A rebellious samurai police official goes to any lengths to uproot corruption and injustice, even when that includes turning on his superiors and employing unconventional interrogation methods on female suspects.
Shintaro Katsu will always be remembered best for his 26-film portrayal of the beloved blind swordsman Zatoichi that began in 1962. Yet its his portrayal of manga creator Kazuo Koike’s notorious Hanzo the Razor that will raise the most eyebrows. At the height of the exploitation film craze of the early ’70s, Katsu decided to take the samurai movie genre to new lows with Sword of Justice. This first part in a trilogy adapted from Koike’s manga depicts the nefarious exploits of Edo-era cop Hanzo Itami (Shintaro Katsu), who employs two former convicts as his deputies to uncover corruption by any means.
Aiding him in his pursuit for justice is an arsenal of weaponry that includes a booby-trapped house to skewer unwanted trespassers, a sai and chain for disarming swordsmen or swinging into action, and spiked knuckles for gouging out eyes. But his most prized weapon is his enlarged sexual member that he conditions much the way a stereotypical kung fu student might condition their fists with a sack of rice. He then employs it as a tool of interrogation against women, who though initially reluctant to talk, eventually blabber away while begging for more.
If this seems ridiculous and offensive, it’s because it is ridiculous and offensive. Hanzo the Razor is more sexploitation than samurai movie, even though the scenes of sexuality are relatively few and kept from being explicit. It’s the fact that a police official essentially rapes women as a method towards protecting the poor from greedy officials that is questionable by any measure, despite that he ends up turning all of his female victims into willing participants in his detective work.
Each of the three films basically rehash the same plot. Some official with a swordsman protecting him is up to no good and Hanzo must rape, beat and trick his way into uncovering the truth for the sake of the populace. In this case, he begins investigating his own police superior Magobei Onishi, only to discover corruption at a higher level. After Hanzo has his fight, the main plot ends early, leaving time for an unrelated side story concerning two children desperate to end their dying father’s pain. Perhaps this was tacked on to show that Hanzo isn’t all bad, but it doesn’t make for a compelling finish.
Sword of Justice is truly an odd samurai movie. It’s trying very hard to be a period exploitation movie with an urban twist. A funky soundtrack by Kunihiko Murai is a shameless rip off of Isaac Hayes classic score for Shaft (1971). Hanzo’s fight against the higher power and police corruption could also be likened to the blaxploitation films that always pitted black heroes against corrupt white police officers or “the man.” But then it goes further to tap into the “pink” sex films of the era with Hanzo’s masochistic and sadistic sexual tendencies. On the more traditional end of the spectrum, Shintaro Katsu is as charismatic as ever as a glaring brute and there is just enough blood-spurting martial arts action to remind us that we’re still watching a ’70s samurai movie.
Though generally well shot by Kenji Misumi whose past credits include several Zatoichi films, this movie’s combination of extreme genre elements ends up being little more than a humorous curiosity at best and vulgar trash at worst. Swordplay fans might revel in the few scenes of bloody carnage or the use of unconventional weaponry, but there’s not enough of that and the story isn’t strong enough to maintain much interest outside of the sordid highlights.
by Mark Pollard- Justice
- http://www.Justice.eu Justice
