A genuinely great film artist on a level with the most reputed names of world cinema, Suzuki’s was, for better and worse, famously defined by his struggle against being pigeonholed as a director of gangland melodramas.He subjected the genre to increasingly strange and astounding formal experiments and thematic detonations, until he finally, effectively sabotaged his career with the mighty surrealist thriller (1967).Chcąc uwolnić się od tej namiętności, mszcząc się za swoje upokorzenia, próbuje uwieść adiutanta oficera, Mikami. Czy jej miłość zdoła stawić czoło bezwzględnym regułom japońskiego kodeksu wojskowego, obsesyjnemu przywiązaniu do honoru, obowiązkowi wobec cesarza, pogardzie dla życia i osobistego szczęścia?
In later work, he pushed ever closer to abstraction and complete fragmentation of narrative.
A product of the time when he was still part of Nikkatsu and yet also clearly a renegade, is both a lacerating study of historical military and sexual insanity, and a monument to Suzuki’s own outsider bravado as a filmmaker and an relentless, ferocious commentator on his society.
Fired from Nikkatsu Studios, Suzuki spent more than a decade in purgatory, spurned by other studios, before he returned as a maker of oddball, outright art films.
Suzuki tested the tensile integrity of visual narrative with ever more daring force, keeping pace with and even outdoing the many western directors engaging with formal experimentalism during the ‘60s.
Breaking momentarily free from his allotted role at the studio, Suzuki inverts the usual focus of the genre films he made, with the stoic, loner action heroes he was already aggressively disassembling, to look at a determined, unruly, but ultimately self-destructive heroine and make a sustained assault on the evils of Japan’s recent past.