Matt Cooper Films

Gonin (1995) by Takashi Ishii

Five men attempt to escape the brutal vengeance of the Yakuza after stealing 100 million yen from them. Club owner Bandai (Koichi Sato) is in debt to the Yakuza who come to his club to harrass him. He recruits knife-weidling fraudster Mitsuya (Masahiro Motoki), ex-detective Hizu (Jinpachi Nezu), violent tearaway Jimmy (Kippei Shiina), and an unemployed salaryman (Naoto Takenaka), all of whom either have monetary worries or a vendetta against the Yakuza, in a daring raid on the offices of the group. Following their heist, the Yakuza hire two hitmen, played by Takeshi Kitano and Kazuya Kimura, to find the men responsible.

Written and directed by Takashi Ishii, “Gonin” is a stylish crime thriller with a great cast of central characters. The slight backstories give us enough to sympathise with them, through their planned robbery and the merciless hunting of them that follows. This group of anti-heroes all have their own peculiarities and the film lets us see the psychological turmoil they are going through. The early part of the film takes its time to establish their circumstances, which makes the final third even more thrilling as we watch their attempts to escape the hitmen that have been assigned to kill them. The film’s oppressive noir atmosphere is perfectly encapsulated in the various night-scenes and shootouts in the pouring rain. This is a world that is awash with violence, drugs, avaricious mobsters, and brutal repercussions and the superb score by Goro Yasukawa underlines the tensions and tragedy of those involved.

“Gonin” presents the image of a deeply depressing world, where no deed goes unpunished. The senseless violence drives home the point that any involvement with the criminal underworld is likely to end poorly, whatever your intentions. Violence begets violence and the cycle continues. The film also forefronts homosexuality, with both the protagonists and antagonists, which nods to the idea that heroes and villains are distinguished only by their actions. The final shot of the film also highlights this duality in man and we are left to wonder what will become of a world in which violence is permitted to flourish.

Matt Cooper Films

A Stray Crow Samurai (2025) by Tomohiko Yamashita

In 1666, a young boy, Jiro (Fuju Kamio), witnesses his uncle (Kippei Shiina) massacre his entire family and household. Fleeing from their village, Jiro returns 14 years later seeking revenge and answers from his relative. When he returns he finds his uncle has become the ‘Stray Crow’ of the title, dressed humbly he spends his time helping the common folk with daily chores. Aided by a shogunate spy, and local inspector Maehara (Soko Wada) who also bears a grudge against Jiro’s uncle, he attempts to enact his revenge. Jiro is also helped by a young woman, Eri (Chihiro Yamamoto), who is one of the town’s most impressive swordfighters.

Adapted from the novel by Ryo Akagami, “Stray Crow” leans into melodrama, with the opening sequence seeing a violent skirmish amongst a thunderstorm before the house is set on fire, and young Jiro fleeing through the rain with the flames roaring behind him. The film is strongly plotted, but the sets feel lifeless and Tomohiko Yamashita’s direction uninspired. There is a sense of theatricality, as though the characters are walking through a samurai-era themepark rather than truly inhabiting this world. The final twist in the tale also begs a number of questions, leading to a rather underwhelming finale.

The central mystery of Jiro’s uncle’s actions is resolved later in the film as a ruse to distract the authorities from a more dangerous truth: that the town has a large secret Christian population. It presents a moral quandary for Jiro, whose uncle murders dozens of people in order to protect many more. While Jiro comes to understand the reasoning of his uncle, viewers may find this logic hard to follow. “Stray Crow” sets up a thrilling revenge tale only to deny you the final moment of catharsis in favour of something more nuanced: coming to terms with the justified actions of a perceived enemy. This underwhelming ending sadly leaves the film without a strong conclusion, failing to deliver on the promise of thrilling action from the opening.

Matt Cooper Films

Reincarnation (2005) by Takashi Shimizu

Nagisa Sugiura (Yuka) is auditioning for a role in a film adaptation of a real-life murder story. Many years before a man killed eleven people at a hotel in Gunma, including his own son and daughter. Nagisa is cast to play the young 10-year old daughter who was murdered, but things soon take a sinister turn when she begins to see visions of this girl and starts to wonder if there is something supernatural going on. Another actress, Yuka (Marika Matsumoto), a firm believer in reincarnation tells her this could be a possible explanation, something hinted at throughout. As work begins on the film the director Matsumura (Kippei Shiina) takes the cast and crew to the hotel where this horrific incident took place and Nagisa begins to spiral into a nightmare somewhere between memory and hallucination.

Directed by Takashi Shimizu (The Grudge, Marebito) from a screenplay by Shimizu and Masaki Adachi. “Reincarnation” is a chilling experience, mixing a haunted hotel mystery with psychological horror. By setting up the film within a film, the writers create doubt about what is going on that continues until the final moments. We are never sure how much of what we are seeing is real, or whether Nagisa is hallucinating. This sense of unease is pervasive, particularly later in the film, as it is not only the characters but the audience themselves whose sense of reality is being toyed with. Whereas many horror films offer an easy escape, the villain of this piece is not easily identifiable, and so impossible to counter. This sense of an unstable reality is heightened with great use of practical effects, such as the appearance of the young girl who was murdered at various moments. The editing also plays with the sense of space, by having the camera move from the real world of Nagisa, into her imagination, through the memories and old footage of the incident, and the constructed set of the film. This perfectly captures her increasingly warped psyche as she tries to establish what is happening to her. The music by Kenji Kawai (Dark Water) creates a dark atmosphere with echoing strings and synth providing an ominous backdrop to the action. The use of creaks and knocks and later the whirring of an old-fashioned camera help to build a soundscape that is terrifying without the need for bombast. The film builds a quiet dread throughout, rarely relying on gore or shock moments, but a creeping terror that draws you in and has you on the edge of your seat. The simplest of effects are done with finesse, such as the child’s doll that comes to life, or the sudden traumatic flashes of murder victims that assault Nagisa when they visit the hotel. Much of this imagery gets under the skin and troubles you long after it has passed, creating that feeling of an ineffable darkness waiting beyond this world. The terror of the unknown is brought to the fore. There are moments that don’t make strict logical sense, such as Nagisa’s casting as a 10-year old girl. However, this matters very little in the overall scheme of things, as we get the full psychological and emotional weight of what Nagisa is going through in a way that may have been diluted if everything was neatly explained. Yuka gives a great performance as the haunted and terrified Nagisa, capturing her descent into fear and panic as she struggles to untangle the strange web of unfamiliar memories she is caught in.

