Movie Review: Mechanical Violator Hakaider (1995)

Somewhere after a devastating global apocalypse, at an unspecified time, a group of scavengers stumble upon and awaken a sleeping humanoid robot kept imprisoned and wrapped in chains. In a flash, they are dispatched with frightening efficiency, and instantly this blood-stained machine hops onto his trusted motorcycle, and sets off to Jesus Town - possibly the last refuge of humanity. Only the citizens of this armed fortress city live under the beautiful bootheels of one Gurjev, and his lethal assistant robot, Michael. With their draconian use of force, and vegetable-creating microchip implantation, they have fashioned a society aligned with Gurjev's own brand of justice and harmony. Unbeknownst to them, a bike-riding messenger from the past is en route. And not necessarily bearing goals to liberate the humans of Jesus Town. Feel the burning righteous fist of Hakaider!


In the past, I have considered doing writeups I have felt would perhaps come at odds with certain fandoms, thereby alienating myself from them. But in the name of honest critical discourse, it only felt just that a personal record be set in regards to my feelings on practical special effects movie maestro, Keita Amemiya. As fun as some of his films are at a character craft level (his main claim to fame is his use of often brilliantly realized creatures, props, and stop motion. Those familiar with the Zeiram films, this is the guy responsible.), his films simply lacks any sense of dramatic flow, rhythm, or weight. They are often awkwardly staged, hypnotic works, and not in a good way. Often times, the bulk of his work seem more attenuated toward tokusatsu fans, and enthusiasts of finely crafted creatures and machines, offering little else to the proceedings. And in the case of Hakaider, this is made threefold, as it becomes glaringly clear that despite being inspired by the works of manga legend, Shotaro Ishinomori, there is nowhere near enough budget or script for Amemiya and crew to even begin working with.



For starters, as something of a side story to the title character who is the arch rival of the one and only Kikaider, there is little to no real exposition laid out for anything in the piece, which largely consists of Hakaider riding his bike somewhere, only to be stopped, start fighting, kill everyone, and then continue toward the city. The movie is just a series of events strung together by often haphazard action sequences that offer no real context for anything, except to establish that Hakaider is something of a nihilist amnesiac. He knows nothing of his past before the events displayed here, and only seems to be around to screw up anyone or anything who wanders into his path. We don't even get an idea of what's at stake, who are the real villains, or who we can even pretend to care for. Not even the innocent would-be resistance-fighter, Kaoru (Mai Hosho)can truly serve as audience surrogate when it seems that all of her dialogue seems to have been summoned up on the spot- right on down to completely puzzling notions involving "becoming a bride". This lack of any real structure gives Hakaider a glacial, frustrating vibe that is only remedied by its clearly unintentional laughs.(not to mention groans when the film attempts humor-most notably an out of nowhere shot of Kaoru's scrapper companions simultaneously chewing gum, when clearly some setup was required but did not have) And when considering Amemiya's previous body of work, this is really saying something.



Digging even deeper, I'd even postulate that this was a project that was essentially hoisted upon the director, and in turn, the film is possibly a glimpse into his psyche as he attempts to stem the tide of mid-1990s manga tropes that he possibly doesn't, or isn't interested in understanding. That's right. We may have a film that feaures a number of visual fluorishes that are highly indicative of the era (Visual Kei fashion, faux-goth imagery, tons of feathers), they come at a clip that in many ways implies a certain disdain for them. As if these ideas were implemented via committee despite the director's wishes. The general phoniness of it all, runs concurrent with the entire film's lack of overall energy. All the angel wings, and co-opted bishonen evoke images of the works of CLAMP, Kaori Yuki, and even Tetsuya Nomura, in some halfhearted attempt to invite a new demographic to the film, do nothing to ground the film in any manner of actual flair or style. It's all far too limp to even bother.


So when all one has left are Amemiya's mechanical concepts, and action scenes, one cannot help but feel like these are the only reasons for the film's existence. And even then, perhaps surprisingly, the action choreography is even more weightless and hollow than usual. So the majority of the film comprises of this manner of scraping for anything, and in my estimation, it's again the design work, particularly of the mechanized second in command, Michael, that steals the show. Gurjev's mechanical (?) army is relatively flimsy. And Hakaider's overall design is decent, albeit pretty standard despite his glowing brain, and green grimace.

