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Sex and Fury (1973)
Dir: Norifumi Suzuki
1886, Japan.
A Detective on the trail of political corruption is murdered (with much moist
and crunchy stabbing sounds) in front of his young Daughter, Ochô Inoshika.
With his dying strength he holds up 3 playing cards; a boar, a deer and a butterfly.
1905, Japan.
After successful military campaigns a strong Japan is moving into the technological
modern age and opening up to the potential of foreign co-operation.
Ex-Yakuza Mr Kurokawa is head of the politically powerful Seishinkai Group and
with the help of Kizugen (the head of the corrupt secret Police) and Naozo Imamura
(Yakuza head of a large construction corporation) he is getting ready to hold
a lot of power and make a lot of money via various corrupt political/business
schemes.
After a failed assassination attempt on Mr Kurokawa by Shunosuke, the head of a group who are against Mr Kurokawa and his cronies, Shunosuke runs into the now grown up Ochô Inoshika (Reiko Ike) who pickpockets a locket from him containing a portrait of a young white woman.
After a fight in the villainous Inamura’s gambling den, Ochô promises
a dying gambler to find his Sister, Yuki, and give her the money he has won.
Ochô’s journey leads her to the evil Naozo Imamura who is holding
Yuki as his property.
Imamura declares that if Ochô can beat a female Western gambler named
Christina (Christina Lindberg) she can take Yuki, but if she loses he keeps
Yuki and also takes Ochô !
Christina turns out to be the same woman in Shunosuke’s locket (who has
her own secret agenda) and soon Ochô will find that all these people and
their political intrigues, corruption, spying and bed hopping, will uncover
some startling revelations for her and will also lead her to those that killed
her Father, as a bigger battle, for Japan’s new political future, plays
out around her…
The ‘Gambler’/Yakuza films had been popular in Japan for a long time,
but by the 70’s television was eating into audience figures and so the
film industry (as was the case in America and Hong Kong during the 70’s)
decided to offer the paying public something they could not get on their TV
screens…the taboo mix of sex, blood and violence.
And so, like the Samurai/Ronin movies, the Gambler/Yakuza films became gaudy,
hyper-kinetic, super stylish exercises in pop art bloodshed and eroticism.
“Sex and Fury” (“Furyô anego den: Inoshika Ochô”)
was one of the earliest examples and contains all the ingredients that ensure
it still appeals as much today (with Tarantino’s “Kill Bill vol.
1” owing much to it for example) as it did in the 70’s.
To say that the plot of the screenplay (by Tarô Bonten, Masahiro Kakefuda,
Norifumi Suzuki) is a complex one is an understatement, but thankfully the main
thread of the narrative winds it’s way clearly enough through the more
vague haze of spies and political chess games to ensure that the movie always
has a grasp on the main, emotionally gripping, revenge tale.
The secret agent sub-plots with Lindberg and the political shenanigans do add
some soap opera style, high emotion, plot twists and (sometimes overly vague)
intrigue, but you can’t help but feel that Ochô’s more satisfying
revenge plot is sometime stifled by them.
But at least the Saint/Sinner, Angel/Whore character of Lindberg’s Christina works brilliantly against the driven, far more morally simplistic character of Ochô, and their few shared scenes burn up the screen, be it the hard stares they share across a card table (with Lindberg’s astonishingly expressionist eyes used to perfection) or a white hot, deliciously explicit, stripped to the waist and tied up with chains flogging sequence. It’s a very unusual pairing but one that works brilliantly for the movie.
Lindberg (so effective as the mute avenger in the Grindhouse classic “Thriller:
A cruel Picture”) seems to speak her own Japanese dialogue and even
if her many scenes in English (with a heavy accent and some dodgy phrasing)
don’t showcase her dialogue delivery, she at least keeps her screen charisma
and during her sex scenes (particularly an extended threesome sequence) she
most certainly gives it her all as her petit but well endowed figure is displayed
like the work of art it is.
The only real weak link are her ‘thoughts’ (via a broken English voiceover)
as she waxes lyrical about the tragedy of her job and the sacrifices she has
to make and her sugary love scenes with Shunosuke.
Reiko Ike is no less a screen presence and also has the advantage of delivering
some powerfully acted dialogue as she sacrifices her all to get revenge.
Like Lindberg she is open and striking in her many nude scenes and showcases
perfectly how even in the most naked of situations, a strong actress can grip
the viewer just as much with her general attitude and charisma as her lithe
body.
