The following impressions are based on the original Japanese audio, and contain minor spoilers.
Directed by Ryūichi Hiroki, the newly released Japanese Netflix movie Ride or Die (Japanese: Kanojo, lit. “Her” or “Girlfriend”) — based on Ching Nakamura’s manga “Gunjō” (“Ultramarine”) — tells the story of Rei Nagasawa (Kiko Mizuhara), a cosmetic surgeon who goes on the run with her lover Nanae Shinoda (Honami Sato) after killing Nanae’s abusive husband. It is a graphic, and lethargically paced LGBTQ+ update of Thelma & Louise, that runs a gruelling 140 minutes.
The film opens with Rei being picked up by Nanae’s husband at a bar for sex at his apartment. After a graphic scene filmed in one, long take, she stabs him, and ends his life after a prolonged struggle that sees blood literally sprayed all over the room and her naked body. Ten minutes in, and it’s incredibly uncomfortable how this movie with a lesbian protagonist depicts her in a way resembling a softcore, straight porn film for the sake of a shocking opening.
The next twenty minutes then establish (in flashback) Rei’s backstory, her family and her current girlfriend, and her reunion with her childhood crush Nanae. Nanae takes off her clothes to reveal the bruises from her marriage — she also takes off her bra, and we see flashbacks of her husband beating her because, apparently, her marks weren’t enough to convey why Rei decides to avenge her. Also, while we learn the details of Rei’s life leading to the murder, we still don’t know why she would undertake such drastic action for someone she hasn’t seen in a decade.
That’s the first half hour: if another 110 minutes of awkward violence, sex and nudity, as well as inexplicable character decisions appeal to you, then go for it. For everyone else, it’s the mindnumbing tale of a doomed relationship that also wants to have its cake and eat it: it becomes very clear that Rei and Nanae have a toxic relationship, one that was motivated by Nanae’s need to get rid of her husband, and yet the movie is full of serene, tender moments that try to persuade us their love is real.
The movie is full of uninterrupted shots with little incidental music, that make you feel you’re actually there on location, which proves to be a detriment: as immature as it sounds, pacing is a huge reason for why you enjoy something, and slow pacing doesn’t work if what you’re seeing isn’t interesting, as it feels like you’re having an especially tedious day on set. In-between the lead pair’s emotional arguments, and the sex scenes, there’s not a lot to be invested in: the two are often just driving, or lying together, compounding how much of a chore this is to watch. One of the film’s many flashbacks sees Nanae being pursued for shoplifting, and it is easily the slowest chase I have ever seen.
The sex and nudity is easily the worst aspect of the film though: you can really tell a straight man directed this when Rei says “it must be nice for men” to not have to use their fingers. (For the record, I haven’t read the manga, but if that line was in the source material, then Hiroki still shouldn’t have used it.) At one point — again, minor spoilers — we see one of the protagonists have sex with a man, and while I understand why it happens in-universe, it’s still questionable thematically: was it really necessary to make a point about being ashamed to be gay in a homophobic society?
On that note, LGBT rights in Japan are rather behind other G7 countries, with a lack of nationwide legal protection for LGBT people, or official recognition of same-sex unions. I can’t imagine members and supporters of the country’s dominant Liberal Democratic Party — which opposes same-sex marriage or banning discrimination against LGBT citizens — watching this movie and becoming more sympathetic towards LGBT people: it could be easily misread as depicting same-sex relationships as misguided, adolescent infatuations that do more harm than good, or that LGBT people are selfish and deceitful. I don’t interpret the film that way at all, but it doesn’t help when the flashbacks reveal Rei was groomed by an older woman as a teenager.
What is there to like about Ride or Die? Mizuhara and Sato can’t be faulted for giving the material their all, and the cinematography is incredibly luminous, beautifully portraying both the stylish, neon lights of Japan’s cities, and the nation’s tranquil countryside. What’s fascinating is how Hiroki shies away from Japan’s more distinct locations, choosing suburbs, towns or rest stops that feel like America or Europe (aside from those distinctive forested hills rising in the distance), which reminds you of how the whole world is a lot more similar than you might think.
At one point, a taxi driver tells Rei and Nanae the countryside is “really boring.” Perhaps, but I would’ve preferred to pay for a flight to doze off at a Japanese lake, than to watch this at no extra cost on Netflix.
