Rampo Noir

Lengthy anthology of films made from stories by Edogowa Rampo, that all seem to revolve around obsessive love and the consequences of feeling; 'Since I fell in love with you my life has been hell'. First up, 'Mars Canal' comprises a naked man walking across what appears to be a lunar landscape and recalling a naked fight with a lover (?). Not much in this one for me and 'experimental' would probably be the correct tag. Next up, Mirror Hell was a fairly interesting but rather convoluted tale involving mirrors and ladies dying after a tea ceremony. I liked a lot of this but thought it could have been better told. Caterpillar, I thought was masterful. We are confronted with a mere torso and head of a man who is being further injured and degraded (and whipped) by his wife. She says he has returned injured from war and only she can bear to face him but certainly does not treat him very 'lovingly' as we would conceive of the word. There is a lot here of love and hate, of need and possession and although it is at times very hard to watch I was most impressed. The final, Crawling Bugs, doesn't quite match up to the Sato film but is well shot and certainly well worth watching. All told a surprisingly good quartet and tempts one towards the writings of the mysterious, Mr Rampo.

This film, an adaptation of four (really three) short stories penned by Edogawa Rampo, is unfortunately more stomach-churning than it is stylish. Given the uniform elegance of RAMPO NOIR's composition and design, that makes the ick factor pretty high. After the relative subtlety and effectiveness of the first piece, "Mirror Hell," the ensuing parade of erotic leeches, quadriplegic sex, sadism, mutilation and necrophilia should be enough to put almost anyone off their dinner. Potential viewers, you've been warned. The images, which are beautiful, will stay with you, but they'll probably inspire a queasy stomach more than they will a sense of fascination and horror. Here's hoping it was more palatable on the page.

I thought the movie was... interesting. Some parts a little too artsy. I'm not really here to debate the movie but, to ask about the warning in the beginning. What are the EXACTLY talking about pertaining the "intended effects"? I'm not sure if they're talking about the blockey distorted appearance of a scratched DVD or if its just the one I'm watching. After a few minutes it gave me a little headache. I thought that that was what they were warning about until towards the end when the guy in crawling bugs says, "what was I thinking?" then the movie was "normal". I had rented the movie from Blockbuster and it was brand new and undamaged.

Rampo Noir is one of my favorite horror anthologies, sharing a similar disturbing, visceral feeling to Subconscious Cruelty (2000). (Check out my review for it if you have time.) The film is a fascinating, yet uneven, collection of four stories, each directed by a different filmmaker adapting a tale by Rampo Edogawa. The only constant thread is actor Tadanobu Asano, who takes on a new role in each segment, from a naked wanderer to a private detective. The movie has almost giallo-esque vibes, aesthetically and argumentatively, a strange cocktail of David Cronenberg's body horror and the aesthetic of films like Heroic Purgatory (1970) (check out my review if you have time here) and House (1977).

The directors involved are an interesting mix of seasoned artists. Legendary Akio Jissoji, whose "Buddhist Trilogy" is a work I adore and recommend, and whose name you might also have seen on the famous Ultraman TV series and his acclaimed Art Theatre Guild films, directs one segment. Another is from Hisayasu Satô, an icon of pinku cinema. Mangaka Atsushi Kaneko and director Suguru Takeuchi round out the quartet.

Of the four, the two standout chapters are Takeuchi's opening segment, "Mars Canal," and Satô's "Caterpillar." "Mars Canal" is a short, silent parable about a naked, vulnerable man at a lake, almost like a piece of living art. The simplicity and atmosphere make it a hypnotic start to the film.

The Metamorphosis of Caterpillar: The most absurd and grotesquely captivating storyline is "Caterpillar," the complete story of a war hero who returns home completely dismembered-a quadruple amputee, mute, and facially scarred. His wife, the artist, treats him not as a husband but as a living canvas. She dresses him, feeds him, and parades him around, obsessing over her creation. It's a horrific allegory about control, love, and the monstrous ways in which we can possess another. The wife's affection is a twisted kind of horror; her love is a form of artistic subjugation. She sees her husband as a prize, a bizarre specimen she has reshaped and kept in a jar. In her mind, she's transforming him from a "caterpillar" of war into something beautiful and powerless. The ending climax of this story is a shocking, visceral and fully embracing the erotic grotesque themes of the source material.

The Mirror and the Bugs:

The other two segments, Jissoji's "Mirror Hell" and Kaneko's "Crawling Bugs," are also ingenious but less compelling. "Mirror Hell" follows a detective as he investigates a series of mysterious deaths caused by a man who creates mirrors that seem to burn people's faces off. This segment explores obsession with self-image and the danger of perspective.

"Crawling Bugs" is a strange, unsettling tale of a man with a mental illness that makes him feel like bugs are crawling on his skin whenever he's near other people. He becomes obsessed with a beautiful theater actress, fantasizing about a life with her. This story is an unsettling, dirty dive into the themes of idolization and loneliness, where the protagonist creates his own reality to escape the horrors of the one he's trapped in.

Overall, Rampo Noir is a must-watch for diehards of the directors here and also for anyone who enjoys Japanese horror and isn't afraid of a little absurdity.

Exploring the darker edges of eeriness, sexuality, and bizarre, horror-esque art with unconventional layers of psychological deviance, Rampo Noir is challenging as it is horrifically disturbing, presenting the writer's fiction in radical ways, hoping to push boundaries but never quite succeeding. Partly due to the violent, sadomasochistic sex scenes that often crop up, but also because it's not always immediately clear what the filmmakers are trying to say, thanks to their ponderously slow approach. There's only so much time you can spend on artistically rotting corpses and auditory excess before you're going to annoy someone, but the film remains consistently refreshingly and cinematically striking with an unabashed eroticism and willingness to plunge into the dark realms of Rampo's work. Each director breathes life into their own respective take on the material, all have a unique visual style, which help draw you into their strange worlds, be it exploitation or arthouse; each segment carves its own identity, although, admittedly, some more to my taste than others, with the high points being the two segments that bookend the feature and, ironically, come from the two newcomers. Suguru Takeuchi delivers a full-on avant-garde experimental and introspective short, full of evocative imagery in what is a beautifully surreal and breathtakingly stunning, if bitterly short, dive into existential dread. Atsushi Kaneko, meanwhile, more well-known for his status as a mangaka, makes an impressive directorial debut with the finale, blending his usual sensibilities with a lush cinematic intensity and plenty of darkly comedic moments. That being said, the other two segments are far from a slouch. Adapting his third Rampo tale, Akio Jissoji's usual keen eye for composition and signature stylistic flourishes turn his short into a mesmerising fever dream. Hisayasu Sato, meanwhile, delivers a grimly gruesome tale, taking Rampo's work to its most grotesque extreme, containing mutilation and plenty of bodily fluids. It's presented with an unusual use of light and colour, as unsettling as it is provocative, a visceral commentary on physical and emotional dependency. Despite the mismatched feel of the whole affair, Rampo Noir's hallucinogenic approach to narrative and visuals is nothing short of invigorating.