[#MovieReview] Art-house Crime Suspense #Movie "Women in the Lake": The Peace of Being Dominated [#Podcast Episode Introduction]

"Reel Friends in Tokyo" is a movie introduction podcast hosted by personalities "Mako" and "Oma." In this note, we delve into the acclaimed works, masterpieces, and even cult classics featured in the podcast episodes, exploring them from our unique perspectives to provide behind-the-scenes stories, personal deep dives, and supplementary information for our listeners.

Each time, we summarize the key points of the talks and discussions from the podcast, our own unique observations, honest talk that sometimes goes off-track, and personal movie reviews into an article. Whether you are a listener or not, please relax and enjoy.

You can listen to the latest episode of the program here ↓

https://open.spotify.com/show/4o8l9DJWMuwUht2pvkEytS?si=651713ed7b2a40f8

Chapter 1: Watching "Women in the Lake"

1.1 The fatigue of zapping through Japanese films and the reason to stop

Sometimes I think I'll watch a Japanese film—but when I start zapping through streaming services, I can't help but notice works that are "premised on being consumed in the moment." There's nothing wrong with productions that feel like idol promotional videos. They serve as a "bug zapper" to lure people into movie theaters at the dawn of adolescence, and I don't want to deny that. It's just that for a middle-aged guy who wants to sip coffee and watch something carefully at home, that energy is a bit too dazzling. So, I decided to change direction and focus my zapping on crime suspense and mystery.

1.2 Keeping distance from the "speed of consumption"

What I want to watch isn't the fast-forward energy, but something that takes time to take effect. Not something with an immediate effect when you press the switch, but the type that slowly lingers in your system. In that sense, crime suspense and mystery are a good fit. Rather than the incident itself, I want to properly absorb the mood drifting there—the turbidity of society and the stagnation of the human heart. My target is precisely that "stagnation."

1.3 And then, I hit upon this

That's how I encountered "Women in the Lake." I think the reason my zapping finger stopped was because of the "viscosity" of the work. It seems a bit too heavy to watch casually with a light mood. But that weight is exactly what I need. I pressed play, took a deep breath, and sat back down. From here on, I intend to relax my shoulders and properly "go through" it.

Chapter 2: Synopsis

2.1 Setting and Introduction

The story is set in a local city with a large lake. The local Seiko Police Station has a past where investigations were crushed by "pressure from above," and a resignation like an aftereffect drifts there. Things that are not put into words settle beneath the quiet water—that kind of atmosphere dominates the story from the beginning.

2.2 Outlines of the main characters

Keisuke, a mid-career detective, lives with his emotions frozen somewhere while going through the motions of his work. Kayo, who has continued to care for her father as a young carer, is a woman whose life has been eroded by the "convenience of others" in every corner. Furthermore, Matsue Ichishima—whose "silence" casts a long shadow over the story—becomes the key that connects the past and the present.

2.3 A chain of events

Small feelings of discomfort accumulate, and eventually, human relationships become distorted along the axis of "dominance/submission." A tension where the lines of consent are blurred runs through the relationship between Keisuke and Kayo, and the police station is filled with a pressure to prioritize processing. On the periphery, the presence of a group of boys appears as disturbing noise, amplifying the bias and echoes of their values.

2.4 The Scenery at the End

The story refuses a neat resolution. The true culprit remains unpunished, only silence remains, and the audience is left with an aftertaste similar to a "dangling thread." Like a lake that does not flow, what has been submerged remains submerged—that is the nature of this film's ending.

Chapter 3: The Incidents That Serve as Motifs for the Work

3.1 "Reality" Woven in Multiple Layers

This work weaves multiple real-life incidents as motifs. To name a few: the Kotō Memorial Hospital incident, the HIV-tainted blood product scandal, Unit 731, and the Sagamihara stabbings at a facility for the disabled. Each is heavy, a subject that could be a film in its own right. I will limit myself to listing them here, but it is certain that this alone lowers the "atmospheric pressure" of the work by a notch. When watching, I made a conscious effort not to breathe too shallowly—because the composition of overwhelming the audience ethically through the weight of the material alone is part of the film's intent.

3.2 The Benefits and Side Effects of "Stuffing"

Simultaneously incorporating multiple motifs has both benefits and side effects. The benefit is that a "structure" becomes visible beyond the individual incidents. The side effect is that the focus diffuses, making the theme appear somewhat blurred. My first impression was exactly that. Fragments that cannot be bundled into a single thread sink beneath the surface of the lake—that appearance is the expression of this work, and at the same time, the reason why audience evaluations are divided.

3.3 The Feeling of a Dangling Thread and How This Article Will Proceed

Upon a single viewing, the ending might feel like a "dangling thread." However, this sensation itself is included in the texture of the work—I will not delve into that here. In the following chapters, I will organize each motif limited to an "overview" and "how it is cited in the work." I will not add unnecessary embellishments, but rather follow the policy of fleshing out the skeleton present in the manuscript as it is.