And as mentioned, the biggest issue that plagues the entire affair, is a general lack of real exposition, or motivation behind any of the characters and their actions. The closest to any agency we actually witness is from Gurjev and Michael. (Especially Michael,who actually seems to genuinely wish to do right by his master. One cannot help but feel as if he could strike out on his own here, but alas..) Hakaider never really gets explored despite his supposed importance be it in machine or humanoid form. All we get from him is that he's something of an id pressure valve for a director clawing for a reason to make this film. And while this may seem unfair to say, it's the only reasonable explaination for all the dark machine does in the whole 90-minutes we are witness to. We know he likes to beat up and often kill those without agency of their own, and can burn flowers just by walking past them. And that's about it. Even his final showdown with the pretty boy dictator, and his robo-buddy cannot escape the oodles of awkward spewing forth throughout. If one cannot laugh, how can one survive? Without it, Amemiya's paean to one of tokusatsu's greatest antiheroes is not terribly different from the Magic Eye paintings from the same era whence it came. Nothingness that isn't afraid to stare back into you. But I guess those who don't mind their nothingness with a cool-looking winged robot might be fine with it.

State Of The Kaijyu: Finding A Way Out Of Gotham

Well as things slowly begin to stabilize here at the clandestine island labs, it might be within mere days that posting and updates may resume with at least semi-frequency for the time being. Much of which is based on the status of base location, and the possibility that this may change within a mere few weeks as of this. With the Lupin posts, the initial plan was to allow that (and Twitter-naturally) to make the sum of my online presence for a while, but the creature is getting restless yet again, and it feels more than overdue that a few observations, and perhaps a review or two will help keep this URL busy for a while. And since the summer movie season is upon us this weekend with The Avengers, it only felt proper to go ahead and share thoughts.


And while we're at it, I currently can't stop watching the final trailer for Christopher Nolan's finale to his Batman trilogy. Seriously. It has been a long time since a trailer has owned me like this. Slow, melancholic, and ultimately emotional, this looks like the finale I could only hope such a team could accomplish. While it does make me a little sad that James Newton Howard is sitting out the ending, the composition here via Zimmer remains thoroughly engaging, and atypical of the man. Still not sure about how Selina Kyle fits into all of this, but hey I'm willing to play ball as long as Chris and his brother Jonathan are pitching all the ideas. Facing up to not only a terrifying enemy with ties to his past, but also facing up to what he began rooted in his own father issues hinted at via what we see here is pretty powerful stuff. Thematically, this is is the most logical way to close the curtain on this particular interpretation of the mythos, and for me, the most exciting stuff, is what has yet to be revealed- things I'm sure will shock and perhaps provoke to no end..While I may not always make mention of superhero stuff on this blog, there has always been a personal connection I've had with the world of Batman, and I must admit that Nolan's vision of Gotham has possibly become my de-facto rendition, so all of this feels more than a little bittersweet. Not necessarily because it is ending either. But rather that after such a powerful second film, a third never felt truly necessary. So in many ways a third feels like either a guaranteed letdown, or sadistic dare. I really want this to be the latter, as it could fully say quite a bit about our current standing on the national stage, as well as grant fandom some truly unique and eloquent hard lefts in regards to what the comic book film is capable of..But after The Dark Knight, this feels like a high-wire challenge that could only fail, so I'm keeping my hopes cautiously high.

Meanwhile, looking back at an obscure piece of OVA history...I cry..Seriously folks, sometimes anime can be a measure of just what is up with the social norms of a certain country, be them troubling, or sometimes downright horrifying. Both may very well be the case with Blue Flames. Not sure I have ever written a piece under so much reflexive terror and confusion. Possibly an AD post for the ages.

A Larcenous Kind Of Love

In case some of you might be curious as to where I've been as of late, well it hasn't merely been preparing for some large living changes that are days from taking place, but it has also been musing many things Lupin, as the first TV series featuring the legendary master thief has been rolling out this season, and with occasionally impressive style. So after some excited words exchanged via Twitter, the folks at Anime Diet went ahead and charged me, and Reality Check Fail's ElectricV01 with chatting up the series, and we're now two posts in!

Directed by Michiko To Hatchin's Sayo Yamamoto, Lupin III: Fujiko Mine is off to a fun start, and is streaming simulcast via Funimation(For members) for those looking to get in on the action, so stop on by, won't you?

