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Suicide club

“(…)elle n’est pas sur une rampe de lancement pour la vraie vie, (…) elle-même est une vie, à consommer tout de suite comme les groseilles.” Sans Soleil, C. Marker.

Again at the biff: Suicide Club a film by Sono Sion. Why quote ‘Sans Soleil’ then, because as a spirit, as a sigh it was haunting me during the movie, sometimes, as well as Lain by Nakamura, where teenage girls bear a secret, maybe before blood is coming from them. The 1st scene is highly symbolic: 54 schoolgirls throw themselves under a train, launching, blowing a stream of blood on the machine, on the crowd, on the screen. Then a roll of regular stitched bits of skin is found on the crime scene. Do they loose their virginity on the road to another world?
In front of them, a bunch of policemen: embodying the father, the lover, the cynical, … But how could they understand the world of teenagers full of sweet pop groups, fans, copycats, mobile phones, websites, following a fashion one day and leaving it the day after: today suicide is in fashion, let’s die together.
Today death is in fashion: let’s sell it as song, as gadget, let’s use it as a setting for a rock’n roll star.
Today suicide is just an image, a fact in a landscape, a data on a webpage,a family routine…
When the film stays on facts, on crowds in subways, it could have this melancholy or this gore-humor, but when it enters imaginary, it comes with old clichés, and girls are the first victims of these clichés.
Designated victims or mighty mistresses of images, mass cossumption, and death, who is afraid of teenage girls?

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