The Ghost of Yotsuya

The Ghost of Yotsuya
Original Title: Tôkaido Yotsuya kaidan
Directed by: Nobuo Nakagawa
Japan, 1959
Horror / Drama, 76min
Distributed by: Beam Entertainment / Eclipse Films OOP

Did you ever wonder where all those traits that defined the past decade of J-Horror came from? Because you didn’t really think that Koji Suzuki, Hideo Nakata and Takashi Shimizu where responsible for the pale faced, longhaired drowned woman spectre did you… Nah not really, because what they did was simply tap into their own cultural heritage and more or less just revamp one of the oldest and most iconic images of their past legends and mix it up with some classic Western horror storytelling.

The masterful Nobuo Nakagawa’s The Ghost of Yotsuya shows exactly where the inspiration for his impressive piece comes from straight off the bat. There’s no hiding the source at all here as the movie opens just like if it where a taping of Kabuki performance. The candles are lit, the curtains are drawn and the performance begins. A young samurai – Iemon Tamiya [Shigeru Amachi who starred in several of Nakagawa's movies] begs Samon [Shinjirô Asano] for his daughter Iwa’s hand. Unfortunately Iemon’s reputation act against him, and Samon once again rejects the love hungry samurai’s request for marriage. But the apparent gruff between the two is rooted in a deeper, previous conflict and sick of being humiliated by the hash words and name-calling, Iemon draws his sword and strikes down Samon and his crew… the camera delicately pulling behind and past the trees of the set to spare showing us bloodshed at this early point in the movie. Iemon’s servant Naosuke [Shuntarô Emi] offers to take care of the bodies and then continues his moment, by framing Ozawa Usaburo instead when he reminds Samon’s daughters that Usaburo once tried to rob their father once before… The sisters decide to postpone marriage plans between the elder sister Sode [Noriko Kitazawa – also a Nakagawa regular] and Yomoshichi [Ryûzaburô Nakamura] whilst they take time to avenge their murdered father…

Again a baleful twist is presented when Iwa turns to Iemon and asks him to join them on their journey of vengeance. Along the way, a second even more sinister plan is presented, as Iemon and his sidekick plan to do away with Yomoshichi so that they can each take a sister as wife! Again Naosuke manipulates the women with his lies, blames Usaburo and suggests that the split up with one sister each – Iemon with Iwa as she is sick, and Naosuke with Sode - to take up the hunt for Usaburo…

There’s almost a Shakespearean atmosphere holding the story in a firm grasp at this point in time. It’s a brilliant set up as the killer is appearing to get away with their murderous ways, and as an audience we are confused about who we should identify with as none of the leading male characters have yet to show any sympathetic traits. Time passes Iemon and Iwa now live in Edo. Iermon makes a living as a crafter of umbrellas and Iwa has given birth to their son. There’s a saddens and a bitterness in their relationship as Iwa misses her sister Sode and still awaits Iemon to avenge her father… still not knowing that it was he who slew him all those years ago. We also learn that Naosuke has more or less forced Sode into a complicated relationship where they pretend to married, but in reality she can’t stand him; although once vengeance is taken she has agreed to become Naosuke’s wife.

During a stroll Iemon stops a ruckus concerning a young woman and is rewarded by the Itô family for saving their reputation. Iemon falls head over heals in love with the daughter Ume [Junko Ikeuchi]. At home, Iwa’s constant complaining of the lack of funds, and the fact that Iemon still hasn’t taken the promised revenge, Iemon starts spending more and more time in te company of Ume. Iwa’s friend Takuetsu [Jun Ôtomo] alerts her to the facts of Iemon’s nightly activities with Ume, but Iwa refuses to believe him and rejects all rumours with a stern belief that Iemon wouldn’t do such a thing… Ohhh but he does, and once again it’s all due to the manipulative hand of Naosuke who reckons that it’s time for Iemon to move on up in the social ladder and their diabolical plan is set in motion… Frame Iwa with her friend Taketsu posing as her lover (every man has a price, even if the cash is coming from Imeaon) and then after renouncing Iwa, Iemon can wed Ume.

