Sophia's Cinematic Inspirations

I've always hated Geisha culture-- the objectification of women. Audition shows me that the world is changing everywhere, and the days of the lotus blossom who obeys her husband-master are over.

Mr. Aoyama is a successful middle-aged businessman who, after years of grieving the death of his beloved wife, decides to remarry. But he insists he wants to find the perfect wife-- one who is ideal in every conceivable way. But lacking the social skills to find such a wife on his own, he and his friend concoct a scheme to hold "auditions", where they ask actresses to come and audition for a part in a movie. Unbeknownst to the actresses, the movie does not exist-- the actresses are really auditioning for the role of Aoyama's future wife.

Aoyama is bored and unimpressed with every applicant until he meets Asami. She is much younger than him and seems to be the very icon of perfection. As his friend comments, Asami is "beautiful, classy and obedient"-- the perfect Japanese bride. Aoyama quickly becomes obsessed with her, and he decides to propose marriage, despite warnings from his friend that something "just isn't right" about Asami.

The first sign that Asami isn't what she seems comes when Aoyama and she go away together to a fancy hotel for the weekend. After they check in, Aoyama mumbles nervously about activities they could do during the weekend-- he mentions a museum, a hike, a fancy restaurant. Asami, without saying a word, aggressively stands up, turns off the lights, and then, as the old man continues to mumble, she suddenly and seductively disrobes. He is shocked, as he gazes at female perfection.

He starts to take off his clothes, but Asami orders him leave his clothes on, and just look at her body instead. Aoyama is in awe. He swears that he loves her, and only her. Finally they sleep together in a moment of pure bliss.

Aoyama suddenly awakes. He is naked and alone. Asami has left him, without any explanation, and disappeared. In the days and weeks that follow, he desperately tries to find her, but she has completely vanished. He doesn't know where she lives. He doesn't know how to find her. He doesn't know anything about her, except that he is obsessed with finding her again.

Reality begins to break down for Aoyama at this point. Is he insane? Drugged? We don't precisely know. He sees visions, dreams. At one point, he sees Asami vomiting into a dog bowl, which she then feeds to her "pet"-- a man she has severely mutilated to the point that he is crippled and barely human. More imagery.

Finally, a return to reality ensues and we see Aoyama in his home. He collapses on the floor, and in walks Asami. She has drugged him. As she explains "I've paralyzed your body, but your nerves are still awake, so you can enjoy the pain and suffer incredibly." She cuts his clothes off him, musing as she does,"You guys collect many girls from auditions. Make them fail. You contact them later, just wanting to have sex." Asami, it seems, is not a collectable.

She begins to torture him-- sticking needs in his chest, in his eyes. "Painful?" she asks, as Aoyama screams. "Words create lies. Pain can be trusted. You only realize what kind of a man you are when you feel pain, you understand. when you have a very agonizing experience."

Asami has more pain in store for him-- this time emotional pain. She coyly tells the paralyzed man on the floor "Your son has to suffer pain, then you'll understand more."

Aoyama screams "Stay away from my son". He has fallen into Asami's trap. She mocks him "You love your son too? You're a liar. 'You only love me', right? You have so many others. I don't want to be one of those. Even if I give you all of me, you won't be mine completely."

She muses over this to herself, for a moment, and then says,"You can't go anywhere without feet". She proceeds to, in near-orgasmic joy, saw off Aoyama's foot, as he screams in terror.

Audition is a great film. It's the Basic Instinct of Japan, and because Japan has such a patriarchal history, it's a million times better. Setting Asami up as this mousey, obedient little geisha, overjoyed at the chance that a big businessman would ever pay attention to her. Looks are not always what they seem, and Asami, it turns out, is a modern woman. She takes what she wants. She holds all the cards, she has all the power, and I hated the Japanese businessman culture enough that, even though I'm not much for administering physical pain, I honestly enjoyed the torture scene.

And I really identify with Asami-- the desire to have total control over another human being, to the point of possession. Her statement about how real pain is, in particular, echoed with me. "I love you" is cheap. Any man will profess love at the drop of a hat if he thinks there's some sex in it for him. I mean-- we all know that. But watch a man cry over you though-- seriously spilling tears that run down his cheeks because he can't have you. It's so real, it's so beautiful. When I tell a male I will never love him, and he sobs uncontrollably, spilling wet tears all down his face-- it is a moment of total honesty between two human beings. No games, no lies, just reality. He loves me, he wants me, and he is in pain because he will never be loved back by me. I, meanwhile, openly enjoy hurting him, I don't try to hide how much I enjoy his tears, I prick him and hurt him and say mean things to make him cry even more.

What is it that vanilla love relationships have that could possibly compare to the beauty and intensity and honesty of that moment?

I have really mixed feelings about adding this one, but I decided to add it. Basically, I liked the novel, while the film goes in a direction that might be good artistically, but makes it far less inspirational for me. Still, there's enough good parts that I thought I'd give it a mention.

