Wet Woman in the Wind Screen 6 articles

Wet Woman in the Wind

2016

Wet Woman in the Wind Poster
  • Let’s make no bones about it: This is a film designed to appeal to straight male prurient interest. Yuki Mamiya, who plays the title character, has a smoldering quality that fills the bill. Much less winning is the way the movie treats consent, as in the playwright’s rough “seduction” of a very young fan. Genre homage or not, trashy, assault-coddling sexism is a turn off — and worse. Perhaps the “roman porno” reboot project should have rebooted its sexual politics before calling “action!”

  • For all the sex and nudity on display, however, Wet Woman in the Wind is old-fashioned, continuing not only the traditions of Roman Porno, but of vintage American screwball comedy . . . Shiota renders Kosuke's solitary new life in remarkably specific brushstrokes, from the inflatable raft the protagonist uses as a bed, vividly cocooning himself in blankets, to his daily routine, in which he buys coffee beans from town and tends to his garden.

  • One gets the sense that the assignment rekindled Shiota’s mojo in more ways than one. He not only colors wildly within the lines of the Roman Porno template, but seems to openly make fun of the fact that, as a Japanese art director, this naughty genre is his best, maybe only chance to get something in the can. Wet Woman in the Wind is a story of sex, of course, but also self-sufficiency, experimentalism, and the worker’s ethic of delayed gratification.

  • It's a curious proposition—a formal genre exercise with energy to spare, and a cheerfully dirty mind... It’s an astonishingly athletic performance from both Mamiya and Nagaoka, and an absurdly enjoyable film.

  • Shiota’s film was a triumph of spontaneity and freedom within tight production and budget constraints, a lively box of surprises reinventing classic screwball tropes with a dose of subversive Marx Brothers anarchy injected into the proceedings, thanks to Yuki Mamiya’s spot-on performance as a vixen waitress that throws into disarray the quiet life of a reformed womanizing playwright.

  • The opportunity to tackle other challenges has clearly come back with Wet Woman in the Wind, its adult, always amusing battle of attraction and repulsion played out in ever more hilarious variations, from Kumashiro-like songs through deadpan dialogue (notably with a “totally badass” surfer) or puzzling and curious cuckold interludes to the choreographed chair fight. Of course, this includes ever wilder sex, habitually practiced even while working, phoning, or eating—it becomes the art of life.

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