But it wouldn’t be viewed as classic piece of tragedy if there’s wasn’t some sardonic twist along the way. Taketsu can’t go through with the plan, and reveals Iemon’s evil scheme to Iwa, who at the time has already been poisoned by her husband. Iemon busts down the door, accuses Taketsu and Iwa, and slashes them both down with his sword. Moments later, Iemon and Naosuke dump the bodies in the swamp and Naosuke can’t contain his joy as they are now finally set to become rich. The movie shifts into its last act and that’s where the ghost part of the story takes a firm hold of the narrative. After her harrowing ordeal of poisoning, disfigurement and death, the spirit of Iwa returns to take her own vengeance on the men who did her so much wrong, and believe me they all get what is coming to them, as nothing holds a fury such as a woman scorned.

Nobuo Nakagawa’s The Ghost of Yotsuya is one of the definitive Kabuki ghost stories. Yes Kabuki, as this is where the Japanese horror has it’s roots - before Rampo Edogawa shook things up with his own style of Ero Groto that is... Since the 14th century the old theatrical art form Noh and Kabuki dealt with legend and folklore in one way or another. The Noh commonly used themes of ghosts out for revenge in the shuramono [ghosts] and shunen [revenge] genres, and the Kabuki had it’s Kaidan themes - themes of ghosts, mystery and horror. Within the Kabuki you find the two styles Wagoto, which tells romantic or comedic themed stories, and Aragot, which is the tougher variant that uses ghosts, vicious gods, demons and fearless warrior heroes. Mix them all together and you get the backbone of the Kaidan, the same ghost-horror-mystery stories that make up inspiration for the J-Horror genre.

The Ghost of Yotsuya is based on the writings of Tsurya Nanboku and is one of the finest interpretations of the story which has been made into a movie some whopping thirty times. The first being Japanese movie pioneer Shozu Makino’s version from 1912. And it’s here that the legend of Oiwa and Iemon is first found, and it’s Oiwa that I’m calling the template for all drowned female ghosts to come. The terrifying disgruntled female spirit, back from the dead to claim her revenge. Her strong characteristics always hold the same image code – the weary eye, the wet hair draped over her face, the disfigurement – the same that Rampo would take further within his own niche – it’s a frequent reoccurring image in most of those J-Horror pieces. Ringu, Ôdishin, Grudge, Tomie, and so on. Images that we look upon as the image of modern Japanese horror even though the gore drenched grotesque revival has had a damned good run these last couple of years.

Nobuo Nakagawa should absolutely be considered the grand master of the Japanese fantastic genre. More than your average straightforward ghost vengeance pieces, his movies frequently use some superb subplots to drive the narrative beyond the common Kaidan. In The Ghost of Yotsuya it’s obviously the greedy and obsessive servant/partner Naosuke who seizes the moment of Iemon’s initial frustration and uses it to achieve his own goals the whole way through. He’s also the character who more or less acts as Iemon’s conscious, even though he’s committed crimes equally vile to Iemon’s. It’s a great use of subplot and supporting characters that can be seen in many of Nakagawa’s Kaidan pieces.

His movies are extremely well crafted; they look astonishing and deal with some great themes that where pretty controversial at the time he made these movies. One such is his classic Jigoku (Hell) 1960 which instead of painting an imaginary image of hell takes the audience right into the fiery bowls themselves and serves up some delicious pre-splatter gore effects that still work their magic. And another thing that always impresses me with each Nakagawa ghost story I see is that he really knew how to deceive the eye with elegant tricks.

His ferocious style of editing and in camera tricks, which are very evident in his earlier movie Kaidan Kasane-ge-fuchi (The Ghost of Kasana Swamp) 1957 - which just like The Ghost of Yotsuya is based on classic Noh theatre - in The Ghost of Yotsuya, Nakagawa takes it up a notch, refines the traits he skilled himself at in previous movies, and also uses the colour schemes of his first horror in colour to shocking effect. Pasty blue grey spectres set against hard contrasting backgrounds that really have the compositions and imagery pop off the screen. It’s beautiful stuff indeed and very fitting for a masterpiece of Japanese cinema that comes highly recommended.

Image:
(2.35 : 1) presented in 16:9 Anamorphic Widescreen.

Audio:
Dolby Digital Stereo 2.0 Japanese Dialogue with optional English subtitles.

Extras:
Cast and Crew Biographies.

