Chô-inran: Shimai donburi

After the murder of a local woman, the police investigations of a suspect forces him to relive the experience of being tempted by sisters who live next door that turn him into a vampire like them and sends him out on a killing spree on his neighbors and forcing him to stop himself.

This is a rather high-brow type of pinku film. A lot of this is the fact that this goes in a different direction by offering a touch of class to the proceedings rather than the out-and-out exploitation efforts usually featured here. There are plenty of scenes here featuring more traditional camera-work and setups that would be found in other pink films of that time, from the stylized cinematography showing the sisters leaving the apartment and being out on the hunt to the scenes of the two making love in her apartment framed by a series of ornamental statues lying in the room. These shots, as well as intricately-arranged scenes spread liberally throughout the movie, make it feel much bigger and grander than a traditional pink film and really elevate the film. Likewise, production values are certainly high and most elements present, from the strong sex scenes that have a hint of erotic charm during all the scenes featured, such as the scene in his apartment that ends up turning him into the vampire and the different scenes of him going through the different natives in the village around him. Even more shocking is the grand gore-shot at the end which is exceptionally graphic with plenty of fun bloodshed and leaves quite an impression. While these work well for the film, it does have some major problems. The biggest is undoubtedly the film's script, which is wafer-thin and really lacks much of the smarts it thinks it has. The film's admittedly shocking finale works on the extreme it goes to rather than any sort of twist or any other turn of events since by going through the motion of the police-investigation-backstory the way this plays out, the ending is telegraphed from the opening frames of the film and ambles on to this predictable finish. Furthermore, the sisters' erratic behavior and quirks telegraph their true nature from the start and his inability to recognize this allows him to look foolish for not seeing what the audience knows all along. This is all the fault of the decision to do the whole film with this investigative angle. As well, the final twist has little resonance or impact having been used numerous times since which dilutes the impact it has, letting the film end on a somewhat sour note overall.

Rated Unrated/X: Continuous Full Nudity, Graphic Sex Scenes, Extreme Graphic Violence and Graphic Language.

Apparently the recipient of numerous awards at the no-doubt- prestigious Pink Grand Prix, TWILIGHT DINNER, despite these plaudits, shares less with the landmark classics of Japanese erotica than it does your average American direct-to-video soft-core flick. Playing less like a fully formed narrative than an exhaustingly over-inflated first act stretched to (just barely) feature length, it's crafted well enough for what it is, but unfortunately what it is doesn't amount to all that much.

The whisper-thin plot follows grad student Kazuhiko's infatuation with a pair of sisters who have moved in next door. Consistently dressed in black and rarely appearing in the daytime (and always shrouded by sunglasses and a parasol), the women's erratic behavior screams "vampire" from the start. Nevertheless, love is blind, and Kazuhiko ends up seduced by the elder of the pair, who takes the opportunity to engage in some none-to-gentle nibbling on his neck. Overcome by a ravenous (and – in one legitimately surprising scene – bisexual) erotic hunger, Kazuhiko is soon ravaging his way through the neighborhood, his uncontrollable urge quickly driving him to an even more shocking climax…

This final scene – presumably the film's sole raison d'etre – I won't spoil here, though the film does a pretty good job itself by adopting a shopworn police interrogation flashback structure that spells out where it's headed from essentially the opening frame. With this surprise out of the way, there's little left to do but slowly go through the motions, with Kazuhiko taking the majority of the run time to discover something the audience already knows from the start – that his neighbors are vampires. The cast is game and the sex scenes photographed well enough, but the production overall has a lonely, threadbare quality redolent more of cheapo mid-'90s American soft- core (long dialogue scenes played out in echoey rooms, a skimpy roster of rotating locations and cast members) than high- quality erotica. A glorified cameo by director (and frequent pink star) Kazuhiro Sano is certainly welcome, but unfortunately serves mostly as a reminder of his own far superior work.