Suicide Club

Sion Sono's breakout begins with fifty-four smiling schoolgirls joining hands on a Shinjuku platform and stepping in front of the express, spraying the commuters, and that is the calm part. A detective chases a suicide epidemic through a bubblegum pop group, a children's phone hotline and rolls of stitched-together human skin, and Sono has no intention of tying any of it into a bow. It is a puzzle box missing half its pieces on purpose, lurching between splatter, satire and pure dread. Some of it does not work and none of it is boring. The film that told everyone to start watching this Sono person.