Kamata Kyoshin-kyoku (AKA Fall Guy, 1982) Movie Review

Ginshiro Kuraoka (Morio Kazama) is a one-time matinee idol type who has now begun to feel the plummeting weight of his fading star. Having to stoop to sneaking in as many closeups as possible in lieu of up and coming competition, the once proud star reveals to his astonished entourage a less than flattering side that is in no small way, an open admission of panic at his predicament. And it only gets worse upon the bombshell that his one-time movie favorite starlet girlfriend is four months pregnant. Enter the life of his most trusted stunt double in Yasu (Mitsuru Hirata), who is now essentially put upon to marry the discarded and heartbroken Konatsu (Keiko Matsuzaka) in the name of damage control. Both equally shocked by the former star's behavior, but also saddled with few options, the two eventually do agree to swap vows, which leads to Yasu's ever more daring overtures for increasingly dangerous action scene work. With Kinji Fukasakuat the helm, one can't shake the feeling that he has taken the lens away from his more familiar focus of ire, the world of the Yakuza, and turned it inward, as Kamata Kyoshin-kyoku is as savage an evisceration of the Japanese movie industry, as it is a wildly entertaining anti-comedy.

No sooner does the good-hearted, and humble Yasu take on this complicated responsibility, that his entire world becomes a winding rollercoaster of pain and hardship. Often taking double jobs within the same scene, pretending to have not had his chance prior to the crew, Yasu's dedication to his bride-to-be and unborn child begins to reach troubling levels. And all the while, Konatsu comes to better understand her erstwhile ex, as he has now set his sights on a younger, hopelessly dim bulb of a fan. Now even further feeling left behind, Konatsu attempts to better dedicate herself to her new circumstances. So when the film takes a sharp turn, leading to the return of Ginshiro to the core story, and a potentially death-defying stunt with Yasu singularly in mind, the film becomes a gut-wrenching time bomb along with Yasu, as he is pushed to his physical and emotional limits.

And while some may argue that such a premise is the last thing one considers to be one that could elicit laughter, Fukasaku's often frenzied direction and the work's effective performances create a world where the irony and laughter are interchangeable within a cultural context. While westerners might see much of this as often uncomfortable, and borderline melodramatic, it may be important to be familiar with the language of Japanese cinema, and the means by which little of this is filmed with abject seriousness in mind, save for the implications. Which is why Hirata's Yasu is so indelible. His unique blend of earnest simpleton, and selfless fool is an incredible draw for the film as he embodies more than merely a complex loser lead, but rather many of those who live the cinema dream, even while working in its stages. There is no spill too big, or bruise not worth flirting with. It's all in the name of this undefinable dream that is ever elusive, no matter how close one is with those already within the "winner's circle". Equally impressive is Matsuzaka, who carries with her a classic beauty who has like so many, settled well before their ability came to full flower in a industry obsessed with youth. But these two would not be so well established without the terrible force of nature that is Kazama as Ginshiro, who's diva manchild antics simply borderline on horrific.

Cleverly, the film begins within the confines of a cinematic world, as Ginshiro's most prideful face is on display during the filming of yet another period action piece. But just as soon as we see this, we are also witness to the reality regarding him, as well as the bit players on the set, which include day players such as Yasu, who seem set in their wishes for better work, even if it's for mere peanuts. So even as we get to know how good and dedicated a presence Yasu is to the clearly childlike and unstable Ginshiro, it becomes something of a masochistic relationship- more than likely borne out of a film world filled with individuals incapable of seeing their own worth, and often wiling to do anything to remain part of it. When considered in such a context, Yasu's role is no different than so many of Fukasaku's criminal outcasts. Always on the outside, looking in, and often at a heavy price.

So when the story reaches its final act, and the mutual worlds of  Yasu, Konatsu, and the film's reach critical mass, it is a boiling point that is both intentionally overwrought, and almost mocking of how such films in a standard movie world both seem so real and yet ineffectually manufactured. Worlds blur, and it's pretty stunning with how it is all handled.

While definitely not one of his most instantly accessible, Kamata Kyoshin-kyoku is a sneaky, brutal, often bleakly funny experience that is vital to J-film fans the world over.

