In continuing my exploration of Japanese literature and cinema, it strikes me how intertwined the classics of each medium really are. Of course, films have been based on novels since the dawn of cinema; look no farther than George Méliès (A Trip To the Moon) and you can see the truth in that. However, it’s rarer to have a screenplay come directly from the original author himself. Through Suna no Onna (Woman in the Dunes) we’re given that special treat in the form of Kono Abe’s script, based on his magnum opus of the same name. Married to the visionary skill of a young Teshigahara Hiroshi, this film is not only a stunningly accurate adaptation of the source material, it might even be an improvement. “Are you shoveling to survive, or surviving to shovel?” This lone stretch of dialogue succinctly sums up the thematic heart of Woman in the Dunes. It is a momentous parable that speaks of the human condition—but which part and to what effect? Is this a story of emancipation despite physical confinement? Perhaps our characters are two Sisyphuses, doomed sinners and prisoners twice over. Or maybe things are more hopeful, despite the bleak atmosphere of the story. What if all of us are digging away at the sands of life, just trying to stay ahead day by day, lest we be crushed? We might be stuck struggling at the bottom forever, but at least there –is- still a bottom. And we may not be alone down there forever, either. What do you think it might be? Woman in the Dunes speaks to the viewer on a visceral level, using shots so finely detailed as to tickle the senses. There are times the sand moves vibrantly across the screen—one might expect to dip their fingers through the television and feel the grains. Once when the male lead drinks from the limited water, I cringed, almost tasting the salty corruption of the sands. Our leads engage in an intense sexual relationship, one desperate yet almost like a calculated carnal exchange. The woman acts as a seductress—to bind the man to her?—yet something about the scenes build up and inflame to suggest more as the film rolls along. Please be prepared for sexual elements as they play a large role in Woman in the Dunes. It is not quite a “pink film,” however; we predate those by several years. Despite the exemplary cinematography, my favorite element of this film must be the score. Without the stylings of Takemitsu Toru, the uncanny atmosphere of Woman in the Dunes would be shattered. He lends scenes an off-kilter feel, sometimes even palpable suspense, though they might seem otherwise quiet. This helps build the overall effect of the film to its crescendo. One effect in particular left an impression on me: a high-pitched sound, as if rocks were scraping across a tin roof.