Self-Erasure and Existence in Serial Experiments Lain and Metropolis

The two films that I shall be exploring in this paper are Ryutaro Nakamura's Serial Experiments Lain and Rintaro's Metropolis. Lain follows the story of a young girl named Lain who is in junior high and starts experiencing increasingly strange events. She meets "alter egos" of herself, and as she becomes more and more enmeshed in the world of the Wired, which is an imitation of the Internet, she starts questioning her own identity and existence. As people start dying around her, she attempts to find out who is behind these events, while at the same time the boundaries between reality and the Wired are falling apart. In her search, she meets the 'God' of the Wired, who, as it is later revealed, tries to convince people to give up their physical bodies and so transcend their earthly lives to exist in the Wired. After Lain destroys the God in a final confrontation, she is able to reverse the strange events that have been happening since the start of the series in a sort of "All Reset." By erasing memories of herself from everyone else's memories, she ceases to exist to them and to herself.

Metropolis on the other hand is set in the future, where robots are constantly present as servants, or more precisely slaves, of humans, and are kept strictly in their place. Tima, created as a super-robot for the purpose of sitting upon the throne of the Ziggurat,[1] meets Kenichi, the nephew of the detective from Japan who was sent to capture the mad scientist that had created Tima. Rock, Duke Red's[2] sort-of-adoptive son and leader of the Malduks,[3] attempts to kill Tima out of both jealousy for his semi-affectionate regard for her[4] and prejudice against robots.[5] Nonetheless, Tima is able to escape his attempts with the help of Kenichi, though Tima eventually ends up in the Duke's grasp. In the final scenes, Tima loses her memories as her "robotic side" takes over, and seemingly fulfills her purpose by sitting upon the Ziggurat. However, she proclaims an apocalypse to punish the humans for their mistreatment of the robots. Kenichi is able to pull her from the throne and save her from completely merging with the throne. Seeming to have lost her memories, Tima attacks Kenichi. As the city crumbles around them, Tima regains her memories towards the end of the anime and unfortunately falls to her death from the great height of the Ziggurat to the ground below. Metropolis ends with Kenichi deciding to stay in Metropolis rather than go home with his uncle in the hopes of helping to rebuild Metropolis and create a better future, where presumably humans and robots can coexist.

Serial Experiments Lain and Metropolis are both very different, in subject matter as well as style. However, I feel that the importance of memory with identity and self present in both works are of interest, and I would like to explore the characters of Tima and Lain in particular. I intend to explore the concept of self or subjectivity and what that means when that self is erased in the figures of Tima and Lain. I claim that, despite their self-erasure, there exists identity within that erasure, rather than a lack of a self. Their self-erasure results in questions of identity and existence for these characters, and I shall attempt to prove that a new self is created, allowing for existence within erasure. Defining subjectivity in Lain and Tima however is problematic, given that one is possibly a computer program and the other a robot, therefore I believe that it is necessary to first define the self that is being erased.

In Lain, the series leaves the question of whether Lain is a computer program or not unanswered. One theory, according to The God of the Wired, is that Lain is a computer program, designed to break down the barriers between reality and the Wired, and that her physical body is one that he has given her. This theory would allow us to reconcile her apparent agelessness in the last episode.[6] The other theory would be that she has given up her body to "live on" in the Wired. Although this question cannot be definitely resolved, nonetheless in either case Lain has a self, the real-world self, one that exists or existed in what the anime presents as the real world. At this point I would like to mention that there are three Lains, her "alter egos", that make up Lain but cause problems in defining who Lain really is. This is a question that Lain, the real-world Lain, struggles with, as she is unable to connect who she thinks she is and what she knows and experiences as her existence, with the actions and character of Wired Lain that she only hears about through a second-hand source.


(Figure 1)

This image, taken from the artbook for Lain, is an attempt by the artists to differentiate between the three Lains. Their names are written differently[7] and as the image shows, there are certain expressions, postures, as well as speech characteristics unique to each Lain.

While these Lains present another problem in defining Lain's selfhood, the point is moot when in the end all of Lain is erased. However, although the different Lains are distinct, there is a merging of the Lains, at least of Wired & real-world Lain, that is shown by contrasting the behavior of Lain in episode two, "Girls", and episode seven, "Society". In "Girls", she has just received her Navi, which is basically a computer, but she is still shy and withdrawn, "unconnected".[8] Some of her classmates take her along to a club called Cyberia, but she does not know how to dress for the occasion and has clearly not been to a club before, a fact that a couple of them tease her about: "You're usually in bed now, aren't you, Lain?" says one, followed by, "Lain, don't you have anything better to wear at night?" This is also the first instance in which we hear about Wired Lain. As the anime progresses, real-world Lain seems to be incorporating Wired Lain, showing a merging as she becomes more confident and dresses a little differently. This merging culminates in "Society" in which there is a scene where Wired Lain sort of "takes over" real-world Lain's body.[9] The immediate contrast between real-world Lain and Wired Lain is shown clearly, as well as the struggle with identity that Lain faces.

During the series she increasingly questions who she is, and tries to reconcile her own memories, experiences, and who she thinks she is with her alter-egos. The climax of this struggle is shown in episode eight, "Rumors", in which all three Lains make an appearance following a certain rumor about Alice that Lain apparently spread on the Wired.[10] In these scenes, real-world Lain is shown buried under wires and cables, crying and helpless, while Wired Lain confronts Lain of the Rumor. "Who are you? You're not me. I'd never do what you do," Wired Lain says to her, as Rumor Lain laughs continuously. "Stop it! Why are you acting like the part of me that I hate? You--" With Wired Lain's hands wrapped around her throat, Rumor Lain laughingly cuts her off saying, "I'm committing suicide!" and continues, greatly amused, "Hey, I'm Lain, aren't I?" Both Wired and real-world Lain emphatically deny this, however that is not to say Rumor Lain is not a part of Lain.

This struggle in identity is resolved in a way in the end, though rather bittersweetly when Lain must erase memories of herself, and therefore her existence, from other's memories. "When you don't remember something, it never happened... If you aren't remembered, you never existed,"[11] says Alice, repeating Lain's words. Without the recognition of others, Lain ceases to exist in the real world. The disconnect in identities that Lain experiences is addressed by Scott Bukatman in Terminal Identity: the virtual subject in postmodern identity, in which he says,

The newly proliferating electronic technologies of the Information Age are invisible, circulating outside of the human experiences of space and time. That invisibility makes them less susceptible to representation and thus comprehension at the same time as the technological contours of existence become more difficult to ignore...There has arisen a cultural crisis of visibility and control over a new electronically defined reality. It has become increasingly difficult to separate the human from the technological...as electronic technology seems to rise, unbidden, to pose a set of crucial ontological questions regarding the status and power of the human...the Information Age, an era in which, as Jean Baudrillard observed, the subject has become a "terminal of multiple networks." This new subjectivity is at the center of Terminal Identity. (Bukatman 2)

Bukatman argues against the idea that cyberspace is a null space, and instead is a narrative space, a site of action and circulation that sets up for a new identity. This new identity is termed "Terminal identity: an unmistakably doubled articulation in which we find both the end of the subject and a new subjectivity constructed at the computer station or television screen" (9). It is this terminal identity that is created in Lain's self-erasure. I also argue that it is this terminal identity that is created, and exists, within the Wired that is more wholly Lain, and where she is able to resolve her struggle in identity, or at the very least comes to terms with her self-erasure and ceasing to exist. In the real world, the life that Lain leads is monotonous, and the world that she lives in is routine and life-less. As Susan Napier notes, "Increasingly in Japanese culture, the real has become something to be played with, questioned, and ultimately mistrusted" (421). She goes on to analyze Lain in its ability to portray the "fundamental concerns at the turn of the twenty-first century, most notably our sense of a disconnect between body and subjectivity thanks to the omnipresent power of electronic media" (Napier 431), and calls Lain a representation of the world of the Wired/Internet where reality and truth are constantly questioned (431).


