A Snake of JuneThe more you repress a feeling, the more it digs away at your thoughts, becoming a malignant pain. A Snake of June is a stylized drama by Shinya Tsukamoto about Rinko Tatsumi (Asuka Kurosawa), a young woman who works at a suicide prevention call center during the day. She and her older husband, Shigehiko (Yuji Kohtari), no longer have a sexual relationship: they sleep separately, and he spends all his time at home obsessively cleaning the house. One day, Rinko receives a batch of scandalous photos of her, taken by Iguchi (Shinya Tsukamoto), a voyeur and client of Rinko's, who blackmails her into exploring her fantasies in humiliating ways, claiming that he is trying to awaken her "true" self.
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At first blush, A Snake of June sounds like an exploitation movie, the kind that has given "erotica" a negative connotation. A Snake of June is made more poignant by exploring the motivations of its characters in meaningful ways. Iguchi places Rinko in several provocative scenarios while dangling the film negatives like a carrot. He makes her wear a slinky miniskirt without underwear in public, and has her buy a vibrator at an adult bookstore. He then instructs her to purchase a single cucumber, banana, and eggplant from a street vendor while he operates the remote controlled vibrator from afar. These scenes are tense and the audience sympathizes with Rinko's anxiety of being humiliated. Iguchi has been stalking Rinko and is aware that her repressed sexuality has had a numbing affect on her life; in his eyes, this is not an act of debasement but of liberation. Her proverbial walk of shame is a gauntlet that leads to understanding her real passions harbored deep inside. Iguchi's performance does have an ulterior motive; as he now has a more intimate knowledge of Rinko's anatomy than her husband, he believes she has breast cancer, and wants her to see a doctor. He sympathizes with Rinko--he called her when he was contemplating ending his life, because he is dying of stomach cancer. Iguchi later says that nuns are known for suffering from breast cancer, and he makes the claim that this is due to their repression of their sexuality. Iguchi is trying to lead Rinko to salvation before this cancer takes her life. Although the ethics of Iguchi's method are questionable, he is motivated by a desire to repay Rinko for her kindness. He resents Shigehiko for ignoring Rinko and failing to notice the lump in her breast. He is also enraged at him for suggesting that Rinko not have the surgery to remove her breast, even though it might save her life. Shigehiko has become so obsessive about order in his world that he doesn't want to have anything that might be imperfect in his life. His compulsion is his own way of running from his emotions, repressing them like his wife. It is suggested that Iguchi harbors feelings for Rinko, although he never acts on this with the intent of driving her and Shigehiko apart; his efforts to revitalize Rinko's libido brings them closer together in the end. The most powerful scene in A Snake of June depicts a more confident Rinko striding into an abandoned alley in the midst of the pouring rain, while Shigehiko follows her unseen. Iguchi pulls up in his car and begins taking photographs of her while she feverishly strips off her soaking dress as the same vibrator from before is doing its discreet work--Shigehiko looks on, aroused by her frenetic display. This scene is sexually provocative, and represents a liberation of Rinko's soul and a revelation for Shigehiko, who understands the passions burning within his wife that he had previously ignored.
When Rinko is first made to walk the city streets in the miniskirt, her obvious discomfort seems to be the real reason that others look on with disapproving glances. But the second time she does this, there is no indication that anyone is casting a lascivious or scornful look her way. The direction mirrors Rinko's self-esteem; she is no longer concerned with what other people think or how they judge her--she has crossed that threshold. It is ironic that the director (Tsukamoto) also plays the voyeuristic Iguchi, who uses his camera to "direct" Rinko into provocative situations. This suggests that it is not just Iguchi who releasing Rinko's spirit, but that the filmmaker is using A Snake of June to "free the audience" of their own prejudices. The role of the camera in A Snake of June is crucial; it is how Iguchi connects with Rinko--who she really is. Iguchi emphasizes that he is always watching her, and is always photographing her. His photographs are his "artwork" that he sends to her, like Vincent van Gogh offering little pieces of himself to the woman he admires. He is a camera enthusiast, and takes a self-portrait using an old camera he made from a coffee can when he was a kid. He stares into the black void that is the lens of the makeshift camera, and is developing the photo of himself in the next scene. He captures himself in the photograph, trying to achieve some deeper understanding through the rituals of the camera, as he does with Rinko. When Iguchi photographs Rinko in the alley during the ubiquitous downpour of Japan's rainy season, the repeating flashes of the camera are like bolts of lightning, with Iguchi acting as Zeus. Each snap of his camera is punctuated by an orgasmic moan by Rinko, as though each contraction of the shutter is an intimate penetration. A motif in A Snake of June is how people often behave differently in front of a camera than otherwise. Some people become more shy or restrained, while others become exhibitionists. The camera also represents a barrier between Iguchi and Rinko, like a prophylactic or a literal wall that Iguchi peeps from and archives Rinko's eroticism.
