Despite an escalation of violence and explicit nudity, Japanese cinema, like their American counterparts, was still losing the battle to television at the dawn of the 1970s, and losing badly at winning the hearts and minds and wallets of audiences.
And while fabled studios like Nikkatsu had abandoned any pretensions and went full softcore Roman Porno (Romance Porn), rival studio Toei fought on and found a modicum of success by amping up the violence and nudity even more.
And not only that, but Toei would also abandon traditional Japanese themes of honor and tradition and proper gender roles for the more brutal approach of Kinji Fukasaku’s epic treatise Battles Without Honor and Humanity (alias Jingi Naki Tatakai,1973), producer Kanji Amao's line of Pinku eiga (Pinky Violence) films, tales of vengeance fueled by the likes of Reiko Ike and Miki Sugimoto, and Shunya Itō’s scream into the void Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion (alias Joshū Nana-maru-ichi Gō / Sasori, 1972).
Seems when Nikkatsu switched gears to skin-flicks it also saw an exodus of talent; one of those being rising star Meiko Kaji, who had lit-up the box-office with Blind Woman’s Curse (alias Kaidan Nobori Ryū, 1970) and the delinquent bad-girl-centric Stray Cat Rock series (1970-1971), which Toei had hoped would continue by plugging Meiko into a proposed adaptation of Tōru Shinohara’s popular women-in-prison manga, Sasori (alias Scorpion).
However, things got off to a very rocky start as the assigned novice director Itō wasn't all that impressed with Meiko as an actress and felt she was completely wrong for the part. Their first pre-production meeting was a complete disaster.
But luckily for film fans everywhere, despite the initial rancor behind the scenes, things eventually worked themselves out onscreen as the director and actress delivered a deliriously awesome cocktail of sex, violence, female empowerment, and social commentary wrapped in bun of surrealistic artistry and striking visuals.
Not quite Pinky Violence and not quite Roman Porno, this inaugural entry sets the tone to come with a distinct authority seldom seen from a first time director. And while Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion definitely has the salacious, exploitative sheen of a women-in-prison flick on the surface, you don't have to dig too deep into the nudity, cat-fights, and lesbian interludes to see there's a lot more going on as the film rails against entrenched corruption and the abuse of power.
Of course, all of that is wrapped around the tale of a prisoner, Nami “Matsu” Matsushima (Meiko), who was set-up by Sugimi (Natsuyagi), a crooked police detective. Used as bait in a drug-bust to eliminate his competitors it goes sideways -- so sideways an enraged Nami tries to kill him after. She fails, and the girl is arrested and sentenced to jail, much to Sugimi’s amusement.
Inside the prison walls, for trying to kill a police officer, our heroine is subjected to all kinds of torture and abuse from the guards and the sadistic warden, Goda (Watanabe). But Matsu also gets it from her fellow inmates and trustees, too, when her many escape attempts to get revenge on the man who railroaded her results in punishment for all.
Thus, as Matsu’s few friends are stripped away, along with her humanity, she slowly transforms into the Scorpion. And when one of Goda’s group punishments backfires, resulting in a riot and a prolonged stand-off, Matsu manages one more escape and systematically takes out Sugimi’s narcotics ring, leading to a final fatal showdown with the man who betrayed her, who also happens to be the man she loves.
With her transformation from naïve waif to hardcore killing machine, with such minimal dialogue, watching Meiko Kaji’s performance is both incredible and a privilege as she constantly turns the tables on her tormentors; all stepping stones on the road to her ultimate revenge. I’m telling ya, her silent death glare could vaporize glacial ice.
Itō would freely admit he was mistaken about Meiko. The director put her through all kinds of hell during filming, which the actress never backed away from, earning his deep respect. And the mesmerizing results on film are just brutal, visceral, and visually stunning as Ito's influences range from German silent expressionism to the avant-garde weirdness of Luis Buñuel. I love how Matsu draws a blade across her eyes, with tears for blood, signaling that vengeance is coming -- like the hand swipe that turns the giant stone golem to a vengeful demon in Daimajin (1966).
There’s also the anything goes nuttery of Seijun Suzuki's Tokyo Drifter (alias Tōkyō nagaremono, 1966) and Branded to Kill (alias Koroshi no Rakuin); the hard shell candy colors of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger; to the wild camera angles of William Dozier's TV version of Batman (1966-1968).
As the legend goes, when the film was finished, Toei executives weren’t thrilled with the end result and were on the verge of just shelving Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion indefinitely; but a wild raid and sit-in at a hotel occupied by the brass led by Itō turned things around.
Originally intended as a B-picture, the film proved such a big hit it was quickly moved to the top of the bill to cash-in. Thus, the film that almost didn’t happen -- or not as we’ve come to know it, left audiences clamoring for more. And Toei was quick to answer, reuniting Itō and Meiko for the follow up feature, Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (1972). Coming soon!
Originally posted on on July 31, 2016, at Micro-Brewed Reviews.
Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion (1972) Toei Company / P: Kineo Yoshimine / D: Shun'ya Itô / W: Fumio Kônami, Hirô Matsuda, Tooru Shinohara (Manga) / C: Hanjirô Nakazawa / E: Osamu Tanaka / M: Shunsuke Kikuchi / S: Meiko Kaji, Rie Yokoyama, Yayoi Watanabe, Yôko Mihara, Akemi Negishi
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