Battle Royale

バトル・ロワイアル Kinji Fukasaku, (2000)

Madman Films have recently released a reissue of Kinji Fukasaku’s notoriously controversial cult classic Battle Royale, quite possibly to coincide with the release of the film The Hunger Games, which, from what I understand (which really isn’t all that much to be honest) is a borderline rip off of Fukasaku’s modern classic.

Based on Koushun Takami’s novel, Battle Royale is one of my favourite films of all time. A short prologue sets the scene; at the beginning of the new millennium, Japanese society collapsed, with thousands of people out of work and students boycotting school. This state of emergency quickly led to the passing of the government sanctioned “Battle Royale Act”, in which a class of students is selected each year to fight each other to the death on a desert island under adult supervision. The last one alive wins. While I do wish that this economic and societal context was established a bit more, it hardly matters. It is just the kind of vague B-movie set up that serves to get us into the meat of the story. At first glance, Battle Royale is nothing but a pulpy exercise in gratuitous violence, however, there is much more beneath the surface. Characters are quite well established, often through flashbacks, and come across as very believable Japanese schoolkids, often confused and clinging to their school crushes and grudges. Fukasaku creates a world not so far removed from modern Japanese society and reflects the breakdown between youth and adults. The two are often shown in absolute opposition to each other, unable to connect, with familial or pedagogical relationships often strained or downright bizarre.

A scary psychological aspect also comes into play through the behaviour of the students. Upon hearing the rules and premise of the battle, some refuse outright to participate, killing themselves in defiance, while others jump at the chance to settle old scores amongst classmates. Fukasaku appears to condemn the modern Japanese society that has brought about this state of affairs, taking sides with the youth, portraying them as resourceful, loyal and strong, while the adults appear as weak authoritarian figures, unworthy of and unable to gain the youth’s respect.

Each time I watch this film I realise more and more how melodramatic it is, but it is perfectly justified, as it remains in keeping with the film’s overt B-movie premise and aesthetic. In fact, it is this unashamed pulpiness that elevates this film to something far beyond a B-movie. You can expect dreamlike flashbacks, awkward teenage professions of love and over the top death scenes (splattered generously with blood throughout). These melodramatic elements could easily prove to be too much, but Fukasaku’s cast of youths, (many of whom have since gone on to much larger success) create a wide range of interesting characters that collectively create the film’s all important “Class B”. Takeshi Kitano fills the position of the main adult role, as the class’ cold and brutal teacher. It is this negative portrayal of the adults and their society which often creates much of the film’s black humour, one example that comes to mind is the video the students are forced to watch, which explains in a stereotypically overenthusiastic Japanese game-show style, the rules of the game.

This prolific director Fukasaku’s final film. And what a note to end on, summing up his distrust of adults and authority, commenting on modern Japanese society and providing an amazing film that seems intended to speak directly to the youth of today, urging them literally to “Run!”. On top of all this, it is a deliriously violent and exciting wild ride. Madman’s reissue appears to be of the Director’s cut, which adds a few extra scenes and epilogues to the film, however in my opinion, these are largely unnecessary and I would recommend the original cut. Finally, don’t go anywhere near Battle Royale II: Requiem, Fukasaku directed only one scene before his untimely death and the film was completed by his son. It is not a patch on the original.