A Snake of June is shot exclusively in a striking monochromatic blue tint, as if it were a knowing wink to the phrase "blue movie", used to describe a pornographic film. A Snake of June incorporates elements of body horror and fast-paced camerawork to give the film a fierce energy and the feeling of a waking nightmare, as it is with other films by Tsukamoto, such as Tetsuo: The Iron Man or Vital. Shigehiko has a hallucinatory daydream about his wife and another woman drowning in a metal tank, while he and other men wearing bizarre goggles watch, while servants periodically adjust their goggles. It is a strange vision that invokes the nausea and unease that comes with crippling doubt and fear of the unknown. Tsukamoto uses these extreme visuals to provoke an emotion in the audience--they are a metaphor for the powerful feelings felt by his characters, where logic and reality are irrelevant. This vision could describe his crippling impotence which would explain his reluctance to be intimate with his wife. He becomes jealous and fearful that his wife is being unfaithful when Iguchi begins calling him and antagonizing him. This leads to a scene where Iguchi debases and assaults Shigehiko, as a metallic snake slithers from a harness on Iguchi's crotch and strangles Shigehiko. Shigehiko's feelings of inadequacy or guilt contribute to his obsessive need to clean. It is a self-perpetuating neurosis--he continues to ostracize her from his life, which makes her sexually frustrated, which fuels Shigehiko's delusion that she is unfaithful. Tsukamoto insinuates that there is a connection between what we see and what we feel, and this affects how we subconsciously respond to A Snake of June. Rinko works at a suicide prevention call center, but her inviting attitude and her repressed sexuality suggests a feeling that she is in a role of a phone sex operator. When she is on the train coming home from work, she slaps a man who we presume has been molesting her. We don't really know when the molestation started or stopped; since the timing is missing, this also suggests the feeling that she may have enjoyed it to some extent which kept her from reacting immediately. There is a predominance of lingering shots on nature--like verdant houseplants and a languid slug slithering across the leaves, intimating both the ripe and slimy elements of sex on Rinko's mind. The constant moistness and sultry weather makes A Snake of June the "wettest" of movies, and the sound of rainfall becomes louder when Rinko is sexually aroused. Even the incessant running of her pet hamster on hamster wheel speaks to her unresolved libido in a Freudian way--pent up with nowhere to go. Tsukamoto's films are often filled with bold scenes and stories that defy logic--like a dream. This means that these feelings are always a lingering possibility, an interpretation that is like a vestigial vapor in the air of some scent we cannot know for sure if it is there or in our fantasies.
Recommended for: Fans of a bold and provocative drama about the perils of suppressing our emotions, sexual or otherwise. A Snake of June encourages subjective analysis with its dreamlike (and even nightmarish) imagery--rich with metaphor, intense direction, and fearless performances.
