“Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Shunya Ito
Cast: Meiko Kaji, Mikio Narita, Reisen Lee, Yayoi Watanabe, Koji Nanbara, Takashi Fujiki
Running Time: 87 min.

By Kelly Warner

Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable is a very different movie from the two that came before it. Meiko Kaji’s Matsu the Scorpion is on the lam after having narrowly survived her prison escape in Jailhouse 41. Wanted posters with her face are all over the city streets, warning that she is a dangerous fugitive. We join Matsu on the subway, sitting silently by herself while those around her read newspapers with her face on them. Detective Kondo (Mikio Narita) and his partner notice Matsu and slowly approach. Just before they’re ready to grab her, out comes the Scorpion’s blade. She fights them off and runs for it, but not before Kondo handcuffs himself to her. Matsu rushes out of the subway car and the doors close on Kondo’s arm. The Scorpion doesn’t hesitate before she starts chopping away on the detective’s right arm, soon hacking it off and leaving him screaming inside the subway car as it pulls away from the station. Matsu runs off, covered in blood and still attached to the severed limb, passing by frightened bystanders who look confused enough to possibly be unwitting extras to one of the most violent opening sequences in cinema.

Unlike the first two films, where 99% of the characters wanted Matsu dead in some way, Beast Stable grants her a friend in the hooker Yuki (Yayoi Watanabe, who was also in #701: Scorpion). It’s not a perfect friendship, though. Things get off to a weird start when Yuki first meets Matsu chewing on Detective Kondo’s severed arm in the shadows of a graveyard that’s lit exclusively by neon lights of nearby bars. Yuki takes Matsu to her place, where Matsu meets Yuki’s sex-starved, brain-damaged older brother, a man whom Yuki defends and alternatively plots to kill totally depending on the day. There’s no shortage of sleaze and uncomfortable character interactions as Matsu settles into a routine of life in the shadows, working as a seamstress to pay her rent, and defending her friend Yuki.

All is going relatively well until a moment of violence against a yakuza lands Matsu at the feet of her new employers, who in addition to running a legitimate business also force women into prostitution on the side. They’re ready to beat her and let her go, but then the boss’s wife recognizes Matsu the Scorpion from the time she spent in prison. Reisen Ri (aka Reisen Lee) plays the cruel boss lady Katsu over the top, complete with crazy dresses and ugly makeup that make her look like a drag queen, plus violent animal pets and a very stagey villain’s laugh. Seeing her chance at putting the Scorpion in her place, Katsu drugs her and throws her into a cage of ravens. (This sequence isn’t nearly as frightening or as weird as I imagine they planned it. The birds mostly ignore Meiko Kaji.) Of course, Matsu soon escapes her cage and vows revenge. The increasing body count attracts the attention of the one-armed Detective Kondo, who starts closing in on Scorpion looking to exact personal revenge more than to serve the law.

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion and its immediate sequel Jailhouse 41 were fast-paced thrillers filled with violence, madness, sleaze, and political commentary. Beast Stable is more of a slow-burn, more character-driven. This may not be the ‘crowd pleaser’ that the first two films were, but it does give Meiko Kaji some of her most interesting acting moments in the series. Beast Stable explores some of Scorpion’s softer edges, and though it’d be going too far to call her ‘vulnerable’, she does let her guard down at times. Hell, she even cries at one point. It is an excellent dramatic performance, again performed mostly silent. And I enjoyed the quieter moments which allowed Matsu to stand beside a friend and have a beer. It’s a nice evolution for the character, and serves as a reminder that she wasn’t always a violent antihero.

Yayoi Watanabe is good as Yuki. Though she’s a hooker caught in an incestuous relationship with her brother, she’s also the most ‘normal’ character in the film. Mikio Narita (Zatoichi and the Chess Expert) is surprisingly reserved as the villainous Detective Kondo. And Reisen Ri nearly steals the show as the campy villain Katsu.

