Cartoons? For Adults? I shit you not.

I am huge anime nerd trash. I hoard memes and watch Dramatical Murder for shits and giggles. All the boy butts, all the time. Horrible vehement trash, slathering fanservice, copious amounts of violence and dat booty or dos tatas.

I watch it all. Except Naruto or One Piece because those shows give me brain cavities.

But. My dear friends. Knowing I am anime trash, there are some movies and television shows you simply cannot miss out on. And there’s a huge problem with Americans thinking all anime is garbage. I watch all types of movies. I am a fan of superhero films. I am all about movies and television shows from all countries, particularly Korean films, anything from India, Turkish cinema, French, German, and so on and so forth.

I am not just a weeb. I’m a film weeb.

In the same way that critics universally panned Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz because of biases, and lauded Captain America: Civil War over X-Men: Apocalypse, people shit on animu. Dissolve your preconceived notions and just enjoy things that are good. You’ll grow out of this desire to appear tasteful at some point. You’ll be missing out on good shit if you don’t. Because you’ll know taste is subjective, yes, but overall some things are simply good because they are good and who it’s made by, or where it’s come from doesn’t matter anymore.

We call this growing up.

You start to care less about what is ‘cool’ and start to care more about what is ‘good’. If you liked Mr. Robot, ANDREW, there’s no way you won’t like the first item on my list.

Good cinema is good cinema, and we’ve got to stop treating things that come out of Japan like hunks of giant wiggling weeaboo fap material.

Some of it is is cloyingly sad, emotionally evocative, and irrepressibly cultured and intellectual. Some of it is diarrhea that appears on the screen and makes my brain-boner shrivel up and run away. It’s my job to help you figure out what to watch.

Intense and gorgeous doesn’t compare to what I need to review today. Here are some of my all-time favorites. No, listicles like ranker are not where you want to be.

You want to be here. With the weird girl who watches gay anime porn.

This is in no particular order. I’m writing this as an affront to my good friend Andrew who fails to see the value in this because he’s racist against good cinema. Therefore it is as stream-as-consciousness as it’s going to get.

Prepare thy anus.



Satoshi Kon, the late and great hero of all surrealists and deep thinkers, died of a brain tumor. I cried for days. Why? Because he’s habitually delivered some of the most fantastic cinema of all time, and even had a television program called Paranoia Agent that sent shivers down my spine. Gore? Check. Violence? Check. A seething sense of dread and hysteria, disturbing material, and vast sets of analysis that undertake the deconstruction of society and social norms? Check, check, check, check.

Daron Aronofsky’s or whatever his name is stole all this shit like a kid in a candy store with no money. The Black Swan to name one, literally gut-ripping out some of the most poignant scenes and even the entire fucking premise of the thing and repackages it for Western audiences. Also Requiem for a Dream. That bathroom scene where drug-girl-whats-her-face screams into the tub? Perfect Blue.

That scene in Black Swan where all the Natalie Portman faces are screaming? Perfect Blue. Black Swan in general? Perfect Blue. In fact, he bought the rights to the fucking movie.

And Satoshi died and I sat there, livid. Although he is clearly a fan of the late-great man’s work; Americans are going to associate hugely important scenes in cinematography with fucking Arrogantoffskin’s movies. Which are good. But nothing compared to what Satoshi delivered.

The man fucking rendered each scene painstakingly with his own goddamned hands. The fuck?

There’s backstory. Now the movie.

Perfect Blue shutters with weeaboo stereotypes, circulating around Mima Kirigoe who is a pop idol trying to break into acting and further her career. Fundamentally it’s a parody and an analysis of Japan’s Idol craze phase and goes so far as to illustrate dissociative identity disorder, anxiety, mental illness, greed, lust and power. There is rape in this. There is violence in this. There is some trippy fucking chase scene with Mima’s overweight manager, suited up like her prodige, chasing her ass around from building tops. Fucking building-tops man.

The film circles around an obsessive stalker who teams up (spoiler alert) with her nasty Manager and Mima’s life begins to unravel as she mistakes reality for her roles. Her Manager, evil-mc-nasty-cunt tries to take over her life, shuffles her between two different locations, and uses stalker-mc-fuckbutt to generally psyche her out.

What follows at the end of the film, a film containing such glorious soundtracks as to send shivers down my spine, and a scene where Mima’s own voice is recorded ad nauseum on a personal website–supposedly written by her (not)–cackling ominously as though someone derped into her life and ripped her out of it (they did) is harrowing. Sorry for the run-on sentence.

Sorry, not sorry.

Mima runs frantically away from this 300 lb hellbeast chasing her with a house augur and then an umbrella. To spear her. Penetrate her physically, her life has already been eviscerated, and symbolically as she was raped at some point (was that just a role? who knows), and steal her very sense of self. The hellbeast looks like Mima, because Mima is literally batshit and probably sleep deprived. Does she even sleep?

Who the fuck knows.

This scene is fucking on-point and it cemented my love for Anime when I was probably 14. This is adult anime. There are boobs. But not hot boobs, not sexy boobs. Boobs that make you anxious and scared, because you sympathize with a girl who is being more or less forced to take porn roles and softcore porn photos to get into acting.

It was probably all a scheme to get Mima to go back to her pop-trio anyways.

This thing decimates popular Japanese culture in a huge way that I can’t even articulate in a goddamn review. The happy singing is not happy. Mima hates it. The stalker is totally an otaku. This came out in 1997 and nothing sets my nerves on end or makes me as scared and as interested as this piece of film does.

It’s gorgeous. It’s deafening.

Moments like this, where we have no idea if Mima Kirigoe really killed this dude, crop up. It happens after her scene in a club where she is supposedly ‘acting’ like she’s getting raped but the dude unzips and says “I’m sorry” and then she gets dead eyes.

She penetrates his ass with a house augur.

I can’t even. I can’t.

I have to do one anime review per post because I am so goddamned long-winded.

Anyways, watch this. Torrent it, but then, buy it. Buy all of it. But all of Satoshi Kon’s things. If you don’t like this movie, I think you are a moron.

Remember that post about stupid people and me saying everyone is smart in their own way?

I lied. If you don’t like this movie, you are an idiot.

Rating: 5 symbolistic disembowelments out of 5


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