Izo

IZO (4+ outta 5 stars) Well, this movie gets only 2 kinds of ratings... either really low or really high. There's no way around it... you will have to see it for yourself to figure out which it deserves. I found the movie a bit confounding at first... but it definitely makes more sense after a second and third viewing. There really isn't much of a plot. Izo, a dead warrior, is flung arbitrarily through time. He kills everyone he comes into contact with... good, bad, he makes no distinctions. The movie is director Takashi Miike's attempt at some kind of philosophical dissertation on violence and religion. Pretentious? Well, of course! When you get right down to it, ALL philosophy is pretentious! But, is the movie entertaining? Yes. Does it provoke thought? Yes. (Even if most people's thoughts will be along the lines of "What the f*** is going on???") Imaginatively-staged action sequences are piled on non-stop, one after the other. Occasionally the action stops for some rousing acoustic guitar and wild folk-singing from Kazuki Tomakawa... who will either have you covering your ears or desperately searching for his records online. Extremely violent movie, very powerful at times ... similar in style to Jodorowsky's "El Topo". If you think you will like this movie based on the descriptions you read, you probably will. If you think it sounds like boring twaddle... well, you better go watch something else.

I was expecting a samurai film, I couldn't have been wronger. It is hard to explain "Izo" with just words, even if I could I don't think it would cover all the things this film has to say.

Before explaining the story of this film I think it is essential to talk about the visual aspect of it. "Izo" looks like another experimental film from the director Takashi Miike, lots of unorthodox camera shots and visual story telling. Acting feels very theatrical... in a Japanese way. There is no stopping in this film, it is a fast ride from start to the end and you have to catch up with it.

As for the story, Izo is the main character in this, a samurai from feudal Japan who apparently had a lot of drama in his life. After his death his tortured soul wanders around modern and old Japan, endlessly taking lives. He denies the existence of God, faces old foes, those who hold grudge against him, sleeps with his mom and kills her, he sees women he had been with, kills them, kills lots of women, kills lots of everything actually. And the whole Japan -modern and old- wants to stop this guy, he is seen as a menace to the system, he doesn't belong to the system. And he travels back and forth in time, fighting and killing everyone that gets in his way, slowly turning into a demon.

There is a lot of defiance in "Izo", against everything human civilization stands for. Its purpose apparently is to question that which made us what we are. Where does religion, law, ethics come from? And it has a very nihilist answer to all of it. While watching this I felt a lot of mythology in it, feels like a Greek or a Persian tragedy.

What I've written might sound non-sense if you haven't yet seen this and have no idea what it is like but this is as much as I can do to explain this film. I think that's what makes good art: It speaks for itself...

Izo is a vector-movie: it has a point of origin (Izo is put to death in the opening sequence), direction and speed (arbitrary revenge as determined by the edge of Izo's sword), but no destination. It must be stressed that unlike "traditional" narratives, it consciously avoids the end-point/solution/destination. The movie lets the aesthetics of its form shape the meaning of the story. The aesthetics in question being: hyper-loaded symbolism as conjured in Noh theater; PS2 architecture of the action - labyrinthine violence for its own sake leading up to the next level, which is more of the same with a different CGI background; MTV approach to video editing - Izo's bounces between layers of reality with the approximate speed of a cable channel surfer are spliced with archival footage and several "unplugged" Kazuki Tomokawa performances where the ancient Greek chorus would provide emotional emphasis.

The experience is not exactly rewarding but definitely unparalleled.

Apart from some questionable world-conspiracy and misogyny moments, an overall entertaining, extreme, and cryptically new take on film storytelling. Miike in his radical element.

I've seen my share of Lynch, Cronenberg, Tsukamoto, and other Miike films in the past, and I must say for a fact that IZO beats everything else currently out there for extreme bizarreness.

After watching the film for 2 hours, there was still a lot of head scratching from the audience leaving the theater. What did it mean? What exactly happened? What was the purpose? But do you expect any less from Takashi Miike?

As what I gathered, an assassin named IZO is crucified as punishment, from what we don't know, probably a few hundred years ago. His punishment instead goes beyond multiple spearings through his body, but eternal damnation of life, where time, space, and dimension are not clear.

It seems IZO has the capability of traveling through random times and space, but randomly out of nowhere. He kills whoever may be in his path, as they are trying to kill him. The purpose of his eternal damnation is not truly clear and he seeks on a Reason. A Reason in a place where Reason doesn't exist.

Add to the package a Huge body count (not as bloody as you would expect actually), some sex, samurai and cartoonish violence, random old stock footage, zombies, a randomly appearing folk singer giving metaphoric songs on occasion, snakes, caterpillars, and birth itself, it is one unique picture.

Did I get it? Nope. Did I enjoy it? I think I did. A second viewing is what I must give it eventually. 8/10

The latest chapter in Takeshi Miike's continuing essay on humanity and brutality, IZO is a two-hour experimental mind-trip.

If this film were in any way concerned with making sense, the storyline might resemble something like this: A man is brutally murdered in ancient Japan, but, bearing his vengeance, he returns to the Earth and wanders uncontrollably through time and space, becoming the embodiment of mankind's self-destructive nature. Throughout his wanderings, he encounters all kinds of strange and metaphoric characters, and he proceeds to kill them all with his samurai sword.

This film is an elaborate thesis on mankind, but the exact nature of the message is a matter of debate, as is whether or not Takeshi Miike himself even has a clue. There will no doubt be differing opinions as to what the characters represent, but you better make up your mind during the first hour of film. After that, most of the scenes that obviously point out a social message - like black-and-white footage of war - disappear, and what the resolution is depends on your interpretation of the characters.

For those of you not familiar with the works of Takeshi Miike, suffice it to say that he is determined to mine the human subconscious in search of new and exciting ways to make people throw up sushi and tempura on the carpeted floors of Tokyo multiplexes. Among Japan's pantheon of ultra-violent directors, he is notable for being always ready to address the issue of his own sadism. Ever film he makes is like an expansion of Hitchcock's shower scene, forcibly accusing us of being sadists at the same time as he delivers great images of cinematic violence. More than the social commentary, which is confusing and likely uncertain, the most interesting philosophical study in IZO is Miike's self-examination of his own lust for violence, as well as the main character's and the audience's. Is Izo so brutal because he is inhuman, or because he is too human?

You may not get anything from straining at this befuddled movie, but it is still enjoyable and provoking, if not gut-wrenching, experimental cinema. Any violent philosophical essay that features long shots of a folk singer playing guitar and screaming ballads is worth a look. IZO has elements of Kafka, Lewis Carrol, Terry Gilliam, and Seijun Suzuki, but it is undeniably Takeshi Miike.

You can call Miike sadistic. You can call him demented or depraved. Just don't forget to call him an artist.