Blind Woman's Curse (1970) Movie Review

After spending three years in prison, former gang boss, Akemi Tachibana has returned to regain and protect what is hers, but in lieu of a terrible inkling. Plagued by dreams featuring a blood-hungered black cat, Akemi, while a confident and tough Yakuza leader, worries that her luck is to take some manner of a fall. And so matters come in waves as the rival Donbashi-gumi begin taking terrible shots at her clan. Only further adding to the melee of violence and tragedy, are the lives of many whom Tachibana touches from a tough do-gooder (Makoto Sato), a retired elder gangster and his sunny daughter (Yoko Takagi) who also work as proprietors of a local eating establishment. More ominous yet, is the arrival of a blind swordswoman with a terrible tale and a score to settle. Could a premonition truly be at work?

Not so easily summed up as even a simple narrative, Blind Woman’s Curse, not unlike so many films bearing the name of often controversial film icon, Teruo Ishii, is more about experience than plot. As much like an improvisational piece as it is often symbology-riddled, it is both refreshing, and at times disorienting. And even as Tachibana’s tale remains one of the classic yakuza revenge variety, there is an often freewheeling, borderline surrealist mind at work within the heart of it as it often wildly vacillates between standard storytelling, and even dreamlike excursions into old fashioned horror. Visions of hell haunt much of the story, as it delves closer and closer toward what seems to be Tachibana’s fate. It is as much a loopy haunted funhouse trip, as it is a simple tale of karmic retribution. Hell seems just a flirt away with some truly creepy elements from a nightmarish traveling fair, to some effectively eerie backgrounds toward the finale. Chock full of color, and theatrical tricks, it is an out-of-control piece that is more likely for the psychotronic set than perhaps even yakuza eiga nuts.

To even try to make sense of the film is akin to an exercise in futility, even as it attempts to weave a web of past and recent deeds, leading to a twist-packed finale. As Tachibana’s return to gang leader life is complicated by members on the inside plotting to betray her, outside forces are hard at work to make sure her return is but a brief one. It’s not long before betraying parties are revealed to be working for the local top contender in violent drug peddler, woman trafficking Donbashi. A man who seems unfazed at doing more than smearing names to get the job done. Almost immediately, bodies begin to pile up, and reputations are tarnished. And it’s bad enough being dogged by the fundoshi-sporting weirdo in Aozora and his lot, but the sleazy and conniving ways of Donbashi eventually push Akemi and cohorts into breaking vows, and diving headlong into a bloody confrontation with destiny that must be seen to be comprehended.  

Also noteworthy aside from the near assault-like psychedelia on display, is the initial starring role of one Masako Ota, who later became known as Meiko Kaji. More a preview of her own specific brand of stoic beauty, the film’s take on her character is that of one sure of her comeuppance. She is aware that something is indeed coming her way. And as a strong leader, is doing her best to lessen the storm damage that seems to be unavoidable. So when her ultimate rival comes in the form of blind swordmaster, Hoki Tokuda, who is in her own right an imposing presence, the film is at times at least attempting to make some manner of moralistic stance as both are primed to clash, and yet have so much in common. (Personally speaking, a whole movie featuring this character would have been more than enough great material to work with.) In all, Blind Woman’s Curse is akin to those classically anarchic drive-in pastiches of the past. But it also has with it tons of style to spare. Ishii may have let simple sense get away from him here, but it is no way a total deterrent. Great, mad fun.

State Of The Kaijyu : Tripping The Life Lulltastic?

Not going to make up any excuses as to my current status. As of this moment, Kaijyu's concentration lies heavily on new stuff I've been able to watch, read, or places I've been able to go. And since the flow of life has remained wildly busy in more than one manner, a big sporadic post here or there will have to suffice until further notice. To be completely blunt, I haven't been seeing much lately that has me charged up enough to write about them beyond the occasional Twitter post. But fear not. There are many new potential posts in the planning, along with reviews and write-ups that have already been submitted to their appropriate places. (Two of which are awaiting release at VCinema-one of which concerns a 1990s favorite that continues to inspire me in many ways.) Not to mention a recent, and very hopeful prognostication piece over at Anime Diet, where I offer thoughts on what excites me most about the coming year.

