Gakuryu Ishii’s Punk Samurai is an anarchic take… | Little White Lies

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Gakuryu Ishii’s Punk Samu­rai is an anar­chic take on an unfilmable’ manga

14 Mar 2023

Words by Anton Bitel

Person wearing green and yellow costume and face paint, holding decorative staff in front of black backdrop with patterned banners.
Person wearing green and yellow costume and face paint, holding decorative staff in front of black backdrop with patterned banners.
A ronin with lofty ambi­tions tells a white lie that quick­ly spi­rals out of con­trol in this riotous samu­rai flick.

Punks are that bit of rough on the edges of clean soci­ety – the dis­rup­tors and agi­ta­tors who, like the ancient Cyn­ics, flout rules, defy con­ven­tion and wave their ars­es in the face of respectabil­i­ty. Per­haps their clos­est ana­logue in the Edo peri­od was the rōnin, or mas­ter­less samu­rai’, whose very exis­tence, giv­en that samu­rai whose lords had died were expect­ed to com­mit rit­u­al sui­cide, was con­sid­ered a shame­ful affront to the warrior’s code of hon­our known as bushido.

Adapt­ed from Ko Machida’s 2014 nov­el Punk Samu­rai Slash Down, Punk Samu­rai (Pankiu-zamu­rai, kirarete sôrô) focus­es on the rōnin Junoshin Kake (Gô Ayano), whose first act upon enter­ing the north­ern domain of Kuroaei at the film’s begin­ning is to cut down, with­out provo­ca­tion, a father trav­el­ling on a pil­grim­age with his blind daugh­ter. Con­front­ed over this cal­lous act by ner­vous local clans­man Shume Nagaoke (Kôen Kondô), Kake warns that the man was a mem­ber of the Bellyshak­er Par­ty, a bizarre cult who have brought riot­ing and ruin wher­ev­er they go.

This place is doomed,” declares Junoshin. Yet his accu­sa­tions and admo­ni­tions are all a ruse. The man he mur­dered, far from being a Bellyshak­er, was an inno­cent bystander in the open­ing gam­bit of Junoshin’s self­ish, cyn­i­cal ploy. For Junoshin plans to enter the favour of Lord Kuroae (Masahi­ro Higashide) – said by the nar­ra­tor to be the most inflex­i­ble, seri­ous and eccen­tric, impul­sive and straight­for­ward trou­bling leader” – and to use his own sup­posed exper­tise in the Cult, as well as his skills as a super swords­man, to earn him­self the cov­et­ed sta­tus of retain­er. The irony is, this place real­ly is doomed, with Junoshin’s own sub­terfuge and slaugh­ter even­tu­al­ly bring­ing the whole place into chaot­ic disorder.

One of Kuroae’s chief retain­ers, Naito Tate­wa­ki (Etsushi Toyokawa), imme­di­ate­ly sees through Junoshin’s deceit, but decides to play along with it, see­ing this as an oppor­tu­ni­ty to dis­place rival retain­er Ohu­ra Shuzen (Jun Kunimu­ra), who, after express­ing scep­ti­cism about the cult, finds him­self sur­re­al­ly demot­ed to a small-town mon­key com­mis­sion­er’. In fact, sur­re­al­ism abounds in this film direct­ed by Gakuryû (for­mer­ly Sogo) Ishii, and script­ed by Kankurô Kudô, where char­ac­ters’ lies mix with way­ward irra­tional­i­ty to desta­bilise not only the Kuroae Domain, but the entire jidaege­ki genre.

Woman in colourful traditional costume kneeling among other people in similar attire.

As Junoshin and Naito con­spire to con­vince mad Bellyshak­er-in-hid­ing Chaya­ma Han­ro (an unrecog­nis­able Tadanobu Asano), his allur­ing acolyte Ron (Keiko Kita­gawa) and the moron­ic mes­sen­ger Osamu (Ryûya Wak­a­ba) to res­ur­rect the cult (“like mak­ing copies of a coun­ter­feit”) so that they can build their own power­base against it, the des­per­ate, down­trod­den pop­u­lace is quick to turn to this sham religion’s false promis­es, becom­ing a gen­uine threat to the rul­ing order.

It is at this point that the film’s omni­scient nar­ra­tor (Masatoshi Nagase) – whose improb­a­ble iden­ti­ty will not be spoilt here – steps for­ward and offers his own immense army to help Kuroae’s small remain­ing force, in one of sev­er­al arbi­trary nar­ra­tive turns that deft­ly dis­man­tle any notion of real­ism in the film, and leave the view­er reel­ing in a wilder­ness of wtf?!.

I don’t under­stand any of it,” Junoshin will com­plain near the end of Punk Samu­rai. For Ishii has cre­at­ed a colour­ful, jaun­ty world in which rogue ideas rule, the laws of physics do not apply and any­thing can hap­pen. Amid all the snow­balling lies, mag­i­cal pow­ers and divine inter­ven­tions, the Bellyshak­ers’ out­landish belief that all of real­i­ty has been swal­lowed by a giant tape­worm no longer seems so implausible.

The decon­struc­tive absur­dism of Punk Samu­rai, grad­u­al­ly upend­ing the very ground that the char­ac­ters tread, sets these Toku­gawa capers to Toshiyu­ki Mori’s anachro­nis­tic score of rock­a­bil­ly, spaghet­ti west­ern stylings and a House of the Ris­ing Sun cov­er, with – of course – The Sex Pis­tols’ punk anthem Anar­chy in the U.K. play­ing over the clos­ing cred­its. It’s a bold, brassy, out­ra­geous, often very fun­ny sto­ry about human­i­ty – and oth­er ani­mals – strug­gling to find their way in an unjust world of fak­ery and illu­sion, where the real punk is Ishii himself.

Punk Samu­rai is released on Blu-ray by Third Win­dow Films, 13th March, 2023

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