LOVE HOTEL Review: Elevated Pinku Movie, Rising Above Genre Trappings

Sômai Shinji, known for his idiosyncratic, delicate coming-of-age films, such as Sailor Suit and Machine Gun (1981), P.P. Rider (1983), Typhoon Club (1985) and Moving (1989), recently had his work re-evaluated, subsequently restored, then released in physical media and in theaters, thanks largely to a recent retrospective of his work, Rites of Passage: The Films of Shinji Sômai at Japan Society, here in New York.

With plenty of admirers in contemporary Japanese cinema, including directors Hamaguchi Ryusuke and Kurosawa Kiyoshi, Sômai is now regarded as the unsung hero of 1980s Japanese cinema.

Cinema Guild, which has released the 4K restored version of Typhoon Club on disc, and Moving in theaters, is set to release the restored version of Sômai's foray into pinku genre, Love Hotel, the only Roman Porno film he ever directed for Nikkatsu Studio. And the film, besides the obvious sex scenes and nudity that are required in pinku genre, retains all the Sômai signatures; that's what makes Love Hotel rise above and beyond its genre trappings.

Love Hotel tells a story of two broken people and their fateful encounter. Muraki (Terada Midori), a small-time publisher owing money to yakuza loan sharks, returns to his squalid office one day and finds his wife having sex with one of the yakuza men, while others look on. And by the looks of it, she is enjoying it. He decides to end it all.

Muraki goes to the titular hotel room, written in green neon light on the wall. With dark glasses on, he waits for a prostitute he hired from the escort service. Unsuspecting Nami (Hayami Noriko) shows up for some fun. Muraki attacks Nami, violently ripping her clothes off with a knife, with an intention to kill her and then off himself as well. But it's the expression on her face -- agony and extasy -- that changes his mind.

Two years later, Muraki is a cab driver and Nami works at a fashion designer agency. Still reeling from his destitution and guilt, he wants to reconnect with Nami, after he spots her on the street. She, on the other hand, while keeping her past life secret, is carrying out an unhappy affair with a married man (her boss).

Muraki gives Nami, who doesn’t recognize him, a ride to the Yokohama pier. She is going there to commit suicide. But he prevents her attempt at the pier and confesses his past transgression. At first, paranoid Nami suspects Muraki of blackmailing her about her past. But soon she sees his sincerity,  that there is no ulterior motive in his actions, and learns to trust him. As they grow closer, she feels understood and loved. Now they try to finish what they started, at the same love hotel where they first met.

Sômai elevates the typical pinku melodrama premise into a heartfelt tale of two sad, lost souls in need of salvation in each other’s company. His signature long takes are there, so are his always moving crane shots. Also present are neon and rain soaked cramped tokyo interiors and lonely, empty liminal urban spaces at night. Accompanied by sultry pop ballads, with strong, natural performances by both Hayami and Terada, Love Hotel sits comfortably along the echelon of Sômai's impressive filmography.

Love Hotel opens Friday, April 4, at Metrograph in New York City. Visit their official site for showtimes and more information.

Dustin Chang is a freelance writer. His musing and opnions on cinema and beyond can be found at dustinchang.com