Quirky romance gives way to something very dark indeed in the latest offering from Keisuke Yoshida…
After making his debut with the 2005 Sora Aoi-starring pinku Raw Summer, Japanese director Keisuke Yoshida has been known mainly for amiable offerings such as Silver Spoon, My Little Sweet Pea, and The Workhorse & the Bigmouth. Although it starts off pleasantly enough, his latest film Hime-Anole soon heads into very disturbing territory indeed, perhaps unsurprisingly given that it was adapted from the manga Himeano~ru by Minoru Furuya, whose Himizu was brought to the screen by director Sion Sono. Dealing with similarly bleak themes, the film was rated R-15 for violence in Japan, and had its world premiere at the 2016 Udine Far East Film Festival.
The film stars Gaku Hamada (See You Tomorrow, Everyone!) as Okada, a nice though rather shy and awkward young man working as a cleaner with his socially inept colleague and friend Ando (Tsuyoshi Muro, HK Hentai Kamen 2: Abnormal Crisis). One day, Ando reveals to Okada his love for Yuka (Aimi Satsukawa, Sadako vs Kayako) a waitress at a nearby café, and persuades him to help with winning her heart. In doing so, Okada runs into old classmate Morita (Go Morita, from the immensely popular Japanese boy-band V6), who seems to spend a great deal of time lurking outside the café, leading Yuka to suspect that he might be stalking her. Matters become complicated when Yuka declares her love for Okada and the two start dating in secret, putting a strain on his relationship with Ando, while Morita is gradually revealed to have a dark side to his personality.
Hime-Anole is a tough one to review, as it’s a film which draws most of its considerable impact from the unpredictable way in which things play out, and which it’s advisable to go into knowing as little as possible. With this in mind, the spoiler-free verdict here is that the film is one of the best of 2016, a fantastically wild and unflinchingly nasty thriller which nevertheless retains a raw and often painful humanity.
Hime-Anole starts off innocuously enough, the first third or so of its hour and forty-minute running time coming across like a fairly typical quirky romantic comedy in the modern Japanese style. Okada and Ando are both likeable outsider figures, their social ineptitude and eccentricities making for amusing viewing, and their romantic tug of war over Yuka is appropriately sweet. With Morita skulking around, there are a few hints at something sinister, and when the film’s title finally appears onscreen things start to take a very different path. This will likely throw a lot of viewers way out of their comfort zone, though quite deliberately so, Keisuke Yoshida launching into a searing exploration of what defines good and evil, the film occupying an at times uncomfortable moral grey area that’s disturbingly matter of fact in its cruelties and horror. The four lead characters are all gradually revealed to be flawed in one way or another, none of them developing quite as expected, and while there is redemption of a sort, the film chiefly pushes for finding sympathy in the darkest of places. The struggle between the strong and the weak is key here, played out through the changing roles of the characters and revelations about their pasts, as is the question of how people can be transformed into monsters. It’s grim, upsetting stuff, all the more so for being believable and grounded.
The film is also very brutal indeed, with some genuinely shocking and graphic scenes of murder, torture and sexual violence. Eschewing the use of computer effects, Keisuke Yoshida sticks to more practical methods, and the many stabbings, beatings and mutilations are gruesomely realistic and come with a real visceral punch, in a way which is likely to make the film very tough going for some viewers. While the film features some extreme and sadistic content, there’s no glamorisation of its carnage, Yoshida’s direction being gritty and grounded, and this makes it more convincing than the kind of stylised and overly-choreographed havoc that’s so often seen in those of its type – even the intercutting of a loving sex scene with a torture murder works well in the context to add meaning.
All of this is anchored by some fantastic acting, with all the cast turning in great performances. Although not playing a terribly different role to the kind of bumbling everyman he’s best known for, Gaku Hamada is very likeable as Okada, and adds emotional depth and substance to what initially seems like a one-note part. Aimi Satsukawa and Tsuyoshi Muro also impress, similarly managing to elevate Yuka and Ando to more than the average romantic interest and comedy relief weirdo stereotypes. The film however belongs to Go Morita, who does an amazing job of distancing himself from his former boy band image as the unstable Morita, expressing a wide range of psychological states and emotions. Both terrifying and pitiful, his portrayal of a deeply traumatised man descending into frenzy is powerful and hard-hitting, switching between blank-faced nonchalance and malevolence.
Although not one for all viewers, Hime-Anole is a stunning effort from Keisuke Yoshida that burns itself into the brain. Shocking, surprising and moving, it’s a rough though rewarding ride that benefits from great character writing and some excellent performances from its cast.