Arrow Video: Rampo Noir (2005) - Reviewed

Images courtesy of Arrow Video

The macabre writings of Edogawa Ranpo have had more than their fair share strutting across the Japanese silver screen.  From Yasuzo Masumura’s horrific 1969 romantic drama Blind Beast to Teruo Ishii’s Horrors of Malformed Men of the same year to the more recent Rampo of 1994 and Shinya Tsukamoto’s Gemini of 1999, Ranpo’s stories invariably found their way to the widescreen cinema canvas time and time again.  Circa 2005, following the release of Ichi the Killer and Uzumaki, the same production team assembled together a quartet of filmmakers from Suguru Takeuchi, Akio Jissoji, Hisayasu Sato and manga artist Atsushi Kaneko to make an anthological rumination on four short stories of the renowned Japanese horror author entitled Rampo Noir.  Previously released on DVD in the United States, the film now comes fully restored in a new limited edition set from Arrow Video featuring newly filmed interviews with three of the surviving directors and the cinematographer of the late Akio Jissoji.  The result is one of the more colorful J-horror anthologies prominently featuring pop Japanese actors Tadanobu Asano and Ryuhei Matsuda.

 
Starting off elliptical and hyperkinetic, we find a nameless naked Asano atop a circular pond in a desolate landscape that appears to be interdimensional in the film’s first segment Mars’ Canal by music video artist Suguru Takeuchi.  Featuring rapid-fire cuts of a naked heterosexual couple entwined and/or fighting and writhing about, the opening segment replete with negative cutting and scratchy 35mm sounds feels spoken of the same breath as Chris Cunningham’s Flex.  Next the film jumps into a tale of Mirror Hell, directed and filmed by Akio Jissoji and it is a surreal warping of vision while also playing on the notion of mirrors leading to other portals in spacetime.  Then we find the film testing the viewer’s gag reflexes with the perversely slimy sinewy quadriplegic affront Caterpillar from Hisayasu Sato.  Try to imagine Takashi Miike’s Audition if the girl got away with it.  Lastly, manga artist Atsushi Kaneko’s Crawling Bugs follows the obsessive fixations of a renowned actresses’ limo driver in a segment that for some will echo the sardonic pop visuals of Takashi Miike’s The Happiness of the Katakuris.

 
Not for the faint hearted and featuring many of the same cast and crew members behind Ichi the Killer with the ever-stunning Tadanobu Asano weaving his way from segment to segment shifting characterization and appearances throughout, Rampo Noir is hard uncompromising Edogawa Ranpo through the lens of mid-2000s Japanese transgression.  Freely blasting away at what previous filmmakers couldn’t get away with in 1969, the film switches between each director’s style and personal cinematographer giving viewers a most chameleonic endeavor of confrontational J-horror.  Asano is a great avatar moving throughout the film while those who are really looking will spot fellow Ichi the Killer costars Susumu Terajami and Nao Omori.  Ryuhei Matsuda, the son of legendary actor Yusaku Matsuda, also shows up in the film’s most transgressive segment.  Visually speaking and sonically, the film drastically changes throughout from feeling like a Stan Brakhage film in the first segment to having an intentionally blown-out digital look in later segments.  The score rendered jointly by Saiko Ai, Aramaki Kohei, Ikeda Ryoji and Yoshihide Otomo ranges from subtle to bombastic depending on the section, all preserved in LPCM 2.0 audio.

 
Where Arrow Video went above and beyond the call of duty with this forthcoming limited-edition release were the extras featuring interviews with Suguru Takeuchi, Hisayasu Sato, Atushi Kaneko and cinematographer Masao Nakabori reflecting on his experiences working for Akio Jissoji.  The set also comes with newly filmed interviews with actor Yumi Yoshiyuki and archival stage greeting footage with the cast and crew at the original premiere.  Most unexpected on this set is a feature-length behind-the-scenes making-of documentary from 2006 included in the features.  As always, Arrow Video saw fit to do reversible sleeve art including an illustrated collector’s booklet featuring new essay writing by Eugene Thacker and Seth Jacobowitz.  Looking at Rampo Noir now, while the film never really grows scary so to speak, the macabre horror elements, approaches to filmmaking and conceptual ideas still make this collectively a far more unnerving J-horror cocktail than, say, J-Horror Rising.  Fans of Ranpo’s writings and screen adaptations will be delighted with this.  While Blind Beast at present is the most horrific films of his works, Rampo Noir does stoke at that film’s dark cavernous weathers at times.

--Andrew Kotwicki