Matt Cooper Films

Burst City (1982) by Sogo Ishii

A wild joyride through the heart of the punk subculture of the early 1980’s, “Burst City” offers a snapshot of the rebellious spirit of a generation. The film revolves around a number of punk gangs and their struggles against the police, each other, and the development of a new nuclear power plant. Every night these leather-clad young men and women gather to rock out to punk bands, take drugs and drag race. Meanwhile, two vigilantes on a motorbike and side-car, drive around looking for revenge for an earlier murder; and a man pimps out a young woman to wealthy businessmen.

“Burst City” plunges us into the heart of the riotous, chaotic heart of the punk movement, capturing and embodying the essence of anarchism, youthful exuberance, violence, and excess that typified it. The plot, such as it is, takes a back seat to a montage of exciting moments, whether it is people engaging in racing their tooled-up cars or the musical performances of several popular punk bands such as The Roosters, The Rockers, and The Stalin. It feels at times much more like a documentary than a film, a collage of characters and scenes that come together to present a complete picture of the period. Sogo Ishii’s direction embraces the spirit of the punk subculture, with a dizzyingly active camera often fighting its way through the action, flashing lights, speeded up footage, and raw energy and creativity mirroring the energy of the subjects. The punk aesthetic exudes from every frame and the rough way the plot and scenes hang together only adds to its charm. The music provided by the punk bands involved also offers a raucous, passionate rage to the film.

As a cultural documentary, “Burst City” offers us a look at a startling and era-defining time. Anti-authoritarian youth sub-cultures found their most strident voices in the punk movement. The shadow of Hiroshima and Nagasaki still hung over post-war Japan, morphing into the activism against nuclear power and nuclear weapons through subsequent decades. Ishii’s film does not delve too deeply into the values and politics of its protagonists. Though we see them fighting with the power plant developers and the police, this seems to be largely down to them being seen as natural enemies, rather than an in-depth discussion of the rights and wrongs of their position. In one amusing scene we see a group of punks asking each other what day it is and what they should be doing, their supreme goal to bring down the goverment and authority forgotten in a haze of alcohol and fatigue from nightly revels. The film seems to both promote their values, while also criticizing their lack of meaningful contribution to society. Likewise, we see this moral ambiguity in the treatment of women. While the young woman forced into prostitution is raped and abused by the businessmen. her horrifying ordeal stands in stark contrast to the mixed-sex congregations of the punk band audiences, and the genderfluidity of their fashion and make-up choices. We also see the drug use affecting the scene, with people lost to the needle, while others enjoy more harmless pursuits. The punk scene is shown as one full of contradictions, with violence and agression sitting alongisde youthful joie de vivre and a search for fun and community. If you want to understand what the punk movement was about and what it meant to those who lived through it, this film offers a warts-and-all portrayal of the scene.

Matt Cooper Films

964 Pinnochio (1991) by Shozin Fukui

A nightmarish near-future cyberpunk with a heady mix of sex and violence. An underground organization throw out one of the sex slaves they have created due to his inability to perform. Stripped of his memory, ability to communicate, and any sense of purpose, this man (Haji Suzuki) wanders aimless until he is picked up by a young woman, Himiko (Onn-chan). She is creating maps of the city for those who have lost their memories to allow people to live without their memories. Himiko takes in this unfortunate creation, whom she names Pinnochio (964 being a reference to his product number). Realising that Pinnochio is not dead as they had expected, those who created him set out to recover their product. Meanwhile, Himiko and Pinnochio both seem to be experiencing psychotic episodes as their realities collapse into a twisted maelstrom of torture.

Written and directed by Shozin Fukui, “964 Pinnochio” is a work that draws on horror, surreal arthouse moments, and earlier science-fiction tropes. Naming the creation Pinnochio is no coincidence as this is a man who has been cut loose from his narrowly defined role and left to find his own way. He is also reminiscent of Frankenstein’s monster as an abominable creation who nevertheless has some semblance of spirit that is trying to find release from his bodily prison. A fantastic example of the cyberpunk genre, with strobe lighting, stop motion, speeded up footage and extreme close-ups provoking that physical response that the best horror does. The film seems intent on making the audience squirm, with an extended sequence of vomiting, gory closeups that blur the line between eroticism and horror, and moments such as a character drooling into a bowl of cherries, all intended to cause revulsion. The film’s contemporary or near future setting, with little to visually distinguish it as in any way technologically advanced, nevertheless does a great job of making the familiar unfamiliar. The backdrop of industrial decay, bleak urban landscapes of concrete and smoke, creates an oppressive atmosphere that draws out the themes of dehumanisation. The sound design of buzzing strip lights and the hollow echo of these cold spaces similarly creates a feeling of anxiety and isolation; of the living characters being trapped in a world of uncaring technology and the slow yet inevitable entropy around them. The film will not be for everyone and while there is a lot to recommend it there are certainly moments that drag it down. Several scenes go on far longer than is necessary to get the point across. In particular the vomiting and a running sequence near the end of the film feel overlong. There is also a subplot involving an employee of the company adopting a child, and later kidnapping a young girl. This is given little time in the film and seems like an idea that would have been interesting to develop, in relation to Himiko and Pinnochio’s relationship, and ideas of care and control.

