A Snake of June

A Snake of June makes you uncomfortable, but you can’t look away. Director Shinya Tsukamoto sets everything during Japan’s rainy season, and you hear water constantly. It creates this wet, suffocating atmosphere that matches the story perfectly.

Rinko works at a suicide hotline and seems quiet and reserved. Her husband Shigehiko is obsessed with keeping everything clean and organized. Their marriage feels completely dead. Then Rinko receives secret photos of herself from a stranger who blackmails her into doing bizarre things. What starts as creepy stalking turns into something that forces both her and her husband to face what they’ve been hiding from themselves.

This movie is hard to watch at times. Some scenes made me squirm. But nothing feels like it’s there just for shock value. Tsukamoto uses the discomfort to explore shame, control, and how we bottle up our real feelings. It’s not his usual body horror style. This time he digs into sexuality and emotional numbness instead.

The visuals are stunning. Shot in black and white with a blue tint, everything looks cold and wet. The camera traps people in tight spaces and keeps moving restlessly. The sound design hits just as hard. Rain, echoes, and harsh metallic music create this dreamlike mood that stays with you.

I’m still not sure how I feel about this film. Is it about healing or is it just twisted? Either way, it stuck in my head for days. Tsukamoto proves that real horror isn’t about monsters. Sometimes the scariest thing is what we’re hiding inside ourselves. This felt less like a movie and more like a dark, uncomfortable dream.