13 Steps of Maki: The Young Aristocrats (1975)

 

If you ever listened to modern day YouTubers and bloggers, you would think that the Girl Boss Film is a modern-day phenomenon.  Indeed, many online influencers genuinely believe that there were no strong female characters prior to 2016.   Of course, anyone who has watched 70s Hong Kong and Japanese Cinema know that those films featured a whole variety of Girl Bosses. The Japanese studio, Toei, had quite an impressive stable of kickass females, most notably:  Meiko Kaji (Female Prisoner Scorpion), Reiko Ike (Sex and Fury, Queen Bee’s Challenge), Miki Sugimoto (Girl Boss Revenge: Sukeban) and the star of today’s review, Etsuko Shihomi.

In my review for the Female Prisoner Scorpion, I claimed that Meiko Kaji was the female equivalent to Clint Eastwood. Etsuko Shihomi is more on par with Bruce Lee than she is with Clint Eastwood.  In the Female Prisoner Scorpion series, Nami was a woman of a few words and always kept her cool, regardless of the situation. She was cold and a calculating woman, who was always waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.  In 13 Steps of Maki, the title character is the exact opposite of Maki; she wears her emotions on her sleeves and has a warm, inviting personality.  Nami operated in a stealth-like manner when it was time to take out her opponents, while Maki prefers a blunter approach – she is confident that her fighting abilities will win the day, no matter what the odds are. 

Maki is the leader of a girl gang, The Wildcats. When they are not practicing karate, they roam the streets and take out the trash. In the movie’s opening scene, two women are tied to a train track by a girl gang.  It looks like their goose is cooked until Maki shows up.  Maki makes mincemeat out of the women gang members but is then ambushed by the male members of the gang. However, they prove to no match for Maki’s superior fighting skills (she was trained by Sonny Chiba, after all).   Unfortunately for Maki and her gang, they run afoul of the Yakuza. 

What initially starts off as a cat fight between Maki and rich bitch, Takako, evolves into a full out war.  They first encounter Takako on the road; Maki and the Wildcats are joying riding in a jeep and are cut off by Takako, and her boyfriend, in their Trans Am. The Wildcats swear to get even.  They get their revenge by tracking Takako down on the beach, stripping off her clothes, and burying her up to her neck in the sand.  It turns out that Takako is the daughter of Taizo Ebihara, a prominent businessman, who also has ties to the Yakuza.  Takako then strikes back by asking the Yakuza boss, Daimon, to help with her revenge. Daimon’s goons kidnap the Wildcats, strip them nude, and tie them up to a merry-go-round.  When Maki arrives to save them, Takako is standing on a rollercoaster track, laughing her ass off.  Of course, this only further infuriates Maki, and she responds by kidnapping Takako and forcing her to get a tattoo on her back shoulder (this marks Takako and prevents her from marrying into a respectable family). 

What began as a catfight turns into a full out war; Daimon’s men kidnap the Wildcats, shoot them up with drugs, and force them into prostitution. Maki breaks into Daimon’s headquarters to save the girls but, instead, runs into Daimon’s bodyguard, Eto.  He challenges Maki to a fight and if she beats him, he will tell her where the Wildcats are. It’s while the two are fighting that Daimon calls the cops and Maki is dragged away to a women’s juvenile hall.  This does not sit well with Eto, who was promised he would be allowed to beat Maki in a fair fight – he might be a low life, but he is an honest lowlife.

Etsuko Shihomi makes for a credible, and fun, heroine. She manages to inject warmth and even humor into what could have easily been a dour, one-dimensional character.  My favorite scene in the movie is when Maki visits her uncle, because it gives us a glimpse at her lighter side – this is the one scene where she can drop the tough girl routine and have a normal conversation with a family member. Her uncle does scold her for her fighting, but it in a loving manner.  Also, it is usually Maki who is scolding the Wildcats for their reckless behavior; so, in some ways, it must be a relief to be on the receiving end of that equation. There are not too many people who would have the guts to criticize Maki. There is also nice moment where the two of them share a bottle of saki; her uncle enjoys it, but Maki can’t stand the stuff and makes a sour face after tasting it.  It is a minor moment, but it does a lot to humanize the character. 

Shihomi's acting can be a bit inconsistent at times (this isn’t too surprising as she was still a teenager when she made this movie) but she really throws herself into the action scenes. This movie was made in era when filmmakers had a total disregard for the actors’ safety, which means that Shihomi did most of her own stunts.  She does incredibly well in the non-dialogue scenes – she is especially good with body language. She doesn't need to know to speak, because we can tell how Maki is feeling by her posture and the ferocity in her eyes. She would have been a terrific silent actress.

However, while Maki is a compelling protagonist, the most interesting character is Takako. She begins the movie antagonistic towards Maki but by the movie’s end she turns into an ally.  When she sees the Wildcats in their drugged out, whored out state – she is appalled. Sure, she wanted to teach them a lesson, but this is going too far. Later, when she goes to Eto for advice, she tells him, “I’m scared of all the things I’ve done.”  The only advice Eto gives to Takako is that she needs to help free the Wildcats, and he offers to help.  That plan quickly gets tossed out the window when they are ambushed by Daimon’s men. Eto is greatly outnumbered, but he does manage to save Takako from being raped by Daimon.  He buys her enough time so she can escape and contact Maki.

