I appreciated the witty and energetic generic riffs of Why Don't You Play in Hell, but after catching up with Sono's other work, I see he's not for me. This is more bearable than Cold Fish, but Sono's rebelliousness feels labored and unfocused. There's no kernel of sincerity unpinning his zaniness, which just makes everything, despite the violence and provocation, feel empty and safe.
A good example of how the excess of significants and their translation into an hysterical formlessness can hinder and destroy a project with distinct and interesting scope, from the social to the artistic. Only, and only, an allegedly ridiculousness without limits.
How to sum up this astonishing film? It's a supremely bizarre, unhinged epic; a monumental meditation on life, the universe and underwear.. Themes of religious guilt, family feuds, covert cross dressing, sinister cults and martial arts-inspired upskirt voyeurism are touched upon. Alternatively, strip away all of these layers and what you're left with is a rather sweet and tender love story. Prepare to be bewildered..