Suicide Club

Kill yourself! Kill yourself! Jesus loves you! Oops, that was a typo. Sorry, but I've had those words stuck in my head since I read them. It makes me long for the days of "look at all the little fishies..."

Last night I re-watched an excellent Japanese horror film, Suicide Club. Spoiler alert – if you’re planning to watch it, skip to the next paragraph. The movie starts well, with a gory mass suicide involving 54 Japanese high school girls in their darling uniforms and a fast-moving train. I can’t help it that when I look at young J-hotties in those uniforms, my guy brain does the standard evaluation – Can I mate with it? Can I have it for lunch? – and the answer to both questions is “Hai”. That’s “Yes” to you fecking ignorant Westerners.

Note – if you haven’t seen a J-horror film and you have a reasonably strong constitution, I suggest you watch Suicide Club, Battle Royale, and Ichi the Killer (the last is particularly graphic). BR is arguably more action than horror, but it works on both levels. If you’ve never seen a J-horror film then you probably don’t know this is one area in which the Japanese have a clear advantage over us. American horror films of the 70’s (our golden era for that genre) were designed to make your date cling to your arm during the show and possibly give you nightmares. Modern horror is basically teenie comedy with a little whitewashed violence added to the mix. J-horror, on the other hand, attempts to psychologically scar you for life.

When asked the difference between fiction and reality, a famous author (I don’t remember who) said “Fiction has to make sense.” Apparently nobody told the Japanese. My favorite J-horror films have been bloody, erotic (maybe that’s just me and my predilection for cute little J-corpses), thought-provoking, and have left me wondering “What happened?” when they’re through. Last night’s second viewing of Suicide Club didn’t reveal any more to me than the first viewing. I wonder if I’ll understand it better the next time (and yes, there will be a next time).

In last night’s cerebral assault (don’t worry, I won’t give away any more of the plot) a woman finds herself the prisoner of a guy and his minions. The dude can best be described as a blonde Japanese Johnny Depp. While in his pleasure room (his words – the room is actually a bowling alley with a throne and littered with victims, live and dead, human and animal, whole and dismembered, all wrapped in sheets), he grabs a guitar and begins to sing to her. I thought “Yes! That’s what was missing – a musical number. Also J-boobies.” The music I can only describe as slow techno-rock, the band comprised of his guitar and an accompanying organ. As they played, he sang the following ditty:

Time and time again the sky is blue
And yet it's strange how people seem to always fall in love
An unfamiliar yellow dog
Keeps grinning as it tears us from the ones we love

(refrain - in English)
Because (the) dead
Because (the) dead
Because (the) dead shine all night long

I want to die as beautifully as Joan of Arc
Inside a Bresson film
Lesson one, apply the shaving cream
And smile as you then slowly slice away the heart

(refrain - in English)

Feel the warmth of the spring rain as it gently moistens down a cheek
That's streaked with dried up tears
A guileless boy but five years old stares blankly in the face of death
While his heart is cut and torn away.

(refrain - in English)

Note - a girl is being stabbed to death while this is being sung. Further note – now my brain can’t stop repeating the refrain. It’s an improvement.

I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly certain that song makes no sense in any language. A lot of Japanese music strikes me that way – it’s filled with powerful (sometimes discordant) imagery, but as a whole it doesn’t follow a clear line of logic. And yet I like it anyway. If only the Japanese could manufacture some decent heavy metal (and if you try to tell me about the band Loudness, it only proves you don’t understand the concept of good HM).

Another good example of confusing Japanese art comes from the movie Dead or Alive 2. The characters wrote and performed a play for small children, wherein one guy dressed as a lion assaulted a character that looked like a flower / bird combination with a flashlight for a penis. The lion and other animals yanked his glowing penis away, smashed it on the floor, and then gang-clobbered and kancho’d Flower Bird into submission. Afterward they stood, faced the enthusiastic crowd, and informed them that strength and courage will always win in the end.

Clearly I’m writing in the wrong country. Lack of imagination has never been my problem. My problem is putting it all into a coherent form. But since the Japanese have no need for sense, I went ahead and wrote an episode for a children’s show.

Opening scene: a stage littered with disparate objects (doesn’t matter what – just root through the dumpster behind the studio). The narrator, wearing bicycle shorts, clown shoes, a puffy shirt, and a Samurai helmet, goose-steps onto the stage singing the following song I wrote all by myself:

Rocks fall through the ether
Like dying rain in an afterbirth
Mentally, I shelve the marmalade
Like, you know, whatever.
(repeat repeatedly)

He then produces a chainsaw and dismantles a bowl of porridge.

Break for commercial.

When we return, we see that he is now being assisted by a J-hottie in a schoolgirl’s uniform with a fish strapped to her head. They demonstrate Japan’s legal infrastructure using rice crackers and wasabi as she exclaims “Fooooo!” every time he makes a point. She laughs and leaves as he removes his shorts and sets fire to his underwear. As the credits begin to roll, he looks at the camera and delivers the day’s lesson: “All you need is love.”

I’ll write the next episode during my tea break.

I would go to Japan and become a script writer, but I’m worried about looking like a complete fool (as opposed to a partial fool) if I’m interviewed:
J-hottie: You are such a brilliant gaijin! Tell me, how did the wasabi on the girl’s nipples represent the Japanese concept of justice?
Me: Actually, even I don’t know what I was saying.

Final note – a lot of words in Japanese are obviously English in origin, and the amount of Engrish in their language is increasing. If I wait a few years, I can probably go to Japan and just speak English like everybody else. Good timing too, since America is converting to Spanish. :p