A Snake Of June [DVD] [2003]

Snake of June is unique that set in black and white and with some unusual photography, where a woman Rinko(Asuka Kurosawa) discovers her inner desires through her blackmailer.

The husband Shigehiko(Yuji Koutari) discovers his wife Rinko(Asuka Kurosawa) maybe leading a double life, so Shigehiko becomes a suspicious man that wants to observe her. It’s a classic set-up of film noir, but strange with many mysterious settings.

Rinko initially a repressed, woman with no hope, becomes slowly sexually reawakened after Iguchi forcibly encourages her to live out her secret fantasies. Iguchi her ‘knight’ helps her to have a satisfying sex life. The therapy starts to work, it becomes electric and soon things start to change for Rinko and Shigehiko. The mood changes and Shigehiko does not know what to do and becomes feable, Iguchi realises that he has the opportunity to take control of Rinko and uses her like 'meat'.

Snake of June is a erotic thriller about control as well as self-control. While it may thrill certain audiences, the inner sanctum shows a hidden message of passion, desire and voyeurism not seen in many modern films. However, the realism of the film can be defined as extreme and maybe disturbing to those that have never seen such scenes.
For those with an appetite that want to understand 'voyeurism' it is a essential to see this film.

this film is my favourite film ever. Like most Japanese films this is quite confusing and might take a few viewings to actually understand what's happening. This shouldn't put you off though as it is a fascinating and compelling film. I must warn people that it does contain strong scenese of a sexual nature and if you are uncomfortable with this you should approach with caution. My friends refer to it as "japanese porn" which it totally isn't. It is an artistic journey into hidden desires and voyeurism. An amazing, beautiful, compelling thriller with a fantastic musical score. This IS for fans of the Japanese cinema.

A Snake of June (2002) is the thematic culmination of over a decade's worth of cinematic experimentation for Japanese auteur and erstwhile enfant terrible Shinya Tsukamoto; with the film's themes of fear, repression and the limitations and fragility of the human body recalling the surrealist body-mutilation of Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1988) - and his metaphoric metamorphosis into a drill-bit wielding cyber-punk - through to the modern day horror of Tokyo Fist (1995) - with its punishing images of primal carnage - and of course, Bullet Ballet (1998) - with its wasteland of urban decay and the bleak thematic examination of suicide.

With this in mind, viewing Tsukamoto's work from the visceral and vivid 'Tetsuo' through to the film in question is often like studying the basics of the auteur theory in seven easy steps; with the director progressing from the low-budget horror of The Iron Man (1988), through to it's bigger-budgeted sequel/remake Tetsuo II: Body Hammer (1991) and then onto the aforementioned double-punch of Tokyo Fist (1995) and Bullet Ballet (1998). That's not to mention his lush period-mystery Gemini (1999) and his more recent examination of death and decay with the subtle and mature Vital (2004). Each of these films presents its own treatise on a clearly defined theme, which, when viewed within the larger context of Tsukamoto's world presents us with a true, single-minded and intensely unique body of work. This is represented, not only by the repeated use of death, decay, metamorphosis and the human body as a central motif, but also by the presence of Tsukamoto as writer, director, cinematographer, editor, production designer and, in many cases, lead actor; but also with the vital role in which Tokyo itself plays in shaping his highly expressive narratives.

In the Tetsuo films, Tokyo presented itself as a labyrinthine maze of metal, concrete and steel that only succeeded in dehumanising its citizens into soulless, destructive monsters; in Tokyo Fist, the skyline of the city dwarfs its central character, intensifying his sense of weakness and lack of power, and eventually leading to his attempt to reclaim himself from this backdrop of mocking malaise and social conformity; while in Bullet Ballet, the world is dark, empty, devoid of colour and numbed to any real sense of feeling and purpose. Once again, A Snake of June feels like a culmination of this idea; depicting a Tokyo that is cold, claustrophobic, awash with a constant rain and a general lack of warm colour; with the images here presented in a blue-tinted monochrome that stresses the empty sterility of the central relationship and the world in which they inhabit.

Like The Iron Man, Body Hammer, Tokyo Fist and Gemini, the film uses the relationship between three characters (and their feelings of jealously, lust and paranoia) as its starting point; introducing us to Rinko (Asuka Kurosawa) and her husband Shigehiko (Yuji Koutari), who live a contented, if entirely soulless existence lost amongst the high-rise apartments of metropolitan Tokyo. All of this is turned upside down however by the appearance of Iguchi (Tsukamoto), a terminally ill photographer of lurid pornography who meets Rinko via her position as a Samaritans-like phone councillor, and, realising that she has helped him put the final stages of his life in order, decides that he wants to do the same for her. What follows is series of sensational mind-games, as Iguchi blackmails the prim Rinko with illicit, secret photos he's taken of her masturbating in her apartment in order to get her to act out the sordid, self-pleasuring acts she furtively craves. For example, in one of the film's central set-pieces, Iguchi, using a cell phone, instructs Rinko to buy a scandalously short-skirt, to wear it in a crowded shopping mall without underwear, to buy a vibrator, to insert it and then, finally, to buy a series of embarrassingly phallic objects from a local fruit vender while he controls the vibrator via remote control.

Despite the sordid aspect of this scene and many of the later scenes that follow, the film is never pornographic, nor entirely explicit. Tsukamoto manages to create a weird, ambient-like eroticism through the use of the cold, monochromatic colour scheme, the constant rain and the oppressive sense of closeness and heat that he manages to instil within every scene. The set-piece described above is a real turning point for the two characters Rinko and Iguchi; being more tense and thrilling than any thriller you could care to mention, as Rinko faces the leers and giggles of passing strangers, while Tsukamoto creates further dread and paranoia through the use of choppy editing, fragmented point-of-view shots and some incredibly creative sound design.

The second half of the film is more fragmented and surreal; moving into the expressive, metaphorical, highly visual realm of Tetsuo and Tokyo Fist; as Shigehiko's repressed businessman is literally terrorised by his own deeply-hidden desires, while Iguchi's physical pain and torment are manifested in blood-soaked violence and an extendable, metallic phallus that emerges from a hole in his stomach. I wouldn't want to give too much away, but these scenes definitely need to be experienced, not only as they represent for me what true filmmaking really is, but also because they present the central emotional construct of these characters better than any dialog or exposition ever could! The film has a few more twists and turns that I won't go into here, though, sufficed to say, the overall message of the film is ultimately a simple one, though it's told in a highly expressive and enigmatic manner that is more than suited to Tsukamoto's wild and distinctive cinematic imagination.

The performances from all three of the lead actors are outstanding and much deeper and more emotionally honest than you might-expect from a low-budget Japanese art film; though, it has to be said, it's really Tsukamoto, both as a filmmaker and with his complex performance as Iguchi and Asuka Kurosawa's fearless performance as Rinko that truly dominate. A Snake of June is, for me, what cinema should be; complex, visually stunning, intelligent, enigmatic, emotionally charged and above all else, challenging. It obviously won't be to all tastes, but certainly those with a fondness for challenging independent cinema and an open mind will find much to appreciate; whilst those who are already familiar with Tsukamoto's previous work, such as Bullet Ballet or his earlier masterpiece Tokyo Fist, should easily find much to enjoy within the rain-soaked claustrophobia of A Snake of June's very bizarre love triangle.