My Soul is Slashed (咬みつきたい, Shusuke Kaneko, 1991)

Released at the tail end of the Bubble-era, Shusuke Kaneko’s vampire dramedy My Soul is Slashed (咬みつきたい, Kamitsukitai) is one of a series of films that seems to be filled with a prophetic sense of dread and the feeling that the good times are about to come to an end. Fiercely critical of the costs of the salary man dream along with the amoral capitalism that seems to have accompanied it, the film may also be drawing inspiration from a then recent contaminated blood scandal as haemophiliacs in Tokyo and Osaka sued the government in 1989 after contracting HIV through infected transfusions.

The hero, Ishikawa (Ken Ogata), works for a pharmaceuticals company that has been accused of engaging in corrupt practices and bribing the government to be able to sell unlicensed medical products. Ishikawa is not aware of this and does not believe the rumours, so is keen to find out what’s been going on at his company. After making some enquiries and attempting to get in touch with a friend in the media, however, Ishikawa is involved in a hit-and-run and taken to hospital where he receives a blood transfusion but eventually dies of his injuries.

A researcher at the same facility, Yuzuko (Narumi Yasuda), has secretly come by a pack of Dracula’s blood that was apparently lost during the recent revolution in Romania where deposed dictator Ceausescu had been experimenting with it. For reasons best known to herself, she decides to stash the blood in the “do not use” draw of the medical fridge, only for it to come to life and jump into the shelf below. Though there is some concern among the medical staff that the pack is not properly marked with a blood type or other information, other staff members become indignant on being questioned about it, so the operating team go ahead and use the unmarked pack without proper procedure being followed, which is how Ishikawa ends up receiving contaminated blood, in this case that apparently belonging to “Dracula”. A distraught Yuzuko attends Ishikawa’s funeral and tells his teenage daughter Saeko (Hikari Ishida) that, assuming she is a virgin, she can revive her father by sprinkling her blood on his ashes, which she does, though Ishikawa is not resurrected until a year later.

Ishikawa had been a loyal salaryman who worked hard and believed in his company, which is why he was so shocked by the rumours and by the suggestion of his colleague Kitahara (Takero Morimoto) that the buck stops with the company president. As a consequence of his dedication to the firm, however, Ishikawa has neglected his family and become a ghostly presence within his own home to the extent that he hardly ever sees his daughter and has, in fact, forgotten her birthday, asking his secretary to pick up a dress as a present which turns out to be too small for her to wear. Saeko appears rather indifferent towards him while is alive and has also started rebelling by staying out all night with her queer-coded, motorcycle-riding friend. Though she misses him when he’s gone, Saeko is also in favour of her mother remarrying a much more attentive man, Tokita (Kazuyoshi Kushida), who brought her a cake for her birthday and seems to fill in with all the other paternal tasks that Ishikawa never paid any attention to because he was so focused on his career.

It’s his dedication to his company that Ishikawa most regrets on being resurrected. A year has passed and his family’s already moved on, doing just fine without him, while he was scapegoated for the bribery scandal at work and died in disgrace which might explain why both Saeko and her mother are working around the clock to support themselves. He realises that even though he’s come back, he is not the same person and he cannot simply slot back into his former life even if he’s been able to forge a new relationship with Saeko who declares that she doesn’t care if he’s Dracula, he’s still her father and a good person. At the same time, Ishikawa comes to accept his new Dracula persona as a potential means for good, insisting that there are plenty of bloodsucking people in the contemporary society and Dracula doesn’t seem too bad by comparison.

The interesting this is that Yuzuko’s attraction to him also seems to be bound up with his position as a father, having lost her own at a young age. Yuzuko’s father was apparently one of the foremost Dracula researchers in the world who also helped countless vampires return to being human, even if it didn’t work for everyone and some ended up as ashes once again. Though dating an age-appropriate colleague, she complains that he’s “too young” for her, and longs for the centuries-old embrace of Dracula which is also a reflection of her quasi-incestuous desire for her father whom she never really knew. On the other hand, Saeko comes to a new appreciation of her now anti-corporate dad and resolves that, though she may have his workaholic blood, she won’t sacrifice herself for a company and will earn a living doing something she likes while hanging out with her maybe girlfriend.