Samurai Princess

Samurai Princess
Original Title: Samurai purinsesu: Gedô-hime
Directed by: Kengo Kaji
Japan, 2009
Splatter/Chanbara/Sci-Fi, 82min
Distributed by: Njuta Films

...and on the topic of splatter movies, there’s no hesitation at mind when I say that the Japanese are rightfully making an impressive claim to the throne of innovative splatter flick makers. Some of the stuff that is coming out in Japan and finding it’s way across the ocean thanks to enthusiastic distributors is absolutely fabulous. It certainly does ooze with that same aura of a over energetic kid jumping up and down waving it’s hand, screaming look at me, look at me, and they certainly are fun.

Being a fan of both Higuchinsky’s amazing Uzumaki 2000 and Yoshihiro Nishimura’s Tokyo Gore Police 2008 – which both saw Kengo Kaji involved with their writing process, I obviously was curious of what he would have come up for his first theatrical feature with when I initially heard of Samurai Princess. Also the fact that he was teaming up with Nishimura again, this time with Nishimura producing and supervising the special effects obviously saturated the movie with a certain attraction.

In a quick fix let’s say that the movie is all about a young woman - the only survivor after bandits rape and murder twelve schoolgirls - get’s the chance to be reborn as a Cyborg and take revenge on the band of killers. And that’s the starting point for a violent and entropic journey that will leave a river of mutilated corpses and rivers of blood in its trail.

What at first may seem like a pretty shallow and simple story is somewhat evolved take and ironic gaze upon the age-old legend of Frankenstein. You can’t play God and create life without paying the ultimate price. It’s when the realisation that the person giving Samurai Princess [AV starlet Aino Kishi] her chance to avenge her friends – even if it is reanimated as Cyborg with a stern operative programme – the enigmatic scientist Insanity, is at the same time responsible for unleashing the gang of foul murderers roaming the lands that the ironic twist becomes apparent. And in the quest to take out the people responsible for murdering and raping her eleven friends, the path leads right up to Insanity.

Samurai Princess may be pretty low on story and packed with glorious ultra violence, but at some point I feel that these movies in many ways are linked to those great movies that spawned that brilliant series of female avenger movies. Movies like Shunya Itô’s Female Convict movies [1972-1973] and Toshiya Fujita’s Lady Snowblood [1973-1974] films starring Meiko Kaji and obviously come to mind. Nothing is as empathetic as a gorgeous young woman out for vengeance. And taking the best of Japanese cinema I find the mix of old style feudal Chanbara and modern cyberpunk sci-fi to work like a charm.

There’s also an aura of Edogawa Rampo seeping throughout the movie – everyone is disfigured in one way or another, not to mention modified to their Cyborg states which are almost never the beautiful glossy Cyborg that we are used to, but slimy, grotesque and disfigured modifications – which definitely brings a Ero guro style to the movie.

God knows that mixing genre’s sometimes can go terribly wrong, but in Samurai Princess it works pretty well, and it’s a pretty interesting approach to set futuristic cyberpunk elements inside an obvious feudal state complete with Shogunate laws and Buddhist philosophy. In a way it is reminiscent of some of the more innovative scenes from Takashi Miike’s misunderstood IZO 2004, or may very well be looked upon as a wild mix of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner 1982, Yukio Noda’s phenomenal Zeroka no onna: Akai wappa (Zero Woman: Red Handcuffs) 1974, and Ryûhei Kitamura’s breakthrough Versus 2000. And you can’t get into this movie without thinking of Tetsuro Takeuchi’s Wild Zero 2000 as Samurai Princess partner on the journey, Moonray [Dai Mizuno] has a very interesting weapon of choice, an electric guitar that can summon up whirlwinds of lethal riffs.

So yeah, it’s not a movie made to impress with it’s immaculate screenwriting or fascinating plot if that’s what you are after, but then you shouldn’t be on this blog either, but in the library reading some book without illustrations that discusses the theoretical aspects of off-screen framing in the works of Yasujiro Ozu. Which is a fascinating discussion in it's own right, but not something that’s going to be taking place here any day soon. Instead what you get is almost an hour and a half of hilarious in-your-face gore fest that takes the ball and runs with it.

