Pleasures of the Flesh

Thrillers tend to be twisted affairs.  People's passions turning in upon themselves bitting like maddened snakes.  It often creates a sense of tragedy watching people following down a road that at best will lead to hell.  "Pleasures of the Flesh," a 1965 japanese film directed by Nagisa Oshima certainly follows this design and one ups it.  This is less "O. Henry," and more "Oh this cannot be any good whatsoever."

It begins with a long bit of narration, but don't let that put you off because really it sets it all up so very nicely.  Our "hero," played by Katsuo Nakamura, is obsessed and in love with Shoko.  He has known Shoko for years now being her tutor when she was in high school.  He would do anything for her.  Shoko, though, doesn't know his depth of feelings and wound up marrying another man.  This stings a lot for our hero because of what he did for Shoko that she doesn't know. 

He has killed for her.

Oh he deserved it.  He was a child molester who came back to black mail the family.  Our hero offed him when he wouldn't back off.  Now though, he was seen doing it.  But the person who saw him was also a crook and comes up with an interesting use for him.  He gives him 30 million yen because the crook is about to go to prison.  The deal is simple, don't touch the suitcase full of money while the crook is in jail, or else the crook will drop a dime on who killed the child molester.

Unfortunately, after watching Shoko getting married, our hero no longer cares about living.  Knowing that the crook still has a year left in jail, he decides to spend all the money then kill himself.  He's doing this as a grand gesture, though really a card might have been better.  He starts paying a series of women a million yen a month to sleep with him.  This doesn't work out so well and he gets involved with even more shadey Yakuza type.  At the end, Shoko comes to him having heard he has lots of money.  Unfortunately, he had already spent that money on his big grand gesture. 

Let's just say the meeting doesn't go well.

Pleasures of the flesh is a noirish film that almost reaches an operatic level of self pity and excess.  Fair to say, I liked it.