Sunday, 26 July 2009

REVIEW - Abashiri Bangaichi - Abashiri Prison (Teruo Ishii, 1965)

Teruo Ishii is probably best known for his Grand Guignol epics but in 1965 he released the first Abashiri Prison with Toei star Ken Takakura as Shin'Ichi Tachibana. The film helped launch Ken Takakura's career and led to sixteen sequels, the next nine directed by Teruo Ishii in just two years and even helped make Abashiri Prison a tourist hotspot. Although ultimately becoming bored with the monotony of the Abashiri Prison sequels and turning to lower budget exploitation pieces such as Bohachi Bushido and Blind Woman's Curse, the Abashiri films gave Teruo Ishii box office success and were often examples of expertly crafted sixties crime films.

Abashiri Prison begins with Shin'IChi arriving at the prison against the harsh snowy backdrop of Hokkaido, an unforgiving landscape which makes escape almost impossible. In Abashiri Prison respect is earned by the more years you serve and the hierarchy is split between the seniors and the juniors. Shin'Ichi does not accept this as readily as most and upsets the status quo with his rebellious behaviour. He challenges the rights of the seniors to preferential treatment and clearly identifies himself as an individual that will not be subsumed into
the prison regime. Because of his unruly behaviour he is in and out of the punishment cell which gives him time to think back to his childhood, seen through a series of flashbacks. As a child, he and his sister lived with their mother and their violent stepfather who Shin'Ichi ultimately rebels against.

Whilst he is in prison Shin'Ichi's mother develops breast cancer, which he is told is almost certainly terminal and so he wants to get out of prison to see her one last time. This noble desire is misunderstood by the other inmates who think he just wants to get out to see his girl. All the prisoners begin to organise an escape plan but at the same time a lawyer, Tsubaki, is attempting to get parole for Shin'Ichi. There is palpable tension in the film as the time ticks away on the two options that he is faced with, legitimate release or illegal escape. The escape plan by the prisoners is sabotaged by an old man in the prison, who they planned to leave behind, but whilst being transported on a truck the prisoners see an opportunity and make a run for it.

Unfortunately Shin'Ichi is handcuffed to Gonda, another prisoner from his cell but nowhere near as likeable a character as Shin'Ichi. He has no choice but to go on the run with Gonda and try and see his mother one last time. It is at this point that the film begins to resemble The Defiant Ones, which Ishii has said it was modelled on, and it is this similarity that the film has been criticised for. The similarity is minimal though and Teruo Ishii's film is unique in its approach both stylistically and thematically.

Starving for food and warmth the pair break into a house and find food to eat. Whilst eating they are disturbed by a woman who is, of course, surprised to find the two escaped convicts in her house. Gonda strikes the woman, who it turns out is Tsubaki's wife, and the pair go on the run again, Shin'Ichi angry with the way Gonda has behaved.

Whilst Shin'Ichi is running for his life and his 'partner' is attacking the lawyer's wife, unbeknownst to him, Tsubaki actually manges to get him parole and Shin'Ichi's sister writes to tell him that their mother has had an operation and is going to be okay. Tsubaki returns home to find his wife beaten up and the man responsible appears to be the man he is trying to help. He goes after the pair with a rifle and chases them on a railway car down a treacherous railway line in the films main action piece.

Shin'Ichi and Gonda manage to escape and attempt to break the chains that link them using a moving trains wheels in a tense scene expertly directed by Ishii. Although they are separated the plan backfires when Gonda is hideously burnt by the steam from the train. At This point Tsubaki arrives to see Shin'Ichi treat Gonda with kindness and compassion and after Gonda owns up to everything Tsubaku shows the same compassion towards Shin'Ichi. He realises he has been wrong about him, even calling him naive and soft-hearted.

The film ends on a relatively light and upbeat tone but throughout it is much more bleak and fatalistic, intensified by the stark cinematography highlighting not just the severe and unforgiving landscape but a bleak outlook on life. Shin'Ichi is constantly hit with bad luck, the plot occasionally veering perhaps too close to contrivance. It is this narrative style though that puts the film in close company with the Hollywood Noirs of the forties and fifties with a likeable protagonist trapped in a spiralling narrative to which there seems no escape. Looking at Ishii's later films one wonders whether, if it wasn't for the consideration regarding sequels, Ishii may have killed Shin'Ichi in the end in one last stand only for it to be realised after his death that he had noble intentions all along. Although the 'happy ending' didn't sit too well with me, as I felt it undermined the beautifully orchestrated tone of the film I am happy that it gave Ishii the opportunity to make a sequel.



