We have been following Kenichi Ugana‘s career for some years now, with the Japanese having managed a rather impressive feat, by appearing in a number of festivals around the world through the years, despite the fact that his style is distinctly Japanese, and is not involved particularly in co-productions. The rather quirky “The Gesuidouz” is another testament to the fact, as it premiered in Toronto and is now having an extensive festival run.
The Gesuidouz is screening at Jogja-Netpac Asian Film Festival

Hanako has a dream: her horror-themed punk band The Gesuidouz will perform at Glastonbury Festival. Furthermore, she is utterly convinced that she will die at 27, just like her heroes Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain, and being 26, she is quite intent on making her dream come true the year the story starts. Their manager Takamura, however, has nothing but negative comments about the whole group, which includes guitarist Masao, bassist Ryuzo, and drummer Santarou, with the cursing in their interactions essentially being constant. As a last resort, he proposes for them to move in the countryside, compose a new song, and if it’s a hit, he won’t drop them from the record label. Eventually, the group settles in a rural village with no cell phone service.
There are movies where it becomes obvious the director (and occasionally the actors) had as much fun as possible, and “The Gesuidouz” seems to be one of those films for Ugana. In that regard, the main story is relatively thin, with the focus being on characters and (gag) events, and the punk rock music, which essentially fills the movie from beginning to end. The style, intensely reminiscent of Katsuhito Ishii‘s in movies like “Taste of Tea” works quite well for the movie, also allowing for a number of rather serious comments.
The constantly cursing manager, the cheeky, weird and absurd inhabitants of the village, the talking dog named Johnny Cage, the different ethnicities of the group and their interactions all create a surrealistic package that is brought home by the ultra powerful persona of Hanako, whose voice, headbanging, dancing, and requests essentially dictate the pace of the movie. Particularly the transformation she undergoes through the movie, which is also mirrored in her appearance in the ‘last performance’ of the group, is a wonder to watch, with Natsuko giving a truly great performance in that regard.
The talking, quite disgusting tape and its interactions with Takamura add another level of slapstick humor here, while the mockumentary sequences that also appear after a point, cement the aesthetics of a narrative that could easily be described as a collage of ludicrous ideas.
At the same time, the comments about how the music industry works, how the public reacts to the success of various artists, and how inspiration works add a level of context which is cemented by the comment about how the misfits of society can find refuge in music and art in general.
Koichi Furuya’s cinematography captures all the energy that is found here with realism, in a style that highlights the suffocation Hanako feels, but also the beauties of the rural area. Masashi Komino’s editing is occasionally rather fast, occasionally slower, always fitting the narrative to perfection though. Lastly, regarding the acting, Yuya Endo as the despicable manager is as convincing as he is entertaining once more.
Granted, “The Gesuidouz” definitely demands some knack for punk music to be appreciated, and also of the Japanese slapstick style as it has been formed by directors like Katsuhito Ishii and Takashi Miike. For those who appreciate both, however, and for those who manage to throw logic out of the window, the film will definitely be a treat for both eyes and ears.