A world where demons roam. In its center, a tower called the “Tower of the Revolution.” Whosoever can remain victorious in his battles against the demons can reach the pinnacle of the Tower of Revolution, and at the same time receive the power to revolutionize the world; the power that changes the rules of the world.
However, when he reaches the pinnacle, he learns the world’s governing laws.
He faces the ultimate choice: will he stay nobly, beautifully powerless? Or will he accept ugliness into himself and gain absolute power?
He desired both.
Or rather, perhaps he couldn’t choose either.
His mind in anguish, he divided himself in two. His “noble heart,” and the “adult with absolute power.”
With one last wish that the day would come when someone would awake him, the “noble heart” that had lost its body, in other words the prince, fell into deep sleep.
Early on in the series’s conception, I kicked around the idea of placing something like the above at the heart of the story. Later, after several changes, it became the tale as you know it, but without a doubt, he did reach the pinnacle of the Tower of the Revolution.
It was a place where “eternity” dwelled.
And “eternity” turned out to mean perpetual sleep.
The prince (Akio) who became an adult while in perpetual sleep lost something. What he lost was “the power to create an enjoyable future.”
Revolution means gaining “the power to imagine the future.”
The prince chose to sleep on, and the princess chose to wake up. At the top of that tall tower, the princess bid farewell to the prince. No—she wasn’t the princess any longer. She quit being a “person (thing) ruled by someone.” The victory bells rang, but there was no “tower (rule)” beyond them now. She’d learned where freedom lay. She crossed the threshold of that “Door of Revolution” /which had always been closed to her before/, and began walking. The “girl’s revolution” lay in the girl’s future.
“Wait for me… Utena.”
The world (the stage) is free and wide.
”—Revolutionary Girl Utena’s director Kunihiko Ikuhara on the finale of the series and the fairy tale at the heart of the story. (via somaperies)
“I think I’ve been watching Penguindrum from the very start as a ‘mother.’ I don’t think of myself as a particularly motherly personality, but rather than ‘empathizing’ with any of the characters, I find myself earnestly ‘watching over them.’ So during the ramen shop scene in episode 19, as I watched Kan-chan acting so shy at his parents’ words of praise… No matter what his past is, I found myself thinking of him (even more than I had before at the start) first and foremost as my own little child, almost painfully so.”—Ikuhara’s twitter, translated here (via goddamnit-ikuhara)
“The Princess’ “seizon senryaku!” yell is so loud for so early in the morning. Ikuhara wants to set “seizon senryaku!” as his alarm clock ringtone.
Miyake: ‘You wake up and it goes, “IMAGINE!”’
Ikuhara: ‘I’ll tell you, who will never amount to anything: IT’S EIGHT AM.’”—Mawaru Penguindrum, Episode Two Commentary (via goddamnit-ikuhara)