im only posting this because now i am SCARED and i live alone. so someone please help. but i don't mean that in an i am actually a ghost and this review isn't real kind of way. this review is not haunted and you are also not being haunted. at least by me. currently. anyway, i have been scared by this film.
glacial entropic drone gender sliding forever into maximum cold/inertia, the non-organic vitalities of moving waves & wind, the liminal embodiment of ghosts (both body & not), embodiment as ultradysphoric rift: seeing your face/body & feeling complete and total disconnect. anti-form/no form. maladaptive self-induced starvation as revenge on embodiment & imposed mediation by culture/reality itself. the elemental terror of eating to sustain a body. queer death impulse as ultimate refusal. retching on cake. i have never resonated more with a movie than when laura peels off her own skin. being seen as being set on fire. hating your body and what living requires, nonetheless, choosing to stay in it. maximum alienation.
Sixty in September: 10/60
There are so many things to be fascinated by in this beautiful, wild movie, but two things really stick out to me. Obayashi talks about them in the interview on the Criterion materials:
One is the war and the atomic bombings. Obayashi is originally from Hiroshima. He says, quietly and candidly, that most his friends didn't survive the bombings, as a child. The second is Obayashi's sense of how children view and experience the world. He…
Ana's spectral screams as she flows and dances like a ghoul in the subway. All I could do was cry at it, with her, for her. Some freeing thing and all the bindings too coming up as blood and spit. Woman spirit birthed up from the grave womb of the earth.
There are doppelgangers and spies and the shadow of the Wall and monsters and eyes. The man with pink socks. And it is so profoundly sad. It's…