What’s Fashion Without a Little EVIL Behavior? “Helter Skelter” reviewed! (Radiance Films / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Beauty is Pain. “Helter Skelter” from 88 Films!

Lilico is the hottest Japanese fashion icon.  Fans adore her, brands want her, magazines crave her, and paparazzi and photographers yearn to shoot and work with her beauty that inspires all and commands undivided attention.  However, her astonishing beauty isn’t entirely organic as multiple surgeries through unorthodox surgical procedures that enhance her from a forgettable nobody to an unforgettable somebody.  Her radical surgeries begin to show blight side effects of the surface of her skin, sending her into vanity driven sociopathic spiral of sex, mental torture, and self-destruction, also affecting those closely around her, especially her assistant Hada who takes the brunt of her maltreatment.  When a new, hot model is presented by her manager and the world begins to fall in love with her, seemingly dropping Lilico from being the face of the fashion industry, the model’s snowballing and necrotizing surgical side effects can’t be stopped from becoming all but public. 

Social commentary horror movies like “The Substance,” “The Neon Demon,” and “The Ugly Stepsister” underline the vast awfulness and extreme lengths of beauty standards.  How to keep youthful, how to manipulate the face and body, and how envy can be weaponized from the worst of counterparts are just some of the attributes, which are very accurate outside the cinema, used as tropes for the body horror subgenre where attractiveness is the core catalyst that motivates monstrosities.  These late 2010s and early 2020 films might not have been directly inspired by Mika Ninagawa’s “Helter Skelter” but definitely pulls from the same cloth.  The 2012 Japanese fashion industrialized body and psychological horror is adapted by Arisa Kaneko based off the Kyôko Okazaki manga of the same name with established manga-to-film experienced producers, Morio Amagi (“Cutie Honey”) and Mitsuru Uda (“Xxxholic”), producing the WOWOW, Parco Co. Ltd, and Asmik Ace Entertainment film.

Objectification perspective isn’t always from the outside looking in but can be looking out as well.  In “Helter Skelter,” model Lilico believes in her self-importance, treating others in subordinate to her illustriousness career as the hottest flavor in Japan’s fashion society.  Society objectifies Lilico as nothing more than a stylistic Goddess who can do no wrong and even have the smallest bit of her in their space, whether be the hot topic of conversation or to the be face of their magazine cover, whereas Lilico objectifies those all around her with eviscerating self-proclaimed eminence and dominion over their mind, body, and soul.  “Ghost Train’s” Erika Sawajiri has the perfect look and approach to celebrity derision without blatancy toward others as her expressionless face never contorts with anger, never smiles without the devilish smirk and piercing eyes, that makes the fashion icon unreadable and to sway of control during bi-polar scenes where happiness and disgust swing rapid on a totalitarianism pendulum.  Personal assistant Michiko Hada, under the performance of “R100’s” Shinobu Terajima, takes the brunt of abuse during on-the-clock and off-the-clock professional and personal time.  Terajima’s ordinary bearings for Hada make the character an easy target in contrast to Lilico’s ornate wardrobe and lavish style of living spurred by ruthless nature to be best and most beautiful, taking an authoritative sovereign stance of control in the fashion hierarchy.  Lilico’s spoiled prince behavior coincides by a fueling Kaori Momoi in a queen-like mother figure as the talent agent who mostly advises her star pupil an instigating misconduct mindset with pro-surgical advice and like-minded guidance that artificially influences her body despite the pain and dangers as well as providing a mimicking behavior of dejecting and downcast harm.  Nao Ōmori (“Ichi the Killer”), Gô Ayano (“Woman Transformation”), Kiko Mizuhara (“Attack on Titan”), Hirofumi Arai (“The Neighbor No. Thirteen”), Anne Suzuki (“Returner”), and Mieko Harada (“Ran”) all play a role in the rise and fall of Lilico.

