Much like Stephen King's Misery, Perfect Blue is on its surface an examination of the relationship between public figure & the fanatical, & how any privacy, sense of creative passion, and even identity becomes prey to the vultures of gossip and consumerism. Whereas Misery kept events relatively grounded yet seen through the lens of this intense adoration, Perfect Blue punches deeper and deeper into the psychological dread of what it truly means to be the celebratory figure in question. Mima, the pop idol loved by many, makes the decision to quit singing and become an actress, a move largely disliked by that same crowd. From the beginning of the film, you can see the psychological manipulation on display through the gossip of crowds and the marketplace manipulation of so-called collector's items, as if Mima is no longer a person but a commodity ready to be bought-and-sold to the highest bidder. Indeed, Mima is consistently devalued as an individual; rarely are her own feelings brought into account and even things that feel like her own decisions, such as the filming of a rape scene, are just manipulations of what she simply believes she wants. These abstract feelings manifest themselves into what seems like reality for Mima, both through the Mima's Room blogs and her doppelganger, a sprite-like version of Mima with girlish skips and playful intonation that keeps bringing up past memories Mima is so desperate to escape from. This psychological assault can be quite brutal to watch; seeing this form of impostor's syndrome brought up in such a surreal and unnatural manner is compelling and a genuine fear for anyone no matter what field of work they may find themselves in.
It's these layers of reality Perfect Blue ultimately explores so well. Mima's impostor syndrome is absolutely real, but there's no fantasy to be found here. Instead, it's Mima, being gaslighted by her agent Rumi, a former faded pop idol herself, now seeing herself in some way as Mima and wanting her career to turn out perfectly in a way Rumi's own career didn't. This comes down to perfectly replicating Mima's room (which the film cleverly spends time on establishing shots to help the viewer guess the twist early), writing the Mima's Room blog thanks to being so close to her subject in question, and hiding blood-stained clothes from Rumi's killings. It's sickening to think the one Mima trusted the most turned out to be her worst enemy, but it also forces us to examine are own prejudices and pre-conceptions on who we can trust the most. Me-Mania, the security guard who continually appears to stalk Mima throughout the film, is a convenient culprit thanks to his deliberately creepy and ugly appearance, and while he is to blame on some level, is just as much a victim manipulated by Rumi, using his intense fandom to her advantage. Additionally, Rumi's killings can be seen as an attack on dominating male figures in the entertainment industry for controlling Mima, but ironically, through these actions controls Mima's life more than they ever did. This sort of dynamic is rarely explored in fiction and almost never with the same horrific depth as Perfect Blue, going beyond the simple relationship of celebrity/fan and looks more closely at the relationship we have with parental figures, and how they may not always have our best interests at heart even if all signs point otherwise.
While there's so much else to discuss and talk about with this film and its various themes and commentary on the entertainment industry, Perfect Blue to me definitely stands out the most for its truthful viewpoint on celebrity culture and in general, just finding peace in doing what you want to do purely for yourself. It can be tough to break away from all the screaming influences in your life, but in the end, like Mima does, you can carve out your own path, it just may end up being more violent than you had anticipated.