Page 47 - Nightmare Japan Contemporary Japanese Horror Cinema
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34                                            Nightmare Japan

                                     As  if  in  recognition  of  the  imagined  ‘dangers’  that  may
                              accompany this potential reversal of social power, the killer in Flowers of
                              Flesh  and  Blood  wears  samurai  armor,  a  black  leather  butcher’s  apron,
                              and latex  gloves throughout  the  lengthy  dismemberment  sequences;  in  a
                              similar fusion of the traditional and the modern, he wields a battle axe, an
                              assortment of rusty tools, and a variety of contemporary surgical utensils
                              against  his  victim’s  prone  and  securely  tied  body.  While  clearly
                              reminiscent  of  the  previously  discussed  inclination  within  Japanese
                              popular culture  to  envision  a  homogenous  past, a ‘relentlessly obsessive
                              “return”  to  “origins”’  (Harootunian  1989:  66),  Flowers  of  Flesh  and
                              Blood’s conflation of historical (and cinematic) signifiers likewise calls to
                              mind  what  Christopher  Sharrett  calls  postmodernism’s  ‘catastrophe’,  a
                              condition defined as ‘the simultaneous affirmation and denial of historical
                              views of reality, the nostalgia for the past simultaneous with its derision,
                              and  the  constant  attempt  to  prop  up  mythic  readings  of  history  even  as
                              they are seen as risible’ (1999: 421).
                                     This  catastrophic  ‘will-to-myth’  about  which  Sharrett  writes  –
                              the  impulse  to  ‘legitimate  false  consciousness  and  to  reassert  primitive
                              views  of  human  interchange’  (422),  including  torture  and  murder  –
                              underlies  Hino’s  vision  of  corporeal  apocalypse  in  which  the  bound
                              physiognomy  of  the  female  victim  is  methodically  annihilated.  In  its
                              depiction  of  historically-coded  Japanese  iconography  (the  figure  of  the
                              samurai), as well as in its visual, verbal, and poetic allusions to traditional
                              Japanese  ritual (hara kiri is, as Hunter notes, the most obvious), the film
                              evokes nostalgia for an idealised, if illusory, past at once longed  for and
                              yet  impossible  to  recover.  While  attired  in  samurai  armor  made
                              ridiculously  anachronistic  given  the  dilapidated  urban  environment  in
                              which he ‘operates’, the killer seems to be literally rotting away from the
                              inside-out, especially in close ups that reveal stained and broken teeth, as
                              well  as  blood-spattered  skin  flaking  beneath  a  thin  layer  of  powder.
                              Though suggestive of ritualistic suicide ‘marked by religious ecstasy’, the
                              captive  woman’s  bloody  ‘flowers’  (her  glistening  internal  organs)  are
                              harvested  non-consensually  through  violence  rather  than  ‘offer[ed]  up’
                              (Hunter  1998:  160)  voluntarily.  The  euphoric  expression  on  her  face  is
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