Takako visits Maki in the girl’s juvenile hall and not only volunteers to testify on Maki’s behalf but offers to pay her way out of jail, as well. Maki is too stubborn to accept Takako’s generous offer and is determined to get out of jail her own way. It’s only when Takako informs her of the fate that has befallen the Wildcats that Maki is stirred into action. Later, Takako helps a beaten-up Eto escape from his prison cell (in the basement of Daimon’s headquarters) by dropping her hair pin on the floor next to him, so he can pick the lock. The final straw for Takako is when Daimon has her father murdered. Daimon wants to become an official partner in Ebihara’s restaurants and wants to marry Takako, but Ebihara shoots down both suggestions.  This doesn’t sit well with Daimon, and he has Ebihara murdered in a car explosion. 

 Unfortunately, Takako’s payoff is underwhelming: the filmmakers lead you to believe that she is going to murder Daimon; she has agreed to marry him as a pretense to get him alone, so she can kill him with the knife she has packed in her suitcase. Instead, Takako gets sidelined at the end (she ends up killing the woman who betrayed her father) and it is Maki that kills Daimon.  It would have been, emotionally, a much more satisfying ending if Takako killed Daimon; not to mention it would have completed her character arc. The film also sets up a potential romance between Eto and Takako – they are both troubled characters who want to atone for their past sins.  This subplot gets quickly abandoned as the rest of the movie is more focused on Maki’s escape from the juvenile hall and revenge.  I was surprised to learn that the actress Misa Ohara only has two acting credits (according to IMDB) because she gives an effective performance as the guilt-ridden Takako. It’s the best performance in the movie.

Eto is another interesting character.  He is initially antagonistic towards Maki, but he always treats her with respect and behaves in an honorable manner. In the beginning of the movie, the Wildcats encounter a naked woman running through the streets and take her under their wing.  It is revealed that the woman is Momoe, a stripper who dances at a club owned by the Daimon Group. Maki and friends confront the owner of the strip club, and all out brawl breaks out. It begins in the green room and eventually spills out onto the catwalk. The men in the audience believe this is part of the act and cheer on enthusiastically. This angers Daimon and he sends his goons to bring the stripper back. They confront the Wildcats in an empty swimming pool (where the Wildcats are training) and Eto, wanting to avoid a bloodbath) suggests that Maki and he fight it out – whoever wins will get Momoe. However, when Daimon’s goons go behind his back and try to grab Momoe, Eto is appalled, gives the offenders a good slap down, apologizes to Maki and tells her to take Momoe. Later, when Takako asks Eto to help get her revenge on the Wildcats, he declines and tells her he doesn’t want to get involved in a catfight.  It also interesting to note that Eto is only person who beats Maki in a fair fight; before their fight is broke up by the police, Eto is clearly winning.  Tatsuya Nanjo brings a great physicality to the role of Eto; you genuinely believe he could take on an entire army. There is a tragic element to his performance; to atone for his violent past, Eto has vowed never to live a normal life.  He could potentially have a happy future with either Maki, or Takako, but he just won’t allow himself to let go.

It often feels like 13 Steps of Maki is the middle chapter in a trilogy; it is set up early on that Maki has a long-lost brother and the only time we see him is in a flashback (this allowed the filmmakers to shoehorn in a cameo by Sonny Chiba). It was Maki’s brother who taught her to fight and the way he is set up, you are expecting him to make an appearance at the end to help his beleaguered sister. It doesn’t happen. In fact, after Chiba’s cameo, the long-lost brother subplot is discarded. The fates of the Wildcats and Takako are left ambiguous – the last time the Wildcats are shown, they are still drugged out of their minds while engaging in acts of prostitution.  The last time we see Takako, she is standing on the stairway, traumatized by the aftermath of the bloodbath caused by Maki.  My initially thought was that the movie would end with Takako joining the Wildcats (and then the follow up film could center around Maki and Takako whipping the Wildcats back into shape), instead it ends with Maki, in tears, running on the beach.  The movie ends so abruptly that it leaves you asking questions.  

The second half of the movie is your standard “women behind bars” movie; the warden is in cahoots with Daimon and puts her in the same cell with gang members that have a grudge against her.  There is a hierarchy in the system: the girls get their orders from an inmate known as “The Boss”, who gets her orders from the warden, who, in turn, gets his order from Daimon. There are a couple attempts on Maki’s life – the most colorful one is a woman tries to strangle Maki with her long hair.  The Boss eventually challenges Maki to a duel, and Maki thoroughly beats her. This wins her the respect of The Boss and the other inmates, and they help Maki escape (by forming a human pyramid so Maki can crawl over the wall).  It checks all the boxes of the “Woman Behind Bars” genre: a corrupt warden, female nudity, a torture scene, over the top violence, and an escape; though, it avoids the gratuitous lesbian sex scene. It is not groundbreaking, but it is well done.