Which is all to say, Ishikawa is more alive now he’s “dead” than he ever was while his heart was still beating. Using his Dracula powers to expose the company’s wrongdoing and force his killer to confess live on air, he turns his back on culturally defined notions of corporate success and retreats to live a quiet life with Yuzuko, who has also become a vampire, in a travelling blood donation van. “Clean blood is rare these days,” Ishikawa reflects hinting at the various corruptions of the late Bubble society which itself heading for an implosion. The project apparently started because Ogata wanted to play a role completely against type, which he undoubtedly does, in embodying an incongruous source of vampiric paternal authority that is determined to live outside the system rather than chase corporate success.


Many Happy Returns (教祖誕生, Toshihiro Tenma, 1993)

Cults, or “new religion” organisations as they’re euphemistically known, proliferated in Japan after the war. Though people may have joined them out of loneliness in search of new families or communities, the numbers only seemed to increase in the era of high prosperity as a sense of spiritual emptiness countered the age of consumerism. Coming in 1993 and based on Takeshi Kitano’s own novel, Many Happy Returns Toshihiro Tenma’s (教祖誕生, Kyoso Tanjo) approaches the issue with a genial humour that likely became impossible two years later with the involvement of Aum in the Tokyo subway attack.

Kazuo (Masato Hagiwara), a wandering young man, asks himself why people join join cults while insisting that all looks so fake but later becomes fascinated with them himself. He can tell that the elderly woman who can suddenly walk again after an encounter with the leader (Masami Shimojo) is probably a plant, but is intrigued rather than outraged. Shiba (Takeshi Kitano), the actual “leader” of the group, tells him that it doesn’t matter. The leader healed the lady before at some point in the past, and they’re just reenacting it to show the power of god, which doesn’t really make sense, but it seems to satisfy Kazuo for the moment. 

Of course, Shiba and Go (Ittoku Kishibe) are just a pair of yakuza types running a religious cult as a business to fleece money out of vulnerable people in the countryside by making them think their leader can make all their problems better. The only thing is, Shiba and Go seem to be the only ones who know it’s all fake while current leader has started to believe that he actually has real healing powers despite using an electricity generator to create the sparks of energy flying from his hands during his healing sessions. Though the old lady in a wheelchair is a plant, the leader sometimes agrees to heal other people who request it, which could end up backfiring if Shiba can’t find a way to fake the miracle.

After becoming alarmed that the Leader is too into his religious speeches and has fallen victim to his own patter despite obviously knowing that it’s all made up, Shiba and Go pay him to leave the cult but are then left with a dilemma over how to appoint a successor. Komamura (Koji Tamaki), who’d tried to undermine Shiba’s leadership, is a religious zealot who joined the cult to be closer to god. He objects to Shiba’s godless ways, and while Shiba briefly considers making him the leader to keep him quiet, ends up appointing Kazuo who only recently started tagging along with the cult.

Though Kazuo was originally only interested in the cult precisely because it was fake, once he becomes the leader he starts to think it’s real too. He takes his responsibilities seriously, which means of course that he threatens Shiba’s position and is torn between the real nature of cult which he knows to be a cynical way of making money by exploiting vulnerable people, and the genuine religiosity of Komamura. To look the part and boost his confidence, he starts undertaking ascetic practices such as bathing in waterfalls and going on long, isolated retreats during which he also fasts. Shiba and Go, meanwhile, stuff their faces at a local Chinese restaurant in an orgy of consumerism.

Kazuo asks Shiba if the believes in god, but Shiba counters him by asking what his idea of “god” is. Kazuo believes that “god” heals the sick and helps those in trouble, but Shiba points out that that’s never actually happened, while at least their made-up religion helped some people, so in a way it’s more godlike than actual god. In any case, Shiba’s god is probably consumerism, but unlike Go it seems he has a degree of uncertainty and entertains the possibility that some kind of god really exists and will punish him for his wrongdoing and lack of faith. When he is attacked and ends up killing someone, Kazuo tells him that it’s his punishment for denying god and chasing after money which Shiba eventually concedes to be true. Nevertheless, the closing scenes find him starting again by reuniting with the previous leader, now dressed as a catholic priest, to offer the same patter about healing miracles while warning about false cults and fake religions. Kazuo, meanwhile, has fully accepted the role of an emissary of god by kicking out Go for not taking the religion seriously while preparing to meet his own apotheosis in a sold out show attended by people who, like he once was, are spiritually lost and ironically looking for something that means more than money in this increasingly empty society.


