bloody spear at mount fuji malformed men

No matter how worldly or open-minded you are as a cinema fan, there's always something lost in translation when it comes to a foreign film. Japanese culture in particular presents an interesting challenge involving traditions, rituals and social obligations that can seem laughably complex. Bloody Speak at Mount Fuji (1955) would seem to complicate the situation even further by being set during the Edo era, the same historical staging area as Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai released a year earlier. But, like Kurosawa, director Tomu Uchida seems to go out of his way to introduce the Japanese caste system, which sharply divided servants from their masters, in such a way that his story has universal appeal.

A road movie of sorts, Sakawa Kojuro is a samurai traveling with his two servants, Genta and Gonpachi, to deliver a ceremonial gift. But the road is crowded with fellow travelers en route to a local festival whose stories intersect with Kojuro and his companions. A dedicated spear-carrier, Gonpachi takes an ambitious orphan under his wing, teaching him techniques and life lessons. While Genta is charged with keeping his samurai master, who has a weakness for sake, away from any and all local drinking establishments. Meanwhile, a third plotline involving human trafficking sews the plot together in a tapestry of honor, loyalty and sacrifice.

Although the finale features a violent battle that finally earns the film its title, Bloody Spear at Mount Fuji is anything but a showcase for samurai swordplay. Uchida's film is far more interested in exploring the complicated relationships between social classes...and the foolishness of those complications. It's a political statement, yes, but one that never (or rarely) feels force-fed thanks to such a wonderfully fleshed out cast of characters. Despite the setting, Bloody Spear seems culturally universal; it's a story that needs no translation beyond a few subtitles.

Oddly enough, neither does 1969's Horrors of Malformed Men. Other than a 10-minute psychedelic mid-film freak out, director Teruo Ishii's artsploitation entry is a much more muted affair than the title suggests. Escaping from a co-ed mental facility (an early excuse for some Pinky Violence excess), Hirosuki Hitomi discovers he bears a near identical resemblance to the recently deceased heir of a wealthy estate. Taking his double's place, Hitomi soon comes to regret the decision as a family curse claims victim after victim, with all sign pointing toward a mysterious island inhabited by his hermetic father.

Malformed Men is a fairly straightforward mystery for most of its running time, a quest for identity that isn't all that far removed from pseudo-Gothics like Rebecca or various film noirs. But it's all leading up to a bizarre Shakespearean twist that involves incest, cannibalism and super-science with costumes and choreography from some forgotten off-Broadway show. The tonal shift is almost comically dramatic, but effective nonetheless. Ishii's staging of the island "paradise" is visually impressive, but the preposterous plotting (and even more ridiculous procedural wrap-up) isn't enough to overcome what is essentially just an exploitation movie on acid.