As you can probably gather from the title, Full Metal Yakuza (1997) is one of director Takashi Miike's most polarising and defiantly idiosyncratic works. Essentially a straight to video project - produced at a time when the market for straight to video pictures in Japan was at its most financially successful - the film imaginatively blends together elements of the director's more iconic and eclectic Yakuza genre films, such as Osaka Tough Guys (1995) and Fudoh: The New Generation (1996), with elements of Paul Verhoeven's classic American science-fiction satire, Robocop (1987). As with the majority of Japanese V-cinema, Full Metal Yakuza offered Miike creative free reign; with explicit, over-the-top bloodshed and sexual violence interspersed with moments of black comedy, pathos, and continual references to old Hollywood monster movies, such as Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll. All of this is naturally delivered on a minuscule budget that seemingly left little room for convincing make-up effects, or indeed, CGI.
Harsher critics of the film often cite such budgetary restrictions - as well as the absurd, almost farcical nature of the plot - as the defining factors for this films supposed failure and its irrelevance within the context of Miike's career. However, supporters of the film, such as myself and other such online admirers, tend to enjoy the film for these very same reasons; with the limited budget and obvious lo-fi quality of the effects adding to the overall enjoyment; with the film managing to encapsulate the very best qualities of low-budget film-making such as boldness, originality and imagination.
However, having said that, this is very much a film of three distinct parts, and the enjoyment of each specific segment will obviously depend heavily upon the individual taste of the viewer. The first part is probably the easiest to appreciate, as it is the most dramatic of the three and the more focused, with none of the tongue-in-cheek humour or references to cult sci-fi cinema that will appear later. In some respects it brings to mind some of Miike's more routine, run-of-the-mill Yakuza/crime pictures, such as the aforementioned Osaka Tough Guys and the great Young Thugs: Nostalgia (1998), as well as somewhat pre-empting the style and tone of later films like Rainy Dog (1997), Ley Lines (1999) and Agitator (2001). As with Robocop itself, this first segment illustrates the rise and eventual fall of the central character (in this case, an inept Yakuza underling), as he attempts to protect his boss and mentor from a fatal double-cross carried out by his own men in conjunction with a rival gang. Its perhaps the most successful part of the film for most viewers as it features no low-tech special effects or attempts at obvious shock-value; instead, drawing us in through the characters and the strong performances from the likes of Tsuyoshi Ujiki, Takeshi Caesar and Koji Tsukamoto. The second half of the film is the more comical; referencing Frankenstein and the much alluded to Robocop, as a crazed scientist (played by Shinya Tsukamoto regular Tomorowo Taguchi) rebuilds our hero as a super-sleek cyborg, replete with a massively exaggerated penis! In this segment, Tsuyoshi must come to terms with his fate, as well as coming to terms with his new (and improved?) body; building up his strength, shooting skills and fighting ability in a hilarious montage, before going off to claim bloody revenge in the name of his slain master!
Sub-textually, the appearance of Taguchi as the central creative figure of this "full metal yakuza" is interesting, in the sense that the film presents a similar thematic and philosophical ideology to that of Shinya Tsukamoto's cult classic, Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1988); in which a mild-mannered Tokyo salary-man finds himself inexplicably turning into a mass of wires, metal and steel (and must eventually struggle with the inevitably disturbing consequences)! The similarity is further stressed by the casting of Koji Tsukamoto, Shinya's younger brother. Obviously, Full Metal Yakuza presents these themes in a way that is completely different to Tsukamoto's dark, expressionistic art-drama; but clearly, the parallels are there and are exploited by Miike in a clear attempt to give a greater sense of meaning to the drama between satisfying his own more subversive impulses as a grand provocateur.
The third part of the film is more interesting but also at odds with the more outré sequences of violence and revenge; reminding me of some of the more thoughtful and tender moments of films like Rainy Dog, The Bird People of China (1998) and Dead or Alive 2: Birds (2000). It also ties this film in with certain images and ideas presented in the later film, Dead or Alive: Final (2002), which also features a cyborg character struggling with the more humane intricacies of their existence in a slow and hypnotic, almost Takeshi Kitano inspired moment of surreal, seaside tranquillity.
This particular segment of the film - bookended by scenes of rampaging revenge - is really the heart and soul of the story, and seems to be a conscious move on Miike's part to instil this very warped, very silly little pastiche shocker with a genuine sense of character; opening up further avenues of interpretation or simply giving us a brief moment to reflect on the violence and bloodshed that will continue through to the closing moments? Full Metal Yakuza definitely isn't "classic Miike", with the three disparate acts failing to make a fully consistent whole (feeling at times like three completely different films edited together), but it is certainly entertaining; filled to the brim with moments of humour, action, thought and disgust, as well as a whole host of imaginative and inspired sight-gags and set-pieces. As you would expect from any film by Takashi Miike, there are a number of fairly shocking images presented for laughs, including rape, necrophilia, dismemberment, torture and death, as well as an incredibly bizarre ending, which - when viewed within the context of the first forty-minutes - seems to belong to an entirely different film!
