Ishiro Honda's relentlessly grim, genre-bending thriller about mutant mushroom people issued me a challenge that I may have failed: Once the dangerously addictive mushrooms and their hybrid-human progeny arrived in the film, I rapidly lost my ability to think about anything else going on in the story. Much of MATANGO is a grimy, downbeat survival horror narrative about a group of people stranded on a desert island, a circumstance that causes their humanity to fall away, as does the malignant fungus that is their only source of food…and like, I don't mean to cast aspersions on the compelling script or any of the fine performances in this film, but I very much relate to the compulsive desires of the hungry cast of characters: More mushrooms! MORE MUSHROOM PEOPLE!
I'd put a spoiler alert on this review (if you're reading it on Letterboxd then I actually did), but when a movie starts out with someone reflecting on their experience from a mental institution, you already know it's going to get dark. Sensitive university professor Kenji Murai (Akira Kubo) reflects on the events that left him in such a place, beginning with an ill-fated outing on a yacht belonging to arrogant celebrity Masafumi Kasai (Yoshio Tsuchiya). The passengers are a mix of spoiled intellectuals and entertainers who stand in stark contrast to the sneering, fed-up crew of the ship, and the obvious tensions between them all boil over quickly when a storm strands them on a remote island where food is scarce. They take up residence in a beached spy ship that holds evidence of an experimental fungus which, it soon becomes clear, is slowly taking over the island, causing madness and mutation in anyone who dares to take a bite. This gang would have had no trouble turning on each other in any case, but the mushroom madness certainly doesn't help.
Make no mistake, there's a lot going on in MATANGO subtextually: The hapless survivors are ultimately the victims of international espionage efforts that spawned the killer fungus, which identifies war as the ultimate culprit, much as it is in Ishiro Honda's masterpiece GODZILLA. In fact, it's worth mentioning that the film was nearly banned in its homeland due to the resemblance of some of the mid-mutation makeup to the disfiguring injuries of atomic bomb survivors; even if this was coincidental, it's pretty affecting. There is also a lot to say about class tensions in MATANGO, as hostilities mount between the yacht's passengers, who get to think and play for a living, and the sailors who enable their pleasure cruise. Honda has further noted that the 1963 movie reflected on the rise of a drug-fueled counterculture, using the all-consuming mushrooms as a general-purpose metaphor for the ravages of addiction. But all that said…you gotta love the mushrooms. They're so great.
Production designer Shigekagi Ikuno (also responsible for the beautiful LAKE OF DRACULA) does a handy job of entrapping the viewer in the claustrophobic, mold-caked world of MATANGO, and he's at his best in the psychedelic mushroom forest at the heart of the island. Conceptual artist Shigeru Komatsuzaki completes the picture with his fabulous mutant designs, perhaps a little too well, as once I laid eyes on them shambling across the set, they took up all of my attention. They're just so cool-looking, plus who wouldn't want to live in their funky little forest with the fairy lights all around it? Actually, the one thing that's missing from MATANGO is an explanation of the disadvantages of turning into a mushroom. When we eventually return to the mental institution where the sole survivor resides, he ruminates on whether he shouldn't have just given in and stayed on the island. (He also makes some salient remarks about his own moral failings that may be reflective of Ishiro Honda's dim view of human nature, but I won't spoil them here) Everybody there seemed to be having a good time; sure, they were high on shrooms, but maybe permanently tripping and leaving humanity behind isn't such a bad thing. The vampy Kumi Mizuno looks like she really enjoyed her psychotropic snacks, which were made from rice pastry for the production by a local shop who added fun flavors just because they liked the actress so much. The attractive colors and the look on her face when she ate them really made me want one. Hell, I want one right now!
A Taxing Woman's Return by #JuzoItami, "Just as long but not as juicy as its predecessor",
JUZO ITAMI
Bil’s rating (out of 5): BB.5
Original Title: Marusa no onna 2
Japan, 1988. Itami Productions. Screenplay by Jûzô Itami. Cinematography by Yonezô Maeda. Produced by Seigo Hosogoe, Yasushi Tamaoki. Music by Toshiyuki Honda. Production Design by Shûshi Nakamura. Costume Design by Emiko Kogo. Film Editing by Akira Suzuki.
The success of 1987’s A Taxing Woman inspired director Juzo Itami…
It would be strange to write a journal entry without touching on this matter, so I'll just take a moment to talk seriously.
Personally, I'm not experiencing feelings like loneliness or pain. To say I feel nothing at all would be wrong, but it's not as strong as I expected. This is the passing of someone whose works I've been reading since childhood, a senior colleague who was published in the same magazine as me, and also someone I am deeply influenced by, so it's a different sensation compared to how I would typically deal with death. But it's for this very reason that it feels like I'm not experiencing those emotions.
I've never really mentioned this to anyone, but since long ago, I've always believed that creating something is a way of extending one's own sensibilities and a way to extend one's own life. This is because I believe that in the same way, the author is not dead as long as the work exists. And I think that being able to truly embody this sensation is evidence of the sheer magnitude of the presence of the works which live on within me.
That's all. From the next post, I will carry on with my usual spirits.