“Reincarnation” relies on familiar tropes, such as restless spirits and revenge, but does everything so well that it is a model of how these stories should be told. The idea of ghosts returning to life to seek vengeance plays on the primal fear of the unknown. Death is the great boundary that people can only cross in one direction and the thought that there may be two-way traffic is disturbing. It also ties into notions of guilt and shame about tragic events that have happened and the inability of people to change them. Nagisa is deeply troubled by the events of the past. We also witness her feelings being dismissed or disbelieved by those around her, again offering a deeper layer of horror to events. Not only is she beginning to lose any solid foundation for her reality, she increasingly has nobody to turn to for reassurance. “Reincarnation” is an excellent example of a film with great scares born of the concept and characters, truly terrifying in parts, with a dark twist.

Matt Cooper Films

The Forest of Love (2019) by Sion Sono

Sion Sono is well-known for his subversive genre work, with gruesome body horror, nihilistic punk philosophy and black humour. “The Forest of Love” is a prime example of his oevre. In the same vein as “Cold Fish”, which took for inspiration a series of horrific murders, “The Forest of Love” also begins with an note that this is “Based on a True Story”, though as things progress that statement becomes harder and harder to believe. The case on which it is based is one of depraved sadism, abuse, and torture. Sono’s film manages to capture the despicable nature of the crimes, but also throws in many elements of his own creation in a bizarre blend of satire and bloody crime drama. The film begins with a young man, Shin (Shinnosuke Mitsushima), recently arrived in Tokyo meeting up with two film fanatics, Jay (Young Dais) and Fukami (Dai Hasegawa), who dream of entering the Pia Film Festival and becoming great directors. The three soon begin working together and meet up with Taeko (Kyoko Hinami), who introduces them to Mitsuko (Eri Kamataki). Taeko and Mitsuko are erstwhile high-school friends who drifted apart after one of their classmates died in tragic circumstances. Mitsuko is approached by a man, Joe Murata (Kippei Shiina), who claims to want to return a 50 yen coin to her, but it soon becomes obvious that he is a dangerous conman. Everyone Murata comes into contact with seems to get drawn into his orbit, despite being a completely despicable human being. The three young men decide he would make an excellent subject for their film, believing him to be responsible for several murders that have occurred recently. The truth is far more shocking as he subjects them and the women to a series of sadistic games, fleeces them of their money, and drags them into a hellish world of torture and killing, seemingly with little reason.

Kippei Shiina plays Murata with a sickening relish as a completely amoral human who cares for nobody but himself. His charisma is skin deep and his egocentric sadism is hard to stomach. His psychopathy is succinctly summarised by him in the opening scene when he describes the act of killing as akin to losing your virginity, something that once it is done it provokes no great change, it is simply a meaningless transition to becoming a murderer. Kyoko Hinami is perhaps the standout performance and the character of Taeko is the emotional heart of the drama. Her behaviour is often incomprehensible, but she seems self-aware enough to finally realise the horror of her situation. “The Forest of Love” is a film that seems determined to provoke a reaction, whether that is laughter or revulsion, which it does numerous times. Sono knows how to play the audience, confounding them with sudden shifts in tone and style that play alongside the warped characters to create a disorienting experience. The scene where Murata breaks out a mini piano to serenade his girlfriend’s parents is one such scene that is completely ridiculous and seems to come straight from a musical comedy, not something you would expect in a film that also features sado-masochistic electrocution and dismembered corpses. Another prime example is when two characters are frolicking with a hose as they wash down a room that has just been used to cut up a murder victim.

“The Forest of Love” may be a little overlong, a bizarre work that shows a creative mind throwing everything he has at it and hoping some of it works. For the most part it does, although many moments will be familiar to those who have seen “Cold Fish”, “Strange Circus”, “Love/ Exposure”, “Suicide Club” and other examples of Sono’s more extreme filmography.

The characters of Shin, Fukami and Jay, creations of Sono’s who almost feels like they have stumbled into this crime story from another film, are a clear reminder that the film should be seen as a commentary on events and society rather than a straightforward retelling of a true crime drama. They are fascinated by the crimes of Murata, going so far as to become directly involved in them. In what is perhaps a self-referential moment, Jay explains that he loves film because you can do anything you want, including travelling the world having sex and killing people. Jay can be seen as Sono inserting himself into the film to comment on the fascination people have with abhorrent behaviour. As for the crimes, the film offers very little in the way of an explanation, outside of Murata being a manipulative person who is able to convince others to join him. It does however create a visceral sense of dread and revulsion for the crimes and the way people are treated by him.

This is definitely worth a watch if you are a fan of Sion Sono’s extreme films. There are many moments that will make you squirm, laugh or want to turn away in disgust. Sono may be re-treading familiar themes and ideas but the quality and shock value are no less than in those earlier works.