Paprika, the latest love-letter to cinema from writer/director Satoshi Kon (Perfect Blue, Tokyo Godfathers), cements his reputation as the most versatile and intelligent auteur in anime today. His take on an anime staple – the devastating effects the intrusion of science has on the natural order – requires multiple viewings, to make sense of a brain-bending plot but also to soak in the exquisite details of a richly rendered deluge of imagery and to play spot-the-allusion (à la Millenium Actress). Kon’s mastery of genre covers the detective story, spy film, oddball romance, pyschological thriller and sci-fi epic, and a heady host of homages range from the traditionally Japanese (Maneki Neko, the Monkey King) to Hollywood (Tarzan, The Greatest Show on Earth).

The DC Mini is a prototype machine that can pick up dreams and store them just like your old VHS recorder, and heralds the next level of psychotherapy, allowing doctors to enter a sleeping patient’s mind. Its capacity for evil is stretched when Drs Tokita and Chiba discover that is has been stolen and its dominion begins to creep into the waking world. It’s up to Dr Chiba’s dream avatar, the perfect and pint-sized Paprika, along with a rather motley band of heroes to rescue two friends left catatonic by a megalomaniacal puppet master, who ultimately threatens the safety of Tokyo.

The pace and tone is foreshadowed by a frenetic opening credits sequence equal parts dance party and music video, where Paprika skilfully wends through mental landscapes, leaping fearlessly in and out of images, turning heads wherever she goes. But the smaller narratives – the fledgling film career of Detective Konakawa, for example – really gather momentum along the way, and culminate in the anime version of a live-action ensemble cast.

The eXistenZial subject matter has been well covered before, especially by compatriot Oshii Mamoru (Avalon, the Ghost in the Shells and Urusei Yatsuras). Kon’s strength is bringing serious psychological and philosophical questions to bear, without intruding on a really fun story. The explosion of butterflies recalls Zhuang Zi’s famous who’s-dreaming-whom dream, while a couple of tense hentai scenes provide enough material for an entire psychology faculty to study. The structure of recurring dreams comments on the human condition: we make sense of the chaos in our irrational lives by repeating and renegotiating the consequences of a few key moments. The fear of technology needs to be balanced with the quest for new knowledge and the relationship between the conscious and subconscious.—Joe Sheppard