
An assassin raised inside a weird Catholic hitman cult begins to reassess her life after falling for a reporter trying to expose the cult’s wrongdoings in Masaru Konuma’s adaptation of the novel by Mangetsu Hanamura, XX Beautiful Hunter (XX ダブルエックス 美しき狩人, XX: Utsukushiki Karyudo). In the classic V-Cinema mode, the film is a guns and girls crime thriller, though in other ways perhaps unusual in exploring the heroine’s gradual liberation in the wake of her sexual awakening.
Shion (Makiko Kuno) comes of age twice, in the sense that in the opening sequence in which she undergoes a kind of baptism to become a “warrior of God,” she appears to get her period shortly after shooting her first target. Raised by the priest whom she calls “Father”, Shion is an emotionless killing machine with seemingly no thoughts at all beyond completing her mission. She does not even really seem to subscribe to the religion and is killing because Father told her to rather than for the glory of God while most of her targets are political figures that have become inconvenient. We can see both how little women are valued in this world and what a bad guy Ishizaki is when he uses his wife as a human shield before being dispassionately assassinated by Shion who does not particularly care about the collateral damage as long her primary target is killed. When the reporter she falls in love with, Ito (Johnny Okura), asks her what she’d do if he tried to run in a crowded public place, she says that she’d shoot him and that a lot of people would die, as if didn’t matter to her on either moral or practical grounds. Strangely, no one seems to react very much to the sound of a gun being fired even when Shion uses hers to bust open a coin locker, so perhaps she simply doesn’t worry about the laws of man.
But she is rattled by Ito’s photo of her executing his friend Sakuma because it reflects something of herself she didn’t want to see and has perhaps been repressing. Ito suggests that maybe she just likes killing people, which seems to bother Shion on some level, but an attempt to masturbate with her gun does indeed suggest a link between killing and sexual pleasure. It is though sexual contact with Ito that seems to awaken her when he rather strangely begins giving her oral sex after tearing at her clothes pleading for his life. As though imprinting on him, Shion becomes fascinated by Ito and the “normality” he represents. He gives her a crash course in dating while seemingly deprogramming her by getting her to eat meat and do “normal” things like going on drives in her sports car. Shion also starts dressing in more noticeably feminine fashions echoing the link between her baptism and coming of age with the suppression of her womanhood.
It’s through this sexual liberation that Shion begins to break away from her programming and ask questions of the cult such as who her real parents were. Father seems to have a stoical attitude, exclaiming that “women are all the same” as if he knew this day would come and that Shion has evolved on falling in love. He seems to welcome this development on one level, but at the same time reduces Shion from the beautiful weapon he’s created to maternal vessel in suggesting that her true destiny lies in childbirth and that his dream is to hold her child whom he will presumably also train as an assassin.
Meanwhile, the cult also paradoxically tries to use sex to control by subjecting her to a torture session at the hands of a lesbian dominatrix who insists she’ll show her a heaven men can never know and make her forget all about men. She does this by inserting a giant electrified dildo, which paints a very confusing picture of the cult’s views on sex, whether hetero or homosexual, penetrative or not. Ito turns up to “save” her, but thankfully it isn’t a case of a random man walking in and taking over, so much as providing a distraction for Shion to save herself while further empowering her with the motivation of love. In this world, however, love is futile and elusive. Even after freeing herself from the oppressive control of Father, Shion loses everything and intends to end her life only to turn around with another gesture of defiance though whether one of the killing machine reasserting itself or the desire for life overriding her nascent pain is difficult to say.

When examining the influences of classic European cinema on Japanese filmmaking, you rarely end up with Fellini. Nevertheless, Fellini looms large over the indie comedy Choklietta (チョコリエッタ) and the director, Shiori Kazama, even leaves a post-credits dedication to Italy’s master of the surreal as a thank you for inspiring the fifteen year old her to make movies. Full of knowing nods to the world of classic cinema, Chokolietta is a charming, if over long, coming of age drama which becomes a meditation on both personal and national notions of loss.