This would be director Shunya Ito’s last entry in the series. He made his directorial debut with #701: Scorpion and wanted to branch out. Ito’s three Scorpion films came back-to-back-to-back. All other future films in his career would be more spread out, with only eleven more films over the next 40 years. Though still best remembered for his Scorpion films, Ito remembers in an interview that a Toei executive considered never releasing the original film, likely because of its questionable content. Ito was the head of the studio’s union at the time and he ultimately prevailed, which is something the studio really should thank him for because the films became big successes both financially and critically. Future Ito films would invite a different kind of controversy. 1985’s Gray Sunset was a popular film in Japan and was selected to represent the country in the Best Foreign Language Film category at the Oscars, despite the rest of the world heaping praise upon Akira Kurosawa’s Ran. (Ran was nominated for four Oscars and won for Best Costume Design, which is a rare level of recognition for a foreign film in an American awards show. Gray Sunset didn’t make the cut for Best Foreign Language Film and has been largely forgotten about outside of its native Japan.) Ito’s 1998 film Pride was a biopic about Prime Minister Tojo, which presented the man in a positive light. Though a box office success in Japan, critics (especially those of other Asian countries) accused the film of historical revisionism, saying Ito whitewashed Tojo’s role in the war and ignored the country’s human rights crimes. Ito defended his film and tried to explain his intentions but, with the exception of a documentary about filmmaking, he would not make another feature film for over a decade.

Ito’s first two Scorpion films had some strong, angry political commentary. Beast Stable has considerably less on its mind. One new theme that Beast Stable explores is motherhood. Motherhood is something that horror likes to return to often but Beast Stable finds some strange new territory in the theme. One disturbing sequence finds two abortions happening at the same time in two different locations. One is sad, the other is terrifying. It’s horrific stuff, and reminds me of the chestburster scene in Ridley Scott’s Alien – and on that note, seeing a similar sequence to the chestburster playout in a real-world situation helps me better understand how/why women reacted so strongly to Alien in 1979.

This is not my favorite Scorpion film but it does feature one of my favorite moments, as we later return to the abortionist’s sterile, white operating room and witness blood spraying onto the walls. There’s no characters at first, no sign of who is bleeding to death, just the sight of blood spray on white. It’s a trippy revenge fever dream.

Beast Stable hits Blu-ray for the first time in the West from Arrow video as part of their new box set. Again, the picture quality is rather disappointing. I don’t think it’s as blue looking as the first two films. But it’s pretty rough looking. Deep blacks appear to flicker at times. To put it simply, it doesn’t look like a Blu-ray. Again, this is all based on the print that Toei provided, so one is forced to assume that this was a case of poor source materials and not a Blu-ray transfer gone wrong. Still, it’s too bad. Features on the disc include an appreciation from critic Kat Ellinger who praises Japanese exploitation cinema, a visual essay from Tom Mes about the career of Meiko Kaji, and an archival interview with Shunya Ito on working with Kaji, in which Ito admits he didn’t want Kaji in his movie because he so disliked her in Wandering Ginza Butterfly. I enjoyed the Meiko Kaji career spotlight the most, because it allowed me to learn more about the career of one of my favorite actresses, who has made many films that remain unavailable to me and others (after the 70’s Kaji did a LOT of TV work).

This would be director Shunya Ito’s last Scorpion film and he ends the story with a stylish, satisfying finale. But this wouldn’t be the last Scorpion film for Meiko Kaji, who would return to the role in director Yasuharu Hasebe’s 701’s Grudge Song. Beast Stable is the quietest of Ito’s Scorpion films; less savage, more brooding. Though not my favorite entry in the series, it does give us one of Kaji’s best performances and a villain you love to hate in Reisen Ri, making it an essential chapter for fans.