Much like Lilico’s quickly deteriorating fractured state of mind, and body, Ninagawa utilizes a cinematic style that’s overly brilliant with neon colors and a sharp polished look that contrasts reality and distorted perception, creating a disjointed narrative digression Lilico experiences.  The hyper stylization keeps in tandem with the fashion world of flash photography and gaudy maximalism, the ultra-violence and promiscuous behavior depict the cutthroat competition of remaining beautiful and the ugliness that’s truly inside, and the sheer flaunting of indifference and superficiality lingers throughout in and out of favor of our terrible protagonist who is actually the villain and the victim of her own tale.  Each character is flawed beyond reproach and having no redeemable qualities that make them appear strong or promising to be a virtuous type.  Not even the meek and eager-to-please personal assistant Hada who takes the punishing commands of her employer and manager in a purely pitiful subjugation of oneself to not lose a job position and be in the presence of stardom.  Hada even lets Lilico invade her personal life and continues to let it happen with no choice in the matter.  “Helter Skelter” embodies the very definition of the term with its confused and hurried chaotic state in design and in story while, in the same baroque breath, disenchanting the illusion of the fashion industry and beauty standards as not glamourous and genuine but fickle and fabricated with a heavy dish of backstabbing and self-destruction. 

In the same spirit as photogenic magazine models, UK label 88 Films releases a beautifully crafted, limited-edition Blu-ray release.  The numbered release Blu-ray is AVC encoded, 1080 high-definition resolution, onto a BD50 that was already shot digitally with a Red One MX camera through Zeiss Ultra Prime and Angenieux Optimo lenses under cinematographer Daisuke Soma.  This gave “Helter Skelter” a glamorously polished look to accentuate the hyper-stylized and contemporary look that starkly discolor the centralized characters as ruthless people of fashion and high society.  When good finally enters the picture, a young model stepping to Lilico’s high heels as the next young, hot model, the harsh design of modernism is scaled back to simple and sterile aspects with more of the dramatics being held locally to the downfallen characters.  Higher contrasts create deeper shadows amongst a medium-heavy color saturation that primaries strong statement colors like fire-engine red and Duke blue.  The curvature of the anamophoric lenses, presenting in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, do show intentional signs of wrapping at the sides to capture the entirety of the wide shots in smaller spaces but adds to the surrealistic effect and is implemented at the right moments to make it all sensible.  No compression issues to note.  The Japanese DTS-HD 5.1 Master Audio and 2.0 Stereo tracks are the only two formats encoded.  The 5.1 has formidable attention to the side and back channels with the chaotic fashion-industry ambiance with erratic behaviors steering the scene.  Every action detail is highlighted to bring quieter scenes more tension and every tumultuous moments a fuller body.  The dialogue is crystal clear and layered appropriate with environmental track and soundtrack.  Moods rise up and down with the fluctuation soundtrack that pulsates in breath-holding, provocative, turning-point scenes that while melodies play in more of shocking portions to entice attention during climatic notes.  The newly translated English subtitles have no synchronization or grammatical issues to note and pace well with the visuals.  Special features include a feature in tandem audio commentary with Tori Potenza and Amber T., interviews with star Erika Sawajiri and director Mika Ninagawa, a behind the scenes of raw footage making the film, the Japanese premiere stage greeting, an opening day stage greeting, the Q&A from the Taipei Film Festival with director Mika Ninagawa, the original rehearsal footage, an image gallery, and the teaser and official trailers.  Like Ninagawa’s film, 88 Films tangible release is also hyper-stylized with newly commissioned art by Luke Insect that’s surreal, color, and slightly disturbing.  The clear Scanavo cases comes with an gold Obi strip with film and Blu-ray details and the sleeve is dual sided with original Japaense compositional design on the inside.  Inserted inside is a 23-page color booklet with a chaptered essay by Violet Burns, complete with color photo stills and promotional photos with the front and back art contrasting the two model women in a good and evil, light and dark, way.  The not rated, limited-edition Blu-ray has a runtime of 127 minutes and is A and B encoded to support playback in the Americas as well as Europe. 

Last Rites: There are plenty of horror as well as commentary films about fashion, but none do it with style quite like Mika Ninagawa and still develop an unrivaled cynicism of self-implosion.

Beauty is Pain. “Helter Skelter” from 88 Films!

