In a dystopian Tokyo, 23 “tribes” (read: gangs) rule different sections of the city. These tribes range from the GiraGira Girls, a group of women including a whip-cracking dominatrix, to the Musashino Saru, a gang all about promoting peace and love. But it’s the Bukuro Wu-Ronz running everything, and their leader Big Buppa (Takeuchi Riki) is not to be messed with. Mera, one of Bukuro Wu-Ronz’s top members, starts a feud with Musashino Saru heads Tera (Ryuta Sato) and Kai (Young Dais), and the battle soon spins out of control, involving every other tribe in an epic battle to become the most powerful in the city. And did I mention it’s a hip-hop musical? Welcome to the insane world of Sion Sono and Tokyo Tribe.

But that’s not all! There’s also the presence of Sunmi (Nana Seino), a mysterious girl dragged into the gang conflict with some serious fighting skills. In fact, a lot of the cast can fight really well. This also happens to be a highly kinetic action film, with numerous fight scenes placed in between the rap songs sung by the massive cast. Sometani Shota provides help for viewers as the film’s MC, walking around scenes rapping exposition about different tribes and their feuds with other gangs. Just don’t bother actually trying to understand what the hell is going on, though. Tokyo Tribe is so dense and convoluted there are already 50 other things occurring the minute after a scene ends.

The density and hyperactivity of Sono’s style prove his film’s biggest strength and weakness. Sono, working with what looks like his biggest budget to date, packs as much as he possibly can into each frame. His shots are more ambitious, letting things play out in long, elaborate single takes, the camera moving all over the place. The set design is on a whole other level compared to Sono’s previous films as well, with so many elaborately designed locations for each tribe. And Sono never takes a moment to breathe, whipping back and forth between places, stuffing each one with as many extras and activity as possible, all while putting the camera right in the middle of it. It’s exhilarating, but at the same time incredibly exhausting

Trying to watch Tokyo Tribe for its story, nothing more than a standard gangster epic with a message about community, won’t maximize the amount of shock and joy Sono throws around on-screen. It’s the quirks and little moments that work best. Like Big Buppa’s son having a room where people act as his furniture. Or a massive karate fighter wishing someone a happy birthday as they punch them 50 feet in the air (one of the fighter’s only lines: “Take me! To! A sauna!”). Or an army tank driving around Tokyo blowing shit up. Tokyo Tribe is full of these kinds of insane, world-building moments, most of them hilariously original and bonkers beyond belief.

And even though Sono’s restlessness can get tiring at times, it doesn’t take away from the utter brilliance of Tokyo Tribe. No one injects more insanity and ideas into their films on a moment-by-moment basis the way Sono does. It was hard to imagine how Sono could outdo his previous film Why Don’t You Play in Hell?, but with Tokyo Tribe he’s outdone himself completely, and by successfully taking on musicals he feels unstoppable. With a propulsive, catchy score, Tokyo Tribe doesn’t have to try to be energetic. It breathes vivaciousness. Tokyo Tribe will leave viewers dazed, assaulted, and mortified, but by the end they’ll be begging for more.

A version of this review was originally published as part of our coverage of the 2014 Toronto International Film Festival.

The plight of the teenage girl has been a staple for filmmakers for decades. Despite occasional attempts at changing the scenery in these films (the summer camp of 1980’s Little Darlings, the beauty pageant circuit of 1999’s Drop Dead Gorgeous, the rock-and-roll tour bus of 1982’s Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains), the most popular setting for the drama, angst, love, humor, chaos, friendship, and countless other things teen girls experience has been, and forever will be, school. The greatest teen girl films—films like 1988’s Heathers, 1995’s Clueless, and 2004’s Mean Girls, to name three—are all set in schools. This setting works so well because schools present natural opportunities for drama, angst, love, and other feelings. Throw in raging hormones, and you have near-endless narrative potential.

The latest entry that offers a learning institution as its backdrop, and features all the teenage girl backbiting of an American contemporary, comes from Japan: Mamoru Oshii’s Nowhere Girl (Tôkyô Mukokuseki Shôjo).

Ai (Nana Seino) is the misfit at her all-girl art school. She is so distant from her classmates, it’s difficult to tell if she suffers from crippling shyness or offensive aloofness, something that does her no favors in making friends. She is also far more talented than her classmates, which earns her special treatment by the school’s faculty. That special treatment includes allowing Ai to leave her classes to work on a secret art project.

This trio of factors—aloofness, talent, and preferential treatment—makes Ai the target of routine schoolgirl bullying. She rises above it, but as the harassment grows, and as one professor in particular shows his exhaustion with Ai’s special treatment, she begins to show signs she has other—more violent—talents.

If only her talents had manifested themselves earlier in the film. Even at a trim 85 minutes, Nowhere Girl is an arduous watch, suffocating under the director’s heavy-handed desire for soft, blanched, lingering shots set mostly to a placid piano score. This is the pace and tenor of the film’s first two acts. Scenes of an art class becomes watching paint dry, a character’s ponding becomes watching someone do nothing, and the uneventful becomes downright mundane. All set against the backdrop of too-soft whites and muted hues. It’s reminiscent of something from the eye of Nicolas Winding Refn, if Refn were forbidden from using color.

Visual style and pace aren’t the only problems that plague Nowhere Girl. The story, from Kentarô Yamagishi (original story) and Kei Yamamura (screenplay), is distinctly similar to another classic troubled teen-girl-centric film, 1976’s Carrie. Parallels are there (a misfit teen with mysterious abilities just can’t fit in and eventually snaps), and even the trailer suggests inspiration from the Brian De Palma film, but the story never congeals and thus is never propelled to the same places as Carrie. In fact, it’s never propelled anywhere. Dialogue, events, and character peculiarities in the first two acts are so vague, they confuse. It’s mostly made clear in the third act—to call it a “twist” is to dangle toes on the fringe of the literal meaning—but not due to deft storytelling tying it all together. Rather, there’s a sense of obligation that comes across in how it’s explained in (literally) the film’s final minutes. This movie gets the ending it wants, but it doesn’t earn that ending.

As for the meat of the third act, it is gloriously violent and the highlight of the film, with breathtaking fight choreography, intricate blocking and editing, and plenty of crimson to make a mess of all those bland settings. This is where Seino shines. While she is quite good as the despondent student in the film’s early stages, her physical presence is tremendous. The bloody fight sequence is a long one that incorporates gun, blade, and martial arts combat. The actress is up to the challenge, showing a physical deftness that rivals the skills of any modern-day action counterparts. It is highly stylized violence (in keeping with Asian action tradition), and it includes some of the best uses for human shields I’ve seen on film. Once the dust settles, it’s hard to believe the cute and quiet star is capable of packing such a punch, but pack it she does. Unfortunately, no other cast member is particularly memorable, which allows Seino to stand out all the more, but does nothing for the film overall.

Nowhere Girl is a victim of its own design. With a threadbare plot and no character development to speak of, Mamoru Oshii may have had little choice but to take the form-over-function approach. Sadly, instead of creating any sense of tension or atmosphere with his lingering lens, the director presents an exercise in tolerance for the viewer.

Nowhere Girl had its world premiere at Montreal’s Fantasia Film Festival on July 21st. To find out more about the festival, visit http://www.fantasiafestival.com