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itspeachie 's review for:
After Dark
by Haruki Murakami
mysterious
reflective
fallen angels atmosphere—lonely people rubbing elbows in the nebulous city underworld over the course of a single sleepless night. those surreal in-between hours that are transformed under darkness’s “thin skin,” when the secure are fast asleep and the untethered, the existential, and the ones running from their shadows pace the neon streets and sit awake in restaurants/love hotels/office buildings/empty parks. I need to see this as a film directed by 90s wong kar-wai.
Midnight is approaching, and while the peak of activity has passed, the basal metabolism that maintains life continues undiminished, producing the basso continuo of the city's moan, a monotonous sound that neither rises nor falls but is pregnant with foreboding.
Such places open secret entries into darkness in the interval between midnight and the time the sky grows light. None of our principles have any effect there. No one can predict when or where such abysses will swallow people, or when or where they will spit them out.
The new day is almost here, but the old one is still dragging its heavy skirts. Just as ocean water and river water struggle against each other at a river mouth, the old time and the new time clash and blend.
Could she be dreaming? Or is the hint of a smile on her lips the trace of a memory? Mari has made her way through the long hours of darkness, traded many words with the night people she encountered there, and come back to where she belongs.
The night has begun to open up at last. There will be time until the next darkness arrives.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Sexual content