Rating: 4.5/5
Hooptober 3.0 | 12/31 | Countries 5/6 | Japan
TW: Self-Harm
Make a living… work… and so forth.
Kotoko (Cocco) works in a shop, delicately underlining “Sale” on notices. When she looks up, she notices a man with his son. Her eyes shift to her left. She sees the man again, standing and staring at her. While one version of the father laughs with his child, the other grows angry and charges after her. She recoils, expecting a blow, but nothing happens.
I see double. I can't tell which one is real. I must stay alert — otherwise, I could die.
Back home, she sets down her keys and removes her ring — a fake wedding band she wears to deter men. She takes a knife to her inner arm, next to older scars, and lets the blood run down her forearm.
I just need to confirm if I'm still allowed to exist.
Kotoko is a single mother with an infant son named Daijiro. She worries about people taking Daijiro from her.
He totally relies on me, trusting his tiny life to my frail arms. What if I let my arms go? What if I open my arms a little? He'll fall. He'll fall if I let him.
She goes on the roof with the baby and drops him off. When she comes to, she screams and begs her neighbors to call an ambulance. When she gets to the ground floor, she doesn’t see him. She returns to her apartment and finds him lying in the living room.
She holds Daijiro while trying to cook a meal. He screams at the sound of the sizzling wok and the steam. When the meal finishes cooking, she tries to pour the food onto a plate but drops the wok on her feet. Frustrated, she screams and throws the wok through a window.
Her neighbors call the authorities, believing she is abusing Daijiro.
Kotoko’s sister takes the child. After some time, they allow her to see Daijiro, but leaving him again only makes her feel worse.
She intends to end her life — until a man named Seitaro Tanaka (Shinya Tsukamoto) shows up and takes an interest in her.
Cocco, a professional singer, wrote the story, composed the music, and handled the art direction for the movie. She has a specific vision for this character and gives us so much empathy and care for her.
The story explores the fear of not trusting yourself or your perception of the world.
Shinya Tsukamoto’s frenetic style of filmmaking heightens the hallucinations and moments of despair into a full-blown horror show.
These moments contrast eloquently with the soft moments of love with Daijiro, and when Kotoko sings — her singing is the only thing that stops the doubles.
The resulting film is a brilliant depiction of a narrator so unreliable that we cannot trust anything we see on screen. More importantly, it showcases a character we understand and care for, regardless of her experience.
The depictions of self-harm are unflinching. They border on tasteless but further emphasize the level of disassociation Kotoko experiences. The film also explodes into other forms of violence as Kotoko’s relationship with Tanaka grows increasingly violent. We need to see the word she sees, as fucked up as it may be.
Tracking the passage of time is difficult until we see Daijiro again. Every time Kotoko sees him, he’s older.
This film is an impossible film to make — I’ve seen similar attempts that err into either saccharine or edgelord territory. The movie remains in a constant place of uncertainty, disquiet, and naked emotion that hit me like nothing else has.