Imagine the final scene in "Sunset Blvd." - in which an unglued Norma Desmond descends
her staircase convinced that she's filming some sort of melodrama - drawn into an entire
feature, without Joe Gillis to act as interpreter between the audience and Norma's loopy
mind.
This is a good thing, at least for those willing to trade clarity for postmodern depth.
"Blue" delves into a strange psychological milieu befitting the mind of a deranged former
starlet - but serves also as a timely warning and fascinating analysis of a fame-based
culture. Liberal use of mirrors, windows, reflections and on-screen cameras call into question
the "reality" of any given image. When the shots pan out to reveal that a dramatic scene is
just a television shoot, the film's creators subject every subsequent interaction to exposure
as fraud. "Blue" fosters a palpable fear that if celebrities, as flesh-and-blood beings, can be
reduced to publicity stills, publicity stills can come alive with mortal consequences.
(Britney Spears, take note).
Just as the film blurs the line between sanity and insanity, it also remains cryptic about
who is the victim. Mima's ostensible health at the end, implied by a cursory gaze at the final
scene, would play disappointingly into iconic Hollywood feel goodness, saving its pretty young
heroine at the expense of her older, overweight agent. But the too-chipper farewell, in which
Mima peers into her rearview mirror and says, "Yep, it's really me" begs the question 'who is
she talking to?' If it's the audience, Mima is inherently still wrapped in the layers of
voyeurism and vanity that permeate the movie, and therefore, is indelibly gutted of her
identity.
But whether it is naïve Mima, her antisocial stalker or Rumi (herself a former idol singer)
who suffers, the thriller blatantly indicts a culture that packages its icons in boxes and
glorifies them on pedestals, slowly smothering the humanity behind the fame. Yeah, turns out it's
not just America that does that.
"Blue" relies too much on symbolism (fish floating belly-up and other in-your-face foreshadowing),
but Hideki Hamazu, Satoshi Kon and Hisahsi Eguchi's unusually realistic character designs serve
"Blue's" themes well, creating a kind of meta-animation effect. Mima, rendered with heightened realism,
strolling past a billboard featuring a big-eyed, pink-haired anime girl is a jarring juxtaposition -
Mima has been drawn (physically by "Blue's" art team), but she can't be reduced to a cartoon.
The film is far from perfect, but its Hitchcock-meets-Jean Beaudrillard tone makes for a deep "Blue."