Arsenevich: Yasuzô Ma-su-mu-ra

Japonés | Subs: Castellano/English

85 min | x264 1024x432 | 2350 kb/s | 192 kb/s mp3 | 23.97 fps
1,54 GB

Tatuaje

Un misterioso artista de tatuaje coloca su obra maestra, una araña con cara humana, en la espalda de una mujer secuestrada. Ella y su amante se ven entonces forzados a entrar en una pesadilla, donde se enfrentan al peligro de convertirse en el mismo mal del que intentan escapar. Con cada nuevo incidente sangriento, el rostro de la araña parece enrojecer con un hambre cada vez mayor...

Con Irezumi, Ma-su-mura ofrece una narración fenomenal, un auténtico clásico de posguerra. Ma-su-mura no sólo nos deslumbra con una de sus composiciones visualmente más atractivas, sino que también permite al público discernir quién tiene el verdadero poder en el juego sexual. La elegante belleza de Ayako Wakao ronda la pantalla, seduciendo sutilmente al espectador, dando a la revelación de Ma-su-mura de la estupidez que marca la obsesión masculina por la posesión fálica su carácter incómodo pero revelador.

-- psychocinematography

Spider Tattoo

After a young girl is abducted, seduced and has a spider tattooed on her back; she herself becomes a predatory monster, taking revenge on every man who shares her bed. A lurid sixties 'pink film', adapted for the screen by Kaneto Shindo, director of The Naked Island, from Junichiro Tanizaki's short story.

This flamboyantly nihilistic, erotic costume thriller from one of the bad boys of ‘60s Japanese cinema provides a good example of the interesting associations that can arise when you view so many films in such a short time. After seeing a number of mild-mannered movies about the national predilection for social accommodation and respect for tradition, it’s bracing to watch one that spits and scratches at the face of such proprieties with such bad-mannered fury. The titular body decoration (and it’s a doozy) is spread across the silky back of a beautiful and spunky young woman from a middle-class merchant family who is abducted into geisha work. The ugliness of the premise is turned to beauty by the film’s black humor and sensuality: in what seems like almost every shot, Ma-su-mura puts to retina-singeing use an astonishingly varied palette of primary colors, without stumbling into garishness. The story is another matter, garish and perverse and gleefully proud of it. Moral clarity obviously isn’t this filmmaker’s bag, but Irezumi seems to be on the side of the underdogs’ right (obligation?) to bite back hard at any opportunity. Any explicitly feminist leanings are muddied by the movie’s ambivalence towards its antiheroine and its drooling fetishization of her body and face (not to mention a rather conventionally moralistic ending). Anyone who wants to accuse Ma-su-mura of misogyny might have half a case, but they’d have to contend first with the movie’s far more intense misandrony.

- Sam Kerr