The Pillow Book is an explicit, erotic, exotic, arty muddle of a film – if that appeals to you, go for it!

Although it took me two attempts (several years apart) to watch this film all the way through, I found that I did appreciate the experience. It was astoundingly beautiful at points. However, I think what I took most from the viewing was from the incidental surrounding bits, not the main thread.

The Pillow Book is the story of one woman with a fetish for calligraphy, particularly on living skin. The first half of the film is a twisting look through her life, before changing atmosphere rather suddenly when she decides she wants to be a writer and is turned down by a publisher who seems to have links to more of her life than not.

What I liked: the style of the film; the beauty of much of it; Nagiko’s strength of character through much of the film; the sheer poetry of much of the imagery.

What I wasn’t so keen on: the slow pace; the rather vicious change in the feel of the final third; the way the characters took a good situation and f-.-ed it up majorly.

What I would warn you about: the film’s theme is pleasures of the flesh, and pleasures of literature. If repeated shots of male genitalia are going to disturb you, you definitely want to avoid this one.

What I’m keeping from it: the idea of a ‘pillow book’, something less and something more than a diary.