(Figure 2: The same series of montages (like the one shown above) are shown in the beginning of every episode.)


(Figure 3: The above images are, left to right, from episode 1 and episode 2.)

Repetitive scenes and montages like the above screenshots signal Lain's life as lacking in some way. She is not completely free to be who she is as her different personas are segregated and it is not until the end with her self-erasure that she exists wholly in the Wired. In a way then, the cyber world has surpassed the real world.

Bukatman also mentions that vision is a "means for being absent from [oneself]", according to Merleau-Ponty, and allows through simultaneous projection and introjection the presence of self. Vision itself "is not a mode of thought or presence of self", but it allows for it (Bukatman 136). Despite Lain's self-erasure, she is able to appear in the real world and visit a grown-up Alice, who is able to see her and acknowledges her presence, though she does not remember who she is, only that Lain looks familiar. Evidence of traces of Lain that are left behind, in that sort of déjà-vu moment, are encouraging and allow for an affirmation of self for Lain according to Bukatman.

While Lain presented questions of identity in a human figure, the figure of Tima in Metropolis is presented from the start as robot. Despite this, she is made human from the very start of her existence; it is from her "birth" [12], where her first encounter with another being is Kenichi, that she starts her existence as human. I shall argue that Tima has essentially two identities: the human Tima given to her by Kenichi, and the robot Tima that is her design, what she is made for and to be. I find the character of Tima interesting in her divide between human and robot. She is made in completely artificial ways, with completely artificial organs and body parts,[13] yet, she claims, or at least wants, to be human and that she has human emotions, can love like a human and therefore she is not a robot.[14] Her attempt to reconcile her robot and human self is an interesting struggle that ultimately ends in tragedy; however, the question I ask then is whether Tima has created subjectivity for herself between the two given identities, when her human self is erased along with her memories in the final scene[15]. First however, I shall examine her claims of humanity.

Since her "birth" into the world, her focus has been Kenichi. He is her first contact with another being, and so she sort of "imprints" upon him, and follows him around, imitating him. Their first dialogue is evident of this. Kenichi attempts to find out who Tima is, and after a few attempts in which Tima simply repeats what he says, he moves on. "Who are you?" Kenichi asks. "'I' am who?" Kenichi enunciates for Tima, and, interrupting him, Tima says, "You are I." "No, no, no...you call yourself 'I'," Kenichi corrects. "'I' am who?" Tima asks again, a question that she repeats at the end of her life. This repetition of the identity question, a question that continues to be unanswered through the end of the anime, suggests she has never found the answer, and perhaps, neither will we.


(Figure 4: Her conversation with Kenichi at the beginning of the film.)


(Figure 5: At the end of the film, when her body is broken and in pieces, all that's left of her is the ghost of her consciousness in the form of her recorded voice.)


(Figure 6)


(Figure 7)

Her preoccupation with Kenichi can be a little creepy, and shows that Kenichi is her world. She only cares about Kenichi, is constantly asking after him when she is separated from him and taken by Duke Red, and even the clothes she wears are picked by Kenichi, her appearance is shaped by Kenichi, and finally, he is the one that I would argue gives Tima her humanity.


(Figure 8: When she first meets Kenichi. He hands her his coat.)


(Figure 9: Kenichi gets her clothes)


(Figure 10: Tima seeks Kenichi's approval)

Duke Red also bestows an identity upon Tima, one that is an amalgam of robot and human. Tima is an imitation of his dead daughter, but also designed to be a deity, one meant to sit on the throne of the Ziggurat and rule the world. Despite her robotic body, Tima acts as a child would, and grows as a child would, albeit rapidly, and develops into something more adult-like as she learns to read and write, and is able to speak by herself outside of simple imitation. Undoubtedly she is still child-like through the end, but her development cannot be denied. In this development is a similarity to how humans develop. Tima might have been "born" physically developed into the world, but mentally she develops through the course of the movie as a human child would, placing her outside the category of her fellow robots into a limbo between robot and human. Her humanity, it can be said, is in her questioning of who she is.

However, two things complicate this assertion. One is the literal formation of Tima's identity by Kenichi. The words "You are I" that Tima says are innocent, but at the same time resonate with Tima's behavior and her obsession with Kenichi, and it is Kenichi that shapes her He is also the one to assert her humanity.[16] With the influence that Kenichi has over Tima, it is difficult then to see Tima as a separate entity, when so much of the "human" Tima is made up of Kenichi. The second complication is that although she might assert that she is human instead of robot, she succumbs to her design at the end of the film and sits upon the throne, becoming the "super-being" Duke Red has had her created to be. In the final scenes between Kenichi and Tima, she acts as robot, attacking Kenichi as if she does not know him, and treats him as a vengeful robot towards a human.


(Figure 11)

However, the divide between human and robot remains, made literal in the careful split of Tima's face, half robotic and half human. Despite her turning into the "super-being" she was created to be, she surpasses what Duke Red meant for her to be, in becoming judge and God, deeming humanity unfit to live beside robots. Her self-erasure comes as a wipe of memory, the loss of the Tima that is arguably "human" and recognizes Kenichi, and as destructive as her self-erasure is, Tima has created for herself a new self, one complicated by both her erasure of self and lack of control over what she is doing,[17] and her subversion of the Duke's designs for her. In the end however, the two sides of her, robot and human, seem to be presented as incompatible when, she asks, "Who am I?" looking up at Kenichi as he urges her to hold his hand, trying to pull her up and save her.


(Figure 12: It is her robot hand that he is gripping, and unable to reconcile her robot and human self, she is unable to grip his hand back and save herself.)

Even though Tima perishes in the end, her consciousness transcends her physical being[18] as Lain's does, shown in the way Tima's voice still lingers like a ghost in the radio. Her memory lives on, she is not forgotten and, she is the impetus to Kenichi staying in Metropolis, giving him a reason to try to build a better future where robots and humans can coexist.

In examining subjectivity in both Lain and Tima, I found Sharalyn Orbaugh's article, "Sex and the Single Cyborg" of interest, despite the fact that neither Lain nor Tima are cyborgs. Cyborgs as Orbaugh defines them are, "that embodied amalgam of the organic and the technological—confounds the modernist criteria for subjectivity” (436). She explains her particular interest in cyborgs because of the complication in subjectivity that they present, as part machine and part human. She also discusses the fear present with the figure of the cyborg, a fear of the overtaking of the individual subject by the machine, and the complete abandonment of the organic body to advance to the next level of evolution. In my reading of her article, there is an assumption in her arguments, which is that there is a problem of subjectivity in cyborgs because of the mix of organic and machine. She implies that the organic is necessary in order to consider subjectivity, and the machine encroaches/problematizes that subjectivity. She does say however that ,“Cyborgs, which are by definition not naturally occurring, serve in a new but equally significant way to mark the borders of modern(ist) subjectivity and simultaneously to reveal the ways those borders are breaking down and being redrawn in postmodern, posthuman paradigms” (439). While cyborgs do present a new sort of subjectivity, they still problematize subjectivity according to Orbaugh. However, I argue that it is not necessary to have a physical/organic body in order to have subjectivity, proven in the characters of Lain and Tima.

