Herutâ sukerutâ

While I love this line, I am on the fence about loving the entire film. It was dark, for that I give it all the credit in the world. However, it seemed to progress slowly and even though the slow progression was visually engaging, it wasn't enough to always hold my attention. The story was just ok for me but the lead actress did a wonderful job with this character.

With all this said, let me just add that I intend to watch the film again. I am hoping the second time around, I may be able to clear up anything I may have missed. I may love it after a second viewing. Give it a chance you may get it all in one viewing and absolutely love it.

Erika Sawajiri is outstanding as flavor-of-the-moment model/actress Lillico, a diva held together by plastic surgery, who exorcises her own demons in predatory sado-sexual displays of domination on her minder (Shinobu Terajima in perfect counter-point). Lillico is self-aware, stating that she can't really act, and she's not a great singer. All she has is her looks, bought at great price, though the exact cost will only slowly reveal itself.

Japan's facile celebrity culture and the amoral voracity of its media are excoriated here. The social commentary scorches due to Sawajiri's unflinching efforts in making Lillico all too human. The casting is both professional and sly, as there is more than a little overlap between Lillico and the 'betsu ni' iteration of Sawajiri's own media persona.

Director Mika Ninagawa is best known for still photography, and it is this background that lets the film down. Too often we are offered a montage, beautifully shot, of angst ridden Lillico, rolling in the rain, hallucinating about butterflies and falling feathers (too obviously borrowed from American Beauty), or gazing as the camera slides poetically past her at the human carnage she has unleashed. Lovely photography, but at the cost of slowing the narrative to a standstill.

Lillico evokes Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's, a country girl living a dream on borrowed time and shutting out the tawdriness that engulfs her. Instead of an older husband, it is a younger sibling who arrives from the past to burst the bubble.

The plot involves ugly profiteering at a medical clinic and the arm of the law closing in, though the police procedural scenes function only to offer up expository commentary that jars. The prosecutors talk and are lit more like Greek gods pitying mortals than civil servants trying to put a shift in.

Kaori Momoi as the shiftless boss does what she does best, that undefinable unsettling quirkiness perfectly suited to this role. Kiko Mizuhara also shows depth as the new idol who displaces Lillico from her perch, but turns out to be every bit as self-aware and jaded as her predecessor.

The way the film turns the microscope on fetishized beauty and celebrity is its strength, and with brisker pacing and tighter editing this could have been outstanding. Those flaws are a pity, given the magnetic power of Sawajiri.

It's a sensational film staring Erika Sawaziri film - her first performance since 2007, Helter Skelter. In both positive and negative ways, Erika Sawaziri is like Paris Hilton in that she are beautiful but something gets involved in scandals. However, I think that she performed skillfully in this film.

Lilico as portrayed by Erika Sawaziri is an outstanding, charismatic model with an attractive body that appears on the covers of many fashion magazines. However, her pinup style body is the result of plastic surgery. While Llico is suffering from after effect of the repeated plastic surgeries, her desire to appear never abates. She lives in fear that she will be abandoned as her beauty fades. The president of her production company portrayed in this film by Kaori Momoi. An orthopedic surgery with a story behind. Lilico's manager (Shinobu Terashima) is obsessed with Lilco's beauty and tries to serve life for her no matter what Lilico gives her manager cruel and selfish treatments. And Kozue (Kiko Mizuhara), who supersedes Lilico's position easily with her natural beauty.

The film expresses well situations behind fear of eating into mentality as talents and models where they might loose their bright front stage as a product using cosmetic surgery in consumer culture. Brightly-colored scenes created by director Mika Ninagawa entertain the audiences as if they are looking at photograph collection of pop art. I did not particularly like or dislike Erika Sawaziri as an actor, but I think that her performance and expression have something of catching your eyes.

In a very exaggerated way, it shows the entanglement between fashion circle and cosmetic surgery. The plot, tone and lens of the whole film are all exaggerated. Unfortunately, the prosecutor has played soy sauce, but it also conforms to reality.

Lilico is a bad seed, a sadistic supermodel and the darling of all Japan who has turned herself into, as another character from the movie puts it, "a machine for the processing of desire…" Problem is that all her plastic surgery is slowly necrotizing her flesh, and as she slides down the bat pole into oblivion she drags everyone with her, including her female assistant (whom she sexually assaults) and the foot soldiers she dispatches to throw acid in the faces of other models.

In the hands of Sion Sono or David Cronenberg, this material would have been rich and nuanced. What begs to be explored is that central notion of the desire machine. Lilico's primary dilemma is everybody's – how do we constitute ourselves as subjects in this period of late-stage, global capitalism, where we exist in a state of constant flux between two poles: self-commodification and compulsive consumerism? The problem is hinted at, but never fleshed out: the human body is no longer a space in which people realize themselves politically, creatively, erotically, or spiritually; rather, the body has become ancillary to the functioning of a global market economy, a thing that is used by and subservient to ideology.

In the end, Helter Skelter is a pretty-looking mess, which isn't surprising because that's often the result when fashion photographers, in this case Mika Ninagawa, take a stab at directing feature films. Ambitious, but a mess.