Review: Yurusarezaru Mono (dir. by Lee Sang-il)


“Wait for me in hell.” — Jubei Kamata

Unforgiven, released in Japan as Yurusarezaru Mono—literally “The Unforgiven” or “Unforgivable”—is the 2013 Japanese remake of Clint Eastwood’s 1992 revisionist Western. Rather than treating the original as a sacred object that cannot be touched, director Lee Sang-il and star Ken Watanabe prove that its central ideas can travel surprisingly well. The story moves from the fading American frontier to Hokkaido in the early Meiji era, when Japan was modernizing quickly and the samurai class was becoming a relic of a vanishing order. In that sense, the film finds the perfect Japanese equivalent to Eastwood’s aging gunslingers. Just as William Munny belongs to an Old West that is dying around him, Jubei Kamata belongs to a Japan that no longer has a clear place for men like him.

It also belongs to a much longer tradition in which samurai and Western gunslingers have become closely intertwined character types. Both are often portrayed as isolated men shaped by violence, reputation, personal codes, and the decline of the worlds that made them useful. Both can drift into a troubled town, become involved in someone else’s conflict, and turn into a larger-than-life figure whether they want to or not. The exchange between the genres has gone on for decades, most famously when Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo became the basis for Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dollars. Yurusarezaru Mono feels like an especially appropriate continuation of that conversation: a Japanese filmmaker takes an American Western that was itself deeply interested in dismantling the gunslinger myth and uses it to confront the equally romanticized myth of the samurai.

The original Unforgiven was already a film about stripping the glamour away from violence. Eastwood took the familiar image of the weathered gunfighter coming back for one final job and showed the ugliness underneath it. Violence is not clean, heroic, or especially skillful when it happens for real. It is frightening, clumsy, painful, and impossible to undo. Lee Sang-il keeps that moral core but finds a distinct cultural target. The Japanese version examines the idealized samurai image: the disciplined swordsman, the honorable warrior, the proud survivor of a more noble age. It asks whether any of those myths can survive when the man behind them has killed people, carries terrible memories, and no longer knows who he is without violence.

Ken Watanabe plays Jubei Kamata, a former samurai once feared as “Jubei the Killer.” He is the film’s William Munny equivalent, but Watanabe does not simply imitate Eastwood’s performance. Jubei is introduced as an exhausted farmer and widower raising two children in hard conditions. He is poor, physically worn down, and clearly ashamed of the person he used to be. Watanabe gives him an almost painful heaviness. Jubei is not merely an old warrior who wants peace; he is a man who has spent years trying to become someone else because he knows exactly what “Jubei the Killer” was capable of.

The early-Meiji setting gives that character arc a stronger historical charge. Jubei is not just retired from a bloody life. He is part of a fading warrior caste in a country remaking itself through new laws, new institutions, modernization, and expanding state power. The samurai may still exist in memory and in popular myth, but their old social role is slipping away. That mirrors the original film’s dying Old West perfectly. The gunslinger and the samurai are both figures from a violent past who have become obsolete, yet neither can completely escape the reputation that past gave them.

The plot begins after a prostitute is viciously assaulted and scarred by two men in a northern settlement. The town’s authorities treat the crime as an economic issue instead of an act of cruelty against a human being, so the women of the brothel raise a bounty for the attackers’ deaths. Kingo Baba, Jubei’s old companion, approaches him about the bounty and offers him a share of the reward. Jubei refuses at first because he has children, a failing farm, and a life he is trying to preserve. But poverty, desperation, and the lingering pull of his former identity eventually drag him back into violence.

The film’s real power is that it never turns this decision into a simple revenge fantasy. The men being hunted deserve condemnation for what they did, and the film does not soften that. Still, it never suggests that killing them will restore the woman they harmed or somehow balance the moral scale. Murder does not solve the original injustice; it only broadens the cycle of pain. Like Eastwood’s film, Yurusarezaru Mono constantly pushes against the audience’s instinct to treat revenge as satisfying or cleansing.

Jubei teams up with Kingo Baba, played by Akira Emoto, an old companion who fills the role of Ned Logan from the original. Their relationship is one of the remake’s best qualities. Emoto gives Kingo a tired, approachable decency, but he also makes clear that the man has lived long enough to understand the price of violence. He and Jubei do not need to explain their history in long speeches. Their shared past comes through in their guarded conversations, familiar irritation, and unspoken awareness that they are both far too old to be pretending this job will end cleanly.

