A young girl in a sailor moon outfit, sits quietly in an empty room, looking at a photo album of girls (from earlier films in this series) who have commit harakiri. The viewing and thought of the suicide turns her on, much in the way that extreme desire and input draw us closer to feeling we have found something tangible. She believes she has found it, so much that she must feel closer to the experience, and the only way to do so is to commit harakiri herself.
The movie is short but moves at a snail's pace, prolonging every emotion, every fleeting sense of emptiness this girl feels, the desperate need to feel, and feel control of her life.
Almost pornographic the girl is overcome with the sheer sense if conviction, feeling close to oneself through revealing and the ritual. So much so, she can taste it.
She literally spends 1/3 of the film enraptured by the thought and flooding sensations of the thought, building up the euphoria required to step in and pick up the knife, and in numb curiosity, achieve the act itself.
she handles the blade with such delicate reverence, like one might caress a lover. Only to sheathe the blade slowly, and place it back on the mat before her.
Now she undresses, slowly, nonchalant, folding her clothing nice and neat beside herself, as if innocently, not actually preparing for anything, almost in secret, where the Gods cannot find her.
She touches her naked body, imagining the cuts, the parallel of her inner torment played out as if meant to be made manifest.
She picks up the blade again with excruciating hesitance and uncertainty, wraps the blade so as to not hold by the handle but by the blade itself, for fear of slipping and dropping the knife in cowardice? The act itself hits one like a burning fire. It is easy to contemplate such things. to romanticize, to delve.... but to actually chase the goal and find it, I literally felt like I was on fire watching her commit the act.
For we do not hear her speak, or know her, but we do know her. The youthful confusion, the pain for pleasure in seeking control in life, the desperation, the hopelessness, and the uncertainty of our bodies, and our emotions, as we begin to discover independence and will.
I could empathize with her so deeply, that i literally felt I was being torn apart through the process, and it was staggering. I did not expect it, perhaps it was the droning background haunting the scene, drawing us in, opening us up. Or the subtle looks of longing, loss, confusion, that any of us can relate. Whatever it was, I found it greatly disturbing, and worth investigating.
The movie is short but moves at a snail's pace, prolonging every emotion, every fleeting sense of emptiness this girl feels, the desperate need to feel, and feel control of her life.
Almost pornographic the girl is overcome with the sheer sense if conviction, feeling close to oneself through revealing and the ritual. So much so, she can taste it.
She literally spends 1/3 of the film enraptured by the thought and flooding sensations of the thought, building up the euphoria required to step in and pick up the knife, and in numb curiosity, achieve the act itself.
she handles the blade with such delicate reverence, like one might caress a lover. Only to sheathe the blade slowly, and place it back on the mat before her.
Now she undresses, slowly, nonchalant, folding her clothing nice and neat beside herself, as if innocently, not actually preparing for anything, almost in secret, where the Gods cannot find her.
She touches her naked body, imagining the cuts, the parallel of her inner torment played out as if meant to be made manifest.
She picks up the blade again with excruciating hesitance and uncertainty, wraps the blade so as to not hold by the handle but by the blade itself, for fear of slipping and dropping the knife in cowardice? The act itself hits one like a burning fire. It is easy to contemplate such things. to romanticize, to delve.... but to actually chase the goal and find it, I literally felt like I was on fire watching her commit the act.
For we do not hear her speak, or know her, but we do know her. The youthful confusion, the pain for pleasure in seeking control in life, the desperation, the hopelessness, and the uncertainty of our bodies, and our emotions, as we begin to discover independence and will.
I could empathize with her so deeply, that i literally felt I was being torn apart through the process, and it was staggering. I did not expect it, perhaps it was the droning background haunting the scene, drawing us in, opening us up. Or the subtle looks of longing, loss, confusion, that any of us can relate. Whatever it was, I found it greatly disturbing, and worth investigating.