Samurai Princess may have some technical flaws – I can never really get used to movies shot on Digital Video as I’ll always be a sucker for the old grain of celluloid, but then again it does give the filmmakers unlimited possibilities to fuck around with digital effects in post even when restrained by a tight budget. And that’s exactly what Kengo Kaji and Yoshihiro Nishimura have done with Samurai Princess, you get used to the crispy video look, the effects sweep you away and the magic of moviemaking is simply fantastic. Mixing prosthetics with CG is fine by me if it’s done in the right way. Breast Missiles, Chainsaw legs, scissor feet, fountains of blood, entail Kusari-gama, screwed up mutants you name it and you get it.

Certainly in the same style of Tokyo Gore Police or even Noburo Iguchi's Kataude mashin gâru (The Machine Girl), Samurai Princess gets the job done. It’s a blast of a little movie, and to top things off Kaji makes the most of his adult video star Aino Kishi and works some nudity into the movie by letting her have a little erotic fantasy about Moonbeam in a scene that should have earned the movie the under title Do Androids Dream of Naked Action Heroes.

All hail Japanese Extreme Cinema as these guys are rushing ahead when it comes to taking classic narratives and using them in a new inventive fashion. Long live the new blood!

Image:
1.85:5 Anamorphic Widescreen.

Audio:
Dolby Digital 5.1, Japanese audio, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish and Finnish Subtitles are optional.

Extras:
Original Trailer, a twenty minute Making of featurette and trailers for other movies released by Njuta Films.

Kengo Kaji’s Samurai Princess hits the Scandinavian DVD shelves at the end of June thanks to the enthusiastic boys and girls at Njuta Films.

Horrors of Malformed Men

Horrors of Malformed Men

Original Title: Kyôfu ikei ningen: Edogawa Rampo zenshû

Directed by: Teruo Ishii

Euo guro (Erotic/Grotesque), 99 min

Japan, 1969

Distributed by: Synapse Films

There’s a popular misconception that Japanese horror movies are a recent novelty that starts with the success of Hideo Nakata’s Ringu 1998. Yes, it’s true, several people recently looked completely puzzled when I noted that J-Horror is in no way a new entry into the horror genre, although the name may be new as we have an anal need to categorize themes and topics into one definable slot, the Japanese horror scene has always been an item. J-Horror and Ringu as we know it, based on Koji Suzuki’s splendid book Ringu, was already shot in two different versions before the international success had genre fans looking to Japan and Asia for the next big thing. In 1995, director Chisu Takigawa directed a TV movie based on Suzuki’s book. The TV movie opted to focus on the sexual relations of the kids instead of the profound terror found in the source material and it comes off more like an episode of O.C., The Hills or even Beverly Hills with a supernatural element thrown in. Following this there was even a sequel produced Rasen, directed by Jôji Iida in 1998, the same year that Nakata revisited the original text only to end up with an international hit on his hands which opened the floodgates for Japanese and Asian horror in the same way directors like Ringo Lam and John Woo shot their way to fame with their ballistic ballets during the late eighties.

J-Horror isn’t new in any way and the tales told within the J-Horror sphere are really folktales modernized for a new audience. The origins of the J-horror iconography, themes and style have their foundation in the Kabuki and Noh theatre of feudal Japan. During the sixties, directors like Nobuo Nakagawa, Kaneto Shindô and Masaki Kobayashi where shooting movies that relied heavily on their ancestors folktales, and just like the J–Horror wave, the antagonist was more than often a bloated woman with long hair hanging over her face out to claim revenge from her frequent male wrongdoers.

It would be a far stretch to say Teuro Ishii’s once banned for decades, Horror of Malformed Men is a horror movie, as it in all honesty won’t scare anyone these days. It is more of a thriller, whodunit movie with elements of horror aesthetics interwoven in the narrative. But that can’t really be discussed without first talking about Edogawa Rampo first. Rampo was the pseudonym of Japanese writer Tarô Hira, who mainly wrote "pulpy" detective stories in the fashion of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Maurice Leblanc. Many of these detective stories incorporated themes and elements of the fantastic, the erotic and on many occasion saw lead character super detective Kogorô Akechi go up against a varied assortment of mastermind criminals set out to succeed with the perfect crime, such as the antagonist in Kenji Fukasaku’s campy pop-art masterpiece Black Lizard 1968. But Rampo also frequented the fantastic and horror scenes, where the influences of the gothic and Edgar Allen Poe are obvious, his pen name; Edogawa Rampo is a Japanese rendering of Poe’s name. (Painfully obvious when you see it isn’t it) These stories often saw disfigured or seriously wounded characters in key roles; the monsters taking command. It is from his original text Panorama-tô kitan (The Strange Tale of Paranormal Island) that the main source to Ishii’s Horror’s of Malformed Men can be found, but Ishii knew his Rampo and used several other stories of Rampo’s to bump the script up several notches. Among them The Twins that later was shot as Gemini 1999 by Shinya Tsukamoto.