Goro Sawada, played by Yuya Yagira, is just as important because he represents the fantasy of violence before reality destroys it. He wants a name. He wants to be feared. He wants stories about himself that will make him sound larger than life. But the film dismantles him in the same way Unforgiven dismantled the Schofield Kid. The first time he confronts the real consequences of killing, there is no rush of glory. There is only confusion, panic, and guilt. A legend is always easier to believe in when someone else has done the killing.

One of the Japanese remake’s most meaningful additions is its inclusion of the Ainu people, the Indigenous people of Hokkaido. The original film largely avoided directly engaging with the history of Native Americans in the American frontier, but Yurusarezaru Mono brings Indigenous displacement and discrimination into the story in a major way. Jubei’s late wife was Ainu, and his children therefore carry that heritage. Goro is also connected to the Ainu community and can speak the language. The film takes place during a period in which the Japanese state was expanding its control over Hokkaido, dispossessing and assimilating Ainu people while suppressing their culture and language.

That addition does not merely provide a local equivalent for the Western’s Native American history. It changes the emotional stakes of the entire story. Jubei is not only a former samurai made obsolete by Japan’s new order; he is tied by family to people being actively marginalized by that order. His farm, his children, and his dead wife become part of a larger historical wound. The film’s frontier is not empty land waiting for settlement. It is land already inhabited by people whose rights, identities, and futures are being threatened. By including the Ainu, the remake adds racial and colonial dimensions that the original’s story did not fully explore.

It also reframes Goro’s desire to prove himself. His hunger for reputation is not just youthful swagger. It comes from living in a society that treats people connected to the Ainu as inferior or disposable. He wants to be seen as somebody in a world eager to reduce him to less than that. Jubei understands this more deeply than he initially lets on. His eventual concern for Goro is shaped not only by friendship but by a recognition that the authorities could use Goro’s participation in the killings as an excuse to punish or target Ainu people more broadly.

Koichi Sato plays the local lawman, the Japanese counterpart to Gene Hackman’s Little Bill. He does not copy Hackman’s performance, which is a smart choice. Hackman’s Little Bill had a bluff, talkative confidence and an almost absurdly casual capacity for brutality. Sato’s version is colder and more calculating, with a distinctly bureaucratic edge. He sees himself as the defender of law and social order, but his version of order is built on intimidation, humiliation, and selective cruelty. He treats the abused woman as a problem, the prostitutes as a nuisance, and anyone outside his preferred hierarchy as someone to be controlled.

The emerging Meiji state may promise progress, but the film refuses to portray it as automatically enlightened. The samurai system’s decline does not erase injustice; it simply gives power a newer, more bureaucratic face. The lawman claims to hate disorder, yet he creates the kind of world where people can only pursue justice through murder because the law refuses to recognize their suffering. That makes him more than a simple villain. He is the embodiment of a new authority that insists it is civilized while using the same old cruelty to keep vulnerable people in their place.

The snowbound Hokkaido landscape gives the movie a visual identity that sets it apart from the dusty Wyoming imagery of the original. The cold, mud, wind, and vast stretches of white make the characters look even more vulnerable and lost. This is not the kind of samurai story built around beautiful duels and graceful swordplay. Lee Sang-il keeps the violence ugly and exhausting. When Jubei finally falls back into the terrifying persona of “Jubei the Killer,” it does not feel like he has rediscovered his true heroic self. It feels like a man surrendering to the worst part of himself because grief, anger, and desperation have burned away his restraint.

The ending closely follows the original in the way it brings Jubei’s buried reputation and frightening capacity for violence back to the surface. The climactic confrontation itself remains broadly faithful to Eastwood’s version, so the remake’s biggest distinction is not really in the setting or moment-to-moment mechanics of the final fight. The more meaningful change comes afterward, in what the film suggests about Jubei’s future once he has once again become “Jubei the Killer.”

Yurusarezaru Mono gives this question more weight through its focus on shame, guilt, and the possibility that some actions cannot be left behind simply because a man has spent years living differently. Jubei built a quieter life with his wife and children in the hope of becoming more than the killer he once was. But revisiting that past, even for reasons the audience can understand, forces him to confront whether he has truly escaped it—or whether he was only temporarily pretending it was gone. The remake’s final variation gives the story a sadder and more personally haunted edge, making Jubei’s past feel less like a legend he can reluctantly put back on and more like a moral burden that may have permanently separated him from the life he tried to build.