To Be an Intolerant Human Is to Be EVIL! “Lion-Girl” reviewed! (Cleopatra Entertainment / Blu-ray)

Here is “Lion-Girl.” Hear Her Roar on Blu-ray!

In the year 2045, a rain of meteorites harbingers the possible destruction of the human race as the space rocks contain harmful, radioactive rays that either kill a human within seconds or doesn’t kill them at all but transformers them into bloodletting, mutated beasts with superhuman abilities known as Anoroc.  While the rest of the world collapses, only Tokyo remains as the last human stronghold governed by a fascist dictator Nobuhide Fujinaga and his band of ruthless, police state Shogun led by despotic Kaisei Kishi.  Fujinaga and Kishi’s prejudices extend decades later when children in utero are exposed to Anoroc rays that keep their human appearances and behaviors only to have gained the psychokinetic energy powers.  These evolved man and Anoroc are labeled Man-Anoroc and are sought out for extermination but one defender of the weak and less fortunate, known as Lion-Girl, takes a stand against the forces of evil and bigotry, making Lion-Girl Earth’s last and only hope.

Inspired by the prolific manga works of Gô Nagai (“Cutie Honey,” “Devilman”) and Nagai providing the conceptual illustrations, the Japanese filmmaker behind the pulse-pounding pistol-whipper  “Gun Woman,” starring cult erotic-actress Asami, and the Italian yellow picture, or giallo, influenced “Maniac Driver” turns his eclectic, electric style to reproduce his love for manga and the classic Japanese superhero canon with a new heroine in “Lion Girl.”  Kurando Mitsutake endears to his audiences through passion for cutting-edge manga’s commanding nudity, a hero’s odyssey in a dystopian future, and a comic’s style depicting graphically good versus evil.   The COVID era stymied production costs due to supply issues, affecting various departments such as special effects and even the cast with relative unknown faces, but Mitsutake pushes forward with the Japanese Toei Video Company (“Battle Royale”) co-production with America’s Flag Productions and Nagai’s Dynamic Planning.  Masayuki Yamada, Gaku Kawasaki (“The Parasite Doctor Suzune”), and Mami Akari (“Maniac Driver”) produce the film.

As stated, “Lion-Girl” is filled with unrecognizable faces save for one, an actor who is usually behind the masks, such as in “The Hills Have Eyes 2” ’07,” “Predators,” and even donning the iconic hockey mask for the 2009 reboot of “Friday the 13th” as Jason Voorhees.  Derek Mears headlines being the film’s core villain, shogun Kaisei Kishi, the remorseless, power-hungry right-hand man of the Fujinaga state, as Mears’ towering 6’5” stature and unique facial features pit him against a then 22-year-old newcomer Tori Griffith in a highly visibly protagonist role requiring fully onboard nudity and choreographed physical altercations.  Griffith pulls off both requirements going through the tokusatsu, hoodoo cliffside and other desert terrain, geometries of motion that fortunately conceal a more softened performance when compared to Mears’ who actually puts a fair amount of attitude into the shogun role.  As the Lion-Girl’s sworn protector, as well as one-eyed uncle, Damian Toofeek Raven (“Komodo vs. Cobra”) resembles the sempai fostering and mentoring a younger, stronger apprentice to one day save the world.  Raven, like most of the film’s cross-cultural influences, is able to ride the line as force into an honorable fatherhood with Ken Shishikura but the character poorly exorcises compassion of a father substitute until the very end when the right moment in the script calls for it.  One flaw in “Lion-Girl’s” casting stitch is the feature could have been meatier as keystone supporting characters come and go so quickly that it could rival the likes of “Mortal Kombat 2:  Annihilation.”  Thus, rapid firing subordinate roles just to progress the story creates more questions than answers and creates more plot holes than necessary.   Nobuhide Fujinaga (Tomoki Kimura, “A Beast in Love”) leads as the iron fist of bigotry in a tyrannically society but barely has presence other than on television announcements, a pair of Kishi entourage lackeys (David Sakurai, “Karate Kill,” and Jenny Brezinski, “From Jennifer”) get lifted up by the dialogue and some action but have the rug cut out from under them from really being developed and explored, and even principal character Marion Nagata (Joey Iwanaga, “Tokyo Vampire Hotel”), the gunslinging coyote, has zero foundational building blocks being a love interest for Lion-Girl yet crowns as such at the story’s climatic showdown.  “Lion-Girl” is saturated with supporting cast and stock characters with round out by Marianne Bourg, Matt Standley, Shelby Lee Parks, Hideotoshi Imura, Holgie Forrester, Katarina Severen, Stefanie Estes, and Wes Armstrong.

