IzoIs death truly the end of a murderous rage? Not according to Takashi Miike's Izo, where the irrational hate which burns within the immortal frame of the titular protagonist persists long after death, and even long after reality as we know it. Izo's rampage is one driven by an all-consuming wrath, one which had almost completely deprived him of his conscience, his soul, his rational thinking. His ultimate pursuit is to reach those responsible--at least who he thinks is responsible--for inflicting this cursed doom upon him and punish them. And long and hard is the road out of Hell which leads to the light.
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Takashi Miike is a diverse and highly prolific director, although some of his most famous (or should I say "infamous") films deal with ultra-stylized sex and violence. It is then safe to say that Miike also deals in provocation, but what separates Izo from even his most unorthodox other works is both how truly bizarre this film is, and its ambition. Izo defies classification: is it a bloody slasher movie? Is it a samurai tale with a side of time-displaced horror? Is it a black comedy, a satire of the Japanese film industry? Hell, is it a musical? All of these samplings of genre and tone whirl together in an uncomfortable and strange blend, but one which feeds the next as the film goes forward. There is a deeply cynical, nihilistic feel pervading Izo, sometimes more subtle than others. More overt scenes are those such as when Izo crashes a public school, facing off against a band of schoolgirls in the hall, while students inside the classroom give sardonic definitions of concepts like "love" and "democracy". When Izo finally does confront the mass of the "aristocracy"--a group which seems to be a collections of silent tyrants over Japan, controlling aspects like the military and academics--they attempt to buy his loyalty with hollow offers like an honorary doctorate, just as those in power attempt to pawn off trinkets to deter us from our true motives. With the aristocracy--also fostering his former master, who had exploited Izo's loyalty to send him on his murderous crusade in exchange for the promise of power--they all come across as corrupt politicians and sycophants to the young-looking deity cradling a snake. These enemies of Izo's--and many more like them--are all unlikable, which would make them the perfect bill for the loathed antagonists; but Izo is hardly a saint...quite the opposite, really. Izo's almost complete lack of humanity makes him ill-suited to garner our sympathies--Miike has subverted our expectations of our "hero" by depriving us of our agency to sympathize with him. We can appreciate how he came to be in his unenviable position, but the fact remains that he is a soulless demon, and no amount of happy thoughts will ever make that different.
Izo moves in bold strokes, with the film staged to give us climactic confrontation after climactic confrontation. Actually, the unrelenting, rapid-fire sword fights can be tiring, although I consider this yet another knowing wink at the filmgoers on the part of Miike. Many action movies build to the big sword fight--Izo tests whether we can truly endure that constant flood of violence, and forces us to consider whether that concentrated rush is really what we want. Izo travels in the blink of an eye across time and space to different moments, encountering different warriors, some--like him--displaced from time, and the narrative continues cut to shreds. I suspect that the reason for this bandying about through time has to do with that Izo represents a kind of destructive force, and those kinds of violent displays of power--it is suggested--leaves a residual kind of trauma, a stain or a scar across time, where Izo is that taint. He is the avatar of the demon within all mankind, who propagates that violence and irrationality. Aside from the conspiracy between the deity/aristocracy and Izo, there is also another kind of wry battle being suggested slyly across the film, by virtue of the significant level of support Izo has in the sense that there are a predominance of preeminent Japanese actors playing roles throughout the film. I've looked at this that it is a symbolic kind of battle, one which the actors must also be in on. The excessive level of violence in both Izo (the film) and Izo (the character) makes it the kind of film which would likely be rejected in mainstream venues--at least in America. But maybe it's a bit different across the Pacific, with the massive amount of well-known actors performing roles where they are trying to inhibit the film's inception as a nigh unmarketable juggernaut, as if there were a cinematic conspiracy, not just the one of the plot. Music is a significant part of Izo; between the thumping of taiko drums ramping us up for the scenes of swordplay and action, or the meditative poetry of the acid-rock performer, Kazuki Tomokawa, delivering bizarre, seemingly inconsistent musical interjections into the film--as a character given unique attention when it's time for a song. That music roaring over the film like crashing waves does more to get us inside Izo's head than anything else. It's hard to cage Izo behind the comfortable labels we often apply to movies so that we have a better grasp on them. The film actively rebels against ease of access, and fights your expectations with a malicious protagonist bent on destroying everything. Izo is a puzzle, a collection of pieces which do not appear to fit as neatly as your average moviegoer might expect. But this is part of the fun, because that puzzle could be put together in a variety of ways and interpretations. Bloodthirsty monster or manipulated pawn in the game of gods? Why not both?
Recommended for: Fans of a philosophical horror/samurai film with violence and yet also deep considerations about the nature of things like imperfections in the universe. The story will challenge you in unexpected ways, so you will want to pay attention, and trust your gut to guide you to the deeper meaning you find in its metaphor.
Izo moves in bold strokes, with the film staged to give us climactic confrontation after climactic confrontation. Actually, the unrelenting, rapid-fire sword fights can be tiring, although I consider this yet another knowing wink at the filmgoers on the part of Miike. Many action movies build to the big sword fight--Izo tests whether we can truly endure that constant flood of violence, and forces us to consider whether that concentrated rush is really what we want. Izo travels in the blink of an eye across time and space to different moments, encountering different warriors, some--like him--displaced from time, and the narrative continues cut to shreds. I suspect that the reason for this bandying about through time has to do with that Izo represents a kind of destructive force, and those kinds of violent displays of power--it is suggested--leaves a residual kind of trauma, a stain or a scar across time, where Izo is that taint. He is the avatar of the demon within all mankind, who propagates that violence and irrationality. Aside from the conspiracy between the deity/aristocracy and Izo, there is also another kind of wry battle being suggested slyly across the film, by virtue of the significant level of support Izo has in the sense that there are a predominance of preeminent Japanese actors playing roles throughout the film. I've looked at this that it is a symbolic kind of battle, one which the actors must also be in on. The excessive level of violence in both Izo (the film) and Izo (the character) makes it the kind of film which would likely be rejected in mainstream venues--at least in America. But maybe it's a bit different across the Pacific, with the massive amount of well-known actors performing roles where they are trying to inhibit the film's inception as a nigh unmarketable juggernaut, as if there were a cinematic conspiracy, not just the one of the plot. Music is a significant part of Izo; between the thumping of taiko drums ramping us up for the scenes of swordplay and action, or the meditative poetry of the acid-rock performer, Kazuki Tomokawa, delivering bizarre, seemingly inconsistent musical interjections into the film--as a character given unique attention when it's time for a song. That music roaring over the film like crashing waves does more to get us inside Izo's head than anything else. It's hard to cage Izo behind the comfortable labels we often apply to movies so that we have a better grasp on them. The film actively rebels against ease of access, and fights your expectations with a malicious protagonist bent on destroying everything. Izo is a puzzle, a collection of pieces which do not appear to fit as neatly as your average moviegoer might expect. But this is part of the fun, because that puzzle could be put together in a variety of ways and interpretations. Bloodthirsty monster or manipulated pawn in the game of gods? Why not both?
Recommended for: Fans of a philosophical horror/samurai film with violence and yet also deep considerations about the nature of things like imperfections in the universe. The story will challenge you in unexpected ways, so you will want to pay attention, and trust your gut to guide you to the deeper meaning you find in its metaphor.