Battle Royale

Battle Royale was the next-to-last film of 70-year-old director Kinji Fukasaku, who over the decades was responsible for such varied classics as Black Lizard, the Fight Without Honor or Humanity series, and Message From Space. And out of all of those, BR might end up being, ultimately, his most famous film. It is certainly his most controversial. What a way to go out.

Battle Royale takes place in the near future, when the violence and chaos created by Japan’s rebellious youth have gotten out of control. The Japanese government creates the BR Act, which essentially chooses one group of seventh graders at a time, takes them to a remote area, and forces them to fight to the death. They are not allowed to team up: only one kid can survive. They are allowed weapons. They wear electronic collars around their necks that can be remotely detonated if they ‘cheat’ or refuse to take part. Sure, the plot is absolutely outlandish, but so what? It exists mainly as a setup for the film’s action, as each class clown and outsider kid and picked-on nerd can finally get vengeance against the more popular kids. Or vice-versa. Or best friends and boyfriend-girlfriend teams can turn against each other. And they do, of course.

Naturally, this makes the film terribly controversial, as each of the film’s three-dozen-odd attractive teenagers off each other in various creative ways. It’s no surprise the movie and DVD haven’t been released in puritanical modern America, where even Janet Jackson’s metal-covered nipple can cause the FCC to launch an indignant investigation. But in Japan – home of ultra-violent sexy cartoons and where until recently one could purchase freshly-soiled schoolgirl panties from a vending machine – the film was protested as simply going too far. Of course, Japanese cinema has always been violent – deliciously so. But what pissed off the Nippon equivalent of the Moral Majority was that it was these pretty young kids onscreen, performing a brutal ballet on each other, that stirred up the trouble.

To be sure, the violence is indeed creative. I don’t wish to give away any of the cool scenes to those who haven’t seen the film; but I will say that Fukasaku knew the value of violence for violence’s sake. We – being the international film-going public – like lots of blood. We don’t generally admit to it (though I’m happy to), but we do. As far as movie entertainment goes, then we can say, like Gordon Gekko said of greed, ‘Violence is good. Violence works.’ Why else would Bruce Willis keep getting work, or why would we thrill to Jedi slicing robots in half? Why do Americans like action heroes, the Japanese love samurai, and everybody love gangsters?

Battle Royale should be watched in this light. It’s just a movie, after all; just a fiction. We can enjoy watching the beautiful young schoolgirls begin to betray one another. We can marvel at the totally-fictional situation of the battle royale itself, forcing these heretofore-innocent kids to become cold-eyed killers. The first time around watching the film we are breathless, wondering who will survive, and whether the demonic adults will get any comeuppance, thrilling at the twists the plot takes; subsequent viewings get us excited as the perfectly-attuned musical score builds our anticipation, and we are reminded of our favorite characters, our favorite scenes.

Ultimately there is a cloud of darkness over the storyline of this film: after all, the plot deals with a random group of happy, innocent, attractive kids who, through no virtue or sin of their own, are forced to take part in a deadly no-win game concocted by the adults who fear and hate them. But if you can get past that initial dark veil, you can sit back and enjoy the sheer fun of this film for being what it is: a finely-wrought package of action and thrills. And if all of that glorious bloodshed bothers you, just remind yourself (and pardon the cliché): it is, after all, just a movie; just a game.