Kaiju

Kibakichi

kibakichi

Kibakichi (2004)

Ryuji Harada plays Kibakichi, a swordsman and werewolf who is constantly under attack by bounty hunters while traveling through the countryside to escape his past. Kibakichi discovers a village of Yokai, monsters like himself that have assumed the personas of human beings in order to survive. The Yokai are working on a deal with the yakuza to give them a place to lead their lives as they want to. Kibakichi warns the Yokai not to trust humans and just as he is about to leave, the yakuza, led by Yomaji (Mubu Nakayama), betray the Yokai and launch a violent assault on their village. Caught in the crossfire, Kubakichi uses his superior sword-fighting skills and his powers as a Yokai to defend his kind.

Director Tomoo Haraguchi brings this wild and explosive horror fantasy film to life. Kibakichi superbly combines traditional Japanese monsters with action movie bravado resulting in a jaw dropping experience. The choreography in the sword fighting scenes and the stunt work in the film’s finale are excellent.

The special effects are simplistic but ambitious. The Yokai, taken straight from Japanese lore, look great and there is plenty of blood and gore (both red and blue) spilled throughout. Various filters are used to dowse the film in gorgeous earth tones, giving Kibakichi its own unique and proto-classic look.

The streamlined plot revels in its traditional “lone swordsman” storyline but removes all traces of subtlety to keep in step with the director’s crowd-pleasing style. The action just keeps on coming rarely slowing to allow any audience to lose interest. Even the film’s message is trite: human beings ruin everything.

The actors in Kibakichi perform with a very representational acting style making the film feel like a bizarre theatrical production. This style complements the film’s script, which is laden with melodrama and moments meant to tug on the viewer’s heartstrings. Ryuji Harada is perfect as the stone-faced and deadly Kibakichi.

Kibakichi is one hell of an ambitious and truly weird film. It breaks all the rules of its multiple genres (just check out the yakuza’s arsenal) and yet still captures the conventions that make samurai films so memorable. Most viewers will find it difficult not to be blown away by the sheer bombastic audacity of the film’s climax. Followed by a crappy sequel.

Matango

matango

Matango (1963)

On a sailing excursion, a mixed group of disenchanted socialites and working class sailors get caught in a storm. With their communication and navigation equipment destroyed, the group drift for days until they come upon a seemingly uninhabited island. While searching for food on the island, they discover an abandoned ship run ashore on the other side of the island.

Inside the moldy vessel loaded with radiation research equipment, a captain’s log records the crew losing their sanity over the lack of food. The log also warns against eating the matango mushrooms that grow on the island because they cause insanity. While the group struggles to find food and repair the sailboat to escape the island (especially after some ghostly apparitions appear one night), some become too hungry and consume the mushrooms despite the warnings. Before long, symptoms far worse than insanity begin to plague the matango eaters and the remaining crew must fend themselves against unimaginable horrors.

This has got to be the strangest motion picture from Toho Films in the 1960s (aside from Frankenstein Conquers the World). Ishiro Honda, director of the original Godzilla and many other Kaiju (giant monster) films, brings the wild and weird Matango (AKA Attack of the Mushroom People AKA Fungus of Terror) to life. With sumptuous cinematography and a genuinely tense and creepy atmosphere, this is definitely not your average mushroom-horror film.

Another lavish part of the film are the sets and the locations. The magnificent tropical island blends seamlessly with the dank jungle where the matango thrive. The abandoned ship which the castaways use as their home on the mysterious island is very detailed and creates many opportunities for spooky moments, none of which are missed. The costuming and the makeup on the mushroom creatures as well as the humans in the process of turning into giant mushrooms are both top notch.

The cast is awesome and expertly conveys the growing tension aboard the claustrophobic quarters they find themselves as well as their terror as they begin to realize something is terribly wrong on the island. It’s hard to imagine a cast looking at the script for Matango and not jumping ship (literally). From the gratuitous musical number(s), overtones of sexual repression, hallucinogenic mushroom use, and seven and half foot laughing phallic symbols, these folks had their work cut out for them.

Matango is custom made for fans of creepy horror films or just plain freaky Japanese cinema. With themes of urban decay and the loss of innocence poured into its already intoxicating concoction, this film is impossible to ignore and will no doubt be showing up time and again on the shelves of J-horror and Toho buffs. I implore you. Please, do not eat the mushrooms.