Those changes are important because they give Yurusarezaru Mono a distinct identity beyond simply being a Japanese version of a famous American film. The original Unforgiven ends with its own deliberately uneasy ambiguity. This remake reaches a similarly tragic, morally unsettled place, but it does so through the specific burdens of early-Meiji Hokkaido: the decline of the samurai, the oppression of the Ainu, and the false promise that modernization automatically means justice. The result is an ending that honors the emotional power of Eastwood’s film while still finding its own voice.

Ultimately, Yurusarezaru Mono works because it understands that Unforgiven was never only about the American West. It was about the myths societies build around violent men, the damage hidden by those myths, and the painful impossibility of separating a person from what he has done. By placing that story in early-Meiji Hokkaido, adding the history and oppression of the Ainu people, and revising key elements of the final act, Lee Sang-il’s film becomes more than a competent remake. It is a serious reinterpretation of a great Western through the lens of Japan’s own fading warrior mythology, colonial violence, and troubled modern identity.

Horror Review: Cold Fish (dir. by Sion Sono)


“Life is pain.” — Nobuyuki Syamoto

Unflinching, subversive, and dripping in corrosive dark humor, Sion Sono’s Cold Fish (2010) doesn’t just showcase Japan’s taste for genre-bending horror—it rips open the underbelly of polite society and exposes what writhes beneath. If I Saw the Devil was a descent into the abyss of revenge, Cold Fish is a fever-dream trek through manipulation, depravity, and the most repressed corners of the psyche. Built around the crucible of violence and sex, Sono’s film dares viewers to question not only the shape of evil, but whether the forces that awaken it could be lurking in anyone.

Before Cold Fish, Sono had already established himself as a subversive force in horror with his earlier film Suicide Club (2001), which helped him gain a loyal cult following and introduced him to the genre scene at large as an innovative and provocative filmmaker unafraid to challenge conventions. With Cold Fish, Sono refined his style, offering a tighter, more psychologically driven narrative that accelerates the intensity while probing deep societal anxieties.

Inspired by the real-life Saitama serial murders of the 1990s, committed by dog breeder Gen Sekine and his common-law wife Hiroko Kazama, Cold Fish draws chilling authenticity from these events. Sekine and Kazama ran a pet shop and poisoned several customers before dismembering their bodies to conceal the murders. Sono reimagines this disturbing history by transforming the pet shop into a tropical fish store and fictionalizing details while preserving the core themes of manipulation, complicity, and violence.

The story opens with Nobuyuki Syamoto, the definition of a beaten-down everyman: a tropical fish shop owner whose daughter openly hates her stepmother, whose marriage is half-drowned in silent resentment, and who drifts through life as little more than a shadow. From the outset, Syamoto’s passivity sets a tremulous undertone—terrible things are happening, but he isn’t doing much to stop them. That changes the moment his daughter Mitsuko is caught stealing and rescued by the charismatic Yukio Murata, proprietor of a flashier fish store. Murata’s manners and generosity are overwhelming, almost caricatured, yet there’s an edge of anticipation: something is amiss, and Sono lets the feeling gradually curdle beneath his gentle facade.

Murata’s initial charm morphs into coercive control as he manipulates the Syamoto family into his orbit. When Syamoto is coerced to become Murata’s “business partner,” the narrative takes its first graphic, kinetic turn: a sales pitch for a rare tropical fish goes lethally wrong. Murata poisons a buyer in cold blood, then erupts into violence, forcing Syamoto and his wife into complicity by helping dispose of the body. The shift is immediate and nightmarish—the performance by Denden (Murata) snaps from quirky salesman to a near-mythical monster, as terrifying for his unpredictability as for his casual approach to killing.

From here, Cold Fish dives into a spiral of murder, sexual domination, and psychological torture. Murata and his partner Aiko have murdered dozens, perfecting the art of erasing their victims. As the body count rises, Sono’s camera remains hauntingly restrained: eschewing frantic cuts for long takes, keeping his characters center-frame, locking viewers in Syamoto’s dread-soaked POV. We are forced to witness every mechanical step in the pair’s routine—the body disposal, the literal scattering of ashes, the casual cruelty.

What makes Cold Fish such a disturbing experience is not merely the gore (though the final act is blood-soaked chaos), but the way deviance is normalized, even made bureaucratic. Murata’s operation feels part nightmare, part dull corporate job. This banality breeds horror. At times, Sono punctuates scenes with black comedy: surf rock tunes play in the background as mutilated bodies are processed in Murata’s shop, and his wife’s participation has a twisted, deadpan humor that makes the violence doubly unsettling.