Saturday, 18 July 2009

REVIEW - Monks - Transatlantic Feedback (Lucia Palacios & Dietmar Post, 2006)

"Sunlight grids quiver in the system. Read on! It's monk time - it's hop time. don't read this. We said: don't read this. Let sapphires glide into the grooves. What is beat? What is beat today? And what is over-beat? And who the hell is going to melt the hot and cold world of tomorrow?"

The above is the beginning of the liner notes to the original release of The Monks truly incredible album Black Monk Time. Released in 1965 and, as the above introduction testifies to, not just a simple rock 'n' roll album. The Monks Black Monk Time was an explosive début with catchy hooks but an experimental approach to sound.

The Monks were a group of five American GIs stationed in Germany in the sixties who in 1964 formed a band called The Torquays and played standard rock 'n' roll classics in local bars and venues. The band started out doing covers of surf rock hit including songs by the Beach Boys and Rufus Thomas but they later moved on to cover British groups such as The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Kinks. As their influences changed their music began to evolve. Following the end of their tour of duty the group decided to stay in Germany and continued playing in bars, cutting their first record as 'The 5 Torquays'.

In 1965 they changed their name to The Monks and their music began to shift more and more into the sound that became Black Monk Time. The music was heavily driven by the rhythm and feedback, with clashing harmonics and discordant sounds The Monks pushed beyond being simply a covers band and recorded a seminal album of the sixties that still hugely influences musicians to this day.
The final line up of The Monks, after various changes through the early sixties, was Gary Burger (Vocals/Guitar), Larry Clark (Organ), Roger Johnston (Drums), Eddie Shaw (Bass) and Dave Day (Guitar/Banjo). It was the inclusion of instruments such as the organ and banjo and their approach to the other instruments that helped form their unique sound. Also hugely important was the incredible vocals by Gary Burger which sound as startling today as they must have done to a mid-sixties audience.

Transatlantic Feedback tells the short narrative of this band and the story behind the scenes that resulted in the 1966 release of Black Monk Time and the story since the band's split. The band are well known not just for their electrifying sound but also their iconic look, with monk haircuts the band always dressed in black and were sometimes even photographed with nooses around their necks. One of the most fascinating elements of the documentary is the story of The Monks management, Karl-H Remy and Walther Neimann, who helped cultivate this image, setting the band up as the 'anti-Beatles'. The film portrays the managers as mysterious figures who helped guide the band with rigid rules and a corporate mentality. The managers even had a set of six rules that the band had to follow to be 'a Monk', rules that had to be followed on and off stage. The managers ultimately split up which signalled the end of The Monks and the band also split. The Monks reformed in 1999 and played what was actually their first ever US live date to a thrilled audience, including many contemporary musicians.

This performance signals the end of the documentary and with the recent deaths of three of the members of The Monks the story of the band appears to be over but their music is kept alive by the new fans discovering the album and the legacy of influence that The Monks' sound had on artists as diverse as The Fall, The White Stripes, The Dead Kennedys and Throbbing Gristle.

The documentary has amazing clips but ultimately suffers from the lack of footage available of The Monks on and off stage. We are of course treated to talking heads of the band members who surprisingly downplay the significance of The Monks and the impact on their lives. It seems that they are not quite aware of the extent of the cult following of The Monks until they perform again. One weakness of the documentary is that it does not have a clear authorial voice and although in some ways this is a strength in the way it lets the music and the band speak for themselves, the film lacks a unique style and clear direction. This is a minor criticism though as Transatlantic Feedback is an excellent introduction to anyone unfamiliar with the band and has great footage and information for fans too.



Monday, 13 July 2009

REVIEW - Bohachi Bushido Saburai (Takashi Harada, 1974)

A sequel to Porno jidaigeki: Bohachi bushido, Bohachi Bushido Saburai is this time directed by Takashi Harada. Although now with a new director and a different cast, Saburai is essentially more of the same.

The year is 1662 and a Dutch trader visits Japan where he and his whole visiting group is slaughtered by Kyushi-Issho Saburai who also kidnaps a young Dutch women to take back to a villager who is willing to pay him for a foreign woman. When this man is too scared to go through with the deal Saburai kills him, rapes the woman and slits her throat. For these appalling acts he is sentenced to execution but is saved by the boss of the Bohachi who arranges for the wrong side of the sword to be used, saving his life.


The Bohachi clan are essentially the same as in the first film but are lacking some of the flamboyance that made the clan so memorable the first time around. They enlist Saburai to work for them, Saburai agreeing as he is indebted to them for the 15000 Ryo they paid for him to cheat death. They also give him the "Blood Sucking Sword", forged in human blood, for him to help defend their clan.

