This charming little piece of classical Japanese "What the fuck!? How the hell should I know? Let's add a little more sex!" cinema, starts out harmless enough. The women of a Japanese family are besieged by the press and the police to lead them to the only living male of the family, who is the main suspect in a series of murders by decapitation.
The problem is, the family really doesn't know where the brother is. Neither do they think he could have killed anyone.
Finally, they seek the help of a duo of psychic investigators. Very soon, the film escapes the grasp of things like plot progression, logical motivations or good taste to never look back. Instead of those boring things, it features just about everything Japanese people love (if we do believe their movies): perhaps-incest, a terrible evil summoned down from the sky, Japanese FBI agents, a man with an unconquerable penis, guns, family as a form of slavery, decapitations, dead journalists, ghosts, non-consensual sex with a corpse, sex, more sex, an insane plot twist, an absurdly good choreographed action sequence, a musical interlude, sex of dubious consensuality, puking, a few buckets of blood, very strange humor and (I think) sex.
If you are not offended by now, you probably are in the market for Crazy Lips. I salute you, sister or brother!
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2 comments:
This film does indeed push past the boundaries of good taste. I forgot how many rape scenes there were, and I have to confess that those bother me a little.
The musical sequence, the borderline retarded FBI agents that speak horrible English, the pipe-wielding kung fu battle, and numerous other pieces of the film are pretty entertaining though.
It reminded me of something Takashi Miike might make on a bad day. What it lacked in talent it made up for in sheer insanity.
Yeah, the "Miike on a bad day comparison" is spot on. The main difference besides talent being that Miike is able to get an emotional reaction out of me that goes beyond "What the hell!?".
The Japanese exploitation movie love for rape bothers me, too. Here, I couldn't take it seriously enough to be really bothered. It always helps when it's at least not a movie's designated hero who is the rapist.
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