So for the time being, my Twitter feed will remain as busy as I can make it until time and material frees up. With some more than exciting changes on the roster within the next month, things might begin looking much busier around here, as well as at Cel Count Media. As a matter of fact; count on it. 

Karaoke Terror: The Complete Showa Era Songbook (2003) Movie Review

Early twentysomething, Ishihara (Ryuhei Matsuda) one day makes friends with a most peculiar group of friends. All male, and of similar ages who all seem to share a love of voyeurism, karaoke sessions set to decades old pop tunes, and most unusual, older women. Led by the clearly troubled, Sugioka (Masanobu Ando), these boys continue their quirky lifestyles. That is until until one day, the knife-wielding leader commits murder after being turned down for sex. Sugioka, now gloating about his deed to his seemingly amazed friends, unbeknownst to him, has incurred the plotted wrath of a close-knit group of divorced, karaoke-loving middle-aged ladies known as the Midoris. It is in this one young man's act, that not only is a bizarre blood feud of sorts spawned, but a grudge match between two generations seems ready to come to a devastating head.


Based on the 1994 novel by satirist, Ryu Murakami, Karaoke Terror is that all-too-common duck that takes a twisted approach to illuminating contemporary metaphor, but finds itself at odds with how to make it work. And in this case, the war between Sugioka's band of aloof sociopaths and the aimless, yet now determined Midoris make for a potent look at the 1990s sense of deep enmity between adults and kids, but takes it into the more rarified territory of the May-December romance (essentially romantic affairs between younger men, and elder women), making this an all the creepier affair. The film wastes no time in establishing Sugioka's clearly paranoid mind, but once the inciting murder is committed, director Tetsuo Shinohara and company can't seem to figure out a means toward making the ensuing conflict make any deeper impact than a few unique images and grotesque yuks. Being a definite product of the post Battle Royale cult-cinema high Japan was going through after the horror boom ended, the film at times feels torn between extremes, and always at odds with the source material's need for emotional immediacy.



In some ways, Karaoke Terror delivers some memorable characters, particularly in the main members of the Midoris. Most standout are Kayoko Kishimoto, and Kanako Higuchi who create something of a believable backbone for the remainder of these women on a mission. Kishimoto's take being that of the sexually liberated Hemmi, and Higuchi as the magazine editor who's assignment to meet these ladies led to the formation of this group years ago, grant some semblance of class to the film. Sometimes, one cannot help but wonder if a more subdued black comedy about the lives of these characters might have made for something far more engrossing than what we do have here. As the Midoris come across as the film's closest thing to a beating heart amidst all the blood and explosives on display, one wonders if Shinohara was even the right choice considering the cartoonish nature of the violence, which does reach absurd proportions by the finale.




The script adaptation by Sumio Ohmori seems almost ready to carry Murakami's warped yet telling themes to fruition, but the largest problem seems to lay square in the lap of Shinohara, who seems to be attempting to direct a completely different film- or at least isn't as ferocious as the themes call for. Even as we are privy to the lives of the karaoke-loving cretins who start the film, enjoying watching a woman across the way striptease with windows undrawn, and in full-lit abandon, we never really get a glimpse into who they are as the borderline mentally stunted drones they seem to be. Ando's Sugioka seems to be the only one worth writing home about, and he doesn't last past the first half of the film. To make matters more difficult, the pacing is almost unbearably staccato; often stopping after a surreal joke, or violent zinger to draw out the story which is already fraught with forced story beats. The means by which both factions implicate each other throughout the film is often by way of wildly improbable leaps of convenience. It hardly matters how, but rather that they do find each other, and draw weapons. The big problems here, are that tales like these require a more visceral amount of action and humor to buoy the ensuing escalation of violence. Without this, what we have here are a series of fun, quirky cul-de-sacs barely held together by anything. And the at times too clean, pretty cinematography by Hiroshi Takase contradicts all that is happening between these often less than attractive characters.




So when thinking about it, Karaoke Terror is something of a deeply acquired taste. It does offer some handsome production values, a decent number of kooky moments, punctuated by instances of hyperbolic violence that can attract those merely ready for a unique night watching movies. But in a post-Fight Club cinema environment, one wonders what this would have been like if animated and directed within more constrained circumstances. What could have been a tight, provocative, and savagely funny voyage through contemporary Japan's war of the generations, merely plays as a leisurely blueprint of weird.