HOUSE OF SAND AND SAND AND SAND... Saw Woman in the Dunes with the Vivster at Doc Films last night. Viv and I were cruelly foiled in our first attempt to see the film at Doc a little more than two weeks ago. Everything was going just fine, and then, as the film was reaching one of its most dramatic moments, the lights came up and the screen's curtain closed. One of students in charge of the screening said something to the effect that since it was a long film, there would be a five minute intermission. The projectionist quickly contradicted this wag, stating that they had not received the third reel of film, so there would be no need for an intermission. We all grumbled to the pasty undergrads in charge and they promised another screening.

Doc did deliver another screening, but I don't think it was the full-length cut of the film. Oh, well, perhaps the folks at Criterion could take a break from transferring every frickin' Seijin Suzuki film to DVD and make time for this one.

Plot: An entomologist from Tokyo travels to a remote seaside region of Japan hoping to discover a new species of insect that will bring him fame in the bug world. As the sun is setting, local villagers approach him, asking him where he will stay for the night. The scientist realizes that he has missed the last bus back to his hotel and readily accepts the villagers' offer to put him up in one of their houses. Dude, baaad move. The villagers lower the entomologist by rope to a strange hut at the bottom of a sand pit. A woman lives there. She prepares food for the man and refers to him as guest or helper.

The next day, the scientist quickly realizes that he has been tricked into staying with the woman. The woman and he are expected to clear the sand that is constantly threatening to swallow her house. She tells the scientist that this will somehow prevent the other villagers's homes from collapsing. The man at first fights against this fate, but gradually comes to accept it.

I'm on the fence about Woman in the Dunes. Overall, I liked it, but I do think it's a case of style over substance. The film was shot in high-contrast black and white giving it a stark, but beautiful look. The director and photographer create a very palpable world out of sand, wind, and human flesh. The film has such physical immediacy that you think you can see each individual grain of sand. The actors are lit in such a way that their bodies have a sexy glow and the interaction between the sand and their skin becomes intensely sensual. A scene where the woman bathes the man is especially erotic.

The film's visuals are not only intensely real, but also abstract. There are enormous close-ups that focus in on parts of the actors's bodies or the patterns made by the wind on the sand. The film-makers seem to have delighted in making this film, in how light and shape look when photographed by a camera. But isn't that a problem? I think the point of the story is to make us feel uncomfortable in this strange world of sand, to make us feel how monotonous it looks and how maddening its sameness is. Instead, they make it look beautiful, undercutting the existential horror that is lurking in the background of the story. This leads me to a more subsatntive criticism of the film.

I took Woman in the Dunes to be an allegory about the meaninglessness of human life. The entomologist is at first shocked to discover that the woman's existence revolves around clearing sand from her home, but eventually realizes that his life has been just as pointless. He has devoted himself to the study of insects, is that any better than shoveling sand? He hasn't even been able to get his name in an entomology textbook. The scientist fights against this realization for a while, trying to find a way out of his predicament. He ties the woman up, drinks and smokes, refuses to clear the sand, and in one of the more exciting sequences of the film, briefly escapes the pit. All his flailing about is to no avail, and he gradually comes to accept his fate. The entomologist's accedence isn't portrayed in a positive light, he is a pathetic, broken figure by the film's end.

The problem with the film's argument for the meaninglessness of life is that it is shallow and contradictory. It's very easy to say that life is meaningless, in fact, it's somewhat irrefutable. Who really knows if life has any meaning? But the film-makers did seem to take quite a bit of pleasure in making Woman in the Dunes. Almost every shot is striking and carefully crafted. So, I wonder how the film-makers could go to such trouble to create something so beautiful, yet still insist that existence is meaningless. I guess this comes down to personal beliefs. I believe that life may very well be meaningless, but that you can find meaning in it. Whether it's stamp collecting, badminton playing, or even going to the movies, I think there's meaning to be had everywhere. The film-makers insist that all of life is meaningless, that you cannot find meaning in anything. By way of illustration, near the end of the film the entomologist discovers that water condenses in a bucket that he leaves out in the sand. He becomes fascinated with this process to the exclusion of all else. The film-makers choose to portray his obsession in an absurd, futile light. It's not just that his life and, by implication, our lives are pointless, it's that everything we do is pointless. I just don't agree with this idea. To insist that life is meaningless because we aren't told its meaning is just shallow nihilism.

By the way, I don't usually intend to review older films in this blog. It's, of course, not that I have anything against older films. It's just that I can see myself going from reviewing currently playing films, to older films, to really great films on DVD, to the Chronicles of Riddick. It's a slippery slope, people.  ¶ 10:26 AM