Black Lizard

I was fortunate enough to see "Black Lizard" at our local art cinema upon its very special U.S. release way back when and have searched high and low for the film on VHS, laserdisc and DVD ever since. The film is amazing, and I'm surprised it hasn't received that much attention amongst film buffs. Those of us who have seen it know what a wonderful film this is and I suggest that anyone who wants to see it again, at least on home video, should go to the logical source for a film like this - The Criterion Collection. Send them messages through their site telling them how special and important this film is and maybe, just maybe, they'll do something about it! I've already sent my request, so give it a shot. The more people request it, the better chance we have of seeing it get a DVD release! Long live "Black Lizard"!

IMDB calls this a comedy. This is not in any way. It's a crime drama.

A jewel thief kidnaps a jeweler's daughter to obtain one of those one-of-a-kind diamonds you often see in movies. But a detective stands in her way.

First, the Black Lizard aka the woman jewel thief is played by Akihiro Miwa, a male actor known to crossdress professionally. Strange casting decision. He doesn't pass as a woman at all. Not even as an ugly woman. Unfortunately, that made a movie I'd rate at 9 as more like 6 and a half.

The acting is a mixed bag. Some are very good. Some terrible. But the direction was brilliant. Especially the little audio & camera tricks. There are a couple of things that are less than believable but some things in this film are a bit cartoonish.

All in all this is a very good movie. Biggest problem is I never could accept the lead actor as a woman. Very distracting. Yet I still recommend this movie.

Rampo Edogawa is one of the most famous writers of Japan, not winner of any Nobel prize (for that we have the award nominee Yukio Mishima's more than weird cameo in this movie, who also adapts the story) but creator of the most famous Japanese detective, Akechi Kogoro, and father of the ero-grotesque genre in the country.

"Black Lizard" is one in the series of Akechi Kogoro's novels, and the movie has been able to adapt to the screen the spirit of Edogawa's writing. For that, it would be already an interesting movie, as Edogawa had a knack for the grotesque and bizarre, but the movie is interesting for what it is: a mystery, a battle of wits, with a couple of characters who are a lot of fun to be with: Akechi and the Black Lizard.

The story is pretty basic: the criminal "Black Lizard" wants to kidnap a jeweler's daughter, Sanae, and the jeweler contracts Akechi Kogoro to protect her. Cue the Black Lizard trying to kidnap the girl in different and very original ways, and Akechi trying to stop the criminal from doing so.

The atmosphere, dark and decadent, the music, the actors way of playing the characters, the 60s Japan, way different from nowadays... Fukusaku does a great job of bringing Edogawa's world to life. The way Akechi and Black Lizard meet and tease each other continuously (this movie is more in the vein of "Columbo", the detective and the criminal meeting throughout the movie and having very entertaining dialogues)... All makes for a very engrossing environment, and a really entertaining time at the movies. As with almost all of Edogawa's characters, the criminal is the most interesting character, and Akihiro Miwa does a great job of making an ambiguous character we care for. Isao Kimura as Akechi just keeps a stoic countenance, impassive and kind of heartless.

A very good movie, with a very particular atmosphere and scenery.

I'll be perfectly honest, from the beginning I had a hard time getting on board with this to any degree. In every capacity it is curt, direct, and forthright as soon as it begins. As the length draws on it increasingly swerves into a space so outrageous that the most immoderate self-indulgence of Eon Productions' James Bond franchise almost seems tame, and the hodgepodge that was 1967's 'Casino Royale' quite comes to mind. This is an approach that I can most definitely appreciate, and I absolutely have elsewhere; the trouble in this case is that I'm not certain of what the intent actually is in 'Black Lizard.' Initially, and at irregular intervals to come, the picture seems perfectly sincere, and just sorrily sloppy or inconsistent in how it is rendered. A little later, and elsewhere, the doing becomes so over the top that it could only be considered either an unblinking parody, or an excitably overcooked curiosity. Later still the feature becomes so outlandish that it leaps past James Bond to evoke genre romps like Toho's 'King Kong Escapes,' Adam West's 'Batman,' or the most theatrical and colorful of Vincent Price's horror flicks. What is going on here?! I can truthfully say that I like this, but I really don't know what to make of it.

