Flower and Snake: Zero (2014) Review

“Flower and Snake: Zero” Theatrical Poster

Director: Hajime Hashimoto
Cast: Maiko Amano, Noriko Hamada, Rina Sakuragi, Kanji Tsuda, Naoki Kawano, Hideo Sakaki 
Running Time: 113 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Spend enough time in the world of Asian cinema, and somewhere along the line, you’re likely to stumble across the Japanese SM (sadomasochism) genre. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for as long as I can remember. Not that I’ve seen that many of them, but people who I know who have tend to believe they stick to the same conventions. Traditional housewife finds herself drawn into a world of being tied up and suspended via various ropes, eventually learns to enjoy the whipping she’s subjected to, and the plots stumble questionably to their ending. At least, that’s what people who’ve watched a fair few of them believe, just to reiterate the point.

One of the most famous examples of the genre is 1974’s Flower and Snake, an adaptation of Oniroku Dan’s novel, about an elderly husband that orders his younger employee to kidnap his reluctant wife, and train her to submit to his desires by breaking her pride via all sorts of perverted nonsense. A distinctly Japanese affair, the movie was so notorious that the title of Flower and Snake wouldn’t stay down for long, and today almost feels like a synonym for rope themed SM movies. From 1985 to 1987 we got 4 more doses of Flower and Snake, all of them standalone tales of debauchery, and featuring such imaginative titles as White Uniform Rope Slave and Ultimate Rope Discipline.

After the last instalment the franchise (for want of a better word) went quiet, until in 2004 it was revived once more. Another standalone tale, this time director Takashi Ishii was at the helm, the man responsible for such 90’s V-Cinema classics as Black Angel and its sequel. The reboot launched another string of Flower and Snake movies, with a sequel the following year and a 3^rd instalment arriving in 2010. Finally a 4^th entry came in 2014, dropping the chronological numbering that the latest series had been following, and going simply by the title of Flower and Snake: Zero.

As the 9^th Flower and Snake movie in 40 years, even the most avid fan of watching stories that involve women getting naked and tied up in increasingly elaborate rope configurations may be starting to get weary (I can ask one of the people I know and confirm back later if anyone’s interested), and so FAS:Z (as I’ll refer to it from here on in) goes a slightly different route. Actually, it goes a significantly different route, with proceedings opening with a group of cops riding in a van enroute to raid an underground SM streaming site, where they believe the victims have been kidnapped against their will. The Raid has a lot to answer for.

Things quickly segue into a bloody shootout, with liberal use of blood squibs (yes, not a trace of CGI blood in sight!), and even some nicely framed compositions – in one scene a cop shoots a guy up on a platform, and in the next shot they turn around in slow motion to shoot another, while the guy from the platform falls through the air in the background. This sequence alone was more entertaining than anything found in John Woo’s Manhunt. At the helm is director Hajime Hashimoto, who’s filmography prior to FAS:Z would give no indication that he’d one day direct an SM movie, having mainly stuck to crime thrillers such as Yakuza Ladies: Burning Desire (the title is misleading, trust me) and The Detective Is in the Bar.

Hashimoto’s fondness for crime thrillers is clear, and somehow with FAS:Z he pulls off the act of incorporating gratuitous SM based rope play, with a thriller like plot involving a mysterious underground organisation kidnapping women to livestream them. Anchoring proceedings is actress Maiko Amano, who like so many actresses that appear in these types of production, has a fleeting filmography. She’d go onto also feature in Hashimoto’s follow-up Zebra, in 2016, but hasn’t done anything of note before or since. Amano plays a karate kicking cop with a tough exterior, however when she discovers her estranged sister is part of the gang during the raid, she impulsively tells her to escape before she’s discovered by the others cops.

That turns out to be a mistake, as not only does her sister turn out to be completely ungrateful for letting her go, but she soon finds herself being called by a mysterious voice who begins to blackmail her to partake in various acts of voyeurism and sexual gratification. However when the cops discover a new victim (played by Noriko Hamada) has started being streamed, the voice offers clues as rewards for going through with whatever debauched act is being requested, clues which could lead to the victim, an abducted wife of a failed businessman. As ridiculous as it sounds to say about a Flower and Snake movie, the thriller element of the plot is engaging, and Amano’s predicament serves as an interesting dilemma for the audience – we know the scenes of her performing the acts she’s requested to are there to titillate, but at the same time there’s a sense of guilt for enjoying them because of what’s at stake. Hashimoto is a smart guy.

Perhaps to offset this, there’s a quirky subplot involving a lonely wife who discovers she loves SM through the website, and ends up going off on her own sexual odyssey that includes flashing herself to young men in a park. Played by Rina Sakugari, who featured in Koichi Sakamoto’s Girl’s Blood the same year, her character most closely resembles the archetype we’re used to seeing in the genre – a bored housewife whose husband is hardly home, and finds herself exploring her sexuality in increasingly kinky ways. However whereas in other entries Sakugari would be the main character, here she acts as what can best be described as comic relief. Her enthusiasm for the SM world soon has her daydreaming about what she’d like to do to the courier while he’s standing right in front of her, enthusiastically licking the screen of her laptop to the images that are playing on it, and showing a little too much excitement at a live SM show. 

Hashimoto also utilises the less rigid limitations of the genre to show off a propensity for practical splatter. The last thing the audience for these types of movies would expect to see is Lone Wolf and Cub levels of bloodshed, however there are a handful of unexpectedly graphic gore scenes thrown into the mix. In today’s era the genre is low budget by nature, and in most movies with similar production values CGI blood is destined to rear its ugly head. It’s an undeniable pleasure then, to see that Hashimoto has gone in completely the opposite direction, and opts for 100% practical effects. They’re infrequent, but when they do come you can expect everything in the frame to get splattered in blood, including the camera lens. 

Of course at its core, FAS:Z knows its part of a series of movies stretching back 4 decades, and ultimately it doesn’t shy away from its core theme, with an extended finale involving all three of the key cast members (Amano, Hamada, and Sakugari) taking part in an underground live SM show. Some of the positions they’re placed in via the rope suspensions had me thinking I should probably cancel my CrossFit membership, and invest in tying myself up instead. Needless to say the actresses give it their all, as there’s no faking what’s shown onscreen. Hashimoto has the last laugh though, as he pulls an unexpected action climax (no pun intended) out of the bag, that combines elements of Gun Woman (from the same year), OldBoy, and a chainsaw being put to use that makes the infamous scene from Scarface looks like child’s play.

All in all Hashimoto has created a winning combination, largely thanks to a well-rounded cast of characters, a unique blending of genres, and a stylish sense of direction which belies the low budget. The Flower and Snake movies definitely aren’t for everyone, however with Flower and Snake: Zero, the balance is tipped just right, offering up a heady mix of erotica, gore, and action. Please note no screens were licked during the writing of this review.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7.5/10