Kisou (2002) It's human decandence at its finest. Faint and sickly looking colors paint the scenery, as you're about to step into a somber and claustrophobic building. It's now empty, yet its mere presence feels suffocating. (Some places make me feel nauseous only by looking at them by the outside, a sort of gut instinct telling me something is off) Murky waters, rusty medical utensils, filthy sheets and unmade beds are all over the place, and so are scattered numerous proofs of forgotten past events. A rapid sequence of different scenarios (they all have something in common...) flashes right before your eyes, something unspeakable happened in one of those now vacant rooms. Or perhaps is it bound to happen all over again?(Those scenes repeat themselves in your mind, some brief moments in particular seem to get stuck in there. But more than a clear image, it's definitely just a recurring dismal feeling in the pit of your stomach) the role of the spectator fits you, it's like you're watching a silent movie in a loop. Except you can distinctly hear their languid cries from elsewhere. Fragments of faded memories stain the walls of this structure, they're so rancid. And yet so delicate. Those remains of tragedies mix with the degradation of your surroundings at the point it's hard to pinpoint when, where, how it happened. Some other rooms are more telling about their story. Whether it's the loudness of its footprints or the desolation of it. Leftovers of something luscious, yet uncanny and soaked in sin and regret...morbid eroticism. A decapitator and their pleased audience. But it's not always something inherently violent and physical, or that involves a victim and an executioner. At times it's more of a visceral feeling, something more personal and restrictive to one's consciousness, an animalistic urge or a sincere longing, whatever it might have been, it was consumed there. Never left that room. (In all this degradation, there seems to be light. Not necessarily hope, but some kind of ransom, whether material or not, a form of justice prevailed. Even if it didn't fix what had already happened. Like a clock cannot tick backwards)
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