Screened as part of NZIFF 2001

Electric Dragon 80,000 V 2000

Directed by Ishii Sogo

Japan In Japanese with English subtitles
53 minutes 35mm / B&W

Director, Screenplay

Production Co

Suncent CinemaWorks/Taki Corp

Producer

Sento Takinori

Photography

Kasamatsu Norimichi

Editor

Kakesu Syuichi

Production Designer

Isomi Toshihiro

Visual Effects Supervisor

Koga Nobuaki

Sound

Obara Yoshiya

Music

Onogawa Hiroyuki

With

Asano Takenori (Dragon Eye Morrison)
,
Nagase Masatoshi (Thunderbolt Buddha)

Elsewhere

A return from his more structured thrillers like Angel Dust and Labyrinth of Dreams to the punky kinetic anarchy of his early work, Japanese maverick Sogo Ishii delivers a wild ride with the hour-long B&W feature Electric Dragon 80,000 V. Stronger on frenetic energy than narrative coherence, this mind-bending jolt centering on the rivalry between two urban warriors, both electrocuted as children, combines high-octane comicstrip action with an acid-trip, metallic aesthetic.

Punctuated by elementary inter-titles and propelled by urgent drum beats and wailing electro-rock, the story doesn’t bear close examination. The shock he received to the reptilian part of his brain that controls emotion and desire enables rage-prone guitar freak Dragon Eye Morrison to communicate with lizards. But his electromagnetic power represents a threat to similarly wired Thunderbolt Buddha, leading to a violent clash on the Tokyo rooftops. Cut at breakneck speed and shot with convulsive, multi-angle dexterity, the film is light on dialogue, driven mainly by its thrashing imagery and intricate soundtrack of layered noise and music. — David Rooney, Variety, 3/5/01

Electric Dragon 80,000 V attains hyperdrive by hotwiring one of the director’s earliest punk-primordial strategies: it suggests that sticking your head inside an overdriven guitar is as good a way as any to glimpse the face of God. Ex-teen idols Masatoshi Nagase and Takenori Asano – both of whom happen to be members of Ishii’s mutant musical ensemble Mach 1.67 – turn in Kabuki-fried performances as a pair of rival noise-warriors bent on the audio-visual domination of neo-Tokyo.

Asano went so far as to torture his own electric guitar into skronking submission for the film’s soundtrack, but it’s Nagase’s stoic incarnation of Thunderbolt Buddha – half automaton, half hood ornament – that spotwelds this sparky spurt of new-century delirium to Buster Keaton’s eternal star. — Chuck Stephens, Film Comment, 3/4/01

Not since Shinya Tsukamoto’s Tetsuo (1991) have I met such a frenetic assault of rock’n’roll overdose – the black and white looks definitely as retro-futuristic and the editing is like hyperventilation; almost as if the movie is over before it started. — Christoph Huber, Senses of Cinema, 2-3/01