Syamoto’s trajectory is the film’s secret weapon. By trapping us in his perspective, Sono draws out the uncomfortable reality of learned helplessness, craven compromise, and the latent violence beneath a repressive facade. Syamoto isn’t a hero or anti-hero, but a study in desperation and dissolution. His initial submission slowly ferments into rage, and when he finally snaps, the violence is primal and cathartic—a vengeance that feels less like triumph and more like an act of obliteration. Instead of a neat moral arc, Sono’s script is obsessed with the ambiguity of retribution: what festers beneath apathy, what trauma does when left unaddressed, and what the need to act breeds when suppressed for too long.

This thematic preoccupation connects Cold Fish to the likes of I Saw the Devil: both movies use revenge not as justice, but as a mirror for corruption—how far can the ordinary man go before he becomes indistinguishable from the monsters tormenting him? Sono’s film is ultimately more nihilistic, using social commentary as a subtle undertow, with critiques of Japanese conformity, sexuality, and family decaying beneath the surface. The result is a film that is both emotionally exhausting and intellectually provocative.

Technically, Cold Fish offers Sono at his most focused. The cinematography is subtle but relentless, with natural camera movement amplifying character reactions rather than indulging in spectacle. The use of Mount Fuji as a backdrop for scenes of violence is striking and effective. Costume, color palette, and setting all speak of an ordinary world slowly overtaken by surreal terror. The score plays off these moments, with music choices ranging from nervy tension to surf-rock irony.

The performances are uniformly superb. Denden is magnetic as Murata—making each mood shift obvious, unpredictable, and horrifying. Mitsuru Fukikoshi’s portrayal of Syamoto is raw, fragile, and ultimately explosive. The supporting cast amplifies the film’s extremes without ever feeling cartoonish. Sono pushes them to the edge, finding both tragedy and queasy humor in their unraveling. The sound design, especially in scenes of dismemberment and violence, is overwhelming and intense—forcing the audience into a sensory trap that mirrors Syamoto’s psychological implosion.

Yet Cold Fish isn’t just an exercise in gore or cruelty—it’s an autopsy of repression, cowardice, and compulsion, watched through the lens of a culture known for its traditions of obedience. The film asks what drives people to murder, what keeps them silent, and what happens when those limits are breached. It never gives viewers easy sympathies or clean answers, and the ending is deliberately unnerving—Syamoto’s transformation is complete, but it isn’t heroic, nor is it redemptive.

For some, the film’s length and relentless tone will be too much. Others have pointed out its over-the-top final act, and some feel the excessive violence is hard to justify. However, these very qualities are what cement Cold Fish as a significant work in contemporary Japanese horror—it’s the sort of movie that claws at you for days, sticking in the brain with its grim humor and powerful sense of unease. Like I Saw the Devil, it’s less about catharsis than about exposing the permanent scars left by evil and revenge, and the horrifying possibility that what lurks under the surface of normality is just waiting for an invitation to come out.

Ultimately, Sion Sono’s Cold Fish is an important piece of modern horror—not simply for its brutality, but for its relentless psychological excavation and perverse humor. By channeling the real Saitama serial murders into a study of psychological torment and complicity, Sono creates a film that is designed to provoke, to disturb, and to make audiences ask where the boundaries of morality might finally break. For genre fans, it’s a bracing, unforgettable experience; for those who approach with caution, it’s both a warning and an invitation to glimpse the heart of darkness just beneath the surface.

A Yakuza Apocalypse Is Upon Us


Yakuza Apocalypse

Takashi Miike.

That name conjures up so much many different reactions. Miike has earned the reputation as one of the most dangerous filmmakers currently working. His has dabbled in so many different genres that one could never put a finger on which one he’s best at.

He’s done gangster epics, splatterpunk horror, psychological horror, kid’s fantasy, horror-comedy musical, dark fantasy, samurai period piece right up to video game adaptations. You name the film genre and he’s probably done one or two of it.

His latest, Yakuza Apocalypse, doesn’t really need to be described other than it has yakuza gangsters, vampires, martial arts and giant frog master (the final scene in the trailer makes this film worth the price of admission).

Yakuza Apocalypse made it’s premiere in Japan this past June 20, 2015 and should make the genre film festivals the rest of the year.