Regarding the problem of memory loss with Tima and Lain, Frederic Jameson in Postmodernism, or the Logic of Late Capitalism[19] seems to suggest a possible rethinking of self-erasure and the resulting loss of existence (16). In dealing with subjectivity, Jameson presents a loss-of-self view that at the same time still recognizes the existence of the feelings that make up the self, but are not connected to the self (Frederic 15). He proposes a different sort of existence, a "mere existence" that does not carry purpose, rather than a complete loss of existence. While this somewhat agrees with my idea that the consciousnesses of both Lain and Tima are still present post-self-erasure, I cannot agree with his assumption that the lack of feelings or apathy is what characterizes self or subjectivity, and consequently that there must be a presence of feelings in order to obtain subjectivity. Instead, I believe that apathy can characterize subjectivity just as well as what Jameson counts as "true" feelings.[20]

In constructing a self within self-erasure, the characters of Tima and Lain, despite the resistance to losing the self in Lain or the confusion of existence for Tima, nonetheless are able to create some sort of existence for themselves that transcend their physical bodies and are affirmed by the other characters in a way, regardless of deaths or loss of memory. I conclude that there cannot be a complete loss of existence then since this is the case, and despite the erasure of self, the erasure of existence, there can be a creation of existence within that erasure. While we are not robots nor do we have the ability to erase memories, the questions of identity Lain and Tima are subjected to allows us to rethink our own ideas of self and subjectivity, and how our existence is situated and defined, whether it's on the "Wired" or elsewhere.


NOTES

1. The only information given in the anime about the Ziggurat is that it is the pinnacle of human technology, and that whoever sits upon it will rule the world, though how this is and whether the public is aware of the Ziggurat's power and purpose is unknown. However, I find it curious that despite the celebrations of the completion of the Ziggurat the anime opens with, it seems that no one asks questions about it or what Duke Red plans on doing with it. In fact, for the majority of the anime the Ziggurat is out of the picture despite its capabilities.

2. The de facto leader of Metropolis in the sense that he is popular with the people and holds power and influence. Boone however is the President, who is later usurped and betrayed by his own military by Duke Red's hand

3. The Malduks are portrayed as Duke Red's personal military group led by Rock, though they also act as vigilantes in policing the robots.

4. Tima is made in the image of Duke Red's dead daughter.

5. Rock believes that it is Duke Red who should sit upon the Ziggurat, not Tima, a robot.

6. She appears to a grown-up Alice looking the same as when they went to school together, after she has wiped the memories of herself from everyone's memories.

7. From left to right: kanji (Chinese-based characters) for the real-world Lain, katakana (characters typically used to phonetically spell out foreign words or non-Japanese names) for Wired Lain, and English for Lain of the Rumor. I would like to note here that it is interesting the artists decided to use English instead of hiragana (phonetic characters used for Japanese words, but also to spell out kanji) for example (Japanese writing system consists of kanji, katakana and hiragana).

8. Here I refer to what Lain's father says in episode one, "Weird", to Lain after she asks him for a new Navi: "I keep telling you that you should use a better machine. You know, Lain, in this world, whether it's here in the real world or in the Wired, people connect to each other, and that's how societies function."

9. In an important plot development in which men from Tachibana Laboratories speak to her about the situation of reality and the Wired merging, Lain is asked questions about who she is, whether she knows her parents' birthdays, etc.--questions designed to make her question her own existence. Lain is unable to answer these questions and is visibly shaken, having a bit of a mental breakdown when suddenly Wired Lain takes over, and acts completely opposite, uncaring and unimpressed.

10. Alice, the person Lain is closest to, has a crush on a teacher, and Lain, or more specifically Lain of the Rumor, reveals this secret to everyone through the Wired.

11. Episode 13, "Ego".

12. Refers to the scene where the laboratory in which she is made is burning down after Rock sabotages it, and she stumbles out, naked and out into the world for the first time.

13. Refers to the scene between Duke Red and Dr. Laughton in which Red goes to Laughton's lab to check on his progress with Tima and asks if she was made with real organs. If Laughton is to be believed, and for the purpose of this paper I do as I see no reason he would lie (Being that constructing Tima itself is illegal, and he also follows with, "Real organs are quicker, but they don't last as long"), then Tima is completely artificial.

14. Refers to the conversation between Duke Red and Tima at the top of the Ziggurat, after the truth of her robotic body is revealed. While it might seem like Tima does not know that she is a robot, I argue that she does not accept her being a robot for the reasons stated.

15. Reacting to the call of the Ziggurat, her design/robotic self is "activated".

16. Tima does not assert her own humanity at the beginning; it is Kenichi that assumes she has simply lost her memories, and that she'll regain them soon, of her family and her name--details that make up a human's life and starts to construct for her her humanity.

17. She was built to sit on the Ziggurat and so it is not really by choice that she does so since the human Tima is gone at that point.

18. This brilliant observation/idea was kindly contributed by a fellow peer, and was a great help in moving past the pessimistic end of Tima to a new way of thinking about her death, for which I am very grateful.

19. Jameson presents postmodernism as a waning of affect, where the problems of modernism, that of alienation and anomie, are no longer applicable, arguing that there is no self to cut ties from, due to the depthlessness and fragmentation of self. There is no complete whole subject, which modernism assumes in its discussion of alienation from self, and instead offers two-dimensionality, a loss of a center, and rather than no affect, there are "free-floating and impersonal" feelings.

20. I use Michel Gondry's film "Interior Design" in which a young lady transforms into a chair in order to live her life the way she wants, and not necessarily conforming to people's expectations of her as well as what and how her dreams and ambitions should be realized. Here, the individual is still there, but perhaps not recognizable in the traditional sense.


BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bukatman, Scott. Terminal Identity: The Virtual Subject in Postmodern Science Fiction. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1993. Print.

Jameson, Fredric. Postmodernism, or, the Logic of Late Capitalism. (1990): 6-16. Print.

Napier, Susan J. “When the Machines Stop: Fantasy, Reality, and Terminal Identity in ‘Neon Genesis Evangelion’ and ‘Serial Experiments Lain’.” Science Fiction Studies 29.3 (2002): 418-435. Print.

Orbaugh, Sharalyn. “Sex and the Single Cyborg: Japanese Popular Culture Experiments in Subjectivity.” Science Fiction Studies 29.3 (2002): 436-452. Print.

"Interior Design" segment in Tokyo. Dir. Michel Gondry. Perf. Ayako Fujitani, Ryo Kase, Ayumi Ito, Nao Ohmori, and Satoshi Tsumabuki. 2008. Film.

Metropolis. Dir. Rintaro. Madhouse, 2001. Film.

Serial Experiments Lain. Dir. Ryutaro Nakamura. Triangle Staff, 1998. TV.

Classification of Normality due to Cultural and Ethnic Stratification

Human beings and robots maintain the colossal and futuristic city of Metropolis; however, many of the human workers have been displaced by the hordes of robots, resulting in great unrest. Economic, cultural and ethnic stratification are reflected in the four distinct zones: zero being ground level and zones one through three representing the underground, the Metropolis power plant, and the sewage-handling facility. All robots that fail to adhere to its programming and or zone are immediately destroyed. Class lines amongst robots as well as human beings are distinguished where only authorities and officials are permitted to pass through the four designated zones. While the unemployed and poor in the underground slums plan a revolution that will put an end to class stratification, the omnipotent leader Duke Red hopes to ultimately rule all of the world with Dr. Laughton’s remarkable android and super computer, Tima. Themes of love, loss, and revolution are vividly portrayed across the different layers and sub-layers of Metropolis.

Across the four separate zones in Metropolis, each group of human beings and robots is associated with its given responsibility and zone. Whether one resides at ground level or underground, his/her or its ability to function normally is restricted to what is most appropriate to that zone. Signs of cultural and ethnic display are strictly represented in underground world, also known as Zone 1. With careful note to detail in various scenes shot in Zone 1, the presence and wide array of ethnic food vendors are seen only in the underground portions of Metropolis. The signs over restaurants and retail stores are displayed in different languages but again, only in the underground zones. Because cultural and ethnic representation are considered normal and associated strictly to Zone 1, its line of normality is distinguished and separated from the zones above. Thus to say that one zone is any more normal than another zone is difficult, mostly because all aspects of normality are merely in one’s perspective.

