Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1988)
　
This is as confrontational and challenging as art gets. Director Shinya Tsukamto drew inspiration from Toho monster movies and television as a child in Tokyo. He dabbled in avant garde theater, painting and composing ad jingles before channeling all of his inestimable brilliance into this atom bomb of a debut feature. In addition to directing, he wrote, produced, acted in and co-photographed this very personal piece of work.
 
If I were to attempt to synopsize the plot, I would tell you it’s about an average Japanese salaryman, who after committing hit and run on a character known only as the metal fetishist, begins to transmogrify into a heaving mass of uncontrollable metal. This causes him no small discomfort in dealing with folks on the subway and leads to a messy deterioration of the relationship with his understandably recalcitrant girlfriend. It all culminates in a cataclysmic showdown with the metal fetishist, who having not died in the hit and run is out for revenge and been doing some changing of his own.
 
The story is mere framework and generally meaningless in light of the manner in which it is told. The scant set-up serves only as a backdrop to the myriad psychological issues and socio-political concerns Tsukamoto seems hell bent on expressing to the viewer, whether they are prepared to ingest his volatile cocktail or not.
 
Themes of alienation in the face of technological advancement, childhood abuse, latent homosexuality and violent claustrophobia lurking beneath the domestic struggle run roughshod over this 67 minute, fevered nightmare of a film. My penchant for run-on sentences notwithstanding, if one cares to peer beneath the visual bombast, Tetsuo is loaded with an inordinate amount of sub-text to chew on. It’s so much more than just shock and awe, but lets discuss the shock and awe shall we?
 
One gets the impression this film could not possibly have originated from this planet. Its world is a twisted, indecipherable collision of metal, rust, tangled wires and corrugated tubing that threatens to overtake any and all organic beings. The mayhem is set to a groundbreaking techno-percussive soundtrack by Chu Ishikawa that expertly highlights the breakneck pace of the film. The makeup, stop motion work and constructed sets are some of the most fascinating, detailed and unique ever to be seen in film. I’m frankly shocked more people don’t talk about them.
 
While it certainly incorporates the evolution of human into technological creature element of Cronenberg and the textural aesthetic of early Lynch, it vastly surpasses these obvious influences in both intensity and execution.
 
I highly doubt a film that assaults the senses and mind this brutally has been produced in the 21 year interim since Tetsuo’s release. It’s not for everyone, but its power and wholly uncompromising genius cannot be denied or understated.
 
4 out of 4

reviewed Matt Risnes

© Copyright 2009 John Shatzer