Director Tai Kato wastes no time getting down to business in I, The Executioner (1968): before the opening credits roll, we witness an extremely violent crime against a woman who is knocked down, stripped, gagged and tied up, then brought back to consciousness and forced to write something before being raped and stabbed violently to death. The camera stays close on the suffering woman, and the only sounds we hear are her muffled cries, making the violence seem very real and personal. The identity of her assailant (Makoto Sato, whose character uses multiple names) is concealed until nearly the end of the sequence.
The crime-scene investigation, carried out dispassionately by a crew of men, and the opening credits sequence are accompanied by a bizarre vocal soundtrack (by Hajime Kaburagi) reminiscent of the Swingle Singers in a down-tempo mood (the same style of music heard throughout). Clearly, this is not going to be a conventional film, and it lives up to that promise with an unusual premise, oddly-paced storytelling, and a cinematic style that uses the full range of expression, from extreme close-ups to long shots whose purpose is not always clear (in retrospect, they may be establishing the state of Tokyo as a city in flux). Kato’s characteristic low camera angle also provides a different view of the most ordinary scenes, making this film worth seeing for the visuals alone.
The police investigating this murder are not particularly interested in solving it—one remarks that the dead woman was a bar hostess, and among bar hostesses she was “a type who are likely to be murdered” because she’d been in the business for 10 years, while his colleague is distracted by his hemorrhoids but offers the observation that “women who are around many men are likely to die cruelly.” So you might think we are intended to feel sympathetic to the victim (and those yet to come), but it’s just another example of misdirection in this confounding but unforgettable film. In fact, the director has a similar lack of interest in the victims, whose stories we don’t learn and who are barely even differentiated from each other.
I, The Executioner, shot in black and white by Keiji Maruyama, is a story of relentless revenge carried out by someone whose connection to the crime in question is extremely tangential. A 16-year-old delivery boy whom Sato’s character barely knew committed suicide after a series of sexual experiences with the women (whose names he forced the first woman to write down) he is determined to kill—but he seems to be driven by more personal demons since the killings don’t seem to be providing him with any catharsis. The police have to pay attention as the bodies pile up, but have a tough task since there’s no obvious connection between the women and the killer.
Since we know before the credits roll who’s doing the murders, and the character played by Sato is clearly someone who finishes what he starts, the only mysteries are whether the police will get it together enough to catch him and, more importantly, what’s really behind his behavior. In the process, Kato provides a window on lower-class Japanese life and creates one bright and likeable character in this otherwise very dark film, a waitress (Chieko Baisho) at a noodle shop who seems like she may become a love interest for Sato’s character. | Sarah Boslaugh
I, The Executioner is distributed on VOD by Film Movement Plus beginning Jan. 31.
