Kagerô-za

Yomota Inuhik's seminal book, "What Is Japanese Cinema?" takes readers through the Taisho-era's gut-wrenching quest to define the essence of truly Japanese film, those elements that capture the culture's soul and distinguish its movies from those made anywhere else. "Kagero-za" captures that struggle in a period piece set in those times, using the classic ghost enchantress theme as its storyline, and embellished with all the bells and whistles that 1980s filmmaking had to offer. But on display are off-camera actors and yukio-e framing alongside Japanese cinema's roots in kabuki and puppet theater. Director Seijun Suzuki, who frequently abandoned logic in favor of sheer entertainment, tracks a writer's descent into metaphysical madness and takes viewers along for the ride. It's Suzuki unleashed from studio assignments and raw exploitation films, somehow churning out five or six pictures a year, a contract director turned independent auteur who delivers an exceptional work packed with astonishing imagery. It's compelling cinema that could only have been made in Japan.