Go, Go, Second Time Virgin is disturbing and affecting only if one takes it as a dream, or as it subsumed me in the uncomfortable and repetition of a nightmare. You don't follow this story in terms of realism, especially in terms of human behavior, and yet I don't look at these figures on the screen, Poppo (Kozakura) and Tsukio (Akiyama), like they're some unrecognizable beings or aliens from another planet. They're traumatized figures from multiple rapes (one of which the opening of the scene, letting the audience know precisely what this is) and, as we come to find out, a vengeance-soaked mild-mannered killer (ain't they the peachy keen folks), and their bond after Tsukio stands by and sees Poppo raped and doesn't do anything is to talk about how much they want to die.
So, maybe this is also the dream or nightmare of unending and the blackest kind of despair. But it is also shot in this sort of detached Godardian French New Wave approach where things are on such a surreal pace and tone that it feels like every rule is broken in filmmaking so that we can see what makes the traumatized and criminals of the world tick. When these two talk with one another it is all of a randomized piece, like all these violent and bloodied forms make sense even as nothing makes sense.
In a deeper sense, and I may just be spitballing here, the director is looking to portray how minds become wholly discombobulated after traumatic events (as perpetrated or perpetrator), how the only way to communicate and be connected is through a desire for an end to it all (and, eventually, there's unbridled joy in the mania of violence). This apparently ranked in the top 100 list of the New Republic's best Political films ever made some years back, and I can see why that would rank in there. In the sense that is is a harrowing, bitter document of politics, it js about how a destructive force like rapists and a vengeful killer can't and wont stop. And just because one takes it as a jazz-scored chiaroscuro nightmare doesn't make it feel less palpable.
Again, light stuff. I dont think this is something you would even come to unless you know what to expect, but what makes the film so surprising is that the director Wakamatsu, working in the form of Exploitation (and this was released as a "Pink" film or what was close to a Dirty Movie in Japan in those days) uses the wide-screen frame fully and boldly, and the fact that he shot this in four days and got all those shots in the rain is radical by itself. In other words, what at least partially redeems this as something other than just misery porn are things like the sudden song, and how he cast the film and directs Kozakura and especially Akiyama (who strikes me as one of the most chilling Killers in post modern cinema because of his mild demeanor).
Not something I can exactly see myself watching again in a while (one of those excellently made, artistically defiant works), but it is one I'm glad I took a chance on from the Japan section at Kim's.
So, maybe this is also the dream or nightmare of unending and the blackest kind of despair. But it is also shot in this sort of detached Godardian French New Wave approach where things are on such a surreal pace and tone that it feels like every rule is broken in filmmaking so that we can see what makes the traumatized and criminals of the world tick. When these two talk with one another it is all of a randomized piece, like all these violent and bloodied forms make sense even as nothing makes sense.
In a deeper sense, and I may just be spitballing here, the director is looking to portray how minds become wholly discombobulated after traumatic events (as perpetrated or perpetrator), how the only way to communicate and be connected is through a desire for an end to it all (and, eventually, there's unbridled joy in the mania of violence). This apparently ranked in the top 100 list of the New Republic's best Political films ever made some years back, and I can see why that would rank in there. In the sense that is is a harrowing, bitter document of politics, it js about how a destructive force like rapists and a vengeful killer can't and wont stop. And just because one takes it as a jazz-scored chiaroscuro nightmare doesn't make it feel less palpable.
Again, light stuff. I dont think this is something you would even come to unless you know what to expect, but what makes the film so surprising is that the director Wakamatsu, working in the form of Exploitation (and this was released as a "Pink" film or what was close to a Dirty Movie in Japan in those days) uses the wide-screen frame fully and boldly, and the fact that he shot this in four days and got all those shots in the rain is radical by itself. In other words, what at least partially redeems this as something other than just misery porn are things like the sudden song, and how he cast the film and directs Kozakura and especially Akiyama (who strikes me as one of the most chilling Killers in post modern cinema because of his mild demeanor).
Not something I can exactly see myself watching again in a while (one of those excellently made, artistically defiant works), but it is one I'm glad I took a chance on from the Japan section at Kim's.