Disheveled, substance-addled, and violent, former detective Akikazu Fujishima (Koji Yakusho) stumbles through life in a nebulous haze. His existence is quickly characterized as bumbling and hopeless, but his perpetual floundering is given a vague sense of direction when his ex-wife informs him that their daughter, Kanako (Nana Kamatsu), has disappeared. At first, Akikazu can barely remember her face, but as he unmasks the underworld Kanako appears to inhabit, the will to continue his search stems not from a motivation to find and reunite with her, but to punish her for her wrongdoings, even if that means killing her himself. Sinking deeper and deeper into an abyss of corruption, murder, and sexual deviancy, Akikazu begins to embody the odious patriarchal values of a prior generation. He bloodthirstily yearns to chastise his daughter, perhaps not necessarily in response to her actions, but because of a subconscious self-hatred that has manifested within him after years of neglecting her.

On a surface level, this story sounds glaringly familiar: a broken man embarks on an arduous quest with vengeance in his heart. It’s reminiscent of other, more prominent titles in the so-called “Asia Extreme” genre piloted by acclaimed filmmakers such as Takashi Miike (Audition, 13 Assassins) and Park Chan-Wook, who caused the genre to explode overseas with his popular Oldboy in 2003. This new feature by Japanese provocateur Nakashima Tetsuya (Confessions, Kamikaze Girls) is not only chalk-full of nods to Chan-Wook’s seminal film about an emotionally crippled man assembling the scattered pieces of his past, but also references classic titles such as The Searchers in its Fordian regard to reckless patriarchal rage. While Kanako certainly possesses storyline elements that parallel those at work in Confessions, Tetsuya has abandoned his formalist mise en scène for something more painterly and spontaneous. He goes as far as integrating snippets of anime, clips stylized like J-POP videos, and an opening credits sequence rife with comic book action bubbles into his scattershot visual melting pot.

Where Tetsuya occasionally falters is when he pays too much or too little attention to any given element in his seething ocean of cinematic text. One subplot involves a bullied boy (Hiroya Shimizu) in Kanako’s grade who is credited only as “I,” and serves, more or less, as narrator. The development of his infatuation with Kanako undercuts the impact of the predominant themes related through Akikazu’s presence in the narrative. Reveals along the way help illustrate Kanako’s disturbed mental state, but the victimized narrator is never imbued with much more of a purpose than to aid in manufacturing these developments. Additionally, Tetsuya forgets to punctuate his inclusion of a prowling gang of corrupt cops. They tail Akikazu not prompted by duty, but by an acerbic desire to sneer at his continued failures and injuries. Akikazu, with a persistence that often registers as mythic, is frequently shot, stabbed, and beaten throughout the film. One policeman, the hyena-like Detective Asai (Satoshi Tsumabuki), seems particularly amused by our discombobulated protagonist’s pain. As the film heads into its third act, the assumption can be made that Tetsuya is engineering this subplot in an attempt to make a statement about either Japan’s police force or Akikazu’s demons, but the cackling Asai and his robotic enforcers fade out before making an impression that bears much symbolic weight.

Even throughout sequences where his shortcomings are blatant, Tetsuya maintains a kinetic energy paralleled only by the likes of Sion Sono (who evoked a similarly raucous atmosphere in this year’s street gang musical Tokyo Tribe) and the aforementioned genre film zen master, Takashi Miike. The plot unfolds nightmarishly, fragments of horror unveiling themselves as Akikazu grapples with irremediable patriarchal madness. Koji Yakusho, the veteran actor responsible for bringing Akikazu to life, deserves credit for supplying the story with its anchor. He deftly personifies an antihero who consistently demands our attention and endorsement despite his predisposition to be an unforgivably vile human being. The full realization of Akikazu’s character as the central vantage point allows Tetsuya to indulge in a hyper-frenetic sort of mania without disorienting the audience and causing them to abandon their interest in what he has to offer. The World of Kanako, in spite of its focal faults, is a bracingly spontaneous and grippingly horrific descent into the emotional depravity that has the potential to emerge when family ceases to cohere.

The director Takashi Miike, who may be most famous for directing the horror film Audition, is the director of this epic samurai period film. 13 Assassins is set in 1844 toward the end of the Edo era that Tokyo Japan once was, when finding a true samurai warrior was growing more difficult. It is a remake of the 1963 film done by Eiichi Kudo that shares the same title. 13 Assassins is a foreign film whose premise is similar to that of the film 300, but overall they are on a different playing field, this one is much better.

The beginning warns us that Lord Naritsugu Matsudaira (Gorô Inagaki) is sadistic in nature, the warning was nice but grossly understated. Lord Naritsugu is the half-brother of the shogun looking to rise in power. It is not uncommon for him to kick around severed heads and rape anyone he chooses just for fun. In one instance, a victim not only gets their arms and legs amputated but also their tongue.

This is why the noble advisor to the Shogun, Sir Doi (Mikijiro Hira), has plans to assassinate Lord Naritsugu. Doi seeks out help from one of the last true samurai, Shinzaemon Shimada (Kôji Yakusho), and to gather another dozen samurai warriors to join him on his quest.

For better and for worse, the film gives a background story on each one of the recruits. The result of this provides good character understanding and development but also makes the first hour of the film go by fairly slow. Some people may not be able to handle that first hour and that fact that it is all subtitled does not help matters but if you enjoy epic battle scenes enough, your patience will be rewarded.

The group of 12 samurai warriors are willing to gamble their lives in order to prevent Lord Naritsugu from ascending to the throne and bringing the entire country into a war zone. Because the title conveniently states the number of assassins, we know that the group of 12 will eventually find one more. They unexpectedly find the last assassin on their journey through a thick Japanese forest. Koyata (Yûsuke Iseya) is a hunter who does not believe in the samurai code but is a natural born fighter. He provides comic relief to an otherwise completely serious toned film, which I think really helped it. I am not sure if it was Miike’s intention but Koyata ended up being the one you care about the most even though he may seem like an afterthought at first.

Odds are not in these 13 assassin’s favor and they know that going in. They choose to fortify a small town that they believe Lord Naritsugu and his men will pass. Like a chess game, they carefully plan out each move in order to defeat their opponent. The assassins soon find out that Lord Naritsugu brings 200 of his men to fight, thus begins the 13 versus 200 battle between good and evil.

Basically the entire film is a set up for the one large epic battle at the end. This battle is undeniably amazing and extends close to 45 minutes in length. To choreograph fight sequences for that length must have been a grueling task. However, it did feel like we had to sit through each one of the nearly 200 deaths. Although the film finds a few clever ways, there are only so many different ways you can skill someone with swords so by the end it felt monotonous.

In an addition to that excellent fight sequence there are a few memorable subtexts and metaphors. The best and most obvious one comes when an assassin tells Lord Naritsugu that he is just like his sword he carries, decorated and only for show. The overall theme of 13 Assassins is the dedication of one’s life that the traditional samurai code demands.

There a couple of scenes that seemed out of place slightly, however, there are two different versions of the film and I believed I watched the international copy which has a few scenes cut for a shorter runtime. I will admit I did not fully understand one of the assassin’s death. After watching the film, you should know which one I am talking about, however, going into too much detail may give away some spoilers. There is a chance I missed something fairly obvious but I would like to assume that most people will be a little perplexed as well.

It would be tough to argue that 13 Assassins is not a terrific samurai film and that it is easily one of the better ones made within the last 5 to 7 years. Having said that, samurai films in general do not typically interest me all that much. That is why for me the film is good not great. However, the fact that I can enjoy it does prove that the film stands out among its kind.