
Even though Gakuryu Ishii may not be a household name in the West, his artwork and style have seen him attain the status of one of the most dominant however the low number of them makes it even worse. The world was first introduced to the work of Sogo Ishii (he would later change his name) through Crazy Thunder Road (1980) and Burst City (1982). In the 90s, he began to introduce more intricate projects: Angel Dust (1994) and later August in the Water (1995). After this, he directed Isn’t Anyone Alive? (2012), Punk Samurai (2018), Electric Dragon 80,000v (2001) and That’s It! (2015). He made all of these movies within a decade and while they are all made in a similar time frame, their topics differ entirely. His style cannot be limited to a single genre but that is rather funny in this case, when what I am aspiring to is his new film which is called The Box Man is currently showing in a few cinemas in the UK. However, a question almost always arises for the audience of the new film and that is which Ishii will show himself in this movie?
It’s easy to understand how one would address the issue of this film style by classifying it as a genre feature of Boozed Up Bomber Tizimin Blend. Ishii had for decades wanted to adapt the book by Kōbō Abe for the big screen, but managed to do it only in the 90s. Only because of his untimely death did the production become stuck for the foreseeable future, emerging across the other side is a movie that is a weird ride. Most importantly, one which the admirers of Abe’s oeuvre, like the play The Man Who Turned Into A Stick (1957) with an intriguing title, will take in their stride. For all others, The Box Man is literally about just that. What does the Box Man Off do? He is the ocean, he is a cut hand from society and herd culture, and he wears a box on his head. Off ticks the only box necessary for his release and exorcism from the modern world. In Japan there are people, who choose of their own volition to become recluses, or, suffer a number of extreme forms of social withdrawal, they are colloquially known as hikikomori.
However, he can’t be completely as free as his heart wishes because there is a rather strange faction that is also interested in him a veteran doctor (Koichi Sato) suffering from suicidal ideation who insists on being referred to as General, one of his bogus doctors Tadanobu Asano, and a pretty young actress nurse, who is Yoko (Ayana Shiramoto). The first act also features an actor that will sow seeds of recollection of the spear-toting semi-ill, silent homeless person (independent movie regular Kiyohiko Shibukawa), and what’s more interesting, some people seem to want to be the head of The Box Man, and there can only be one in every town; the moment someone leans towards being attracted to The Box Man, the person leaves.
What about this version of Gakuryu Ishii in The Box Man which we are asked to answer, one’s self is not sure it’s something he’s done before and while that could be construed negatively he’s known as a punk filmmaker and they do not play by the rules or respect any convention.
The film begins with Nagase reading out his notes while watching people around him live their lives, and as a consequence, getting on his nerves (he has a nice low voice). His tranquility is violently disturbed when there are two people, Asano and Shibukawa who wish him dead, the first one has a sniper barrel pointed towards him while the latter throws traditional Japanese instruments at him. After this Box Man becomes one, The Box Man moves back to show Asano’s group and their cruel admiration of what seems to be a beggar wearing a box on his head. During this time, one of the people has an erotic enema administered to him (it’s quite dark), Benoit whips the other two men’s heads off in a boxing match worn over a box, the winner is now ‘The Box Man’, in what is deliciously amusing.
This leads the film to its resolution, where the movie explores the depths of the life of these people and the existential crises that drive them towards such comically surrealistic bounds, if you walk into this movie expecting any answers (simple or otherwise), you will walk out frustrated because Ishii’s latest movie is very rich in subtext which is up for interpretation. Many will actively dislike the ideological ascription that puts it in phase with American experimentalists of the ’60s, Czech and Slovak New Wavers, and Japanese New Wave.
For those who have an open mind towards The Box Man, it is a phenomenological exploration of postmodern man and the regions he occupies, voyeurism, manic depression, and envy, with part of the film being ecologically conscious (Are humans too limitless in our design as to fit on this planet? Are we all too complicated? Are we all overly complicated and need to simplify?). Credit the cast for making something so ‘other’ aspirational and transcendental as it is clear to all of them it’s all or nothing when it comes to addressing the material because any stray piece of this jigsaw would render the whole thing useless.
In a world where the box costumes are also wonderful, it creates the impression of a suit of armor or a very small home with a dark room within it. And yes, there is romance Yoko brings hope to the three protagonists who are completely captivated by The Box Man. It sounds as if she has no willpower, but her role is compassionate. Furthermore, there is an energetic jazz soundtrack, which is similar to Seijun Suzuki’s films, and a wonderful cinematography by Hideho Urata that is casually profound, absurd, and intelligent.
At the end of the day, it is a strange movie, and one I might have brutally derided or dismissively called ‘pretentious’, but whether it is the end of the world minimalism of Isn’t Anyone Alive? or the out-there, whimsical enigma of Angel Dust Gakuryu Ishii has that elusive quality in his work that just irks you. That x-factor oddity enhances The Box Man into something I just can’t stop thinking about, and that’s saying a lot in this age of constant and many times thoughtless stimulation. Its experimental nature is not of that exotic sort often found and adored in contemporary art galleries, and the sensibilities here are mainstream at the core as they arise from the absurdity of the characters’ lives. The Box Man, for its narrative, structurally, is not much odder than a Peter Strickland movie but rather is less the difficult bobbins of a Symbiopsychotaxiplasm and more the kafkaesque oddity of In Fabric. Certainly, somebody without the same references could see this, leave the cinema, and claim it to be the worst movie they’ve seen, but all I will say is that there is no evidence supporting this claim, and rather this is a case of ‘you reap what you sow’.
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