Often times, the elite and influential leaders who have access to wealth and power determine what counts as normal in the film. The result of this set-up normality that goes across the different layers in the city of Metropolis is as mentioned before, nothing but a means of social stratification that separates not only humans and robots, but also humans from humans and or robots from robots. The underlying values that motivate Metropolis to pick out the most normal features are demonstrated in the upper well-lit and fast-paced district. In addition to the city’s vibrant color, its overall appearance is orderly and well put together. Everyone in the upper district seems to be hustling and bustling about regardless of whether or not they may have somewhere to go. The money and time that has gone into constructing such a grandiose public scene attribute to what the elitist class and its leaders would then vastly associate as normal. Given the public and private spaces and the socially stratified layers depicted throughout various scenes in director Rintaro’s Metropolis, a lot can be learned regarding one’s limited perception of normality. These limitations are the result of a lifestyle and zone he/she or it was born and raised in and what he/she or it is most familiar with. Beyond this limited outline of what is normal, who really enforces, gains or challenges the perception of normality? In the end Rintaro shows that the fall of Metropolis is the mark of a new beginning where the different cultures, ethnicities, and lifestyles collapse, mesh, and become one. It will only be matter of years before society can reconstruct itself, reformat, and again distinguish new zones.


(Figure 1)

In the opening scene of Rintaro’s Metropolis, much attention is paid to the elitist class amidst the extensive ziggurat celebrations. Above and beyond the upper district is the depiction of a wealthy and luxurious lifestyle that appears to be normal to the members of the elite and its peers. Robot waiters attend to the needs of the upper class, serving cocktails to the intermingling groups of human beings.


(Figure 2)

The robots’ tasks and responsibility are quite clear. They are intended to and function as servers that attend and wait on the human beings. Here is a clear example of economic stratification whereby one’s status and lifestyle is determined by wealth and influence.

Amidst all of the lively commotion and festivities, a robot marked with Zone 1 on its head is shot dead in front of the masses:


(Figure 3)

As mentioned repeatedly throughout the film, robots are never to be found outside of their designated assignment and or zone. A failure to meet this requirement results in immediate death that not only puts them in their proper place, but highlights and warns the masses that each person and or robot is strictly entitled to his/her or its zone. This is what best suits and is considered normal for him/her or it. Influential leaders such as the president and Duke Red dictate what the term and idea of normal is supposed to mean. It is only proper and normal for the highest level of Metropolis to be filled with the wealthiest people, with all robots attending to the requests and needs of the privileged.

The upper district and the most primary zone are portrayed as the most official or in other words, normal zone. Scenes taken in the upper district are not only accredited to normality by its brightness, but also by the structure and organization of the city’s bustling streets, the intricate architecture, the perfect alignment of taxi cabs as well as everyone’s well-suited attire.


(Figure 4)

Activity is always the same in the upper district with little or no distraction; thus, when a robot worker is surprisingly shot down for being out of place or zone, it is simply not enough to stop normal activity or start a revolution. The classification and distinction between human beings and robots at the upper level are quite clear and even accepted as a way of life or how things should be conducted and portrayed. In all of the upper public spaces, its members appear to have some destination and appear busy or occupied, unlike in the underground zones. Just below, food handouts and proper education for schoolchildren are no longer given nor supported due to the massive ziggurat celebrations. It is then normal to think that opportunity funded by those in power can only be achieved in the well-lit and fast-moving society known as the upper district; however, the upper district is a huge open and shared public space, where viewers and individuals in lower levels do not know anything regarding members of the upper district and their private lives at home. Things may appear to be quite normal on the outside, but that is all the audience encounters and is limited to throughout the course of the film.

Signs of cultural and ethnic association and or stratification are regularly displayed in almost all of the underground areas marked with Zone 1. It is clearly perceived how different one level is from another. The Latin quarters marked with the only real source of light, the sign Latin represents and recognizes the Latin community and its influence.


(Figure 5)

Later and again in Zone 1, a sign that reads Zapatería displays cultural influence as well. Signs of culture may appear completely out of place and in no way normal to those residing in the upper district; however, such influences are a way of life and are considered normal to its residents underground. In some of the better-lit scenes in Zone 1, various food carts and vendors of mostly Asian culture are represented.


(Figure 6)

Human beings and robots alike are seen hustling and bustling about where various ethnic foods are prepared and sold; however, it cannot be said that the busyness portrayed in the scenes here come close to the busyness in the upper districts. It appears that the streets lined with various types of food carts lack an appealing or more organized structure of life that is vividly seen above. Cultural and ethnic infusion is normal to its human and android residents below, and they are not aware of such cultural and ethnic stratification. It is interesting to see that aspects of culture and ethnicity are strictly associated with the lower and darker levels.

Following the death or destruction of android D-RP-DM497-3-C also known as Pero, Kenichi’s uncle, the Japanese detective wanders into a bar in Zone 1 where he is met with a disparity of culture. The bartender responds to the detective’s request for hot sake with its closest equivalent, whiskey:


(Figure 7)

Sipping on a hot cup of sake following a very stressful event cannot be compared to a glass of whiskey or gin. Beyond this minor cultural distinction, what appears so commonplace and normal in the eyes of the detective and that of the bartender are very distinct. Normality then lies in what a person is most familiar with and further, how an android is constructed and programmed. For ordinary robots such as Fifi, its intended role and responsibility within society are challenged. Fifi goes beyond its programming and beyond what is or should be normal for a normally functioning Zone 1 robot. It shows an unprecedented kind of concern and love for its newfound friends, Tima and Kenichi.


(Figure 8)

The friendly Fifi also sacrifices its life for the sake of its newfound friends. The standard rules of normality in terms of expectation and performance are disrupted at every level.

Theorist Michael Warner’s issue of normality in his work, The Trouble with Normal is primarily associated with the normal perceptions of sex within mass culture. Though the question of sex is quite different from the question of what is normal for human beings and robots at each stratified level in the city of Metropolis, much can be derived from his arguments that have almost the same idea. Warner starts by saying that “All too commonly, people think not only that their own way of living is right, but that it should be everyone else’s moral standard as well. They don’t imagine that sexual variance can be consistent with morality. And they think that anyone who disagrees with their version of morality must be a fuzzy relativist” (Warner, 4). This one-sided and single-minded approach to what fits as the moral standard not only fails to disregard any cultural or social variance, but also highlights this way of thinking as strictly relativist. Again speaking about sex, Warner provides that “Sex is understood to be as various as the people who have it. It is not required to be tidy, normal, uniform, or authorized by the government. This kind of culture is often denounced as relativist, self-indulgent, or merely libertine. In fact, it has its own norms, its own way of keeping people in line” (Warner, 35). A culture void of variance is one of deep and isolated shame that may involve silent inequalities, unintended effects of isolation, and the lack of public access (Warner, 7). Shame and or failing to be normal has kept many individuals from Zone 1 apart from the open, popular, and more explicit public and normal spaces of the uppermost district of Metropolis.

It seems that the reoccurring problem in Rintaro’s Metropolis is that “Nearly everyone, it seems, wants to be normal. And who can blame them, if the alternative is being abnormal, or deviant, or not being one of the rest of us? Put in those terms, there doesn’t seem to be a choice at all… Of course people want individuality as well, but they want their individuality to be the normal kind, and given the choice between the two they will take normal. But what exactly is normal?” (Warner, 53). Whether one lives and functions alongside members of the upper district or with those belonging to and residing in Zone 1, the essential requirements of life (i.e. eating, drinking, working) are comparable, though executed quite differently. In light of normality, Warner claims and sums up the idea, “Moreover, to be fully normal is, strictly speaking, impossible. Everyone deviates from the norm in some way. Even if one belongs to the statistical majority in age group, race, height, weight, frequency of orgasm, gender of sexual partners, and annual income, then simply by virtue of this unlikely combination of normalcies one’s profile would already depart form the norm” (Warner, 54-55). Differences or variations from one human-to-human, human-to-robot, or robot-to-robot are not enough to determine and conclude with one type of standard normality.

