980s; many blame his obsession with anime and manga for these brutal crimes. The image of this room is one that is generally full of stacks of clutter, usually anime, manga, and pornography. In Japan, it is easy for things to stack up due to the small amount of space in Japanese housing. However, the stacks in the home of otaku are not just stacks of everyday items, but stacks full of his or her specific hobby. According to Ortabasi, these images immediately make audiences aware of “a man who lets his hobbies stand in the way of human relationships.” Perfect Blue In Perfect Blue, Me-Mania’s apartment is packed full of images and posters of Cham and Mima. Masashi of Paranoia Agent is surrounded by the female dolls he loves so much; Tokita’s office in Paprika is cluttered, full of tools and plans to create new and better technologies; His office assistant, Hirumo’s, apartment is very similar to Tokita’s: full of cluttered shelves of pornography and anime as well as tools to create dolls he is known to love; Even in Millennium Actress, the film with a more positive otaku representation, Tachibana’s office is covered in scripts and videotapes stacked to the ceiling with his video monitors offering the only light. These images automatically define these characters as otaku before they even open their mouths. A prime example of the relationship between fan and technology is Kon’s first, and most graphic, film Perfect Blue. The film addresses two levels of fan obsession, both of which are aided and magnified by technology. The first is the level of “the image of the fan community [as] a group of male nerds committed to the fantasy image of cute, young, and [high-spirited] girl nerds committed to the fantasy image of cute, young, and [high-spirited] girl singers” (Norris, 77). This is addressed particularly in film’s opening scenes as “male young men, who are bespectacled, too fat, or too thin… waiting nervously, cameras in hand” (Norris, 77) for the pop group, Cham, to come on stage. In particular, there are three nameless older males who throughout the film constantly scrutinize Mima, lead singer of Cham, as she has decided to branch out and become an actress. As the girls come onstage to perform, they are met not only by their male fans, but also the fans’ cameras. These cameras act as tools to strengthen the male gaze of these otaku who want to capture this image of Cham forever. The idea of the camera plays a huge role throughout the film, especially as Mima begins to get in front of one for her budding acting career. In particular, she participates in a television scene where multiple men act out raping her character on the show, a stripper whose audience becomes too rowdy. This scene marks a drastic change from her image of an innocent pop singer, which is what she wants; she no longer wants to be seen as an innocent girl. Instead, she wants to be taken seriously as an actress. The camera, operated by all men, captures this moment of extreme vulnerability that is distributed among her male fans through the extremely public medium of television. The camera empowers her male fans throughout the film, giving them indirect power over her as their opinions make her feel vulnerable to their gaze. Throughout the film, Mima worries about the opinions of her fans, hoping they will love her and follow her career no matter what she decides to do. they will love her and follow her career no matter what she decides to do. Their opinions about Mima’s move to acting is reflected by the group of three unnamed otaku who discuss her career’s transition. While she is not directly told these critiques and judgments, she is constantly susceptible to their thoughts and opinions. But the more malicious representation of the fan in this film is Me-Mania, Mima’s “number one fan” and stalker; he wants her to abandon all desires to become an actress and return to Cham. His obsession is not Mima herself, but an idealized fantasy of Mima who is forever a pop singer. His obsessive and destructive behaviors are amplified with his use of the Internet, which he uses to break down Mima’s mental state in attempts to get her to rejoin Cham. At the time this film was released in 1997, the Internet was a relatively new idea. In the film, Mima does not know what a webpage is, particularly when a fan yells to her, “I’m always looking in Mima’s Room.” Upon further investigation, she discovers that Me-Mania has established a webpage called “Mima’s Room,” where her every move each day is documented as if she has written it herself. This evolves from the innocent ravings of a fan to “the intrusion of the stranger’s gaze into the private realm of Mima’s real-life apartment” (Gardner, 56). The power of the Internet gives power to the otaku character Me-Mania to “enact an imaginary usurpation where he has mastery over and possession of Mima and can rewrite her life, according to his fantasies” (Norris, 78). In an interview with Kon, he comments on viewing Mima in her private space and how “we also shot Mima’s room as if it was being viewed on a TV screen. This is because we wanted to give a diluted sense of reality, as if all of the events were taking place within a TV screen of some kind” (Kon, 1998). Kon creates a private space that is no longer private; people are 1998).