Chapter 4: The Kotō Memorial Hospital Incident

4.1 Overview

This is known as a wrongful conviction case in which a nurse was arrested and indicted on suspicion of "murder" regarding the disconnection of a ventilator tube, and after a guilty verdict was maintained for a long time, she was acquitted in a retrial. The core of the problem is the composition in which a person's life and dignity were crushed by a combination of the high-stress environment peculiar to medical settings, deficiencies in records and gray zones in procedures, the distance between specialized knowledge and investigation, and the short-sightedness that "things will settle if someone is punished." What was exposed here was not scientific examination or strictness of procedure, but a "preemptive image of the culprit" driven by atmosphere and expectations. The fact that a female worker, who is easily saddled with the role of "explainer" due to the proximity of her profession, became the target of suspicion by the shortest route without diverse causal hypotheses—such as the possibility of medical malpractice, equipment trouble, or systemic defects—being sufficiently compared and examined, increased the social gravity of the incident.

4.2 Citations in This Work

This film captures the very texture of the pressure created by 'anticipating the culprit.' When 'inexplicable moments' that can occur in nursing and care settings are processed through emotional accounting rather than procedure, the initial narrative becomes an established fact. The film's routine-like acts of questioning, reporting, and confirming function as a mechanism that swallows up discrepancies and gaps in records, while only thickening the arrow of responsibility. The issues of the Kotō Memorial Hospital incident—the multi-causality of equipment and procedures, the uncertainty of on-site conditions, and the transformation of statements—are translated into 'atmospheric pressure' within the story, avoiding specific names. As a result, the audience experiences the process by which the omission of procedures and the synchronization of the 'atmosphere' corner people, rather than the evil of any specific individual. The 'gaze that only sees what it wants to see,' as demonstrated by the wrongful conviction, settles to the bottom of the lake in the film's world along with silent consent, remaining as a weight that takes effect later.

Chapter 5: The HIV-tainted Blood Product Scandal

5.1 Overview

A complex medical and administrative scandal in which many patients were infected with HIV and lost their lives due to the use and distribution of unheated blood products. Information sharing and responses were delayed at the stage when the dangers of the products were suggested, and 'delays' and 'dispersion of responsibility' accumulated in the decision-making of the field, the administration, and the companies. The essence of the damage lies not only in the poor initial response to scientific uncertainty but also in the failure of boundary management between organizations that left 'who will stop it' ambiguous. As a result, the voices of the victims were visualized in retrospect, and the institutional side retreated into the safety zone of 'unforeseen circumstances.' What was exposed here was the fact that there were indeed moments when procedural consistency was prioritized over the bodies of patients.

5.2 Citations in this work

What this film extracts is the texture of 'slowness' and 'blurred boundaries' specific to this incident. In the film, reports call for more reports, and time passes without anyone making a decision—that chain is depicted as an atmosphere that swallows up individual good intentions and efforts. While specific names are not brought to the fore, the composition in which human lives are relegated to the background in the gaps of procedures appears as 'fluctuations in detail,' such as small discrepancies in testimony, gaps in records, and the paraphrasing of responsibility. What the audience experiences is not so much malice as the accumulation of 'not stopping it,' and the fear that everyone is being walked, little by little, toward the 'periphery of harm.' In other words, the citation here is not a posted lesson, but a reproduction of the atmosphere. The 'silence' of the screen becomes a metaphor for delay, and the absence of decision-making is fixed as the calm of the lake surface. How we remember the 'time that did not move'—the film leaves that to the audience.

ChatGPT:

Chapter 6: Unit 731

6.1 Overview

A unit known for biological warfare research and human experimentation by the Japanese military during wartime. What is important here is the fact that when the logic of harm is subsumed under grand words like 'nation,' 'research,' and 'classified,' individual ethics rapidly erode. There is no need to rehash the full extent of what happened on-site here, but at the very least, the self-definition of 'I am just one cog in the machine' functions as a powerful mechanism of absolution—the fear of which lingers long, linked to the silence of later society. What I want to emphasize here is the human weakness that the discomfort of memory often becomes the motive for 'not speaking.' Oblivion is a defense, but at the same time, it becomes a seedbed for reproduction.

6.2 Citations in this work

What this film adopts is the 'composition' rather than specific names. In other words, when a huge goal is set, how far will people entrust their own judgment—the gradient of that psychology. The screen does not loudly condemn the past. Instead, it reproduces the dulling of ethics through the 'sounds of administration,' such as the repetition of procedures, the rhythm of top-down orders, and the chain of stamps on documents. The audience should feel a chill at the flow of surrendering oneself to the comfort of subordination, rather than the evil of any specific person. It is not just the record of sin that sinks into the 'stagnant place' that is the lake. It is the time when judgment was let go, and the physical sensation of getting used to it. The work shows this not through explanation, but through atmosphere. I see the strongest accusation in that very silence.