Tracy Flick is the perfect high school student. She's ambitious, sexy, and successful . She leads all the important clubs, runs all the important meetings-- the kind of girl who edits the yearbook and stars in the musicals. So it's obvious that she's going to be elected Class President. As Tracy says: "You see, can't interfere with destiny. That's why it's destiny. and if you try to interfere, the same thing is gonna happen anyway. And you'll just suffer. "

The only thing is-- the previous year, Tracy spent her time seducing her geometry teacher. Unfortunately for him, he fell totally and completely in love with her. We see a great scene in the movie where the principal finds a love-letter that the geometry teacher wrote to Tracy where he BEGS her to run away with him. The principal bluntly asks the geometry teacher if he "crossed the line" here. The teacher PATHETICALLY blubbers the response "but we're in love". The teacher is fired, his wife leaves him taking their child, and the teacher's life is ruined, and he winds up moving back in with his parents.

So the following year, when ultra-perfect Tracy runs for president, the student government faculty advisor, Mr McAllister, is troubled. You see, poor Mr. McAllister has intense feelings about Tracy. On the one hand, he hates her. She's responsible for his best friend getting fired, getting humiliated,and getting divorced. On the other hand, he finds himself secretly desiring her. He dreams about her and then sneaks downstairs in the middle of the night to watch his hidden stash of porn tapes. Later, he begins to imagine Tracy whenever he has sex with his unattractive wife. Tracy represents everything he doesn't have, everything he can't have, everything he will never ever have. And so... Mr. McAllister decides he will sabotage Tracy, making sure she doesn't win the presidency. To this end, he convinces a popular football player into running against Tracy.

Tracy knows Mr. McAllister is a loser. "I mean, anyone who's stuck in the same little room saying the exact same things year after year for his whole life, wearing the same stupid clothes, while his students go on to good colleges and move to big cities and do great things and make loads of money has got to be at least a little jealous." She wryly observes,"the weak always try to sabotage the strong."

Suffice it to say, when weak Mr. McAllister becomes obsessed with stopping Tracy, he has meddled with forces that are out of his league. He begins a downward spiral that ultimately will destroy him. Soon he finds himself a divorced, fired loser, while Tracy is successful and wealthy. One day, he's walking the streets of Washington, a pathetic tourist, when he sees her getting into a limo, and in a fit of rage, throws his slurpee at her in one last pathetic attempt to sully her greatness.

The film takes liberties with the story that I disapprove of. Tracy isn't portrayed as popular. She isn't portrayed as sexually predatory. Her "loser guy-friend-who-does-whatever-she-says-because-he-secretly-loves-her", a staple of any hot girl in high school, isn't shown. Tracy is shown as being more the puppet of a pushy mother. But then, films are rarely as good as the books they are based upon.

Tracy has elements of me, but she's also very different. I wasn't at all into student government or yearbook or anything of that sort of nonsense-- those activities are mostly populated by sad overachievers who are desperate to get the approval of the teachers. But I _did_ have a teacher fired over falling in love with me. Of course, for me, it was very different than what is shown in this film-- there was no "relationship", and if there was a predatory element... I was the predator.

Holly is tired of living with her abusive drug-dealer boyfriend, so she decides to leave him. When he objects, she and her two friends beat him up. Holly hits him over the head with a baseball bat. When the boyfriend regains consciousness, he discovers that he's duct-taped to a chair, unable to move. As he sits there, pathetically groaning and writhing in anger, Holly taunts him by flashing her breasts to the man who is helpless and unable to touch them. "Don't tease the animals," laughs ones of Holly's friends. As a final parting gesture, Holly sits in the guy's lap and takes a Polaroid of herself posing next to the guy-- he's furious, and completely helpless.

The trio of woman drive off, leaving the guy to stew in his own anger and blood. Later in the film, we learn that the guy will ultimately die from the wounds they inflicted upon him.

It's just a short moment in a film, and I can't endorse the characters overall. But it reminds me of how much I love the angry but helpless male, who has been completely victimized. Traditional "BDSM scenes", of the sort a dominatrix might engage in, always seem devoid of that fury. A fly that knowingly walks into the spider's parlor is fun in one way, but the ferocity and terror of a usual-predator who one day finds himself helpless and at the mercy of another--- there's something so incredibly delicious about that. Hence why some of my favorite 'victims' are people who have never even heard of the world of sadomasochism. People who never imagined a woman half their size could cause them so much pain. People who never imagined they could get addicted to it.

"Miriam Blaylock is a beautiful yet dangerous vampire who invites a chosen few to be her human lovers, promising them eternal life... with a price." The price-- after a few centuries, the human lover will run out of lifeforce and will suddenly begin to age decades in mere days. When that happens, Miriam places the the dessicated, but still conscious, lover in a coffin, where they will be forever conscious and alive, but begging for death. And then, she begins the process of selecting a new lover to replace the one she lost.

