Mawaru Penguindrum 1: A Look into Ikuhara and Symbolism

It should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that Mawaru Penguindrum has long been my most anticipated show of the 2011 Summer anime season. This is because the director behind Pengi, Kunihiko Ikuhara, is none other than the director for Revolutionary Girl Utena, one of my favourite shows of all time, and arguably one of the most influential anime to have ever been produced. And now that the first episode of this show has aired, I once again have the opportunity to take the foray into the incredible mind of Ikuhara.

Kunihito Ikuhara

Newer viewers of anime and Mawaru Penguindrum may be somewhat confused as to the hype that backs this new show. The primary question is most likely, “Who the hell is Ikuhara?” This is an understandable concern, as he has not done anything high-key for over a decade, since his completion of the Revolutionary Girl Utena film,  Adolescence Apocalypse. 

The man behind it.

The reason for his absence is that he hasn’t HAD to produce another series ever since Utena. He is not the type of director that needs to produce works every other year. He makes a show, and then leaves a lasting impression throughout the industry. People that have not seen Utena are most likely unaware of the incredible influence it has had and still has over anime nowadays. For example, most people mention SHAFT’s trademark animation style: ridiculous camera angles, full body pans, dramatic shots, the whole works. Unaware to many fans of the SHAFT animation style, the primary influences behind their style are, in fact, the techniques used in Revolutionary Girl Utena.

Now, let’s talk a bit about Ikuhara’s style of direction. Above all else, he is one that prioritizes message over exposition, symbolism over dialogue, and themes over shock factor. Utena is infamous for its visual symbolism, and rightfully so; nearly every single shot in the show has importance in lending to the themes that are present in it, so I won’t bring it up again later in my post, because it’ll be self-evident. A major theme in Utena is sexualization, maturity, and “rebirth”. However, Ikuhara, like the greatest of film directors, brings with his symbolism a purpose. What I mean is that he manages to plug in symbolism that is not a wanton allusion to something meaningless to the plot and message behind his show. The word “pretentious” is not a word that can be used to describe his work. No, he carefully crafts everything to meet a purpose. With him, he brings the full breadth of typical literary symbolism, such as colours, to less commonly seen topics that only arise in discussion of film.

"A picture speaks a thousand words." This? Ten thousand.

Now, with this in mind, let’s take a look at the first episode of Ikuhara’s next definitive work, Mawaru Penguindrum. I’ll be going over Ikuhara’s meticulous symbolism as well as what the show holds in promise. I’m also going to ignore the numerous references to Utena, as that would make me take way too many pictures, and I’ll just stick with the show’s internal logic. The following is why I love Ikuhara.

Mawaru Penguindrum

Right off the bat, we see the usage of a film technique: the initial image. In film, this is used in order to essentially say “this is the primary subject matter of my film.” For now, we’ll ignore the dialogue and focus on the image. What exactly is it? At first glance, it can be either a cherub or baby cupid. However, upon observation of the horn, it is most likely a cherub. A studier of Renaissance art should almost immediately equate this with the (distorted) notion of cherubs representing the presence of God. (In reality, that was the cherubim, but that’s a different matter.) So, why is this important? Well, that’s why Ikuhara included the dialogue as well.

“I hate the word ‘fate’,” is what the narrator says. Let’s take a closer look at what exactly “fate” is. The idea of fate is the idea that there is some force behind the world that predetermines events and forces them alongside a path to a certain end. It is closely linked to the ideas of predestination, causality, and deism, except in the former case, God is the one that chooses what happens, and in the latter case, some deity set the world in action and will never interfere again. I believe that the cherub was chosen on purpose to illustrate this: the main conflict will be over the course of a “fate”.

