R100 actually seems like a normal movie for 40 minutes or so, even if its setup is a little out-there. A man leads a quietly desperate life, working as a store salesman and tending his young son, while his wife lies in a long-term coma. He signs on with an unusual escort service, one that provides an outlet for his hidden masochistic fantasies: For a year, a series of leather-clad women will show up unexpectedly to dole out physical punishment or public humiliation. He can’t get out of the contract once it begins, and he quickly learns that a dominatrix is likely to pop up at the most awkward moments.
Like I said, a normal movie. But then Hitoshi Matsumoto’s film begins to stretch out into full-on gonzo nuttiness, starting with the first of a series of scenes of state censors exiting a screening room. They are evidently in the midst of watching R100, and they’re not pleased about the film’s outrageous content.