Nureki Chimuo Archive

I’ve been talking frequently with Director Nakahara Rutsu about the bondage photo book produced by Tomoshibi.

Before writing the script for “The Feel of Water,” I’ll meet again with Hiromi, to discuss her relationship with the loan shark Tamaru and their respective psychological states.

“...Let’s avoid a simplistic story where, as this rough relationship continues, with bondage and gagging, a special bond develops between Tamaru and Hiromi, and they gradually grow closer, Nureki Sensei.”

As always, Director Nakahara’s words are sharp and to the point.

“Yeah, that kind of plot development is just too trite, it’s like the kind of novel someone else has written a million times. I’d hate that.”

“Oh come on, Nureki Sensei, you write that kind of thing yourself from time to time.”

Director Nakahara’s sharp tongue sometimes leaves me at a loss for words.

Stories where a man and a woman who hate each other start tying each other up and being tied up, and as they come into contact, they develop a feeling akin to familiarity, and before they know it, something resembling sadomasochistic pleasure creeps in… Stories like that are the most cliched and facile, and certainly the easiest to write as a script.

But now, stories like that are just too lowbrow, and as Director Nakahara says, they’re not interesting.

Creating a photo book based on such a photo story would provide absolutely no stimulation.

Even if you made one, no one would be happy to look at it.

“I think it’s better if the relationship between a man and a woman doesn’t turn into mere familiarity until the very end,” Director Nakahara says, glaring at me with her large, shiny black eyes.

“Yeah, I think so too.” I end up bowing my head slightly.

It’s true, the moment a man and a woman become too comfortable with each other, the dramatic allure of that SM flavor vanishes.

From the very beginning of preparations for the first shoot of “The Sunset Room,” Director Nakahara has been actively and bluntly offering me these precise opinions and requests.

She keeps coming up with one innovative, great idea after another.

I am impressed.

“Ah, this person truly loves making SM dramas from the bottom of their heart,” I think to myself.

While I’m at it, let me say this. The reason SM pleasure is so interesting is precisely because the situation, that is, the drama, is so tightly intertwined with it.

SM without drama, that is, without conflict, is like a Terushi play where no matter how much you tie people up or get tied up, no blood ever flows (though, to be honest, this joke only makes sense to Director Nakahara and me).

Having worked in this industry for so long, I tend to fall into a rut, but Director Nakahara always stimulates and refreshes my perspective.

Let me make this clear. I’m not blindly following her opinions or advice (I’m not that kind of cute guy).

When she accidentally says something wrong, I seize the opportunity to fiercely push back.

(But, frustratingly, she almost never says anything wrong. She insists on nothing but the truth, to the point of being infuriating, and cuts right through me.)

There’s no end to this, so I’d better get started on the script for “The Feel of Water.”

Actually, no. I’m still at the synopsis stage, before I even get to the script.

Basically, it’s nothing more than a rough draft.

“The Feel of Water” culminates in a water torture scene set in a bathroom.

As I wrote before, I’m confident in the specific techniques and various positions I’ll use to subject Hiromi to water torture.

That said, there are almost instantaneous poses that can’t be put into words.

I won’t actually come up with them until I’m on set, placing Hiromi Saotome on that stage and directing her movements.

But I am confident.

Whether people call it a rut or say I’m just going through the motions, I have unshakable confidence in my ability to create vivid, magnificent, and stimulating scenes that resonate with bondage enthusiasts.

Let me show you that my experience so far has not been in vain.

That said, perhaps my confidence stems from the fact that my partner is Hiromi Saotome.

If she were a simple, dull model who didn’t think for herself and merely struck poses that looked the part, even I wouldn’t be able to direct her.

In any case, I want photographer Yamanouchi to capture images that will stand the test of time, proof that such bondage photography existed in 2011.

Now, anyway, this is what led to him dragging Hiromi into that bathroom and holding her captive.

It’s inevitable.

If we were to say that both this man and woman were just SM enthusiasts who liked to play in the bathroom, it would lack any excitement or dramatic tension.

It wouldn’t be interesting at all. It wouldn’t be worth photographing.

We must absolutely avoid such low level, routine scenes.

After all, an SM drama is ultimately a fantasy, a figment of the imagination.

That said, a certain degree of realism is necessary.

Without it, neither the creators nor the viewers will get into the SM spirit.

We must think this through.

In the previous installment, “The Horsetail Garden,” Hiromi’s husband, who is on the run, sent her 100,000 yen in cash via mail.

Tamaru discovered it and confiscated it.

A few days later, that is, in this installment, let’s have her husband secretly send her some more money.

It’s probably money he earned gambling in some town while on the run.

Hiromi turns over the envelope of the mail-order package she received, but neither her husband’s address nor his name is written on it.

So Hiromi dashes out the front door and chases after the mail carrier.

(The sender’s name and address should be listed on the receipt the carrier is carrying.)

Seeing this, Tamaru hurriedly pounces from behind, grabs Hiromi’s wrist, and drags her back inside the entrance. He slams the door shut.

Hiromi screams and struggles.

gag.