Chapter 7: Sagamihara Stabbings

7.1 Overview

An indiscriminate murder incident in which many residents were killed or injured at a facility for people with disabilities. The perpetrator repeatedly made discriminatory claims such as 'people with disabilities create unhappiness,' linking discourse that justifies the selection of life with actions. What was revealed here was not just the runaway of an individual, but the invisibility of voices pushed to the periphery of society. The words of discrimination did not fall suddenly. The time that had been spent 'pretending not to hear' in daily life had quietly built the foundation.

7.2 Citations in this work

What this film scoops up is not the cry of overt hate, but the "inaudible silence" that supports it. What is placed on the screen is the accumulated fatigue at caregiving sites, social division, and convenient euphemisms—"it can't be helped," "it's impossible right now," "it's no one's responsibility." The boy group's narrative of "hatred of the elderly" functions as a microcosm of this. It is not that their words are scary because they are extreme. The nodding of peers that reinforces small convictions, the agreement that rides on algorithms, and the absence of counterarguments—the fact that these line up with the face of "the norm" is even scarier.
The film does not erase the individuality of the victims, while simultaneously keeping its distance from the violence of "symbolization." The way of filming that does not sensationally consume names or attributes returns the responsibility of silence to the audience. The calm of the lake is not quiet because there is nothing there. It is quiet because voices do not reach it.

Chapter 8: The Relationship Between Dominance and Submission

8.1 Depiction of Accepting Discomfort

This film contains SM-like scenes, intentionally evoking discomfort in the audience. What is important here is not the pros and cons of sexual preferences, but the point where "the peace of being controlled" is exposed as a theme. Kayo has long surrendered her entire life to others. The pressure of caregiving and the transgressive acts by her father, which are sometimes hinted at, distort the expression of her desires and push her to a point where she feels "it is easier to be subordinate." Keisuke, conversely, tries to gain temporary satisfaction by controlling the individual in front of him in response to a world that does not go as he wishes. The two are symmetrical—trying to fill the same void in opposite directions.

8.2 "Entrusting" and "Grasping"

Kayo's "entrusting" is not an abandonment, but closer to an escape from pain. Keisuke's "grasping" is not a solution, but merely a first-aid measure for his self-esteem. Here, the difficulty of "consent" appears. Even if there are signals or arrangements, the foundation is a "choice for survival." The discomfort of the scene acts as a device to ask the audience whether that choice is truly free.

8.3 The Two as Mirror Images

Keisuke tries to "order" the world through control, and Kayo tries to distance herself from the "noise" of the world through submission. Both are movements seeking "ease," which is why the two are attracted to and clash with each other. The story does not simplify good and evil here. Dominance and submission are not fixed roles; they swap and bleed into each other in every scene. That swaying spreads to other places in the form of "silence" and "resignation" in later developments.

Chapter 9: Dominance Drifting in the Saiko Police Station

9.1 Senses Worn Down by "From Above"

There is a past where an investigation was crushed by state power. Since then, a resignation like an invisible weight has remained in the station, and the sense of justice has worn thin. Rather than upholding ideals, procedures that do not make waves are prioritized, and everyone hits the brakes with the premonition that "it might be stopped again." Here, the implicit agreement is to match the atmosphere first, without rushing to a conclusion.

9.2 The Pleasure of Easy Solutions

Daily cases are settled in the name of "processing." Rather than confirming details, finishing quickly is considered good, and complexity is cut away. No one says it explicitly, but bodies flow toward "what is easy" rather than "what is right." It is safer and less likely to lower one's evaluation to follow the judgments of those above rather than oppose them. Thus, the attitude of entrusting judgment becomes a routine, and the station's breathing becomes shallow.

9.3 The Sweetness of "It's Easier to be Controlled"

Rather than resisting an irresistible force, it is easier and more comfortable to be on the side that is dominated—a choice that, before you know it, becomes a habit. Before you realize it, your fangs are pulled, objections are swallowed with a joke, and you dissolve into the atmosphere. The domination here is not in a commanding tone. It seeps quietly into your bones in the form of silence and conformity.

Chapter 10: Matsue Ichishima's Silence

10.1 The Origin of Silence

Matsue Ichishima once let a "juvenile who committed a serious crime" go free. What is important here is not "what she saw," but "what she did not see." In the moment when the reality before her, her professional duty, and the atmosphere of the town clashed, she did not choose her words and withheld action. Letting him go was a single verb, but afterward, it became a noun—a continuation called "silence." She did not shelve her judgment. She told herself later that she had no choice but to shelve it. That is where the weight of this chapter lies. Silence is not oblivion. One remains silent because one cannot forget.

