I am usually, at best, ambivalent about anime. While I recognize and appreciate the craftsmanship, I find myself losing interest in the stories. The story for Paprika is so convoluted that I am unable to relay it in such a way that it would make sense. It is sufficient to say that the plot revolves around a machine called the DC Mini, which enables people to see and even be in other peoples’ dreams. The DC Mini has been stolen by a former colleague of the scientists who created the machine.

But what makes Paprika worth seeing is that animator Satoshi Kon fully takes advantage of what makes animated films unique. The film is ultimately a dream about movies, as well as a movie about dreams. The way characters jump in and out of settings first made me think of Buster Keaton’s Sherlock Jr., perhaps the original virtual reality movie. One can also easily link Paprika to such films as David Cronenberg’s eXistenZ. In another moment that may be a nod to Cronenberg, two of the characters jump into a television screen. Because this is a truly animated film, Kon creates a universe where a long office hallway and walls suddenly undulate with the solidity of a half-filled waterbed, characters in advertisements leap out into other billboards or out into the streets, and giant toy dolls threaten the planet.

It is the dense and detailed imagery that makes Paprika stand out. Frames are crowded with giant marching frogs, large appliances and living dolls. The goofy spirit of the film is close to the self-refererential work of the Fleischer Brothers’ earlier work from the 1930s with Koko the Clown and Betty Boop. The story loops around itself, with dreams and dreams within dreams.

Paprika, the character, dreams of a street where there are old fashion movie theaters, one of which shows Roman Holiday. Kon even has a character going to a multiplex that is showing nothing but Kon’s previous features on each of the screens. Movies have informed Kon’s films, so that Perfect Blue is an anime thriller that has reminders of Hitchcock, De Palma and Argento. Tokyo Godfathers, with both its plot about an abandoned baby and Christmas setting could well have been inspired by John Ford’s Three Godfathers.

At a time when animated films regularly play at the multiplexes, Paprika is a reminder of how creative an art form this can be. The “R” rating is, to my mind a bit harsh, and I would recommend this film to older teenagers who are seriously interested in seeing how animation can be used for something other than the misadventures of talking animals. If Paprika is not nominated for the Best Animated Film of 2007, chalk it up to professional jealousy. This is a film to be admired on the big screen, and studied for its details when it comes out on DVD.