Funeral Parade of Roses (薔薇の葬列)

  • 薔薇の葬列 (Funeral Parade of Roses)

7/16/21 (Fri)

Matsumoto Toshio’s uncategorizable 1969 film about “gay boys”, a phrase used here mainly to refer to transvestites or male-to-female transgenders (the line isn’t clearly drawn). Having just seen John Cassavetes’ fragmented Shadows of ten years earlier, I thought I was ready for anything, but this psychedelic romp steps even further into the Twilight Zone. It’s drawn loosely from Oedipus Rex, which forms a framework of sorts, but that’s hardly the point in this house-of-mirrors experience.

The nominal story, set in contemporary Tokyo, revolves around the young and beautiful bar “hostess” Eddie (i.e., Oedipus – get it?), who is battling the bar’s aging kimono-clad Mama-san for the affections of an older gent. Eddie, whose long-absent father exists in his mind only as an old photo with the face burnt out, is haunted by memories of his mother laughing at his effeminate nature, beating him mercilessly after catching him putting on makeup, and screaming in horror as he stabs her to death when he finds her with a man (whom he also murders). Somehow he has found his way into Tokyo’s underground gay world, where he reigns as the most popular hostess at his bar among businessmen looking for a thrill. He ultimately wins the older gent, unwittingly causing the distraught Mama-san to commit suicide, and takes over the bar. Anyone familiar with Oedipus can see the rest coming, but it follows it more closely than I had imagined (too closely, to be honest) with one real shocker a la Buñuel in an expressionistic ending. Let’s just say that I’m glad the film’s in black-and-white.

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A Cornered Rat Dreams of Cheese (窮鼠はチーズの夢を見る)

  • 窮鼠はチーズの夢を見る (A Cornered Rat Dreams of Cheese)

10/5/20 (Mon), Tokyo

Yukisada Isao’s adaptation of a best-selling BL (boy’s love) manga. For the uninitiated, BL are comic series written by women and for women focused on love affairs among males, not necessarily gay. The former sub-genre is now a genre of its own and a full-fledged phenomenon. The idealized portrait of men falling for each other allows the overwhelmingly female readership to fantasize about sex while remaining apart from it. It shares that quality in a way with the all-female Takarazuka and all-male Kabuki theaters, where the knowledge that all characters are being played by performers of the same gender (and the restrictions that places on intimate scenes) ensures that love affairs remain in the realm of fancy. (A recent NHK television series featured a fervent BL fan who becomes disgusted when she discovers that her supposed boyfriend is gay – she can accept male-on-male sex only on the page. She eventually sees the error of her ways, of course, and they live happily ever after as best friends.) I was dragged by a friend to the theater, where I was the only male in the house as well as the only non-Asian. I pulled my mask up tight.

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