The film is rough around the edges which adds to its charm. The central story of a creation being cast out and finding out about itself and the world is a solid hook on which to hang the outrageous and provocative creativity of the director. While “964 Pinnochio” is full of shocking moments, this poignant journey of the protagonist is enough to keep the audience engaged and rooting for him. There is an interesting detail later in the film with Pinnochio chained to a large pyramidal object, perhaps representing something like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and his search for self-actualisation above and beyond the base function of his programming; it also may be a metaphor for the psychological burden that he is dragging around with him. The scene in the scrapyard between Himiko and Pinnochio is an evocative moment, with the two characters literally thrown out from normal society. Like all good cyberpunk “964 Pinnochio” champions the underdog, the dregs of society, the apparently worthless and unloved. A prime example of the cyberpunk genre that hauls you through hell to deliver a deeper message on human suffering and the treatment of the lowest in society.

Matt Cooper Anime, Films

Appleseed Saga: Ex Machina (2007) by Shinji Aramaki

Deunan Knute (Ai Kobayashi) and her partner Briareos (Koichi Yamadera) are assigned with ESWAT to an old cathedral to rescue EU officials taken hostage by cyborgs. On returning to Olympus Briareos is sent to recuperate while Deunan is assigned a new partner. Her new partner, Tereus (Yuki Kishi), seems strangely similar to Briareos old physical form, and Deunan learns that he has been cloned from her former partner’s DNA. Olympus is once again imperilled when they discover a mysterious signal being used to control both cyborgs and humans (who have taken to wearing a popular headset communication device). It is this signal that is prompting the increasing waves of terrorist activity. Meanwhile, Athena (Gara Takashima) is attempting to convince world leaders that they should join together a global satellite network that might prevent future terrorist attacks.

Shinji Aramaki directs this sequel to his 2004 “Appleseed” film. This time around we get more focus on the relationship between Deunan and Briareos and the introduction of what might be considered an atypical love triangle with the introduction of Tereus. The plot is focussed on an external threat to Olympus and therefore more familiar territory to action movies. Again the film provides us with a thinly veiled commentary on everything from terrorism, consumerism, surveillance, and communication technologies with a story that moves briskly between several incredible action sequences. The animation style is altered slightly from the first film, with less of a cell-shaded appearance to the characters. It is interesting to see the development and introduction of several new technologies, such as the bee-like flying transports early on and the Connexus devices that satirise people’s addiction to mobile communication tools. Tetsuya Takahashi again provides the music, this time alongside Haruomi Hosono. While the techo-beats and electro-rock are carried over there are also more of the softer moments and a heroic score to complement the narrative of our protagonists fighting against attempts to destroy Olympus.

“Appleseed: Ex Machina” raises interesting questions about the need for difference. Unity is something that many in society strive for, here exemplified by the idea of bringing together the world’s satellites into one system. However, when large numbers of cyborgs and people are following the commands of a single source we also see the dangers of unity (or perhaps more accurately “conformity”). We see the zombie-like citizen completely under the control of the mysterious force. It is good to see a film tackling such fundamental questions as what a Utopian society should or might look like while criticising what many consider to be an ideal.

Matt Cooper Anime, Films

Appleseed (2004) by Shinji Aramaki

The film opens on a young soldier Deunan Knute (Ai Kobayashi), fighting amongst the rubble of a bombed city. After a battle with robotic enemy forces she is picked up by ESWAT, an elite team of soldiers, who tell her she no longer needs to fight. The world war that has devastated the majority of the planet had no ultimate victor. The surviving humans have retreated to a Utopian city named Olympus. The population of Olympus, half human and half Bioroid (synthetic humans), live a peaceful existence, their lives dictated by a supercomputer named Gaia and the Bioroid leader Athena (Mami Koyama). Deunan is reunited with her old partner Briareos (Jurota Kosugi), who has lost his body and been given a new cyborg one and a Bioroid Hitomi (Yuki Matsuoka) who is assigned to help her adjust to Olympus. The peace is short-lived when they uncover a plot by the army, led by General Uranus (Yuzuru Fujimoto), to overthrow what he sees as a Bioroid dictatorship and establish human supremacy again. Deunan and Briareos must fight to maintain the delicate balance that has been established.