Also living as part of the clan is Monkmatsu, played by the 70s screen legend Reiko Ike. Strangely for the Bohachi clan, Monkmatsu appears to be a strong and independent member and even challenges Saburai to a duel, although she does lose forfeiting her body in the process. One of the most disappointing aspects of this film is the use of Reiko Ike
. Although she is given a reasonably large role in the film, considering her brilliant performances in other films, she seems slightly wasted with a pretty 2D character.

Saburai begins to draw attention from other clans as he racks up bodies but at the same time the Bohachi clan begins to crumble. Monkmatsu is instructed to kill Saburai, but instead sides with him. The boss decides to drug Saburai which he escapes from and joins Monkmatsu in a brutal bloodbath finale.

Although a solid 70s genre film with the necessary amount of violence and nudity, when Bohachi Bushido Saburai is compared to the first film it becomes clear what is missing. The film is not so much a sequel but more of a remake. Despite similar scenes, including the drugging scene and the finale, the first film is visually stunning and genuinely original whereas Bohachi Bushido Saburai feels less imaginative. Bohachi Bushido Saburai is a competent genre film and one that is actually quite enjoyable but when compared against the first film there is no competition.

REVIEW - Porno jidaigeki: Bohachi bushido (Teruo Ishii, 1973)

Porno jidaigeki: Bohachi Bushido, also known as Bohachi - Clan of the Forgotten Eight, is an exploitation picture by the masterful genre director, Teruo Ishii. Standing out, even in Ishii's filmography, as a gruesome and sleazy film, Porno jidaigeki: Bohachi Bushido is a descent into a dark and seedy world of amoral behaviour and vice.

The protagonist, Shiro (Tetsuro Tamba), begins the film with the phrase "To die is hell, but to live is also hell." This is a particularly bleak opening statement and one that prepares you for the amoral behaviour of almost all the characters in the film and the nihilism of the lead. The phrase is said against the background of the opening credits, which see Shiro fighting off attackers with their blood sprays forming the credits and the blood curdling sounds of gruesome deaths. The opening is striking with a simplistic colour palette and a minimal backdrop. The whole way through the film this style is mirrored where the obvious budgetary constraints are not a hindrance to Teruo Ishii, who instead makes use of what he has and mirrors the bleak narrative with the sparse minimalism of the setting and the cinematography. Ishii also uses low angle shots and spotlights throughout which add to the feeling that you are in a dream, trapped in a hellish nightmare.

Shiro is fleeing from the law and after a fight on a bridge decides to take his life and jumps into the river below. He then wakes to find himself being warmed back to life by naked women. Shiro has been taken in by the Bohachi clan, a ruthless group who collect women and psychologically break them down through violence, rape and humiliation. They are the most abhorrent group of men, not even human, known as "beasts in animal skin". With little choice Shiro joins the Bohachi clan but fails a test they impose on him of forcibly deflowering a girl that he believes to be an innocent villager.

Shiro flees the clan but is attacked by the police and wielding two swords dispatches hundreds of men resulting in geysers of blood and decapitated limbs. The boss of the Bohachi clan returns and offers to take Shiro back in and offers to use his influence to keep the police from pursuing Shiro. He agrees to stay and is sent by the boss to crush all rival prostitution organisations and the feudal lords and samurai that run them. Shiro goes on a murderous rampage slaughtering more and more people. Helping Shiro and the Bohachi clan are the clans trained female fighters who are so brainwashed that they will even throw themselves on a fire just to save a Bohachi clan member.

Ultimately the leader of the Bohachi decides to kill Shiro and tries to do so by giving him opium and unlimited sex in order to 'destroy him'. What follows is a visually stunning scene of Shiro hallucinating with Teruo Ishii's superb direction giving the scene the necessary nightmare visuals. Shiro gets wise to the leader's plan and escapes from the trap. He fights off five female naked bodyguards in a particularly lurid and unforgettable scene and punishes the boss by locking him in a cage with the rejected syphilitic Bohachi prostitutes.

Shiro, still confused and weak from the opium, is again confronted by the officials hunting him down and a violent fight ensues with decapitated limbs and heads literally flying through the air. The scene is filmed on a minimal, mostly black set with snow falling all around. Non-diegetic lighting, including coloured spotlights, and glimpses of hallucinated images, coupled with the shocking violence make this scene a thrilling climax to the film. The police eventually back away and Shiro is left alone, once again a stray dog, surrounded by black.

Based on already violent manga by Kazuo Koike, the writer of the Lone Wolf & Cub series and Lady Snowblood, in the hands of Teruo Ishii Porno jidaigeki: Bohachi Bushido is an extreme film with violence and sex pushed to the limits of taste but done with an incredible eye and genuine originality. Again Teruo Ishii proves his worth as one of the most stunning genre directors working in Japan in the 70s and also one who will pull no punches with the content in his films.