The dialogue pretends at grandiosity, poetry, and profundity, but it kind of just comes off as word salad. The narrative pretends at a game of cat and mouse between Detective Akechi and the titular figure, but there's no requisite subtlety in the first place, and even if there were, it constantly has the rug pulled out from underneath it - or maybe a better frame of reference would be imagining panel after panel of Lucy withdrawing the football from under Charlie Brown. By the time we're only about thirty minutes in we're greeted with a scene that reminds me of the 'Star Trek: The next generation' episode "Elementary, dear Data," and this comparison will be appropriate again later. To wit: Data, having committed all of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories to memory, frustrates Geordi when a holodeck game based on such a story has scarcely begun and Data, knowing every detail, reveals the entirety of the mystery from the outset. Just as Data ruined the fun for Geordi, is it the case that Akechi ruins an earnest film for we viewers by demonstrating exact knowledge of the crime being committed? Or is this a bit that is part of the sly frivolity? The conventional surroundings of nightclubs, high-rises, and large homes gives way to elaborate set pieces and lavishly decorated hide-outs; restrained acting gives way to unfettered overacting; even the editing and cinematography change their tune over time. Is all this deliberate, or is it deficient?

I don't know Edogawa Rampo's novel, nor Mishima Yukio's play, and I don't believe I've encountered screenwriter Narusawa Masashige heretofore. I do know filmmaker Fukasaku Kinji, however, and there's no genre that he didn't dabble with at some point throughout his long, rather prolific career. Not all his works are equal, but of those I've seen to date, I've enjoyed all in some measure, and deeply loved others. I'm inclined to think the tack taken in 'Black Lizard' was purposeful, a twisted variation on conventional storytelling territory. One question that remains is whether this is a thread pulled through the novel and play and into the screenplay; another question that remains, despite my generosity, is just what Fukasaku was looking to do, and I'm still unsure. This is a movie that's all over the place, and it has either succeeded in its cheekiness or failed in its genuineness. Operating on the assumption that the result is precisely what it wanted to be - it's a wildcard, but I can't say I wasn't entertained! And even as I'm left somewhat mystified, more than not it really is well done.

Any stunts and effects that are employed here look fantastic and are duly exciting. The more straightforward visuals are aptly crafted; the most lovingly shaped costume design, hair, and makeup, and the most fanciful conceptions of set design (think Hammer or American International Productions horror, or fantasy from The Shaw Brothers or Jim Henson) are a gratifying sight for sore eyes. Some actors are given more to do than others - Akechi is rather plain and unemotional, so star Kimura Isao is just sort of there - but in fits and starts some have more opportunities than others to demonstrate their skills (luckily for Matsuoka Kikko, supporting character Sanae goes from "just a pretty face" to meaningfully expressing herself), and if nothing else, Maruyama Akihiro is to be commended for his wholehearted, committed performance as Black Lizard, giving the criminal mastermind a sense of personality and complexity beyond what is already more or less represented in the writing. Everyone behind the scenes did a great job, for that matter, even Fukasaku, cinematographer Dowaki Hiroshi, and editor Uraoka Keiichi at their most free-wheeling. Yes, I'm divided on the writing, but for good or for ill, Narusawa leaned into it; in the worst case scenario I admire the gumption, and in the best case scenario, the man pulled off a tricky maneuver in continuously riding a line between different tones.

It's an odd one, and I can't blame anyone who engages with this title and steps away flummoxed and turned off. Conversely, for those who are even more on the same wavelength and totally adore it, you have my congratulations. I'm stymied, and I was extremely skeptical up to a particular point (that is, roughly the 33-minute mark), but as 'Black Lizard' goes off the rails more and more, it does the unexpected and arcs back into my favor. This is a piece for those who are open to all the wide, weird possibilities of cinema, who are ready to take whatever comes their way and get what they can out of it. Be aware of what you're getting into (or not, I'm not the boss of you), but if you're receptive to the peculiar and have the chance to watch, this is enjoyable in its own way and worth checking out.

This movie from the king of yakuza (gang) films is a big departure from his other films. This movie is the penultimate camp/action film. Anyone who has been taken in with the martial arts films (esp. from Hong Kong) of late, should check this out. It's less focused on the action sequences than it is in developing a verbal tit-for-tat sparring between the villain & the policeman who is pursuing her (w/ whom she is also secretly in love). Having a villain who is a lovelorn but vengeful drama queen is a refreshing break from the usual Asian action fare (1970's - present) & demonstrates that despite better technical skill & more special effects, the art of cinema hasn't necessarily improved because of mastering new technology. I can't remember the last time I've laughed so hard in a movie. Seek this one out.