A Snake of June (2002). From the director of Tetsuo, The Iron Man comes A snake of June, a powerhouse of cinema that recklessly throws its audience into an uncomfortable intimacy of a woman's repressed sexuality. The avant-garde feel will probably put off most of the Hollywood set, but for the rest of us this entry by director Shinya Tsukamoto will leave a remarkably indelible mark.
The story starts out innocent enough, but is soon drawn to the hyper-kinetic and surreal realms where torrents of socially oppressed emotion begins to burst through its mightily walled-up dam. This threat remains throughout and is highlighted with the blue-infused black and white photography coupled with the perpetually rainy weather and busy drain plugs. At some point the story takes a hard turn, leaving many viewers in the dust, but this turn is not without the logic found in irrational behavior.
The acting is primarily dominated by the three main characters. Most impressive is Asuka Kurosawa. Her thinly veiled facade is a treat to watch as it finally comes crashing down. Her husband is played by the unprofessional actor Yugi Kohtari. Up against the monumental Asuka, there is no questioning his self-consciousness, but he nonetheless captures the essence of the creepy husband. Actor/director Shinya Tsukomoto wins the creepy award though. Apparently he had wanted to play the part of a stalker for the previous decade or two, and his time spent training for this discomfiting role shines through.
Shinya's directorial style and prowess glares through the cloud-strewn backdrop effortlessly. The hand-held camera is busily searching for the hidden crevices of humanity best left unearthed, at least in the mind of the owner. Shinya's camera is not to be denied, with uncomfortable close-ups and frenetic shots revealing the discombobulated reality hidden behind Japanese courtesy and composure. And just when the perturbations of the camera are settling in, Shinya throws in some rather disturbing imagery for good measure. The result is fantastic, at least for those that could keep up.
The end seemed rather anticlimactic, but maybe it was for the best, allowing the symbolism to once again say that which is impolite to intimate, at least in this confounding land in the east.
d
__________________

Fate is my mistress, mother of the cruel abomination that is hope.
|