Sarah, played by Susan Sarandon, is a biologist who has the privilege of being Miriam's next choice. After meeting Miriam for the first time, she begins to find herself growing more and more obsessed with thoughts of the beautiful creature. She imagines hearing the phone ringing, hoping somehow that it might be Miriam calling. She finds herself staring at other women at the swimming pool. In general, she can't stop thinking of Miriam.

Finally, she breaks down and shows up at Miriam's door. She openly, and bashfully, admits, "I don't really know why I'm here". Once inside, Miriam entertains her guest by playing a song on the piano.

"It's 'Lakme' by Delibes," Miriam explains. "Lakme is a Brahmin princess in India, she has a slave named Malika."

Sarah is drawn in by the beautiful music and asks, "Is it a love song?"

Coyly, Miriam dismissed the possibility: "I told you, it was sung by two women." Despite the denial, Sarah is insistent that the song sounds like a love song.

Then I suppose that's what it is," Miriam accepts. Sarah looks thrilled at the admission.

Sarah sits entranced until finally she works up the courage to ask the question that's on her mind. "Are you making a pass at me, Mrs. Blaylock?" Sarah asks.

Instead of answering, Miriam condescendingly corrects Sarah as to the proper way to address her: "Miriam" (as opposed "Mrs. Blaylock").

"Miriam," Sarah echos back, standing corrected, still waiting for a reply to her bold question. She looks as if her whole life hangs in the balance. Miriam again asserts her dominance.

"Not that I'm aware of, Sarah," Miriam finally responds. Somehow, her answer isn't entirely believable.

It's a wonderful scene.

I don't generally care for the vampire films. Invariably, they fall into one of two categories. Half are vehicles for sad, lonely, outcast types to pretend that they are really special, by showing them vampires who are sad and lonely and outcast, just like them! Think "Interview with a Vampire" here. This sub-genre is geared towards an audience of Emo kids who write bad poetry and think how they're SO different, just like all the other different losers like them.

Or, the vampire movie can be a cheesy way for people to experience a vicarious masochistic thrill without actually admitting they have submissive feelings. This constitutes the majority of vampire films, and practically ALL of the female-vampire films. These films annoy me because they invariably provide a supernatural 'excuse' for the victim's submission. Sometimes hypnosis. Sometimes the victim is asleep or unconscious. Sometimes just vague "vamp magic". What's really going on? The audience wants to enjoy the "ultra-sexy, evil woman" sensation and get a taste of being victimized by her, but they don't want to have to admit to themselves that they enjoy that victimization.

I have a perfect analogy here. "Good Girls" don't dress in a sexually provocative way. Instead, they're ordered to cover up-- "no short shorts, no tight pants, no short skirts, no cleavage, don't dress like a whore". 364 days of the year, the "Good Girls" obey these rules unquestioningly, willingly surrendering a great source of personal power and self-expression, veritable adherents of Muslim Sharia dress codes. 364 days of the year, they dress conservatively, because they don't want to be labeled a slut, a whore, a ho, easy, or what have you. But then, on Halloween, suddenly they are given 'permission' to dress like a complete slut, prancing around in public in lingerie, under the guise that it is a "costume".

It's not that conservative dress annoys me, it's not that provocative fashion annoys me. Both have their place. What I find sad and pathetic is, these women don't claim their own freedom to choose. They would never dress provocatively except on Halloween, even though they find that they love the thrill of such attire-- provided their society has promised them that "it's okay, it's just a costume".

Vampire movies are the same way. Béla Lugosi muses about music of the children of the night, and every woman with a submissive side begins to swoon. Guys watch a cinema vamp and go home and wank to the image of the fanged beauty. But in doing so, they have a complete lack of awareness that they actually are attracted to power, to cruelty, to evil, to victimization. Vampire movies give "permission" to the weak to enjoy their desires without having to look at their own reflections in the mirror and engage in a little introspection and admit their weakness. Vampire movies are a way for submissive people to hide from their true selves, because the vampire's tricks are done under the guise of magic and hypnosis and fictional, supernatural powers, rather than having a true portrayal of the very real, very factual power that strong, intelligent, beautiful women have over the weak.

And that's why I love The Hunger. Because in the seduction, there is no magic. There is no hypnosis, there is no trickery. It is an honest and sincere rendering of an innately strong woman as she seduces an inherently obedient female. The verisimilitude of The Hunger's seduction is really remarkable. The nervous tension in the weak one, the knowing confidence of the woman of strength. The games we play-- dangling desire, pulling it away, only to dangle it back again. Raising someone's hopes, then letting them crash, only to raise them again.

Vampirism is just a prop in The Hunger, a mere plot device. The real plot is a love story, a mindgame in motion picture. It is a work of art, and I bestow upon it the highest compliment I have-- parts of it remind me of myself.