Trailer (no subtitles)

Third Base (サード, Yoichi Higashi, 1978)

third posterJapanese cinema of the 1970s is a highly charged affair. Stories of alienated youth and nihilistic denials of future possibility predominate as the (usually) male protagonist assesses his place within a rigid and conformist society and often comes to the conclusion that there is none for him. While political turmoil continues to undermine these deeply held values of social conformity and passive acceptance, young men suffer individually and in private until, that is, they find themselves punished by society for the transgressions it causes them to commit. Scripted by Shuji Terayama and adapted from a novel by Haku Kenjo, Yoichi Higashi’s Third Base (サード, Third) is the story of one such young man who has found himself confined to a reformatory with no hope for the future and no direction in which to run.

Seno (Toshiyuki Nagashima), known as “Third”, is an inmate at Kanto – Asahi Reform School. Like most of the other boys, Third is in for violent crime – in his case, murder, and is not exactly a model pupil. In fact, he’s currently in solitary after fighting with another boy who spat in his soup. Though the atmosphere of the school is severe with an emphasis on slightly militarised discipline, it is also progressive and geared towards finding out why these young men came to exhibit such unwelcome behaviours and how they might be able to overcome them. Hence, the fight is not only punished with solitary confinement but a group discussion among all present during which both Seno and the other boy are encouraged to recognise the various ways in which they are both at fault.

A strange thought experiment in Seno’s diary causes mild alarm to one of the staff at the school. “The connection between a car and a spring – which goes around more?” – the doctor is confused by this unusual sentence but on being asked to elaborate Seno makes clear he’s talking about a wind up car. When you wind it up the wheels go round but if you hold the spring the car will turn, and if you hold the car the spring will turn. This is the relationship Seno was puzzled by – which one is turning the other. The doctor draws the conclusion that the “spring” is juvenile delinquency and the car is society, but Seno insists he’s just talking about a toy car.

Yet there is something in it. Some of the boys are inside because of economic oppression, entering lives of crime through lack of other options but there are also upperclass boys in here too who have never been hungry and have no reason to steal. Another of the staff tells a disinterested Third about a relative of his who ended up in a reform school despite coming from an “elite” home. The boy claims he rebelled because “there is no such thing as equality – it is simply a word to make people feel better”. His crimes were intended to expose a societal lie. Likewise, the boy turned the same logic on murder claiming that wars and genocide were abhorrent, but individualist murders were “beautiful”. A short while later the young man took his own life – presumably something the reform school staff are eager Third does not do.

Suicide is a choice which is presented to Third – when one of the other boys runs off during outdoor labour, he hangs himself in the woods rather than try to escape. Third’s nickname is inspired by his position on the baseball field – third base, which he says he played neither well or badly. It is also an ironic comment on his existence in which he is neither one thing nor another, at odds in the free world and among those other outsiders imprisoned in the reformatory. Yet suicide is an idea Third rejects. Considering the other boy’s fate, Third feels himself to be running in “another direction”, wanting to live but not knowing how. A recurrent dream finds him on the baseball field, running the bases only to find there is no home plate. What Third wants is to locate his home base, to finally find his place in the world where he can belong and be accepted, but until he knows where it is he’ll just be running without aim or purpose.

Running in his mind, Third is imprisoned but only through his confinement does he learn to find the world “beautiful”. His cellmate has a similar thought but confesses he’s begun to find his hope “boring”, that freedom only inspires hopelessness. It’s this sense of ennui and apathy which pushes these young men towards violence and frustration, unable to find a more productive way to propel themselves forward and getting stuck at the bottom of the pile in a society which tries to straightjacket them into lives which are both undesirable and unattainable. Running still, Third does seem to have found a potential solution in instructing his breathless running mate to move at his own pace – embracing individualism over social conformity. Nevertheless, home base seems an elusive destination and Third will be a longtime running if ever he really does find his place in an essentially uncaring society.


Original trailer (no subtitles)