Teuro Ishii was no stranger to the genre either, and just like Takashi Miike in later years, Ishii could direct up to ten movies a year! After a few years of working for the Shintoho studio, Ishii moved to Toei Studios, and with declining cinema vsitors due to the novelty of TV, he quickly became the right man in the right spot as the Pinky Violence movies hit the silver screens. With a couple of successful Pinku flicks to his name (The Joy of Torture 1968 and Orgies of Edo 1969 to name two) he finally got to make the movie that all those Edogawa Rampo stories had influenced, Horrors of Malformed Men. But instead of becoming the success that he expected, it soon vanished from the screens banned from being shown and plummeted into oblivion.

Still there's the question why was Teuro Ishii’s Horrors of Malformed Men banned in Japan? It isn’t more sexually explicit than other movies of the time, neither is it more visually violent than contemporary movies… But still it was banned never the less, hence becoming one of Japanese cinemas’ most notorious oddities.

Sure by today’s standards it is quite a gentle movie, but the ban was not due to a public outcry, there where no fainting and vomiting in the aisles, there was no audience fleeing from the theatres disgusted with what they saw on screen… They left the cinemas confused and dazed. Where the title, Horrors of Malformed Men may have led the paying blue-collar audience to believe that they where going to be in for a damned good freak show with loads of smut, gore and violence, they got a suggestive, mystic movie with performer Tatsumi Hijakata’s Butoh dance spastically strutting around on screen. Instead the ban came from the studio itself as Toei, worked up about the movie and the lacking results at the box-office, in their panic that the movie would offend someone put it on the shelf and banned it.

Being a land of stern rules, ethics and strictness, the cultural elite turned their backs on Tatsumi Hijakata’s Butoh during the fifties considering it ridiculous, embarrassing, scandalous an definitely not Japanese dancing. Luckily the western world embraced Butoh and today it is definitely a dance that is strongly associated with Japan. There’s a sweet irony in the fact that western worlds took to too Hijakata’s Butoh, as he initially invented the dance as a protest to the way western dance had evolved.

Tapping into the collective fear of nuclear holocaust that traumatized Japan after the war, showing disfigured characters would in one way or another be provocative then, but with today’s standards it probably wouldn’t create the same reaction… but there are other topics in this grand movie that still today will provoke an audience. Try grave robbing, two gender Siamese twins, incest and necrophillic relations for a starter!

Starting off with a superb collage of some awesome spiders to get your flesh creeping during the opening sequence, Ishii next slings us into pitch black as we hear Hirosuke Hitomi [Teruo Yoshida, the leading man from Hajime Sato’s excellent GOKE – The Bodysnatcher from Hell 1968] tell us that this tale starts in a gray room, an unusual room… The camera pans down from the eyes of a woman, eyes that will get those Asian horror references going trough your mind, it continues down revealing the woman’s naked breasts before finally landing on the protruding blade of a knife aimed at us the audience. A great mix of emotional signals evoked, curiosity, lust and fear.

The knife is a fake and this somewhat summarizes the movie, as the theatrics of the prop knife metaphorically refer to things not being as real as they may seem, something that will be revealed in great magnitude at the end of the movie. Hitomi is in prison for reasons untold, and in his cell he keeps having visions of a strange island, an island he also has drawn perfectly from his confusing memories of the place.

This is where Rampo’s Detective plot comes into action with the horror/grotesque. Hitomi goes about his task to solve the questions concerning the strange island, and at the same time is drawn into a murder mystery after fleeing the prison and meeting Hatsuyo [Teruko Yumi in her only acting part]. Hatsuyo is a trapeze artist at the travelling circus, and she also knows of the strange island Hitomi is trying to find for she has memories of the location too

A knife that is thrown from out of nowhere strikes down Hatsuyo and Hitomi takes to the run. During this escape he reads in the paper about the death of Genzaburô Komoda, a wealthy businessman who looks to be Hitomi’s doppelganger. This is later confirmed twice as the blind masseuse identifies the swastika scar Hitomi has on his sole as identical to one Komoda had, and shortly thereafter as Hitomi plunders Komoda’s grave to check the scar and switch identities with the deceased mirror image.