Kelly Warner’s Rating: 7.5/10

“Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41” Japanese Theatrical Poster

Director: Shunya Ito
Story: Toru Shinohara
Cast: Meiko Kaji, Fumio Watanabe, Kayoko Shiraishi, Yukie Kagawa, Yuki Arasa, Hideo Murota
Running Time: 94 min.

By Kyle Warner

In the opening moments of Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41, we find our antihero Matsu the Scorpion (Meiko Kaji) chained up in solitary confinement. She’s been locked away for a year after the bloodshed she caused in the previous film. The series’ familiar theme song “Urami Bushi” plays over the credits while Matsu grips a stolen spoon between her teeth and sharpens it against the cement floor. By the time the song is done, the spoon is sharpened to a point and made into an effective prison shiv. For while the injustice that landed her in jail has been resolved, she’s made new enemies in prison, and not all of them ended up dead by the end of the first film. Like the scorpion she is named after, Matsu bides her time, allows her opponents to think they have the upper hand, and at the last second… she strikes.

The cruel Warden Goda (Fumio Watanabe), left forever scarred by Matsu in the original film, has made it his personal mission to see her suffer. With a high-ranking bureaucrat arriving to inspect the prison, Goda allows Matsu a one-day reprieve from solitary so that she may enjoy the sun and greet the inspector on her own two feet. Matsu is barely able to stand during the inspection, making Goda believe he’s finally broken her. But when he gets too close, the dagger that had once been a spoon stabs at his face, leaving a new scar for him to remember her by.

The attack reignites the legend of Scorpion among the other female inmates, so Goda decides to humiliate her in the worst way possible. While the other women work, Matsu is tied to a tree—essentially crucified—and then gang-raped by guards in masks. The women look on in a mix of horror and disgust while Goda grins. The rape and a subsequent beating leave Matsu in terrible shape. She’s then loaded onto a truck with six other women, basically dead. However, in mid-transport, Matsu comes back to life, and kills one of the guards. Seizing their chance, the seven women make a break for it and disappear into the hills.

While the Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion takes place primarily behind bars, Jailhouse 41 is about the law’s hunt for the fugitives. Matsu becomes an unlikely leader to the other women. In the group she also finds a new nemesis in the child killer Hide Oba (Kayoko Shiraishi), though the two women are more alike than either would ever likely admit. The women go from one forgotten (haunted?) town to the next, playing hit-and-runs with Warden Goda’s men all the while trying to avoid the many traps that have been set for them.

In almost every way imaginable, Jailhouse 41 is a darker chapter than the one that came before it. It’s also a better film, I think. There is still plenty of objectionable content in the sequel, but the director’s intent seems clearer, as does his symbolism. Women again face horrific situations at the hands of men in Jailhouse 41 but, unlike the original film, here it’s clear that the filmmakers share our horror, and the camera is not caught ogling the ladies. For exploitation cinema, it’s a delicate balancing act between showing an offensive act and appearing to glorify it. Jailhouse 41 performs that balancing act better than the original.

I mentioned symbolism in the previous paragraph; there’s a lot of in in Shunya Ito’s Scorpion films. Ito looked up to Nagisa Oshima and Luis Bunuel, both of whom mixed politics with surrealism in their films, and it’s clear that Ito’s trying to say something about Japan and the country’s nationalist past. However, beyond the Japanese flag appearing at odd times in the original Scorpion, I must confess I didn’t understand everything he was going for. In Jailhouse 41, political and social commentary is easier to read, making for a deeper film experience. One sequence has a couple rowdy Japanese men on a tour bus fondly recalling “the good old days” of the war when they could rape Chinese women at gunpoint and get away with it. That they then see one of the female escapees as a similarly disposable human being is no big stretch of the imagination. The Scorpion films, with perhaps Jailhouse 41 in particular, are a raging war cry against Japanese nationalism and power. And because the “hero” of Scorpion is a woman behind bars, Japanese power is here represented as corrupt lawmen—but the perhaps the more important thing is that they are men. In a way, Matsu the Scorpion more closely resembles the haunted ghosts of Ringu, The Grudge, and Retribution than any mortal avenger of Japanese film. She is a wraith. She is feminist rage with a prison shiv, and she seeks to not only satisfy her own need for vengeance but also (when it’s convenient) exact revenge on behalf of fellow women who’ve been wronged by lecherous and deceitful men.

