Reality television is supposed to be a guilt-free excursion to the bottom of the barrel. It’s always easy to return to clips of Matt Hancock gobbling camel penis or anything featuring Gemma Collins, at the behest of my ever-expanding film watchlist. However, reality television has dark origins, beginning with a naked Japanese man called Nasubi. This documentary tells the story of his humiliation, starvation, and subsequent ascension to stardom after appearing on the fledgling 1990s reality television show Denpa Shonen. This is not guilt-free viewing, closer instead to a doomscrolling spiral into despondence.

Masterminded by producer Toshio Tsuchiya, the self-identifying Darth Vader of the Japanese television industry, Denpa Shonen saw aspiring entertainer Tomoaki Hamatsu – nicknamed Nasubi or “eggplant” – blindfolded, taken to a bare room, stripped naked, and left alone with a rack of magazines and a camera. This is the challenge “A Life in Prizes”, where Nasubi must survive on prizes won in magazine and radio competitions. Winnings vary from sacks of rice to dog food, with the ultimate goal of accruing one million yens worth of prizes to escape. As if the scenario couldn’t get any more dystopian, Nasubi is unaware that footage of his plight is broadcast weekly and livestreamed, turning him into a national laughingstock.

The documentary rarely deviates from the original Denpa Shonen footage, following Nasubi’s declining mental state closely as he stalks the compact room in the buff (an eggplant emoji censors his genitals, possibly the origins of the double entendre). There is little creative intervention from director Clair Titley, mostly manifest in English re-dubs of the original Japanese voiceovers, making for a discomforting viewing experience which is both totally immersive but narrow.

It is irritating further when the talking heads with the main players, alternating with footage from the original broadcasts, use a light touch on a heavy subject. Questions about Nasubi’s financial compensation and legal ramifications for Tsuchiya aren’t addressed and all parties seem weirdly blasé about the near torture they either experienced or orchestrated. Soon, a jarring dissonance between the interviews and harrowing broadcast footage begins to itch, dilating as Nasubi’s horrors worsen.

Goal posts are moved, and crushing revelations make way for an overriding sense of hopelessness. Any wider commentary on reality television or stardom, not that much is attempted, is subsumed by the brutality of Asubi’s nightmare, leaving the viewer to shoulder his burden with no sign of reprieve. There is value in staring into the void, but some suggestions for patching it up would be appreciated.

An uplifting epilogue does swoop in for some relief, but it feels insignificant next to the injustice Nasubi experienced. Nihilism has already set in at this point, mixed with a sense of dread akin to witnessing Nigel Farage enter I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here! Only here, Ant and Dec aren’t available to ease the pain.

Little White Lies is committed to championing great movies and the talented people who make them.

By becoming a member you can support our independent journalism and receive exclusive essays, prints, film recommendations and more.