Black Rock Shooter. Yeah. Most peeps look at this show as girls having their real life problems play out in metaphorical fever dream form. All that gun play and wheels for feet and chain bondage is a big fucking pretentious metaphor for “life sucks when you’re a angsty moeblob.”
I don’t buy that. That’s way too easy of an answer. It makes perfect sense, but fuck sense. Let’s turn shit around. That fever dream world? That’s the real world in this anime. And the high school melodrama? That’s the dream.
Let’s run with that idea.
Let’s say you’re some badass chick in a tube top, a leather jacket, and hot pants. You just like to mind your own business, cruising the dime store Dali-like wasteland that you call home. You don’t mind the ever-present, all-seeing eyes because you’ve been used to that shit all your life. Hell, you probably find its presence kinda soothing or whatever. What you don’t like is how all of the other chicks roaming around this place seem to have it out for you.
All you wanna do is sit around and look all stoic and shit, posing for that all-seeing eye as if it actually cared about your posturing. But these gussied up dames won’t let you do your thing. They try to kick your ass and bind you up in chains. Even when you fight back and prove to them that your Big Ass Shooter can kick their asses, and even when you prove that they’ll get nowhere as they saw away at your mid rift, they still keep coming at you trying to turn you into some fetish play thing or some shit.
This doesn’t make a lick of sense to you. All your life you’ve been able to do your own thing. Sure, whatever presence behind that orbital eye might not get what you’re doing, but this surreal world makes sense to you. But these combative chicks are disrupting your internal logic. They don’t belong here. This ain’t a world of battles and bondage, this is a world of nihilistic posturing.
So what do you do? How do you cope with what seems to be an endless barrage of attacks by macaroon-shooting spider tanks?
You create an alternate reality inside of your head that rationalizes all of this. You take the meaningless existence that you’re used to, warp it into a soothing “slice of life” atmosphere, and digest all of this conflict in easy to swallow pills of melancholy and melodrama.
All of those scenes of the girls in school and at the hospital and with the dolls is just some delusion that Black Rock Shooter is creating to put herself at ease. It’s her way of rationalizing the senseless violence that’s besieged her once-peaceful dreamscape. It’s a reverse Sucker Punch, where the badass fighter chick imagines herself to be a “normal” girl in a “mundane” world to cope with her fucked up world going too far over the top for her tastes.
The series makes way more sense in that regard. Besides, that’s the only way those fucking multi-colored macaroons make sense. No way in hell someone sells those cookies in that sort of color assortment in any reality resembling ours.