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Reviewed by Matthew Hardstaff
When Kinji Fukasaku died, I can’t imagine it was an easy transition for Kenta Fukasaku from writer to director. Sure he’d written "Battle Royale", and the sequel which he ended up directing, but it was apparent that guided by his father’s hand, Kenta’s words where shaped into brutally subtle brilliance, and when guided by his own, his words where blunt instruments, swinging wild, like a feral beast. "Battle Royale" was both beautiful and disturbing, often at the same time. "Battle Royale 2" was melodramatic and incredibly heavy-handed. Kenta’s follow up films further confirmed that he wasn’t even half the director his father was. Really, the comparison isn’t fair. His father was a colossal cinematic figure, who changed the face of Japanese film. How can you really try and compare to a man whose life was so consumed by film that even when dying of cancer, he pushed forward, focused and completely undeterred. Somewhere after his third film however, Kenta must have found his voice, or got his grove on, because it seems he finally figured out how to make a good film.
Shiyori (pianist Nao Matsushita) is staying at an isolated mountain resort with her best friend Aiko (pop star Ami Suzuki). Sure the people that run the resort are a little weird, in a backwoods, "Deliverance" kind of way, and sure the road to the resort was dotted with bizarre looking, crucified scarecrows, but the resort itself is. However the peaceful retreat is suddenly disturbed when a mysterious phone rings. Shiyori tracks it down to the closet in her bedroom and quickly answers. “Get out of there! They’ll cut off your legs!” Unsure of who she is talking to and who they are referring to, Shiyori is unsure how to respond. That is until a series of bangs start rattling the front door, and a mob of torch wielding folk start hunting her down. Then in an instant, we are hurtled back in time, and find ourselves watching Shiyori and Aiko on their way to the resort, discussing Shiyori’s recent break-up with her boyfriend. From that point on, using cell phones as a brilliant narrative device, we jump back and forth in time, switching from Shiyori’s perspective to Aiko’s perspective, sometimes viewing the same scene several times over, as we are thrown into a completely unpredictable nightmare.
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Read more by Matthew Hardstaff at his blog.
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