The switch of identities gives place for some really out of place slapstick tomfoolery that comes across as ridiculous in the context. If I wanted screwball monks reacting to ”ghosts” I’d have chosen a Ricky Lau or Samo Hung Kam-Bo Kung Fu horror comedy instead. But it’s only there for a few moments and then the story straightens out again, as Chiyoko [Michiko Kobata, also in her only movie role], the wife of Komodo tends to her seriously misdiagnosed, now inexplicably resurrected husband. But pulling off his plan isn’t easy as Hitomi thought, as he is constantly near to being exposed as he tries to get away with the masquerade. The traits of Komodo’s everyday life, Chiyodo the wife, Shizuko the lover, [Yukie Kagawa from Nobuo Nakagawa’s Ghost Story of the Snake Woman 1968, and Shunya Ito’s Female Convict Scorpion Jailhouse 41, the sequel to his Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion both 1972 with the magnificent Kaji Meiko] all become obstacles on his way.

Settling into his new persona he continues his investigations, but very now and then weird things happen, snakes attack the maids, disfigured beings sneak around the house, and Chiyodo dies under strange circumstances once again leaving Hitomi with a mysterious murder on his trail.

He has to make a move fast and at midpoint, Hitomi makes the decision that they have to make a trip to the island… On the beach he realizes that his visions have not been dreams, he has been there before. And this is where the movie if possible gets even more cryptic and bizarre, as the enigmatic Jôgorô [here's the splendid Tatsumi Hijikata] greets him on the shore. Hitomi is treated to a grand tour that shows him the strange beings living there, beings that Jôgorô has created. During this first night on the island Hitomi comes upon a strange house where he finds Hideko, a woman that looks just like the dead Hatsuyo! As his lust for her draws him closer he realises that she is intact a Siamese twin, joined at the hip with a hideously disfigured monster.

Eventually the terrifying secret of Hitomi’s background is exposed creating a spiral of emotions, as his world is shook to the foundations. Let me just say that the twist is family oriented! Hitomi’s bond to the horrific island and it’s inhabitants force him to take actions he never thought possible, and to put a terrific spin on the final act, guess who has come along for the ride in a sudden subplot about the investigations into where all the missing girls of Tokyo have gone? Yes, you may have guessed it, Rampo’s infamous detective Kogorô Akechi! The Komodo family manservant Shinhichi [Minoru Ohki who also starred as Akechi in Fukasaku’s Black Lizard] and through as series of flashbacks he renders the mystery, reveals the plot, exposes the culprits and brings light to the story. It’s cunning, unexpected and wonderful twist, as Rampo and Ishii don’t even give the lead protagonist Hiromi the satisfaction of explaining or solving his quest. But he does go out with a bang; I’ll give him that. (There’s even a nod at Akechi’s nemesis Back Lizard in the flashbacks) Now how’s that for a surprising use of sub plot in the last fifteen minutes!

So there you go, a bizarre, disturbing, trippy, stunningly visual, and very enigmatic movie that comes highly recommended. Obviously you should take the banned labelling with a pinch of salt now that you know the origins of that story, but at the same time you will for sure find that the movie is a magnificent piece of film to be finally enjoyed once again in the leisure of your own home. Every now and again you will find yourself thinking of the imagery of Jodorowsky’s Holy Mountain 1973 or Hyeon-il Kang’s Mago 2002 to name a few, tantalising and haunting images that you will struggle to make sense of, but that’s part of the reason we watch these trippy movies isn’t it! For those crazy plots, shocking revelations and mind-expanding imagery.

Image:

2.35: Anamorphic Widescreen

Audio:

Dolby Digital Mono2.0, Japanese Dialogue with optional English Subtitles, or a commentary track by film critic Mark Schilling

Extras:

A fascinating half-hour documentary on Teuro Ishii featuring Shinya Tsukamoto (who starred in Ishii’s Blind Beast vs. Dwarf 2001 as Kogorô Akechi, based on a story by Rampo) and Minoru Kawasaki, the director of The Calamari Wrestler 2004. Ishii at the 2003 Far East Film Festival, the Original Theatrical Trailer, a poster gallery of Ishii movies and biographies on Ishii and Rampo.