Tamaru presses all five fingers of one hand over Hiromi’s mouth to silence her. A hand

With half her face covered by the man’s thick fingers, Hiromi grimaces in distress, her eyes and nose contorting.

Tamaru snatches the envelope from Hiromi’s hand and presses it against her face.

“I know what this is. Another letter from your husband, isn’t it? Even a hopeless gambling addict like him is kind to you, isn’t he? There might be money in there again. If there is, I’ll take it. After all, I’m still owed 1.4 million yen by your husband.”

Hiromi writhes, trying to make a sound through the gaps between his fingers.

“Hey, hey, keep it down. If the neighbors find out a shady loan shark like me is hounding you, you’ll be embarrassed too, won’t you?”

“Mmm….”

And yet, Hiromi continues to struggle.

“Ugh, I told you to be quiet!” Tamaru, angry, takes out the rope again and ties Hiromi’s hands behind her back.

Let’s have photographer Yamanouchi carefully capture, one by one, the moment Hiromi’s left and right wrists are twisted behind her back and bound with rope.

In the previous “ Horsetail Garden,” we didn’t film this binding process in much detail, so this time, let’s make sure to properly capture how the rope is handled here.

After finishing the binding, Tamaru opens the envelope of the mail-order package that just arrived right in front of Hiromi’s face.

Then, he takes out five 10,000 yen bills from inside.

“Hmm, fifty thousand this time. Last time it was a hundred thousand. Oh well, I’ll take this too. That leaves one million three hundred fifty thousand in outstanding loans. And don’t forget the interest. Don’t forget that. When you lend money to your husband, you’re technically acting as a guarantor.” Tamaru shoves the five ten-thousand yen bills into his pocket.

Seeing this, Hiromi can’t help but exclaim, “No! Don’t take that! Stop it!”

She screams, her eyes filled with resentment and hatred.

Tamaru flinches at her loud voice, “Hey, hey, don’t shout so loud. If the neighbors hear you, you’ll be too embarrassed to live here anymore. That would be a problem, wouldn’t it? You’re living in this house because you believe your husband will come back here someday, and you’re waiting for him, right? Eh, isn’t that right? Or am I wrong?"

Even so, Hiromi tries to say something.

“You’re such a hopeless woman.” Tamaru takes out a worn hand towel and gags Hiromi with it.

First, he pries her lips apart and slips a thin gag between them.

Then, he covers half her face with another hand towel, as if to smother her.

Even so, Hiromi struggles, trying to make a sound.

She fixes Tamaru with a gaze of hatred and resentment, writhing violently to show her resistance.

A voice escapes from beneath the gag.

Tamaru clicks his tongue and says, “Shut up. How long are you going to keep thrashing around? Just give it up already."

As he speaks, his eyes suddenly drift toward the bathroom door.

“Go in there for a bit and cool off.”

Tamaru forcibly drags the struggling Hiromi to the bathroom door.

Let’s shoot this dragging scene with different poses and angles than last time.

Hiromi’s expression of anxiety and fear in front of the bathroom door.

Shoved into the bathroom, she wonders, “What is this man going to do to me?!”

The door is half-open. The pose of Tamaru trying to push her in and Hiromi resisting.

The man gradually grows irritated by the stubborn housewife’s resistance.

Usually, a weak woman would give up by now and do whatever he says, but despite her appearance, this woman is tenacious. Damn it, what should I do? Just wait and see!

The water torture that’s about to begin is too detailed to be written out in the script.

For example, Terushi, dressed as a roving ronin like Ryunosuke Tsukue or Kyoshiro Nemuri, is surrounded by five or six enemies.

The enemies all draw their swords at once and attack Terushi alone.

With a single draw-and-strike, he cuts down five or six of them in a matter of seconds, snaps his sword back into its sheath, and strikes a cool pose.

Can you really write out in detail the choreography of this swordfight scene, which lasts only a few seconds (less than ten seconds)?

Well, it’s not that I couldn’t write it, but it wouldn’t be all that interesting for the reader.

In most cases, both fight scenes and climactic confrontations are meant to be seen. Reading about them doesn’t really get the blood pumping.

If you absolutely insist that I write it, I’ll try writing out both the sword fight and the combat scene in a separate draft.

Actually, I’m quite capable of writing sword fight scenes myself.

(I seem to recall writing about this before in this “Talking Theater” column.)

Hiromi Saotome and I, following the impulses that flashed through our minds, kept changing our water-torture poses one after another in the bathroom, creating a scene that was both powerful and beautiful.

Hiromi, the married woman, writhes in agony as water is poured over her hair while she remains bound with a monkey’s paw knot, leaving her soaking wet.

A close-up of her masochistic, pitiful yet beautiful, and harrowing expression.

Let’s wrap up this shoot with the scene where, after striking various poses in the bathroom, Hiromi, now gasping for breath, crawls to Tamaru’s feet and stares up at the man’s face with eyes full of hatred.

I started writing this as a shooting log, essentially a director’s notebook, but before I knew it, it had taken on a form closer to a script.

If Director Nakahara adds her meticulous touches to these notes, as she did last time, and we end up with a proper script, the entire Tomoshibi team will be raring to go again, and we’ll be able to have a fun and fulfilling shoot.