The grand city of Metropolis is one huge hierarchy of social and class standing, as each of the levels are as mentioned before, culturally and ethnically stratified. Warner argues, in his own approach to sex, “And although this tension is felt across the entire movement, it also creates a tendency to sort people by greater or lesser degrees of privilege. A hierarchy emerges… In the right social quarters, if you behave yourself, you can have a decent life as a normal homo – at least, up to a point. Those with the biggest fig leaves stand, always, at the top of the hierarchy. The only price they pay is the price of contradiction” (Warner, 40). Many culturally stratified individuals from Zone 1 and below have limited options and access to the benefits reaped from the upper normal districts. In the scene prior to the protests shadowed by a revolution, unofficial leader Atlas tells Kenichi that much of the poor residing in Zone 1 no longer receive food handouts nor proper education for the children. Warner suggests, “Because some such tension is structural to the politics of stigmatized groups, we might think that it will just never go away, and we should resign ourselves to it, rather than try to resolve these perpetual differences of perspective” (Warner, 44). This stands contrary to Metropolis’ own account and fatal end. The renowned city of Metropolis collapses, destroying and enmeshing all of the zones and leaving nothing but rubble.

Zones of normality cease to be stratified and no longer exist. The grandiose city of Metropolis will soon be rebuilt with new layers and sub-layers; however, these zones may or may not reflect its once divided configuration. The primary difference is that its members now adhere to the hope and future of Metropolis. The physical ruin and meshing of the four distinct zones resemble the ruin and meshing of what was once considered normal in each zone. The beautiful and colorful collapse of Metropolis’ many layers and sub-layers is a fantasy of the film. Various divisions between public and private spaces and between robots and human beings are acknowledged in the vast underground and upper quarters of Metropolis, promoting a more shared public space and world. The elite, middle class, and Zone 1 inhabitants soon discover that the intermingling of culturally and ethnically stratified levels is its own way of transforming oneself or itself in order to contribute to a more commonly accessible world. As Warner puts it, “promote queer sexual culture” just as one would promote not only diversity, but also what effectively fails to be normal.


BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. Metropolis. Dir. Rintaro. Perf. Kei Kobayashi, Yuka Imoto, Kôki Okada, and Tarô Ishida. Columbia Tristar Home Entertainment, 2002. Film.

2. Warner, Michael. The Trouble with Normal. New York: The Free Press, 1999. Print.

Black, White or Grey? Idealization, Idolization and Disdain for Robots in Rintaro’s Metropolis

Rintaro’s Metropolis depicts a world dominated by technology. In the city of Metropolis, robots carry out simple daily tasks and menial jobs. Almost everything in the upper level of the city is automated, and robots seem to be an integral part of day-to-day life. Throughout the film, there is a definite binary presented between the existence of this robotic technology as a positive or negative force. The robots are either praised and idealized, or hated and looked down upon. The film allows little room for the existence of a grey area. In this paper, I will attempt to explain what Rintaro is trying to say by presenting the issue in such a black and white manner, and the cultural and societal implications thereof, and the function of the characters in illustrating his point of view.

In the film, there are two major leaders of the two sides of the good/bad technology binary. First, there’s Duke Red (an influential and popular political leader in the city) commissions creation of a super-being robot to sit on the throne atop the city’s newly completed ziggurat. Duke Red’s plan is for this robot called Tima is for her to function as a deity, as a symbol of the pinnacle of human intelligence, the culmination of scientific knowledge. He plans on using Tima as a means of control over the rest of the world.

On the other hand, there is a great deal of anger and unrest in regards to the existence of robots in the city. In Zone 1, the level just beneath the surface level of the city, evidence of this animosity is prevalent. Kenichi, his uncle and Pero- a detective robot- find themselves in Zone 1 as a fire breaks out, and the public sentiment about robots is almost immediately made known. Some citizens gather to watch the fire and when they realize that Pero is there, the scene immediately turns violent. A group of already angry revolutionaries have gathered, insisting that “the ones up there are trying to kill us!”(Metropolis)



(Figure 1)

One man sees Pero and shouts “Robots out!”(Metropolis) and hits Pero in the face. (Fig.1) “First you take our jobs and now you’re trying to kill us!” (Metropolis) he shouts, indicating the fears and beliefs shared by those who live in the


(Figure 2)

lower levels of Metropolis. The levels of the city are increasingly more impoverished the further down they are, and their inhabitants resent the robots for stealing their jobs and thus contributing to the decline of their already dismal living conditions. Throughout the film, there are many examples of jobs that could easily be done by humans but are done by robots instead. For instance, on the surface lever of the city, there are robots to walk dogs and sweep the streets. (Fig. 2) In Zone 1, we see that fire fighting has been robotized as well. The Albert II robot is a model whose main function is to pick up trash, another task that can be done perhaps more effectively by humans. The issue with this is that menial tasks like sweeping, picking up and sorting trash are somewhat tedious and possibly even humiliating jobs to perform. This is probably the reason why robots like the Albert II were invented, to keep humans from having to do drudgery and tedious, sometimes dangerous work. The citizens of the lower levels of Metropolis are desperate, though, so jobs like the ones I’ve described suddenly seem desirable.

In the film, it doesn’t seem as if it’s possible for the society of Metropolis to function with or without robots. Oddly enough, the people on the upper level of the city seem almost apathetic toward the issue. Though there are a few moments of panic when the Malduks- Duke Red’s vigilante army- shoot and dispose of robots operating on the wrong level of the city, or robots that have gone haywire. It’s strange that the people on the upper level aren’t more disturbed by these shootings and the destruction of robots. I believe the reason that they are so apathetic toward the violent treatment of the robots is because of the very fact that they are robots, not humans. The reaction to that kind of violence against humans on the same regular and public basis would be completely different- but the people on the surface level of the city feel no moral obligation to the robots. Their shock to the acts of destruction carried out by the Malduks is mainly a response to the aspect of chaos appearing in their neat, organized lives. Once the robots have been disposed of, the inhabitants of the surface level of Metropolis simply walk away and carry on with their lives.



(Figure 3)

There are no protests against robots in the streets of the upper levels, and no direct idolization of them either. While the people on the upper level of the city seem to not view robots as either bad or good, I don’t believe that they occupy the grey area because they seem completely unaware of the technology in their city. They move through life almost as if they themselves are robots- unaware of their surroundings, focused on the task of living their peaceful, picture-perfect lives. During the ziggurat celebration, a sort of press conference is held with Duke Red, the President and other political figures. A reporter asks “Is it true that there are military facilities in the Ziggurat?”(Metropolis) The question is never answered. Directly after this scene is one of the people in the streets chanting with vacant, smiling faces “Hurray for the Ziggurat! Long live Metropolis!”(Metropolis)


(Figure 4)

They appear unquestioning of the power of the president and Duke Red and the purpose of the ziggurat, perhaps due in part to the aforementioned apathetic and controlled state of their daily life in the city. The city’s upper level appears clean and safe, and those who live in it buy into this illusion of security. For this reason their reactions to the evidences of the apparent robotic crisis brewing around them are fleeting. They have no reason to believe that- or to care if- anything negative comes of the robots that make their lives simple and tidy. Their near-apathy can’t be considered a midpoint between positive and negative emotion- it’s a complete lack of either.