And lithe Reiko Ike most certainly is, and this is hammered home wonderfully
during a truly eye popping sword fight early on as, her tattooed body completely
bared, she slices boldly and bloodily through a mini-army of would-be assassins,
as a gentle snowfall lightly touches her blood streaked breasts and lethal blade.
It’s an unforgettable sequence of slow motion, blood spattered, naked ballet
as severed limbs fall onto the snow covered ground and a wonderfully inappropriate,
but bizarrely effective, easy listening instrumental pop ditty blasts out. In
fact Ichirô Araki’s eccentric score will continue to be a big part
of the movie’s bizarre appeal.
But despite this early sequence the film has thankfully not shot it’s
complete load and still has many striking moments to pleasure us with;
Multi-coloured pop art décor, abstract angles and poetic camera moves
are all employed even during the most horrible of moments (like a cruel deflowering
of a scared virgin) and that old adage that Japan is a nation of flower arranging
sadists seems to be flagged up on the screen with wild abandon.
And whenever possible even the most straightforward of events (like the death
of a character) are filmed in a complex fashion, full of an abstract visual
poetry. This method (and the wonderfully theatrical, melodramatic styling) really
helps a blood drenched sequence near the end of the film that sees the fates
of many of the lead characters played out in a single scene of night time carnage
via bullet and blade.
It’s not all tragedy and violence though. There are few comic interludes
early on that work pretty well. Most of these occur in the home of Ogin, the
adoptive Mother Ochô and the boss of a gang of female pickpockets.
Into this set-up comes Hachiro, a male who wants to join the women’s gang
(and a general idiot) who opens with a fart joke before showing the women what
he has just stolen…a purse of condoms! This is actually a great little
scene as the women wonder what the hell they are and try to blow them up like
balloons, before they are informed by a more enlightened member about what they
are used for and that they call them a ‘rude sack’!
But these scenes are brief and rare and the majority of the film is played
as a grand tapestry of violent tragedy and sexual power games.
A few other highlights are a bizarre slideshow/multi-coloured spinning lights
illuminated beating of a group of strung up women, a train carriage fight with
some very unusual nuns, more nudity and various sexual trysts. A memorable sequence
sees Norifumi Suzuki’s camera linger over Reiko Ike’s body and caresses
it as she rubs a perfumed oil over her nakedness.
The aforementioned flogging scene is also a wonderful moment of uncompromising blasphemy as church organ music blares out over the soundtrack as chained naked flesh is ripped and torn before a holy altar. It comes as no surprise that Norifumi Suzuki also helmed the infamous ‘Naughty Nun’ shocker “Convent of the Sacred Beast”.
The finale itself is a tour-de-force of comic strip ultra violence, spurting
blood, stylish bubblegum pop flourishes, gaudy colouring, flashing steel and
strategically bared breasts (with Hendrix style guitar twiddling to accompany
it all) as Ochô unleashes her blade in a whirling, crimson streaked path
of destruction.
It’s a finale so damn perfect in every way, so damn satisfying on every
level, that it almost brings a tear to the eye.
Overall then, “Sex and Fury” is a wonderfully entertaining exercise (the odd stodgy plot element aside) in sex, blood, violence, attitude, surrealism, poetry, brutality and unforgettable style. All held together by a wonderful lead performance, solid support actors, sumptuous design and assured direction. Essential viewing!
We have those good people at ‘Panik
House Entertainment’ to thank for unleashing “Sex and Fury”
(and it’s sequel “Female Yakuza Tale”) onto the market place,
and they’ve unleashed it in fine style.
A glorious 2.35:1 anamorphic transfer ensures that the striking use of colour
and frame composition is retained and the crisp Japanese mono soundtrack does
the job perfectly well and balances the music and the dialogue nicely.
Thankfully the subtitles are also very good (although we could have done with
losing them on the English dialogue passages).
Extras are a trailer, photo galleries, bios, a text essay on ’Bad Girl
Cinema’ by Japanese film expert Chris D and a very informative audio commentary,
also by Chris D.
The main joy here though is (yet again from ’Panik House’) the packaging.
The decorated disc is housed in a clear DVD case, which also contains a transparent
sticker of Reiko Ike’s Ochô, and all this is clad in a clear slip
cover with Ochô on the front again. A striking package for an equally
striking movie.
