The Beast to Die

Besides being the title of a great Brian Jonestown Massacre album, Thank God for Mental Illness could also serve as the rallying cry for desperate filmmakers. Really, if it weren’t for the clinically depressed, schizophrenic, or psychotic, we’d be left with nothing but romantic comedies. Things reached an apex in the late ’70s with films like Taxi Driver riding the paranoia of the times. The Beast to Die (1980) treads on similar psychological turf, with iconic Japanese actor Yusaku Matsuda hiding his PTSD behind a dark pair of shades.

An ex-war photographer, Kunihiko Date (Matsuda) manages to pass as merely eccentric. His refined taste in art and classical music is little more than a mask—one that barely conceals the violent urges simmering beneath the surface. In truth, Date is a ticking time bomb, prone to sudden outbursts of murder and armed robbery, all carried out with an eerie calm and emotional detachment that make him as fascinating as he is terrifying. So when he’s romantically pursued by a casual acquaintance just as he’s planning his next bank job, it’s safe to say we’re not headed for a happy ending.

A heady mix of Matsuda’s previous Game series and seminal ’70s cinema from the likes of Scorsese and Coppola, The Beast to Die turns mental illness into a kind of superpower. Date’s nocturnal misadventures, while often messy and frantic, are contrasted by his cold, analytical approach to each crime—both before and after the fact. There’s an element of autistic savant syndrome at play—most recently popularized in The Accountant and its sequel—that’s off-putting from a clinical standpoint… but undeniably cool onscreen. And Matsuda delivers a stunning half-lidded performance that’s anything but lazy, despite rarely stringing together a full sentence.

Director Toru Murakawa leans into long takes, master shots, and awkward silences, squeezing every ounce of drama from a one-take street fight shot from 100 feet away in the pouring rain. The film is beautifully obtuse, mirroring the Zen-like indifference of its main character. So when things finally come to a head, revealing Date’s post-combat hang-ups, the emotional explosion is almost more than the narrative can bear. It’s like that classic John Ford quote that applies so well to cinema itself: “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

Radiance has pulled another rabbit out of their hat with this import, sporting a 4K digital transfer, interview, video appreciation, reversible sleeve, and liner notes.