10.2 Between National Interest and Fear

Two explanations line up for her silence. One is "for the sake of national interest." In the tide heading toward war, she may have convinced herself that she could not stop the "flow" with her own individual judgment. The other is "fear." It is no wonder that humans freeze at the "composure" of a boy who kills people with a straight face and comes to greet them with a straight face. Either way, she was dominated by her emotions and could not choose her actions. What is depicted here is neither the absence of heroic refusal nor simple complicity. It is a "standing still" that is not recovered by either narrative. Her silence was a physical reaction wrapped in the cloak of rationality, and it becomes the cause that torments her for a long time.

10.3 The Reason for Losing Sight of "Beautiful Things"

Since that day, Matsue Ichishima has been unable to see "beautiful things." This is not a matter of taste. Beauty is a sense that presupposes an openness to the world. To be open, one must temporarily take responsibility within oneself for what one saw, what one did not see, and what one tried not to see. She failed at that. That is why her vision is clouded. The light of a painting, the shadows of a landscape, and the breath of music all sound dull somehow. Beauty is not forgiveness, but it can be an entrance to forgiveness. When one turns one's back on the entrance, one lowers the saturation of the world. The reason Matsue Ichishima's silence casts a long shadow is that the loss of that saturation continues to slowly drive the coordinates of her ethics insane.

Chapter 11: Domination by the Youth Group

11.1 An Ending Without Judgment

In this work, there is no scene where the true culprit is judged. The story rejects the catharsis of punishment and instead leaves an aftertaste of "being left unchecked." The focus here is not on the evil of a specific individual, but on the flow of "conviction as a group" justifying runaway behavior. The girl standing at the center expresses blatant disgust for the elderly without hesitation. Her words may seem eccentric, but they are actually just a concentration of the atmosphere around her. The nods of her companions become the signal, and the conviction begins to run on its own.

11.2 Transference and Bias

The girl's dissatisfaction stems from a lack of attachment—the "pain of living"—caused by the absence or exhaustion of guardians engaged in caregiving work. But she does not descend to the root of the cause. Instead, she transfers her dissatisfaction onto an easily visible and vulnerable target (the elderly). What is at work here is cognitive bias. To protect her image of the world, she chooses only convenient explanations. When that choice is reinforced within the group, doubt is converted into "betrayal," and the room for correction shrinks even further.

11.3 The Comfort of the Echo Chamber

In a closed community, minority opinions suddenly switch to "common sense." Like-minded members, familiar words, the same reaction speed. There, counterarguments feel like noise, and external voices are easily processed as "hostility." What the film depicts is how the hurdle for "things you shouldn't do" is lowered within that comfort. As a result, their actions are exonerated by each other's gaze, and their sense of guilt is diluted. The reason judgment does not come is not because no one stops them. It is because the path to stop them was never designed in the first place.

Chapter 12: Control of the World

12.1 The Metaphor of the "Lake"

The large lake that serves as the setting, unlike a river or the sea, has no outlet. What enters from the outside does not escape, but settles in the name of stillness. The control depicted in the work corresponds to this "lack of flow." Sexual dominance, organizational conformity, national-level history—none of these are asserted loudly, yet they accumulate like sediment at the bottom. A calm water surface is not peaceful. The fact that it does not move legitimizes the silence.

12.2 Stagnation and Preservation: "Ethics That Do Not Flow"

The reason no voices are raised is not because there is nothing there. It is because the voices "do not reach." The layers of silence eventually preserve the very foundation of ethics. Conscience, fatigue, and prejudice all sleep together at the bottom of the lake, becoming nourishment for the next event. The work does not explain this. It constrains our imagination through quiet imagery and unmoving time. Control is not just an order; it is also a technique of preservation.

12.3 The Violence of Serenity

Control makes no sound. On the scene, a "face that nothing is happening" is maintained, and the calm landscape is updated as daily life. This silence steadily erodes any inclination to resist. The film shows how easily the world escapes into "stability" when choices that do not make waves are piled up. Serenity may look like a virtue, but here, it is a form of violence.

Podcaster Mako (@_macobana) brings the film discussions previously held on her main channel "Pocket ni Numa wo" (#PokeNuma)—where she talks solo about various things that don't fit into the main show—to a dedicated channel on the podcast program "#YomoyamaKobanashi" (#MakoBana).

There is no end to the movies I want to talk about!

Episodes will be released weekly or bi-weekly.

Please share your thoughts by tweeting with #ReelPal .

Tweets received may be featured on the show.

Click here for the theme talk submission form↓

https://forms.gle/4PT2GBA7TY8vAoCx7

For direct messages, please send them here↓

yomoyamakobanashi@gmail.com

Please continue to support the show.

https://open.spotify.com/show/4o8l9DJWMuwUht2pvkEytS?si=1a52009ac6d0484b