[Revisit Review]
Has there ever been a more tactile film than Hiroshi Teshigahara's The Woman in the Dunes? To watch it is to feel the coarse sand scrap against your skin, to feel the merciless sun chap your flesh, to feel your lips crack with thirst. Perhaps this comes from Teshigahara's background as a ikebana artist; maybe the mastery of another art form gave him fresh insight on how to utilize the cinematic medium in new and daring ways? We've seen similar cases before: Jean Cocteau came to the cinema as a poet, Samuel Fuller a newspaperman, Stanley Kubrick a photographer, Bob Fosse a choreographer. Whatever the case, it is no exaggeration to say that there had never been a film before like The Woman in the Dunes. It is equal parts existentialist metaphor and post-modernist nightmare.
9/10
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