So, back to the importance of the cherub. Note that it is hovering over Himari’s bed. Now, realize, why would the concept of God (symbolized by the cherub) be brought up juxtaposed against the line “I hate the word ‘fate’”? Simple: we’ve got a battle against fate. In fact, this answers true, as I will further elaborate as we continue. To end, the narrator claims that “ever since that day, we would never amount to anything.” Seemingly contradictory in intention to his initial declaration of dislike for “fate”, he seems to be dealing in absolutes (what fate is), now. And with this, we plunge into the deeper mystery that is Mawaru Penguindrum.

 And so, we start with what seems to be an everyday for the Takakura sibli-

What the hell is with that house? Well, keep in mind that Ikuhara does everything in his show to symbolize something. Here, we see colour  symbolism. But there are too many colours to rightfully mean anything just yet, so hold on to that thought.

And we see that the inside of the house is rather… colourful and dissonant as well. This will be important later. From here on, it’s a rather standard anime development, fleshing out the characters and getting to them acquainted to you.

Well, at least until we get a flashback to something earlier. We learn that at some point previously, Himari has been diagnosed with a disease of the brain, and her days to live are numbered, at best. In a fit of rage, Kanba exclaims that there “must be no God,” for something this cruel to happen to a girl that has presumably done no evil. Once again, Ikuhara stresses the notion of “fate” and its controller.

There’s something rather interesting to note about this shot. First, is the use of a skewed camera angle, to accent Kanba’s feeling of desolation. Secondly, is the use of the light. Light is most commonly used to convey the meaning of “truth” in shows, or that the character facing the light is “opening his eyes” to what’s truly happening. Note that both siblings are facing away from the light. The skewed camera angle helps to accent this, and gives the light the feeling of “falling over” onto the characters. Like fate, the truth is inevitable.

We’re then exposed to an expository scene, in which two little kids walk by the house talking about an “apple,” and how it’s supposed to be the “universe in the palm of your hand.” Well, where have we seen an apple, before?

Here it is.

Oh, right, we saw it in the opening sequence. What’s more, it’s conveniently (shock!) in the palm of someone’s hand. Since we’ve already had some religious symbolism, we might as well talk about the apple. The apple is most conveniently linked to the “forbidden fruit” of the story of Adam and Eve. So, what’s the tie between the show and the apple? Is the universe the forbidden fruit? Keep reading. It’s also an allusion to Milky Way Railroad, or Night on the Galactic Railroad, as you’ll see again later.

And so, we cut back to the house, watching as Himari goes by on her “Himari Day,” and we’re treated to another interesting shot.

We see from this camera angle, Himari laying down with a cage decorated with butterflies overhead. Recall that in the earlier scene, the discussion was about Himari’s fate? Well, Ikuhara does this shot to remind us that even in her happiness, the weight of what is inevitable is about to happen. The cage, or more suitably in this case, the “cage of fate” is looming ominously overhead an unassuming Himari. The butterflies bring another realm to the shot. The butterfly is often seen as a symbol of “rebirth” or “transition”, as they go from caterpillars to butterflies through the transitional phase of a cocoon. Note that the butterflies are outside of the cage, possibly denoting that Himari’s “rebirth” or “transformation” will occur outside the boundary of the “cage of fate”? We’ll see.

And so, for Himari Day, Himari decides that they should go to the aquarium and see the penguins. We’re treated to Ikuhara’s own little artistic flairs with the transition scenes for the subway and whatnot. And then we get outside.

Don’t those two images look somewhat similar? Well, besides the directional influence, of course. The left is taken right after they emerge from the subway, and the right is taken from the opening sequence. On the left, we have two male figures bumping heads with each other, somewhat indicative of the squabbles the two male siblings have with one another. On the right, we have what appears to be a loop that’s broken. Interesting little thing to note.

After looking at the penguins for a while, Shoma goes with Himari to buy a present.

And they get this ADORABLE hat for Himari. Of course, we’re not getting anywhere without some conflict, and fate comes back to bite the brothers in the ass, as they find Himari unconscious nearby. She is rushed to the hospital, at which point she dies after saying her brothers goodbye.

