La Femme du sable

This classic film is one of the few to still live up to the name of "perfect film". Everything in the film is perfectly controlled and at the same time so natural.

The story involves an amateur entomologist captured in a giant sand pit somewhere on the coast of a small Japanese island. He tries to escape but a mysterious woman and some nasty villagers keep pulling him back in.

Despite being made in the early sixties this film still packs a dose of eroticism that most contemporary filmmakers pray to achieve. The black and white cinematography is absolutely haunting (watch out for poor video copies which are way too dark, there is a new DVD out which shows what the original print intended)

This is about as close as you can get to a perfect film. There is nothing that could ever be improved upon.

Harsh and beautiful analysis of existentionalism. All the Sartrean trappings along with an element of Camus are presented in this film better than any other I know. The realization that life is absurd leads the main character to venture towards trying to make meaning out of what is essentially meaninglessness. The intersubjective relationship between man and woman is examined both erotically and violently while the villagers play the crucial role of the everpresent Other. Disturbing ending only underlies the overpowering presence of the sand dunes. The sand being the strongest metaphor in the film, illustrating the belief that life is nothing but a giant and endless egg-timer flowing sand down upon us. Highly recommended.

In my interpretation this movie is a reflection on Zen philosophy: Just like Zen monks that sweep the courtyards of monasteries and devote themselves to the most humble tasks to find inner harmony, Niki finds inner rest in the daily work of removing the sand, solving water supply problems and living a confined live. The movie suggests the modern lives we live in the big cities isolate us from our needs and ourselves. Just like a Zen garden, that is designed to mirror nature and men, the people in the dunes reflect our daily struggles and confinements. The surreal setting is a necessity to convey the message of the film. There is nothing goofy about the pits and how people behave in there. It is just hard for us western people to see the transcendence there.

I watched this movie on a Japanese Film Festival in Berlin in 1993. I can't remember all the details but the movie really mesmerized me. It is a very unique work and I wonder why it doesn't have the cult status of other movies.

I'd wanted to see this movie for years, and finally got around to it, on DVD. What a treat! I was glad to discover that the erotic element, though important, is not the predominant draw here; typically, some references to the film make it sound as though it were some forbidden erotic romp, or full of perverse sexuality. Instead I found myself wrapped up in a creepy suspense-thriller sci-fi-fantasy carried off with wit, style, and extraordinarily interesting photography (including one scene that, at least on my set, was completely black for a couple of minutes).

I voted "nine" for this wonderful film, in part because it left me with a lot to think about, in part just for how well it was made. The music by Toru Takemitsu is absolutely perfect for the task, too.

This is just about my favorite kind of film: one that raises important questions about human life, but not at the expense of entertainment. It's as close as I'll probably ever come to having my cake and eating it, too.

Update, January 2007: I finally obtained my own DVD of this film, one with much higher quality photographic reproduction. I now marvel even more at the extraordinarily creative photography. Be sure, if you view this on DVD, not to boost your set's brightness: I can assure you the film is very, very dark on purpose. If possible, see it on a high-definition monitor. Today, I'd vote "ten."

Hiroshi Teshigahara's "Woman in the Dunes" is truly a unique movie. It's about an entomologist who goes on a holiday, only to find himself trapped in huge sand pit with a woman. The woman has no will to get out of the sand (it's been "broken"--like that of a stable horse--no doubt), but he refuses to live a "meaningless" life in the sand pit (like the woman). He tries to get out, but it's all in vain: the wall of sand is an impenetrable barrier between him and his "freedom." And so the story goes. The sand pit, I guess, is a metaphor for humanity's existentialist plight. Like the mythological Sisyphus, who was condemned for eternity to roll a rock to the top of a hill only to have it roll back down again, the two characters in this film dig sand out of their pit--but the sand keeps coming back....which raises the question: If life is meaningless--as Satre and Camus have said--what will we do? Do we keep digging? Do we opt for suicide instead? Or what? This is one of those films that haunt you after you see it; you'll keep thinking of it during subsequent days and even weeks. It is also distinguished by its luscious and crisp black and white deep focus photography. "The Woman in the Dunes" is (sadly) a far too little-known cinematic treasure that is thought-provoking, beautiful, erotic, and even eerie. Once you see it, you won't soon forget it.