Meiko Kaji (Stray Cat Rock) further settles into the role of Matsu the Scorpion. Don’t hold me to it, but I don’t think Matsu speaks a word until we’re over an hour into the film. (Kaji’s songs are played often, though, each of them cool and haunting.) In total Kaji might have three different lines of dialogue in the entire movie. Though given a mostly silent role, Kaji is no less intimidating, and really sells Matsu the Scorpion as one of the baddest, meanest antiheroes in all of cinema. I’m still not convinced that the Scorpion series doesn’t belong on the horror shelf. Matsu the Scorpion’s kills certainly belong alongside the best of Voorhees and Myers. One such kill in Jailhouse 41 finds a dead guard’s manhood replaced by a large tree branch. It’s… pretty messed up.

One complaint about the film would be that five out of the six women Matsu is in league with are basically interchangeable. We know them by their crimes (which are read off by a ghost woman reminiscent of the prophet specter from Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood), but beyond their past misdeeds we never get to know them much better. Only Kayoko Shiraishi’s Hide gets some serious character development, and the audience is put into knots trying to decide whether to sympathize with her or hate her guts. Whereas Meiko Kaji performs her role with steely silence, Shiraishi (Yamato) is loud, abrasive, and has all the crazed energy of an angry hyena. From the start, Matsu and Hide hate one another, but as they’re forced to rely on each other they become unlikely allies, making for some of the most interesting character interactions of the series.

Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 is one of the most thought-provoking and visually striking pieces of exploitation cinema you’re ever likely to see. It’s definitely not for all audiences, but I thought it was excellent.

Kyle Warner’s Rating: 8/10

About this release: Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 arrives on Blu-ray in the US and the UK in the box set of the four original Scorpion films from Arrow Video. As of right now, Arrow has not said whether they have plans to make the films available individually, like the Battles Without Honor and Humanity series. On the Jailhouse 41 disc, we get a few new interviews; critic Kier-La Janisse, Japanese film expert Jasper Sharp, and Scorpion production designer Tadayuki Kuwana. My favorite of the interviews is with Janisse. She puts the Scorpion series (and Jailhouse 41 in particular) into historical perspective not just as a female revenge movie or a women’s prison film, but explains its importance as a piece of feminist cinema. It’s the longest of the disc’s interviews and the most interesting. Jasper Sharp gives us a rundown of director Shunya Ito’s credits, most of which remain totally obscure to Western audiences. Ito only has 14 credits as a director in his four decade long career, with his latest coming in 2013. I for one would be very happy to see some of Ito’s other works, just to see if they’re as crazy and visually interesting as his Scorpion films. Tadayuki Kuwana shares some of his memories of working alongside Ito on the Scorpion films. The series’ production design is a big part of its success so I enjoyed hearing from his experiences on set.

Now then, I must comment on the picture quality of the new Blu-rays: it’s definitely lacking. Arrow says they were supplied original film negatives from Toei and they gave it a 2K restoration for this release, so this seems to be a case of poor source materials and not a transfer gone wrong. Murky, grainy, and very blue (I’m talking A Snake of June levels of blue at times), the first two films of the set don’t look all that great in comparison to other films from the time period that’ve been ported to Blu-ray, by this company or many others. Having not seen the films in theatres and with no instant access to the previous DVDs, I can’t say whether this picture is representative of how the films have always looked, or if this is a noticeable upgrade from the picture of the old DVD. The mono soundtrack is good, at least. It’s a very impressive box set (lovely original art, too), but the video definitely does leave something to be desired.