Showing posts with label Kinji Fukasaku. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kinji Fukasaku. Show all posts

Saturday, November 19, 2016

Kadokawa at Japan Society: Virus

It is the sort of film that seems to go out of its way to sow confusion. Since its initial release, the original 156-minute cut and a truncated 108-minute international edition have both been widely circulated. There was also a Teo Macero-produced soundtrack, featuring funky tunes performed by 1970s jazz superstars, including Chick Corea, Ron Carter, David Sanborn, and Larry Corryell, but you will not hear those cuts during the film. Perhaps most bafflingly, Sonny “Streetfighter” Chiba appears in a largely passive supporting role. However, the narrative is clear enough. Thanks to the accidental release of a weaponized super-bacillus, all vertebrate life is pretty much doomed in Kinji Fukasaku’s Virus (trailer here), which screens as part of the Japan Society retrospective: Pop! Goes Cinema: Kadokawa Films and 1980s Japan.

You can blame us hawkish Yanks for developing MM88 and the East Germans for recklessly stealing it. However, it will rather unfairly be dubbed the “Italian Flu,” because that is where the first devastating outbreaks and consequential riots first manifested. Soon it is sweeping across the planet, masking its presence by amplifying existing viral diseases. President Richardson is quite disappointed in the situation, but his Chairman of the Joint Chiefs only has a mind to turn on our automatic nuclear retaliation system. This will loom large down the stretch.

Seven months later, humanity only survives on Antarctica, where the sub-zero temperatures force the virus into dormancy. It is a difficult situation, what with the eight women to three-hundred-some men ratio. It is particularly hard on seismologist Shuzo Yoshizumi. He was so obsessed with his research, he submissively allowed his pregnant lover Noriko Asami to break-up with him. It would be very Seinfeld-esque, if it were not so tragic. However, he develops feelings of protective affection for Marit, the sole survivor of the Norwegian station, and her recently delivered infant.

Directed by Fukasaku, the edgy studio hitmaker responsible for the Battles Without Honor and Humanity and Battle Royale franchises, Virus was the most expensive Japanese film of its era. Despite its considerable international distribution, it still bombed. A little distance was probably needed to appreciate how Fukasaku fuses the Western all-star disaster melodrama with a peculiarly Japanese foray into the surreal and the existential. At times, this film is just plain odd, but it also boasts a who’s who of late 1970s Irwin Allen and Alistair McLean movies, including the likes of Glenn Ford, Chuck Connors, Bo Svenson, Olivia Hussey (Zeffirelli’s Juliet playing Norwegian), Henry Silva, Cec Linder (Felix Leiter in Goldfinger), George Kennedy, and the recently departed Robert Vaughn.

Yet, far and away, the best performance comes from Masao Kusakari as the bereaved and neurotic Yoshizumi. The film really gets its heart and soul from his relationships with Yumi Takigawa’s Asami and Hussey’s Marit. However, most of his scenes were axed from the international hack-job, so you want to hold out for the long version (which of course, the Japan Society will screen).


There are a number of wonderfully over-the-top death scenes in Virus that really put it in a class by itself. Granted, it is hard to believe you could just saunter through the front door of a post-apocalyptic White House, even with 1980 security technology, but silly third acts come with the disaster movie territory. Arguably, Virus was way ahead of its time, staking a claim to pandemic territory before Outbreak, Contagion, and Twenty-Eight Days Later. It is also a lot of nostalgic fun to watch the so-of its-time cast, albeit in a rather pessimistic context. Recommended for fans of apocalyptic cinema, Virus screens this Tuesday (11/22) at the Japan Society, as part of their ongoing Kadokawa retrospective.

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Original Hunger Games: Battle Royale


Do you remember when The Hunger Games was in Japanese?  At that time, it was a manga and film franchise called Battle Royale and it is still way cooler that way.  Though Tora! Tora! Tora! co-director Kinji Fukasaku’s notoriously violent adaptation was released in 2000 (eight years prior to the publication of a certain YA potboiler), it never had a proper American theatrical release, until now.  Middle School Class 3-B will go for the dystopian jugular again when Fukasaku’s Battle Royale (trailer here) opens this Friday at the IFC Center.

In protest of their limited future prospects, eighty-thousand Japanese students boycotted classes.  In retribution, the Battle Royale Act (BR) was passed.  Unfortunately, Class 3-B was not paying attention.  During their graduation trip, Noriko Nakagawa and Shuya Nanahara (whose names evidently translate into English as Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark) are more concerned with the halting stirrings of their long pined for romance.  However, their former teacher Kitano has different plans for the class.

Waking up from a dose of knock-out gas, Class 3-B discovers themselves on a remote island with tracking collars affixed to their necks.  Kitano, who appears to have some sort of X-Filish super-governmental authority, explains they will all explode in three days if they do not play the there-can-be-only-one game.  Each student is randomly allotted a different weapon and turned loose in the woods.  Further complicating matters, two “transfer students” are also in on the game: the sadistic Kazuo Kiriyama and past champion Shogo Kawada, who has his own mysterious reasons for returning.  Nanahara vows to protect Nakagawa, but given the nature of the BR, it is not clear whether he ultimately can.

Frankly, it is a bit mystifying how the BR would act as an instrument of social control rather than stoking widespread unrest, but no matter.  More than most subsequent films it influenced, Battle really takes an uncomfortably hard look at human nature.  As a result of the school’s typically arbitrary social structure, resentful outsiders like Mitsuko Souma (played with unusual nuance by j-pop vocalist Kou Shibasaki in a star-making turn) readily embrace the game.  Yet far more refuse to play, either committing suicide in pairs or searching for a long shot escape option.  Despite its obvious existential angst, the film adaptation of Battle (penned by Fukasaku’s son Kenta) is never nihilistic, which is quite the trick to pull off.

Hunger Games defenders should ask themselves who is more hardcore, Donald Sutherland as the evil President Snow or “Beat” Takeshi Kitano as his stone cold namesake.  Before giving a kneejerk answer, check out the latter’s latest masterful Yakuza comic-tragedy, Outrage.  In a way, Fujasaku employs Kitano’s well established deceptively placid persona as a bit of shorthand, but the action star definitely delivers the ruthless goods for his legions of international fans.  Battle is also further distinguished by the running body count it maintains for the benefit of players and viewers alike.

To recap, Battle is more violent and sociological trenchant than its imitators, featuring cult-film all-stars, like Kitano and Chiaki Kuriyama (best known as Gogo Yubari in Kill Bill, vol. 1).  Recommended for all fans of violent dystopian speculative fiction, it begins its premiere American theatrical run this Friday (5/25) at the IFC Center, where it should find a large and appreciative audience to judge by the unexpected success of Ôbayashi’s truly insane House found there.