Harsher critics of the film often cite such budgetary restrictions - as well as the absurd, almost farcical nature of the plot - as the defining factors for this films supposed failure and its irrelevance within the context of Miike's career. However, supporters of the film, such as myself and other such online admirers, tend to enjoy the film for these very same reasons; with the limited budget and obvious lo-fi quality of the effects adding to the overall enjoyment; with the film managing to encapsulate the very best qualities of low-budget film-making such as boldness, originality and imagination.
However, having said that, this is very much a film of three distinct parts, and the enjoyment of each specific segment will obviously depend heavily upon the individual taste of the viewer. The first part is probably the easiest to appreciate, as it is the most dramatic of the three and the more focused, with none of the tongue-in-cheek humour or references to cult sci-fi cinema that will appear later. In some respects it brings to mind some of Miike's more routine, run-of-the-mill Yakuza/crime pictures, such as the aforementioned Osaka Tough Guys and the great Young Thugs: Nostalgia (1998), as well as somewhat pre-empting the style and tone of later films like Rainy Dog (1997), Ley Lines (1999) and Agitator (2001). As with Robocop itself, this first segment illustrates the rise and eventual fall of the central character (in this case, an inept Yakuza underling), as he attempts to protect his boss and mentor from a fatal double-cross carried out by his own men in conjunction with a rival gang. Its perhaps the most successful part of the film for most viewers as it features no low-tech special effects or attempts at obvious shock-value; instead, drawing us in through the characters and the strong performances from the likes of Tsuyoshi Ujiki, Takeshi Caesar and Koji Tsukamoto. The second half of the film is the more comical; referencing Frankenstein and the much alluded to Robocop, as a crazed scientist (played by Shinya Tsukamoto regular Tomorowo Taguchi) rebuilds our hero as a super-sleek cyborg, replete with a massively exaggerated penis! In this segment, Tsuyoshi must come to terms with his fate, as well as coming to terms with his new (and improved?) body; building up his strength, shooting skills and fighting ability in a hilarious montage, before going off to claim bloody revenge in the name of his slain master!
Sub-textually, the appearance of Taguchi as the central creative figure of this "full metal yakuza" is interesting, in the sense that the film presents a similar thematic and philosophical ideology to that of Shinya Tsukamoto's cult classic, Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1988); in which a mild-mannered Tokyo salary-man finds himself inexplicably turning into a mass of wires, metal and steel (and must eventually struggle with the inevitably disturbing consequences)! The similarity is further stressed by the casting of Koji Tsukamoto, Shinya's younger brother. Obviously, Full Metal Yakuza presents these themes in a way that is completely different to Tsukamoto's dark, expressionistic art-drama; but clearly, the parallels are there and are exploited by Miike in a clear attempt to give a greater sense of meaning to the drama between satisfying his own more subversive impulses as a grand provocateur.
The third part of the film is more interesting but also at odds with the more outré sequences of violence and revenge; reminding me of some of the more thoughtful and tender moments of films like Rainy Dog, The Bird People of China (1998) and Dead or Alive 2: Birds (2000). It also ties this film in with certain images and ideas presented in the later film, Dead or Alive: Final (2002), which also features a cyborg character struggling with the more humane intricacies of their existence in a slow and hypnotic, almost Takeshi Kitano inspired moment of surreal, seaside tranquillity.
This particular segment of the film - bookended by scenes of rampaging revenge - is really the heart and soul of the story, and seems to be a conscious move on Miike's part to instil this very warped, very silly little pastiche shocker with a genuine sense of character; opening up further avenues of interpretation or simply giving us a brief moment to reflect on the violence and bloodshed that will continue through to the closing moments? Full Metal Yakuza definitely isn't "classic Miike", with the three disparate acts failing to make a fully consistent whole (feeling at times like three completely different films edited together), but it is certainly entertaining; filled to the brim with moments of humour, action, thought and disgust, as well as a whole host of imaginative and inspired sight-gags and set-pieces. As you would expect from any film by Takashi Miike, there are a number of fairly shocking images presented for laughs, including rape, necrophilia, dismemberment, torture and death, as well as an incredibly bizarre ending, which - when viewed within the context of the first forty-minutes - seems to belong to an entirely different film!