And the poor brothers are forced to watch as their beloved sister dies, without being able to do anything. Truly, fate is a cruel mistress, no? Once again, take note of the light in this shot. Ikuhara takes this moment to take a dramatic shot, wherein the audience can’t see what’s going on beyond the glass. This is done for the audience to visually interpret what the characters are thinking: they can’t do anything. The brothers are looking straight into the light: they’ve realized that Himari’s death had to have come sometime.

With the two brothers lamenting over Himari’s death, we now develop drastically different personalities. Whereas Kanba’s (red) way of dealing with Himari’s death is to push it off and blame fate, we see Shoma’s (blue) opposing view. Shoma screams at his brother, being able to pass off his sister’s death as “something that happened,” and tackles him to the ground. Fate vs Avoidance, classic.

And then, Himari wakes up, with the hat Shoma bought on her head. She begins to speak in cryptics, before the hat falls off and she returns to the peaceful old Himari. The brothers rejoice, as their sister has returned.

The rest of the section about the penguins and whatnot don’t contain much besides Ikuhara expanding the situation in a humorous fashion. And the penguins are adorable. When the siblings return home, they begin to eat, and then the hat gets back on Himari. Get ready, because this is insane stuff, and Ikuhara is an amazing man.

Long story short, this entire following sequence is an extended metaphor combining sex, birth, and exposition. I mentioned that one of Ikuhara’s main themes is sexualization, earlier? So, get ready for some SEIZON SENRYAKUUUUUUUUUUU.

Sperm.

Egg. Notice the clock, indicative of causality.

I'll let you use your imagination.

I believe this is self-evident.

Mother's belly.

Vagina, birth canal

OK, the last picture needs a bit of explanation, but I believe the rest of the pictures got the point well across. The last part is going to be used in the process of the exposition to symbolize the “birth” or “rebirth” of Himari. Also, this scene is also a heavy reference to Milky Way Railroad, or Night on the Galactic Railraod. I choose to believe that it really does represent what I put above, because it’s Ikuhara.

So, here’s the exposition: Nadine, the entity possessing Himari, wants the Penguin Drum, and the conditions for her keeping Himari alive are that the brothers search for it. Suddenly, the symbolism from the cage and butterflies rears its head: Himari has avoided her fate of dying, and is rebirthed outside of the “cage of fate”. Also, here’s a bit of speculation on my part: remember the talk about what the apple symbolizes? Now, remember the talk about the kids with the apple being the “universe in the palm of your hand?”  Remember the shot of the hand holding the apple? Now, compare that shot with this one:

Hand?

Doesn’t that look familiar? Well, anyways, I’m going off on a limb here with my speculation, but here’s my guess: combining everything that’s been said so far, I’m going as far to say as Nadine’s goal is to control the universe, and the penguindrum will allow her to do just that.

Anyways, Nadine then begins to walk down the staircase (vagina), stripping all of her clothes off. I’m going to say that this is her path down “rebirth”, and the taking off of clothes symbolizes being “born as a baby” with Himari’s new life.

Do I sound insane?

And then she promptly goes off to rip out Kanba’s heart (or something to that effect).

Now, get ready for some intra-post Chekhov’s gun. Remember way, way back when I mentioned that colours are important here? Well, if you rewatch the episode, you’ll see that every single shot with all three of the siblings (Kanba, Shoma, and Himari) are dissonantly coloured, with clashes palettes all over the place (just look at that house). However, any scene with only two or one of the siblings active has a natural colour scheme. Why is this important? Because this colouring theme now becomes apparent, in that the three of their lives will now be HECTIC.

And, if the following picture is any indication:

Yes, that's Kanba and Himari

We’re in for a wild, wild ride. It isn’t Ikuhara without incest. I’ve covered a lot less about the plot than there was in this episode, but that’s OK.

Now, this is only a fraction of how ridiculously symbolic Utena was, but this is only the first episode. I expect this show to pick up in spades, soon. This combination of symbolism, camera shots, film-like direction is something that you only get from Ikuhara. And that is why I respect him so.

FABULOUS!