For more on the iconography of J-Horror check out my article on the ConstructingHorror.com website.

Black Lizard

Black Lizard
Original title: Kurotokage
Directed by: Kinji Fukasaku, Japan, 1968
Crime / Comedy, 86min
Distributed by: Cinevista Video
(DVD-R available from SASORI-41)

Story:
Japan’s top private investigator, Detective Akechi [Isao Kimura] goes head to head with the sneaky female jewel thief who goes under the name Black Lizard [Akihiro Miwa]. The Black Lizard has her eyes set on the world’s largest diamond, The Star of Egypt, in the possession of renowned jeweller Shobei Iwasa [Junya Usami]. To get her hands on the star Black Lizard has worked out a series of cunning plans to kidnap Iwasa’s daughter Sanyae [Kikko Matsuoka] to trade for her painfully desired Star of Egypt.

Me:
I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again, you can’t go wrong with a Fukasaku movie. Black Lizard is a perfect example of Fukasaku at his best, but instead of the hard edge Yakuza style that he perfected in so many movies, Black Lizard plays it with a suave campy edge where the two leads, Kimura and Miwa, act out a cat and mouse game with sudden twists to the plot to show how they constantly are one step ahead of each other all the time. When you think that Detective Akechi has a good grip on the situation, Black Lizard quickly pulls her next move which has cunningly predicted what Akechi’s move would be and sets a complete new scenario in play, and every time Black Lizard thinks she’s one step ahead, Akechi is already there to surprise her with his countermove, and that’s how the movie plays. Fukasaku has probably made this structure deliberately and it works with the film instead of against, because even though you may already know that there’s going to be a twist, it just keeps dragging you in as you try to anticipate how they will outdo each other in each step they take. The grand finale is brilliant with it’s many plot twists and sudden revelations when Black Lizard reveals the final details of her fiendish plans for Sanaye and shows off her gallery of life-sized mummified dolls, the panic and fear that Sanaye shows and the sudden twist she’s confronted with as she thinks Amamiaya [Yuksue Kawazu] has come to save her, and then surprise a new twist that you definitely didn’t see coming and at the same time you’re awaiting Akechi to turn up and save the day… It’s an amazing blend of ingredients that make up one hell of a great movie that you’ll want to watch over and over again.

Black Lizard is based on Yukio Mishima’s stage adaptation, Mishimia who two years later committed seppuku, and was eternalized in Paul Schrader’s Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters, who also can be briefly seen as one of the human statues in Black Lizards evil lair, anyhow, the movie is based on Mishimas stage adaptation of Rampo Edogawa’s book (who frequently has Detective Korogo Akechi as a main character) and it is an amazing movie with a fantastic aura, great sets, wonderful locations and style that could possibly be called pop-art chic. Quite a few times I find myself thinking of Mario Bava’s Diabolik 1968, or some of Franco’s sexy/kitschy spy spoofs Sadist Erotica & Kiss Me Monster both from 1969 in particular, or even Seijun Suzuki’s Tokyo Drifter 1966 and Branded to Kill 1967, which is no surprise really, the style, tone and attitude of the movies are very much in the same vain. Tongue in cheek, full of strong visuals, devoted criminals, focused heros , hot chicks and smooth soundtracks. The acting is on a terrific campy level, and the fact that Black Lizard is portrayed by the transvestite Akihiro Miwa, which is never discussed or mentioned in the movie, it’s just the way it is, just adds to the weird atmosphere of the movie, and spices up the passionate thrill between the two leads. (It's worth pointing out that Akihiro Miwa also supplied her/his voice talent to Hayao Miyazaki's Princess Mononoke 1997 and Howl's Moving Castle 2004)

Image:
Widescreen 16:9, with burned in English subtitles. Apart from three distortions in the source material the print is immaculate. I can’t dream of what a top notch company could do with a digital restoration of this movie.

Audio:
This DVD-R originates from a vhs master so the sound is Stereo 2.0

Extras:
None apart from the two page chapter sub-screen, but doesn’t really qualify as an extra does it.