The closest the film comes to addressing the possibility of the existence of a grey area is in the opening minutes of the film, in which two men discuss the role of robots in their society. The first man to speak says “Those robots are getting big ideas. They don’t know their place!” The second man retorts, saying, “…our economy is unthinkable without robot labor.” (Metropolis) While the first man clearly is opposed to the idea of robot labor and use in the city, the second man doesn’t exactly represent the opposite end of the argument. He doesn’t deny that the robots might be overstepping some boundaries and interfering with human life- he simply points out that they are a necessary part of life in Metropolis- but he doesn’t idealize their existence either.

Duke Red and the Malduks present an issue to the understanding of the good technology /bad technology dichotomy in that their motives and beliefs seem to contradict one another. Duke Red is perfectly willing to put a robot on a throne from which it is to rule the world, yet the political group that functions with his funding has the primary purpose of destroying robots. This is problematic to the idea of robots as either a good or bad thing within Metropolis. Why would the leader of a group who aims to eliminate robots willingly put a robot in a position of power? Perhaps Duke Red believes that within the category of robots there are two subcategories- good and bad. For Duke Red, Tima is a good robot, an ideal robot, while the robots used for labor are bad. There are a couple of reasons why Duke Red classifies Tima apart from the labor robots. First, Tima is meant to be a replica of Duke Red’s dead daughter. Duke Red is emotionally invested in Tima because of this, while he has no emotional connection to the robots that perform chores throughout the city. Secondly, Tima is created for a task much different than those of the labor robots. While it’s the labor robot’s jobs to keep the city clean and running, it’s Tima’s function to sit on the throne inside the ziggurat to show the world how technologically advanced


(Figure 5)

Metropolis is, thus establishing a the city and those who run it as being in a position of power. (Fig. 5) Even within Duke Red’s reasoning for separating Tima from other robots, we see a fairly distinct opposition and no real grey area. Tima is beautiful and serves a lofty purpose, and the labor robots are ugly and meant only for the completion of unskilled labor. Duke Red refers to Tima as a super being, and when she asks whether or not she’s a robot, he is reluctant to tell her that she is. Instead of telling her that she’s a robot, he says “Oh don’t be silly, you’re nothing like those piles of junk!” Tima asks “Then am I human like Kenichi?” Duke Red is at a loss for words for a moment, then finally says, “What are you saying? You’re no mere human being ruled by emotion and feeling, torn between morality and love! You are the super-being.” (Metropolis) In this exchange, a few things become clear. First, Duke Red is not against robots. He is aware of the negative connotation of the word robot in the context of his society, hence his hesitation in identifying Tima as a robot. Duke Red’s idea of a good robot is a sophisticated, human-like robot like Tima. Bad robots- junk- are the kind that are used to do labor. What’s interesting is that Tima herself if unwilling to identify as a robot. She wants to be human so badly, which speaks to the fact that what little human life she has experienced has given her the notion that being a robot is a bad thing.

Dr. Laughton and Duke Red each represent the idolization and idealization of robots. Duke Red not only wants Tima


(Figure 6)

to be created so that she can sit on the throne of power, he wants her created in the image of his dead daughter. Dr. Laughton, the scientist Duke Red charges with the task of creating Tima, is completely in love with technology. He regards Tima as his finest creation, his masterpiece. He is unwilling to give Tima to Duke Red because he wants to keep her for his own. Dr. Laughton expresses his love for Tima and his secret plan to keep her moments after Duke Red leaves his laboratory, proclaiming “I’m not giving you to anyone… She will be my masterpiece!” (Metropolis) Duke Red and Dr. Laughton are both obsessed with having the most perfect, technologically advanced robot, a testament to the fact that a beautiful, elegantly and seamlessly made robot is more desirable than a functional, hard working one. (Fig. 6) Tima is the epitome of beauty with her blonde hair, big blue-green eyes and fair, peachy skin. Fifi, an Albert II trash robot that befriends Tima and Kenichi, looks like a trashcan with vaguely human features- eyes, ears, mouth, arms etc.- but there is nothing beautiful or elegant about it. Tima and Fifi are both robots, but one is obviously for labor and the other for show. Perhaps the apathetic stance the citizen of the upper level of the city that I mentioned earlier has something to do with this clear difference in appearance between labor robots and humans. The dehumanization of these labor robots makes it easy for humans to overlook the mistreatment they endure and to be completely unaffected by the violence carried out against them in public on a fairly regular basis. I would also go so far as to equate this response to slavery, racism against ethnic groups and undocumented, immigrant laborers. When one group of people can manage to make another group seem less human, they can tolerate or turn a blind eye to the injustice with which they are treated. The dehumanization of the labor robots allows the people of Metropolis to ignore the fact that they are needlessly destroyed and relegated to such demeaning tasks as trash sorting, and the dehumanization of ethnic groups in the U.S. (and other parts of the world) allows people to remain apathetic to their mistreatment as undocumented laborers and to the issue of immigrant rights and safety. These classifications based on appearance fall neatly –and somewhat ironically-into the “black and white” molds. The dichotomies remain between good and bad, beauty and brawn, leisure and labor, leaving no reason of room for the grey area to exist. Tima’s very convincing human performance lands her in the good, beautiful and leisurely category, like the humans who live on the upper level of the city. Their function isn’t to work; it’s to carry on neat, picture perfect lives in their neat, picture perfect city. Fifi (and all the other labor robots) are meant only for hard labor, not for beauty or leisure.

Tima’s existence as not quite human and not quite robot play a large role in the blurring of the black and white lines between humans and robots. In States of Emergency: Urban Spaces and the Robotic Body in the Metropolis Tales, Lawrence Bird talks about bare or naked life, “subject to authority that legally places [it] outside the law”. He defines Tima as a “hybrid figure…who remain[s] poised between inorganic and organic, true and false, good and evil. She seems capable of adopting any identity, and not surprisingly, her tag line in the film is ‘Who am I?’ She is an embodiment of bare life.” (Bird 141) Tima is subject to authority, the authority of Duke Red and the president. Being that she’s a hybrid of a human and a robot, she is outside of the law, as Bird states. There is no place in the law for a being like Tima. She has mechanical parts, yet she moves, speaks, learns and thinks freely in the same way a human does. Tima defies the popular perception of robot.

Atlas and his resistance are most angry with the robots about the fact that they are doing jobs that the poor and unemployed inhabitants of the lover levels of the city could have. As the man in the very beginning of the film noted, however, society couldn’t function without these robots. Bird comments on the two revolutions that take place in the film: the human revolution and the robot revolution. “The first rebellion, on the part of human revolutionaries, proves unsuccessful. Despite its earnestness and good intentions, it is an entirely conservative revolution, with the goal of overturning Duke Red and returning the city to a time before robots.”(Bird 141) To Atlas and his revolutionaries, all robots are bad because they take jobs away from humans. Following this logic, it would be wise to do away with technology altogether to create as many jobs as possible. This was the aim of the rebellion. However, the revolt is unsuccessful, as Bird notes, due to its completely one-sided view of the issue. The goal of the human revolution is to return the city to a time before robots, but to simply eliminate all robots is not a viable option. To think in entirely black and white terms, to ignore the possibility of a grey area is not reasonable and for this reason, human rebellion fails. Bird suggests that the failure of this revolution serves as “a warning against conservative revolution and thus as a critique of the complicity between Lang’s film [the original silent film by the same name] and National Socialism.” (Bird 141) I would argue that Rintaro is not only warning against a conservative revolution, or against adopting extremist political like National Socialism (practiced by the Nazi party), but against allowing ourselves to have a belief system the falls only into categories of black and white, but never grey, simply because it’s easiest to argue and understand an issue in it’s most basic, concrete and definite form. As Atlas and his fellow angry citizens believed that the robots were the only cause of their problem of poverty, Duke Red believed that using technology like Tima and the highly mechanized ziggurat, the products of the pinnacle of human knowledge, was the only way to take over the world. The fact of the matter is that neither Atlas nor Duke Red succeed in their one-sided quests to eliminate or elevate robotic technology illustrates what I believe is Rintaro’s point and meaning for this work: unless there is compromise, reason, or a grey area, there can only be dystopian society. The film ends with Kenichi and the surviving robots coming out of the wreckage of the ziggurat, which was brought down by Tima in the robot rebellion. The image of Kenichi and all the robots gathered around him with pieces of Tima evoke a certain sense of hope, born of the idea that if humans and robots can find a middle ground, there is a way to build a society that won’t self destruct the way the society of Metropolis did.

