Directed by: Hitoshi Mastumoto
Starring: Nao Ohmori, Mao Daichi, Hairi Katagiri
Release Date: Available on DVD and digital download March 10th
“We enter fire imbibed, heavenly, thy sanctuary…”
Hitoshi Matsumoto’s sexploitative R100 quotes Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, “Ode to Joy.” Whether or not you enter R100 imbibed, you’re sure to walk out of it with a hangover.
Takafumi Katayama (Nao Ohmori of Ichi the Killer) is a somber father of a young boy, Arashi. His father-in-law watches Arashi while Takafumi works long hours as a furniture store salesman. Actually, not all of those long hours are spent pushing kingsized beds. Some are spent getting publicly humiliated by leather-clad dominatrices hired from hole-in-the-wall BDSM solicitor Bondage.
When you sign a contract with Bondage, you set up a time and place with a Queen. She meets you there and kicks you down stone steps. Or repeatedly smashes your sashimi in a sushi joint. Or beats you up in a van. And if you’re Takafumi, it turns you on. To a finish.
When we meet Takafumi’s comatose wife, he appears less respectable. Why is he still turned on by these dangerous rendezvous when the dominatrices show up unannounced at the hospital, Takafumi’s house, and his job. They threaten his relationships and livelihood.
Authors of grind house rely on outlandishness. R100 is no different. Matsumoto wanders the back alleys of pop culture in the last half of the film, introducing government agents, grenades, and a potty-mouthed, buxom American CEO named CEO. But “meta” saves the day. We’re not the only ones screening the film. And some of the burning questions you have will at least be, if not answered, asked. Your curiosity to continue is validated.
Japanese films are rated R-15 or R-18. R100 exceeds those ratings. You’re told you won’t understand it until you’re 100 years of age anyway. Should you live that long, you might get the opportunity to make sense of it all, if there’s any sense to be made.
Impossible to decipher, but crazy enough to keep on, the film might pay homage to the canon of Japanese exploitation movies of yore. Without knowledge of that niche past, most of R100 flies overhead. But its insoluble laughs are worth the watch.
