Three is better than one in ‘Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy’

This article contains spoilers for “Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy.”

A trilogy of seemingly separate tales of love and regret are delicately woven together in “Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy” through heart-wrenching reality, shocking revelations, and intriguing ambiguity. Writer-director Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, creates a wonderful fusion of storytelling that replicates the profound and complicated nature of intimate relationships. The film’s bare sound design and basic camerawork foster a sense of overwhelming authenticity that is carried through each of the three stories. The episodic structure of the film is unique as it is effective, providing Hamaguchi with an excuse to play with time. Despite the lack of a continuous plot, he keeps his audience engaged with several moments of surprising tension throughout the film’s two-hour runtime.

As previously alluded to, “Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy” is broken up into three distinct vignettes that all take place in Japan. The first, titled Magic (or Something Less Assuring), unpacks a messy romantic entanglement. Gumi (Hyunri), a producer for her best friend and model Meiko (Kotone Furukawa), looks to her for advice on a budding romance with a potential lover. The only problem? The man in question is Kazu (Ayumu Nakajimi), Meiko’s ex-boyfriend whom she still loves.

Upon realizing this, Meiko immediately pays Kazu a visit to confront him about the situation. The two share a lengthy back and forth that reveals their deep-seated feelings and unresolved toxic connection. The scene’s emotional range is vast, rapidly alternating between visible moments of anger, frustration, lust, and pain. The traditional camera movements and fixed camera angles make the viewer feel as though they are in the room with the dysfunctional duo. This fly-on-the-wall perspective adds to the overall anxiety and unpredictable essence of both the scene and their love affair.

“There is a rhythm in our spats,” Meiko admits as she alternates between professing her undying love for Kazu and struggling with her inability to stay faithful to him.

The empty office space is the perfect playground for Hamaguchi to emphasize the beautiful yet upsetting language in the script. The silence is deafening, and their vocals reverberate through the room as each line cuts through the tinny acoustics with a sharpness that underscores the problematic interaction. Also, static continuously hisses through their dialogue. This is not a mistake by Hamaguchi or the audio team, but instead an intentional decision to make the viewer feel as uncomfortable as possible.

The second episode, Door Wide Open, pits Sasaki (Shouma Kai), an angry college student seeking revenge for being held back, against his professor, Segawa (Kiyohiko Shibukawa). Sasaki persuades Nao (Katsuki Mori), a classmate he’s sexually involved with, to seduce the unknowing professor and use the evidence to destroy his image. This sequence is a showcase of mental fortitude as Segawa not only refuses Nao’s sexual advances but also causes her to reveal her true intentions.

Hamaguchi continues to strip back the cinematic elements of his film so that the reality of the situation shines through. This results in an incredibly slow, dialogue-laden conversation that at times can feel quite prolonged and even tiring. That being said, Hamaguchi brilliantly orchestrates a repetitive pattern wherein the two consciously (and subconsciously) grapple for control over the situation.

Despite the lack of obvious on-screen action, the convincing game of cat and mouse between Segawa and Nao is full of dramatic irony and sexual tension that keeps the viewer interested. Segawa’s stone-cold facial expressions opposite Nao’s sultry voice establish a strikingly effective dichotomy. This pattern of slow-burn goes on for several minutes just long enough for Hamaguchi to lull the audience into a trance and let their guard down.

Shortly after exposing the reason for her visit, Nao apologizes for her intrusion and breach of trust and agrees to send Segawa a copy of their sexually explicit recording. Suddenly, the story cuts to five years later and unveils a shocking turn of events.

Nao accidentally sent the email to their university, which subsequently wrecks her marriage and ruins his career. This subversion of expectations act as a satisfying, albeit heartbreaking surprise and a complete recalibration of the episode in large part due to the painstaking buildup.

The third and final installment, titled Once Again, follows Natsuko (Fusako Urabe) after she coincidentally runs into her first love during a chance encounter. The woman invites her into her home and the two spend the afternoon together. As they reminisce, Natsuko gradually builds up the courage during their meeting to confront her “ex-lover.” She confesses how she truly feels just to find out that the woman is a lonely housewife named Aya (Aoba Kawai) who had never met Natsuko before. This is a jarring realization for both Natsuko and the audience and dramatically shifts the dynamics of the situation.

Aya apologizes for the confusion and even offers to pretend to be the woman Natsuko thought she was. Despite initial hesitancy, her deep regret and lack of closure persuade her imagination to take over as Aya pretends to be the woman she loves.

Later, Natsuko returns the favor by recreating a joyful scene from Aya’s childhood that elicits emotions of visible joy and peaceful nostalgia. What started as an embarrassing miscommunication blossomed into a beautiful pairing between two very different people dealing with similar feelings of loneliness and unhappiness. Hamaguchi illustrates how life’s complexities can sometimes be solved with something as simple as a special bond between strangers.

“Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy” is an exercise in recreating authentic life experiences, both hopeful and depressing. Hamaguchi removes auditory enhancements and relies largely on the organic, diegetic sounds of Japan’s various indoor and outdoor settings. He toys with the audience’s expectations and utilizes an unpredictable narrative approach that keeps them guessing. Although there is no crossover in terms of plot and character development from story to story, his message, and the various thematic elements he uses to deliver it, prove that the three tales aren’t so separate after all.