“Lion-Girl” roars as a wild, untamed animal, mangy in its worst moments but also majestic at the same time.  This paradoxical cultural expression befits the co-superpowers production, blending Japanese and American flavors and faults into one oversized bag of live-action manga.  With a derision mostly toward western affairs, such as the media circus surrounding the xenophobic administration’s handling of the corona virus, to which the filmic beasts known as Anaroc is corona spelled backwards, the haughty, bullying state doesn’t stray far from Kurando Mitsutake’s pen-to-paper handiwork as he also invokes Gô Nagai’s freedom sense of nudity and violence aimed to shake up with acculturation in high level eroticism that’s not seen as sleazy or objectifying but rather empowering and artistic.  What Mitsutake does really well and what’s also to the film’s misstep for today’s audiences is the complete blitzkrieg of background setup that’s bombastically overwhelming with incident backstory, dystopian factions, and the new terminologies in a single, longwinded breath, culminating to an early point in the film with a fight between Lion-Girl and an Anaroc beast where mutated breasts are essentially turned into a flamethrower and psychokinetic battles are commissioned in headspace.  That’s the kind of psychotronic tone that bears the cult seal of approval, or in this film, the lion’s share of cult approval. 

Cleopatra Entertainment, the filmic subsidiary company of Cleopatra Records, scores big with Kurando Mitsutake retro-fitted superhero “Lion-Girl” on Blu-ray.  The AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, single-layered BD25 is literally stuffed to the brim, presented in a 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio.  Compression bitrate swings the pendulum, decoding between low 30s and high teens resulting in smoothed over details.  To the film’s advantage, the abated details play into the old-style Japanese action flicks of yore, creating a pseudo-illusion of a flatten color palette and lower resolution last seen on tube televisions.  Okay, might not be to that extent as therein lies decently popping color scheme and rough contouring and lighting in more scarce settings to make the scenes less complex and rely on more smoke and mirrors to stretch the interior-exterior location budget.  The lossy English language Dolby Digital 5.1 surround track is accompanied with also a Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo.  While nothing to negatively harp on in regard to “Lion-Girl’s” sound design and soundtrack as a whole, there’s plenty to like about the wide-ranged, heavy rock-riffing audio with unequivocal balance between the sounds and channeling albeit a lesser fidelity.  Peppered with Japanese words, the dialogue is forefront and clear that red-carpet the numerous monologues with all-day importance.  The release does not come with any subtitle option.  Bonus content includes a director’s commentary track, a conversation between Kurando Mitsutake and manage artist Gô Nagai as they discuss nudity, working in America, genesis for “Lion-Girl,” and their COVID era collaborations, the making-of “Lion-Girl,” “The Hollywood premier screen with cast and director Q&A, a picture slideshow, and the theatrical trailer.  Cleopatra’s release caters to a conventional standard retail market with a commonplace Amaray and disc release and nothing more.  The front cover design is not terribly appeasing with a crowded image composite bathed in an eye-deafening and searing red.  Disc represents the same front cover image and there is no insert inside the Amaray casing.  The region free release is unrated and has an impressively entertaining runtime of a 121-minutes.  Marketed to be a different kind of superhero movie, “Lion-Girl” is certainly more than that, portrayed by Kurando Mitsutake as a love song toward the pulp exposure of his childhood and the film really glows passionately like an Anaroc with supernatural powers ready to strike with nostalgia at the heart of Japanese pop culture.

Here is “Lion-Girl.” Hear Her Roar on Blu-ray!