Profondo Rosa

Maniac Driver (Kurando Mitsutake, 2020)

Whenenver a modern film cites itself as a "giallo" or "neo-giallo", more often than not, it's anything but one. These loose descriptive terms tend to apply to a colourful visual style which was prominent during the heyday of Italian thrillers. The structures and conventions of the giallo are often missing when throwback films started becoming the vogue from the late 2000s. Therefore, it's no surprise whenever cinephiles with a deep misconception of what the genre is spew mistaken precoceptions of what the genre consists of. Hence, it comes as no surprise when a film parody like The Editor (2014) mocks the giallo and reveals little comprehension of it, or awful click-bait lists by the BFI on great neo-gialli which comes across as rather ignorant.

Kurando Mitsutake's genre mash-up Maniac Driver (2020), which touts itself as a giallo, is a valiant stab at it, event though it's prominently inspired by both William Lustig's Maniac (1980) and Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver (1976). Those films are anything but gialli. Originally intended as a pinku-eiga film, Mitsutake opted for Argento-esque eye candy to go with the allure of Japanese AV actresses getting they're kit off. The end result is a film which consists of lurid, softcore sex scenes and technicolour Italian splatter. Personally, this pushes the right buttons for film degenerate like myself. That's due to it capturing the salacious exploitation and mean spiritism which was evident in various gialli and slashers from yesteryear. Factors which at the very least, bring a certain degree of autheticity when compared to the revisionist and venomless, retro throwbacks we've experienced in the 21st century. The inspiration just doesn't stop there, you can spot the obvious references to Lucio Fulci's gut vomiting scene from City of the Living Dead (1980), along with obvious homages to Taxi Driver.

Perhaps the biggest fault the film suffers from are the undercooked sub-plots. I wouldn't have known about Iori Kagawa, the film's heroine, having a boyfriend betraying her to some weird cult until Mitsutake mentioned it on the film's audio commentary. Having said that, I did enjoy the character study of the film lead are a bunch misanthropic, philosophical ramblings narrated by Tomoki Kimura, the film's lead, which smacks of nietzschean style humdingers like this:

"We like to be tied down and stripped of our freedom. Maybe this is the reason why we gravitate toward populists and fascists. Then self-destruct. It’s our fate." - Maniac Driver

The biggest highlight from Maniac Driver is its soundtrack. Moody synths which harken back to Claudio Simonetti and John Carpenter's eighties compositions, are another atmospheric layer to its retro appeal. Adding further to the mix is some melodic Japanese metal courtesy of Aiming High, which compliments some of the more intense scenes featured in the film. Hardly a novelty considering that's exactly what we got with Argento's Phenomena (1985), but it's a feature which  feels far better suited today on a low budget film rather than appearing at odds in one of Argento's celebrated efforts during his prime. Wish I copped the limited edition of the film when it was intially available as it came with a bonus CD soundtrack.

There's also the ending which would be a huge spoiler if discussed in real detail, but I found it reminscent of what the great giallo script writer Ernesto Gastaldi might have come up with. Then again, the film's title is a mash-up of Maniac and Taxi Driver, and therefore the ending should make perfect sense. It might realistically be a pinku-eiga film, first and foremost, but it does deliver the goods in what you might expect from an old school, giallo style slasher. LOL at the killer's laugh sounding like a kazoo, though. A worthwhile effort for a film made with little money and shot in just four and half days. Two thumbs up from me.

The Atrophy and the Ecstasy

Blind Beast (Yosuzô Masumura, 1969)

Cultural historians cite "the pill" as sparking off the sexual revolution, free love and drugged-up hippies; trends synonymous with the swinging sixties and early seventies. The world of film serves as a historical insight for those of us who weren't around in garnering some modest and skewered notion of what times were like back then. Judging by the works of notable erotic film directors like Walerian Borowczyk, Radley Metzger and Jesús Franco, I'm under the impression everyone was as it like rabbits. Japan was no different as the decade bore the Pink film, AKA Pinku eika.

Based upon Edogawa Rampo's 1931 novel, Moju: The Blind Beast, Yosuzô Masumura's Blind Beast is a perfect, yet disturbing example of this hedonistic period in film. More commonly labelled as an erotic horror, however, other than its finale, a more accurate description would be it's a psycho-sexual drama. In many ways, the film has a lot in common with William Wyler's obsessive tale The Collector (1965) and Pierro Schivazappa's battle of the sexes, The Laughing Woman (1969), AKA Femina Ridens, but it proceeds in its own unique direction once it reaches a pivotal juncture in the plot.

Aki is a beautiful model, who becomes the object of desire for Michio, the blind sculptor. The sightless virtuoso maybe a gifted artist, but, alas, not a pick-up artist. Conning his way as Aki's substitute masseur, he sweeps her off her feet via the aid of chloroform rather than chirpsing. Aidied by Michio's mother, Aki is kept prisoner in a dark studio decorated by various human body parts sculpted by Michio. Aki is forced to be her abducter's muse for his greatest sculpture. Thus, plenty of groping and fondelling ensues. Blind Beast chronicles Aki's eventual submission and love for Michio.

A compelling exhibition of Stockholm syndrome, where insanity and lust are in equal measure. Imprisoned for so long in her enclosure, Aki develops visusal atrophy and is left blind like her captor turned lover. The couple, addicted to each other's touching eventually become desensitised to this. Stronger displays of carnal affection manifest into S&M fetishism and even further extremes of sexual depravity, leading up to the film's show stopping finale.

Blind Beast is fairly minimalist; only three major characters and the majority of it is shot inside Michio's surreal looking studio. It's surprisingly well lit considering its gloomy location, and as already mentioned, a visual treat thanks to all the body parts adorning the walls. It makes for an unforgettable back drop in this macabre love tale. Its tone, along with the actors' performances are sincere and mature enough to never make the film appear salacious or truly exploitive. That might sound contradictive considering it falls under the pink film umbrella, but it equally crosses over into serious cinema territory to me. There's some telegraphed forshadowing which eventually comes to light for the film's unforgettable climax; a disturbing yet poetic bookend to the film, in my opinion.

Problematic by today's standards, Blind Beast is still a great film; which says a lot, since with the notable exception of Meiko Kaji's early run as Nami Matsushima in the Female Prisoner Scorpion franchise, the pinku eika I've sat through have been either dull or just down right nasty like the Entrails of a... films. Blind Beast is a rare winner in this category and makes me willing to give the genre another shot.