Female Prisoner: Scorpion

Title: Female Prisoner: Scorpion
Rating: 4/5
Genre: Drama, Thriller, Crime
Starring: Meiko Kaji, Rie Yokoyama, Isao Natsuyagi
Director: Shunya Ito
Language: Japanese

It was the 70s that saw the rise in Japanese grindhouse cinema (also known as ‘Pinky Violence); tired of the very ‘traditional’ style of many local films, and with the rise in success of Hollywood titles such as ‘Dirty Harry’ and ‘The Great Escape,’ a new wave of daring and experimental directors came to light. Armed with a low budget and all the influences of the early Western grindhouse cheap gore flicks, they combined it with traditional Japanese film-making sensibilities to create a style that somehow succeeded in being both artistic in style whilst retaining those cheap traditions such as gratuitous nudity and violence to result in something rather unique.

And it was with this, the first instalment in the ‘Female Prisoner’ series, that would influence a wave known as ‘Women in Prison’ films; with a strong theme of undercutting vengeance, the setting proved perfect to display sadistic prison wardens, gratuitous violence and more pairs of Asian breasts than ever before. What makes this film rather unique, however, is that not only was it amongst the first, but it also displayed an intriguing plot that would set up the anti-hero of Matsushima (later known as the local legend ‘Scorpion’), delving into her past and exploring the character in a realistic manner. This isn’t just cheap gore for the sake of it, nor is it some sort of softcore porno; this is a style that has only recently seen resurgence in popularity and with no Western equivalent, it combines female anti-heroes in a dramatic thriller of a vengeance tale.

Following the tale of Matsushima (Kaji), we explore her past and how she came to be a resident of the woman’s prison. Madly in love with police officer ‘Sugimi,’ she agrees to help him by infiltrating a yakuza gang and expose them. Cruelly set up by the corrupt officer, she goes mad with rage and is arrested attempting to kill him. Refusing to testify against him, Sugimi soon considers her a liability and recruits devious Katagiri (Yokoyama) to ‘accidentally’ kill her. Caught in the clutches of the sadistic police warden (Natsuyagi), fighting against the other in-mates to survive she embarks on her journey to escape from the nightmare in which she dwells in order to finish what she began.

It is the character played by Kaji that draws much of the attention – quickly rising to the status of ‘cult icon,’ to influence a variety of characters from the lead in ‘Lady Vengeance’ to the bride from ‘Kill Bill,’ (even singing the theme tune for this series, later to be used in Kill Bill) – without ever saying a word she displays an incredible determined glance, never flinching providing a respectful strength that makes you root for this apprehensible character. Perfectly performed, this strength at no point feels superhuman; she still flinches when pricked, recoils when attacked and tires when forced to do back breaking labour, and yet whilst she is there for a reason, you still root for her to succeed in her quest.

And yet this story wouldn’t be half as enjoyable if not for the wealth of support she receives, from the memorable sadism of the prison warden, the cook who garnered delight in her torture and the show-stealing smile of Katagiri, softly killing you with a devious smile. The action is cheap, and the effects everything we could expect from a film over 35 years old. The subtle political suggestions as to the womens liberation from a patriarchal Japan (watch for the flag), as well as the gore and nudity is always in advancement of the plot – to show humiliation of a character or the hardships that must be endured – and the result is a beautiful masterpiece of vigilante justice. I went into this film dubious of the outcome, but this has exceeded my expectations; colliding art-house with grind-house, forget the modern western exploitation films – the ‘saw’ and ‘hostel’ films – because this film is superior in every way.