Metropolis shows it’s viewer that although things may appear to be simply black and white, there are tricky moments in which there may appear to be a grey area, moments that are too tricky for people to cope with, and for this reason they are ignored even though the answer to many problems may lie in that very grey area. The fact that the film shows both sides of this dichotomy illustrates an important point: robots can be good as well as bad. People in the society of Metropolis as well as in real life, modern day societies, are quick to take sides and jump to conclusions. By setting up clear distinctions within the social structure between human and sub- or non-human, we perpetuate violence against groups that might not be as different from us as we perceive them to be. Rintaro is showing us in Metropolis that living in black and white is a recipe for disaster and self-destruction, while allowing ourselves to occupying the grey space in between our polarized beliefs is constructive and the key to achieving harmony and peace in society.



WORKS CITED

1. Bird, Lawrence. "States of Emergency: Urban Space and the Robotic Body in the Metropolis Tales." Mechademia 3 (2008): 126-48. Print.

2. Metropolis. Dir. Rintaro. Perf. Rintaro. Sony Pictures Entertainment, 2001. DVD.

Cat Shit One: Zoomorphism, Obstruction and Reattachment

Motofumi, creator of Cat Shit One, juxtaposes the necessity for a detachment against reattachment within our physical and metaphysical bodies by the overcoming of obstacles, such as alienation through warfare seen through the actions of Packy and Botasky. The actions of these two bunny soldiers are interwoven with the motivations of humans causing for new form of reattachment to occur for these zoomorphic friends. Within this short animated film, the audience is originally presented in the setting of a destroyed village during the Iraq War, which camels took control of in order to repel the American USA GI’s.[1] While Packy and Botasky are hiding in the exterior of the compound, they find out back-up is “available in 30 minutes” to assist in the rescue of these ‘canaries’. While Botasky invades to rescue the hostages and to eliminate the terrorists, Packy decides to stay watch because he is scared. As Botasky enters, Packy calls for aid because he is “under rapid fire” by the camels. As the situation is being resolved, Botasky becomes a hero by rescuing the canaries and ordering Packy to carry the hostages towards the exterior perimeter. Concurrently, Botasky continues to eliminate the terrorists, yet surprisingly Packy comes back to aid his partner. As their victory heightens, three back-up trucks enter to ambush these two soldiers. Finally, the helicopter ‘Angel One’, flown by a bunny, comes and kills the terrorists therefore enabling these armed animals to walk out of war peacefully.

Motofumi parodies an earlier work of his own, Apocalypse Meow, a three part series of manga, depicting the physiological feelings of American soldiers during the Vietnam War. In this parody, he juxtaposes real situations and people with surrealistic animals. This reoccurrence of alienation reinstates the creator’s ideologies about the physiological effects of war with this physically altered piece; CatShitOne challenges the limitations of perception in regards to identity of the self and the other in order to form a reattachment to society. Motofumi enables for a detachment from our environment, permitting for reattachment after an obstacle or alienation. Furthermore, he offers various methods of reattachment like teamwork or escape, which enables one to redefine their surroundings. This reattachment makes a stronger impact after a detachment is felt physically and metaphysical because the loss creates greater gain. Therefore, I want to forward his claim about challenging the human perception of identity and self-awareness through redefinition of identity, teamwork and satire between these two bunny soldiers. Additionally, I want to prove that this satiric medium, represented by exposed emotional feelings between the two, enables several methods to be openly reconsidered. Furthermore, this reattachment enables for a conscious connection to be made between the creator and the viewer likewise the characters to aid in reattaching after an obstacle or alienation.

When considering the identity of these characters, the audience needs to consider the structure of the narrative. This involves understanding the surroundings that Motofumi establishes thus providing the audience with the limitations of the characters. These limitations create a sense of identity because they are regarded


(Figure 1)

as functional products. These protagonists’ soldiers are engaging in war against camels from the Middle East. Within this world, animals are the primary form of animate[2] beings. This surrealistic approach allows for a better analysis of the detachment animate beings have in an isolated setting.

As these two characters enter combat, Botasky says to Packy, “If we don’t do it now, those two canaries are going


(Figure 2)

to die.” The use of the word ‘canary’ creates a double pun the meaning of an American hostage and a bird - which these are rabbits. Thus, ‘Canary’ identifies various stages of their own kind, which makes identification difficult for the viewer. Additionally, the animals reference themselves as “armed animals”. Therefore this language is breaking the personification that is originally perceived as humanistic animals. A world filled with various animal nations[3] creates a new attachment to these armed animals. This surrealistic relationship between animal nations redefines their detachment from the people they are fighting for; Both bunnies appear to be fighting alone, escalating self-pressure, furthermore detaching them from their purpose. This creates a new form of reattachment through identity by the function and the characteristic of the animals. This human-animal analogy traps the viewer to believe this is a world of self-aware beings, which become a challenge to define. Cat Shit One portrays a new form of identity, which is moving away from the individual and is moving towards a communal lifestyle.

Moving along, Motofumi creates this setting with the aim of showing various methods of reattaching after an obstacle or alienation. The first glimpse of this rebuilding is through teamwork, which enables for both


(Figure 3)

characters to gain self awareness within a bigger unit, their team. Botasky provides security and leadership while saying to Packy “You can hide if you want, but I’m in the middle of their territory.” This enlightens us to the diverse ways of coping in order to reattach ourselves to our environment and purpose; Botasky takes action, while Packy alienates himself during struggles. Concerning these obstacles, Motofumi creates a challenge with both positive and negative consequences. Later, their teamwork is strengthened by redefining themselves in order to cope with the adaptability of warfare. An example is when Packy, usually scared, aids Botasky while stating “we should go there, only 1km away. Two targets down!” As Packy overcomes his fear, it is necessary to


(Figure 4)

redefine of himself and his team. Motofumi encourages this redefinition of themselves and their team in order to adjust and adapt to their new ever-changing surroundings. I believe this is the first coping mechanism to aid in providing a reattachment after alienation through warfare, teamwork.

Another method Motofumi uses to encourage reattachment is through exposing their relationship and obstacles through a filter of parody. Throughout the film, parody evokes many patterns of reattachment for Packy and


(Figure 5)

Botasky by exposing their relationship for its surrealistic quality. Seen through the parody lens, Packy and Botasky create juxtaposing positions about the function of their weapons. Additionally, these character’s distinct points of view create a detachment from one another. While Packy loves his scope, Botasky inputs his opinion, “You get worn out because of how much you gun weighs.” However, Packy remains stubborn, “But it looks so cool like this.” Thus no change occurs until a re-identification with their weapons.[4] Another cycle of detachment occurs in order to realign and assimilate back into a proper representation. Moreover, the parodied relationship in regards to the gun exposes both points of view and enables for various paths available in order to understand what needs to be fixed for a functioning environment.

