Jump, Jump, Jump
When I think of Japan, my mind drifts to sushi, manga, and suicide. It’s a country of pure contrasts, where neon lights pulse with life, yet shadows loom just as brightly. Recently, I watched Sion Sono’s cult masterpiece Suicide Club, a delirious descent into the bizarre phenomenon of mass suicides sweeping the East Asian nation. The film from 2001, featuring appearances by Ryo Ishibashi, Akaji Maro, and Masatoshi Nagase, unfolds like a sinister puzzle, with Detective Kuroda and his team fumbling through a trail of cryptic clues: Rancid sports bags, clunky early-internet websites, and a deeply unnerving pop idol group that’s equal parts saccharine and sinister. And I love it.
The opening scene is burned into my head: Dozens of uniformed schoolgirls, hands clasped and faces alight with giddy laughter, throwing themselves in front of a speeding subway train. Blood sprays across the station like something out of a grotesque art installation. It’s horrifying, absurd, and iconic - a tone-setter for the ride that follows. From there, the movie spirals into a dizzying blend of splatter gore, J-pop surrealism, and psychological labyrinths. What’s it all about? The search for identity? Love? Friendship? Or is it just a meditation on flesh? Sion Sono doesn’t hand out answers. Instead, he dares me to sit with the madness and draw my own conclusions.
There’s something inconceivably irresistible about shows and movies set in Tokyo right around the turn of the millennium. Foldable phones snapping shut with satisfying clicks, Eurobeat tracks pumping through crowded arcades, schoolgirls in sailor suits dashing to catch the last train - it was the very last time when Japan felt like the epicenter of cool, a fever-dream era that unfortunately will never quite return. Suicide Club captures that strange moment perfectly, preserving it in all its chaotic, messy glory. And if there’s one message I take away from this twisted gem, it’s that you have to treat life like a write-once hard drive. Although, it would be nice to forget the bad things.