When Rinko is first made to walk the city streets in the miniskirt, her obvious discomfort seems to be the real reason that others look on with disapproving glances. But the second time she does this, there is no indication that anyone is casting a lascivious or scornful look her way. The direction mirrors Rinko's self-esteem; she is no longer concerned with what other people think or how they judge her--she has crossed that threshold. It is ironic that the director (Tsukamoto) also plays the voyeuristic Iguchi, who uses his camera to "direct" Rinko into provocative situations. This suggests that it is not just Iguchi who releasing Rinko's spirit, but that the filmmaker is using A Snake of June to "free the audience" of their own prejudices. The role of the camera in A Snake of June is crucial; it is how Iguchi connects with Rinko--who she really is. Iguchi emphasizes that he is always watching her, and is always photographing her. His photographs are his "artwork" that he sends to her, like Vincent van Gogh offering little pieces of himself to the woman he admires. He is a camera enthusiast, and takes a self-portrait using an old camera he made from a coffee can when he was a kid. He stares into the black void that is the lens of the makeshift camera, and is developing the photo of himself in the next scene. He captures himself in the photograph, trying to achieve some deeper understanding through the rituals of the camera, as he does with Rinko. When Iguchi photographs Rinko in the alley during the ubiquitous downpour of Japan's rainy season, the repeating flashes of the camera are like bolts of lightning, with Iguchi acting as Zeus. Each snap of his camera is punctuated by an orgasmic moan by Rinko, as though each contraction of the shutter is an intimate penetration. A motif in A Snake of June is how people often behave differently in front of a camera than otherwise. Some people become more shy or restrained, while others become exhibitionists. The camera also represents a barrier between Iguchi and Rinko, like a prophylactic or a literal wall that Iguchi peeps from and archives Rinko's eroticism.
A Snake of June is shot exclusively in a striking monochromatic blue tint, as if it were a knowing wink to the phrase "blue movie", used to describe a pornographic film. A Snake of June incorporates elements of body horror and fast-paced camerawork to give the film a fierce energy and the feeling of a waking nightmare, as it is with other films by Tsukamoto, such as Tetsuo: The Iron Man or Vital. Shigehiko has a hallucinatory daydream about his wife and another woman drowning in a metal tank, while he and other men wearing bizarre goggles watch, while servants periodically adjust their goggles. It is a strange vision that invokes the nausea and unease that comes with crippling doubt and fear of the unknown. Tsukamoto uses these extreme visuals to provoke an emotion in the audience--they are a metaphor for the powerful feelings felt by his characters, where logic and reality are irrelevant. This vision could describe his crippling impotence which would explain his reluctance to be intimate with his wife. He becomes jealous and fearful that his wife is being unfaithful when Iguchi begins calling him and antagonizing him. This leads to a scene where Iguchi debases and assaults Shigehiko, as a metallic snake slithers from a harness on Iguchi's crotch and strangles Shigehiko. Shigehiko's feelings of inadequacy or guilt contribute to his obsessive need to clean. It is a self-perpetuating neurosis--he continues to ostracize her from his life, which makes her sexually frustrated, which fuels Shigehiko's delusion that she is unfaithful. Tsukamoto insinuates that there is a connection between what we see and what we feel, and this affects how we subconsciously respond to A Snake of June. Rinko works at a suicide prevention call center, but her inviting attitude and her repressed sexuality suggests a feeling that she is in a role of a phone sex operator. When she is on the train coming home from work, she slaps a man who we presume has been molesting her. We don't really know when the molestation started or stopped; since the timing is missing, this also suggests the feeling that she may have enjoyed it to some extent which kept her from reacting immediately. There is a predominance of lingering shots on nature--like verdant houseplants and a languid slug slithering across the leaves, intimating both the ripe and slimy elements of sex on Rinko's mind. The constant moistness and sultry weather makes A Snake of June the "wettest" of movies, and the sound of rainfall becomes louder when Rinko is sexually aroused. Even the incessant running of her pet hamster on hamster wheel speaks to her unresolved libido in a Freudian way--pent up with nowhere to go. Tsukamoto's films are often filled with bold scenes and stories that defy logic--like a dream. This means that these feelings are always a lingering possibility, an interpretation that is like a vestigial vapor in the air of some scent we cannot know for sure if it is there or in our fantasies.
Recommended for: Fans of a bold and provocative drama about the perils of suppressing our emotions, sexual or otherwise. A Snake of June encourages subjective analysis with its dreamlike (and even nightmarish) imagery--rich with metaphor, intense direction, and fearless performances.