“Appleseed” is based on the manga by Masamune Shirow (Ghost in the Shell) and does an incredible job of world-building, introducing us to Bioroids, Gaia, ESWAT, Landmates and other technologies and systems that create a believable backdrop to the action. The design of all these elements is spectacular and there is clearly an attention to the minutiae and practicalities of everything. The animation uses a cell-shaded CG technique that gives the film a unique look and the flexibility of the camera allows us to swoop around the ruins of the city in the opening and the vast scale of Olympus in a way that gives a sense of reality and permanence to the setting. If there is one issue with this style it is that it leaves certain things looking too pristine, lacking texture and wear. Where the animation really excels is in the action sequences, from the opening battle with tanks and snipers, hand to hand brawls, gunfighting, and the final destructive battle, the choreography and camerawork enabled by the animation make for fast-paced exciting moments. Director Shinji Aramaki has an eye for dramatic action sequences, with the rain-battered remote laboratory sequences being a particular highlight. The music by Tetsuya Takahashi and Boom Boom Satellites is a mix of electronica, rock, and an occasional emotional piano track. The soundtrack suits the futuristic feel and is a shot of adrenaline for the frenetic action scenes. Deunan is a great protagonist, established as a legendary soldier, her relationship with Briareos and her backstory give her complexity and sympathy from the audience. There is not a lot of time spent on the relationship between her and Briareos as the plot involves a lot of exposition and the various twists and turns allow little time for character building, but those moments we do see work well and offer just enough to keep you emotionally invested.

“Appleseed” is laden with philosophical and political discourse, questioning the future of humanity as we become increasingly reliant on technology. The character of Deunan, a hardened soldier, is fitting for the narrative as she encapsulates the warlike nature of humanity, but also the compassion that can hold us back from violence. The tension at the centre of the film arises from General Uranus’s realisation that humans are no longer the dominant force on the planet and his desire to rectify what he sees as the natural order. Violent tendencies make humans unsuitable to rule without safeguards, as their past actions have shown that they seem hellbent on their own destruction. Far from technology being the danger, it is technology that protects humans from themselves. However, the lust for power and human failings continue even in the future and create problems that must be constantly guarded against. The film’s message is one of the importance of balance. It is interesting that early in the film Hitomi notes that the population of Olympus is roughly 50/50 Bioroid and humans. To have more of one or the other, as the villains of the film desire, would upset the balance of society. The strong anti-war message of the film is also stated obliquely in a similar way. The world war produced no victor, only losers. To compete for absolute dominance is a futile endeavour, and the only way humanity can proceed is by acknowledging the need for co-operation. A science-fiction action film with an important message on the future of humanity and how catastrophe might be averted.

Matt Cooper Films

Electric Dragon 80,000 V (2001) by Sogo Ishii

A blend of cyberpunk and superhero movie, “Electric Dragon 80,000 V” follows Dragon Eye Morrison (Tadanobu Asano), a guitar-playing, reptile loving man with an unusual talent: following electro-shock therapy for violent behaviour as a child, Morrison is now able to conduct electricity, and refocus its energy. City lights flicker as he saps the power from around him. He has a job as an animal detective, looking for reptiles, in particular an iguana that has gone missing. He also plays guitar, able to focus his chaotic abilities into music. Things turn nasty when another man with electric powers, Thunderbolt Buddha (Masatoshi Nagase), appears on the scene; with an unspecified vendetta against Morrison he will go to any lengths to ensure a highly-charged showdown with our hero.

“Electric Dragon 80,000 v” is a tongue-in-cheek cyberpunk superhero story. It strips away philosophical concerns regarding humanity’s future and their place in the universe, evolution  and the coming machine world or digital singularity. Instead it plays with many of the tropes of the genre in an entertaining way. The plot is wafer thin, essentially the build-up of two challengers culminating in a final glorious showdown, but at under an hour in length the premise does not have time to outstay it’s welcome. Everything in the film revolves either around Morrison or Thunderbolt, there are no subplots or side-characters to distract from the frenetic energy and punk style. Tadanobu Asano and Masatoshi Nagase give great performances. Although there is little dialogue shared between them for the majority, they embrace the wild, raucous tone of the film.

 Shot in black and white, with high contrast between the flashing lights of the city and the dark shadows, the film has a sleek aesthetic while also capturing the chaos of a world overrun with pylons, cables, and urban sprawl. The story’s comic book feel, with a hero and villain narrative, is heightened by the use of narration, flashes of electric-style font, and close-ups or cutaway inserts. Cyberpunk has always been a genre in which directors can show off their skills, and here is no different. Sogo Ishii uses everything from speeded up sequences, overlays, digital and practical effects, and shots from almost every angle to establish a tone that grips the audience from the beginning with its frenzied energy. The rock-metal soundtrack by Ishii’s group MACH-1.67 does a superb job of conveying a sense of pent-up aggression and the surging electric currents that symbolise it.

At times the film feels like a simple homage to earlier cyberpunk works, using many of the same techniques and even borrowing more than a few ideas, such as the machine-man duality and the idea that technology, in this case electricity is both a great and terrible force. However, the film rarely labours these themes, presenting them visually without the need for further explanation, perhaps in understanding that they are well worn ideas. It simplifies its message to the point that it stands as both an prime example and celebration of many things the movement as a whole tries to convey. The idea that Morrison was a troubled youth and given electro-shock therapy harks back to notions of government control, rebellious youth and the limits of personal freedom; while the concept of electricity coursing through his veins represents themes of potential, either for good or bad. Morrison directs his energy towards playing guitar, while Thunderbolt uses his powers for evil. This dichotomy is starkly drawn here and the film builds up both characters and their final confrontation in an entertaining way. Morrison’s love for animals, alongside his love of music, also shows he has a connection to the physical world unlike his counterpart who appears to be allowing the machine to take over.