Near the ending, Packy is in close combat with a camel and uses his “useless” scope to protect himself from being


(Figure 6)

seriously injured. I believe Motofumi uses this parody to expose this reshaping of attachment in order to teach that primal instincts are necessary to survive and to adapt during warfare. In other words, Botasky’s original opinion shifts in order for his teammate to remain alive; this is a clear relationship of the impact detachment and reattachment has on our physical bodies while we cope with alienation. Botasky’s final words about the scope to Packy are, “my God you are stubborn.” This reinstates the necessity for redefinition because these two juxtaposing ideas of the gun conclude with a positive action, which saves Packy’s life. Caused by the use of parody to distance the characters in the film, Motofumi uses surreal scenes of war with bunnies in order for the audience to detach themselves physically and the question the exposure and limitations of this relationship.
In the closing scene, the soldiers finally receive back-up from ‘Angel One’ in order to regain life for another day of fighting. The reattachment of the characters into a peaceful war is seen through the pastel colors and


(Figure 7)

relaxed posture of themselves and their environment. This reattachment by conscious connections enables Packy to cope with his alienation in order to move into the future. This capability of zoomorphic animate beings to reshape their definitions of their surroundings enables them to overcome their detachment and reattach with a more refined idea. It is impossible for a traumatic event to create a sense of alienation and dystopia for all its characters; therefore some characters can become alienate, yet they are capable of regaining their life. Furthermore, the dichotomy of this scene lies within its parody. The language used during the last scene reinstates this juxtaposing of a peacefully war because Botasky says, “Packy, I didn’t order you to come back. Now you need a punishment.”[5] Contrary to the displeasure of Packy disobeying, this scene also comments upon the rewards of the current war by Botasky being a compassionate creature.

Cat Shit One evokes the detachment and reattachment of our physical and


(Figure 8)

metaphysical bodies in order for time to move along, yet more important is the conscious connections made during times of hardship, which lift our spirits.

When exploring anthropomorphism, I found a connection between Metropolis, and Cat Shit One in regards to the concept of redefining your identity in order to adapt to a new structure. In a futuristic city-state of Metropolis, Tima[6] is pressured about her identity because she is part-human, part-robot. Thus the doctor’s punishment is for her to loose her face -identity. This shows a necessary detachment in order to understand what she was made of. Furthermore, this detachment enables for a new definition of her identity. For the case of perception, Tima is no longer just a


(Figure 9)

human, but also a machine. This new identification enables the community to alienate her from the rest, thus she was treated as the face of the problem. Furthermore, Tima is reattached to the environment of the electronic world thus she is no longer an able human, but a fixed piece of machinery. Additionally, this same process of reattachment is seen in Cat Shit One. The reattachment of a peaceful war evokes Packy to find his identity with his teammate. A note about this reattachment, it is necessary for more than one party to be involved to have this inter-dialogue seen in the effects of behavior and representation. These parallels seen in Metropolis and Cat Shit One allow for the audience to correlate the causes and effects of this alienation through redefining the identity of Tima and Packy. Both of these films elaborate upon the identity of the self as well as the community after a struggle of alienation and reinstate a new form of identification.

While Cat Shit One and Metropolis create a secure space to redefine their self identity within a community, these films go about this task in two distinct ways. Tima, from Metropolis, is cyborg resulting in an ideology to form that she is capable of achievements humans can’t. In result, she comments on the technological revolution and how it affects our human detachment from nature. Such an example is the strong face to face contact that gets her in to trouble to begin with. Contrary, Cat Shit One reattaches this process of identity towards the natural world. These armed animals are personified in order to resonate with our origins of nature. These primal instincts create our tendencies to correlate with animals. Furthermore, this relation permits the imagination to explore new methods of coping with various forms of alienation.

Throughout my research, I grew interested in zoomorphism and “The Animated Beast”[7] as well as the implications of this imagination and redefinition. Paul Wells’s analysis on the anthropomorphic value of animals is represented as human vehicles with a philosophical agenda. He states “I want to further suggest that the facility for animals to work as a form, which privileges imagination- not quite human, not quite animal- enables us to stake a claim in expression, illustration and performance of this philosophical agenda” (136). This clearly shows the inter-dialogue between the human interpretation and the imagination of these satiric animals. Additionally, he claims there are five types of animals; Cat Shit One contains “satiric beings”. These beings, “shed light on the critical and analytical address that characterizes satire and informs its targets and outlook” (160). Moreover, these vehicles play off our ignorance, simple-minded fantasies to exploit the limitations of humans understanding. Cat Shit One evokes its parody in order to expose these physical and metaphysical limitations set by the limitations of the human interpretation.

More over, this ability for animate beings to be able to redefine their identity and their community enables for a conscious connection to be made between the creator and the audience. Paralleling the relationship of Botasky and Packy, Motofumi interjects his ideologies about animals onto the characters in order for the audience to be validated by the reactions they receive. Anthropomorphism enables the viewer to create a connection in regards to the physiology of the alterations of these animals. This convention which alters humanistic traits provokes our personification of animals. This connection gives power to our self-awareness allowing for ourselves to make choices about what methods we use to overcome alienation.

Through the overcoming of this juxtaposition of identity, the structure creates a reattachment towards the audience as analogies of the bunnies, yet this detachment must occur first. Therefore, the reattachment will need to branch off the audiences original physiological feelings of what detached them, like unrealistic warfare or emotional concerns of bunnies and canaries. This unrealistic aspect of warfare aids in understanding the detachment and reattachment of the audience to various aspects of physical and metaphysical world. Additionally, the exposure of parody creates for an open connection to be seen without any limitations of perception, which is classical of the human perception. Motofumi portrays Botasky and Packy as surrealistic characters, which are taken to the extreme have no connection with their environment. I believe that because of this surrealism,[8] Motofumi challenges the awareness of our perception in order to facilitate other ideas for overcoming this juxtaposition. In other words, the social function of this film is to enable all people to feel a conscious connection that may have been distanced in the past. The parody emphasizes this distance, while the strong bond of teamwork brings together all nations of people in order to overcome common anxieties we face in our current world, such as warfare and alienation.

Motofumi parodies his original work, Apocalypse Meow, in order to provide a coping mechanism that can be used during a time of warfare. Cat Shit One portrays two armed animals in combat with armed camels in order to show the audience the detachment from warfare that is provided throughout this satire. Furthermore, he also evokes the premise of a reattachment by the strong use of parody to recreate silly, abstract concepts that can be overcome physically by redefining the current surroundings and beings within this environment. First, I question the identification of these armed animals in order to understand the structure of their surroundings. Next, I look through the alienation and find teamwork as juxtaposition. Furthermore, this conflict enables for the audience to understand in an anagogical terms what is occurring during this alienation and various ways of coping. Additionally, Motofumi provides the film with numerous ways, such as teamwork, re-defining, through the reattachment of our physical bodies into our new current surroundings. In conclusion, Motofumi created CatShitOne in order to provide his audience with a conscious connection between himself, the creator and the audience for overcoming obstacles like alienation and warfare in a more parody environment. This parody strengthens this detachment and reattachment through the strong feelings that parody exposes without giving any logical conclusion other than the audiences reconstruction.


NOTES

1. The depiction of Americans as rabbits is actually a pun on the Japanese word for rabbit. The Japanese word for rabbit is "うさぎ", which can be romanized as "usagi", or USA GI.

2. The manga depicts the characters as different animals according to their nationality as follows: American – Rabbit Vietnamese – Cat French – Pig Chinese – Panda Japanese – Monkey.

3. Interestingly, the language of the camels is never identified causing for their perception to be foreign. This forwards the camel’s identity as a terrorist because they appear as people of an uncivilized nation.

4. The distinction in Packy and Botasky’s points of view causes for a necessity of reshaping their team identity.

5. This punishment occurs because Packy decided to come back and aid his teammate out of war. The irony of the punishment forces Packy to be displeased, but able to reattach towards this new social experience.

6. A robot modeled and named after Duke Red's deceased daughter. She is unique in that she appears human, a trait that no other robot shares. However, after she is activated, she has no memory or knowledge about who or what she is.

7. Wells, Paul. “Anthropomorphism, Practice, Narrative.” The Animated Bestiary. Animals, Cartoons and Culture. British Library, y. 2009.

8. Anime Critic: “There is however no blood shown in this anime series which kind of tones it down.”