Etsuko Shihomi was a busy actress from the 70s to the mid-80s, but then retired from acting in 1986.  Sonny Chiba co-starred in a good chunk of those movies (it’s not surprising, considering he was kind of mentor towards her).   It was also around the time of 13 Steps of Maki that Shihomi starred in the Sister Street Fighter series. While those movies are entertaining, they’re not as swiftly paced as 13 Steps of Maki.

13 Steps of Maki is a flawed movie, but it also incredibly entertaining. It moves at a fast pace and never wears out its welcome (it’s only 78 minutes long). It’s full of surprises and has an energetic young cast. It is way better than most modern Hollywood action movies, because, unlike most modern actors, Shihomi actually studied martial arts. Compare Shihomi’s fight scenes to Daisy Ridley’s in the Disney Star Wars trilogy, and you will notice a huge disparity between the two of them: Shihomi looks like a genuine warrior while Ridley looks awkward swinging around her lightsaber.

Cast: Etsuko Shihomi (Maki Hyuga), Misa Ohara (Takako Ebihara), Hiroshi Nawa (Ryunosuke Daimon), Tatsuya Nanjo (Tetsuya Eto), Hiroshi Kondo (Taizo Ebihara), Shin’ichi (Sonny) Chiba (Kenichi Hyuga), Koji Fujiyama (Kuwata), Hideo Murota (Warden Akae), Meika Seri (Okyo Kushimaki).

Director: Makoto Naito
Writers: Ikki Kajiwara (comic), Masaaki Sato (comic), Takeo Kaneko (screenplay), Makoto Naito (screenplay).
Running Time: 78 minutes.

Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy (1972-1973)

(WARNING: This review contains spoilers) I have recently been on a Japanese Cinema kick – it started after seeing Godzilla Minus One in the theatres and is still going strong two months later. I have watched The Gamera series; A bunch of Ishiro Honda films (The H-Man, Matango, Battle In Outer Space, Atragon), The Bloodthirsty trilogy (The Vampire Doll, Lake of Dracula, Evil of Dracula), The Ring series, Dark Water, Lady Snowblood, and the subject of today’s review, the Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy. Throughout the 70s (and even into the 80s), “women behind bars” was a popular subgenre of movies that was produced predominantly by B studios. These movies are a prime example of exploitation cinema (Japan has a specific name for this genre of film, Pink): they often featured lots of female nudity, violence, gratuitous sex scenes, and the occasional lesbian scene thrown in for good measure. It isn’t too surprising that Toei (Japan’s equivalent to American International Pictures) eventually got into the act. In 1972 and 1973, Toei produced the Female Prisoner Scorpion Quadrilogy; which follows the exploits of the unflappable convict Nami Matsushima (AKA: The Scorpion). These four movies basically follow the formula of your average “women behind bars” film, but what separates these four films from the rest is the often-surrealistic direction and the star of the series, Meiko Kaji.

 Nami Matsushima is the female counterpart to Clint Eastwood’s “The Man with No Name” character; they only speak when absolutely necessary (in the second entry, Jailhouse 41, Matsu has only two lines of dialogue). In Nami’s case, you always sense she is sizing up the people around her, trying to determine if they can be trusted, or looking for a potential weakness she can exploit. She patiently waits for the ideal moment to strike and when she does, it’s usually in a stealth-like manner. After she breaks out of prison, she stalks the streets of Tokyo in a black trench coat and black sunhat (looking like death incarnate) and picks off her unsuspecting prey one by one.

There are two notable differences between Nami and “The Man With No Name”: In the first movie, we are shown Nami’s backstory while “The Man with No Name” remains a completely mystery. Occasionally, Nami will let her mask slip and we see her more vulnerable side. She will occasionally cry (though usually when no one else is around, Nami would never give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her tear up). In the fourth film, she becomes romantically involved with would be anarchist, Kudo. “The Man With No Name” is an asexual character; he is not the least bit interested in sex.

Nami, on the other hand, has no qualms about using sex for own benefit. In the first film, the sadistic warden puts Kito (an undercover cop) into solitary confinement with Nami to spy on her. Nami is immediately wise to this ruse but also senses that Kito is attracted to her and seduces the naïve Kito. She works up Kito to the point of arousal and then pulls away; this leaves Kito begging Matsu for more, but she is denied the pleasure. The next day when Kito is reporting to the warden, she keeps begging him to put her back in solitary confinement; the warden puts two and two together, strips down Kito, sees that her body is covered with lipstick, and promptly dismisses the hysterical officer. This scene has two functions: its main function, of course, is to titillate the audience – Kito is completely stripped naked by Nami, and the camera lingers on her nude body for quite some time. However, it also gives us an insight into Nami’s character – she discovers Kito’s weakness and uses it to discredit her. This scene also contributes to the movie’s surreal quality – the idea that Kito would have lipstick all her body is ludicrous. For starters, it is unlikely the prison would allow Nami to wear lipstick, especially if she was in solitary confinement. This is less about realism and more about visually depicting Kito's state of mind - she  is so obsessed with Nami that, instead of washing the lipstick off, she decides to leave it on her body as a memento of their short-lived fling. 

 Nami can often be reckless when it comes to her revenge, and it often results in collateral damage. In 701’s Grudge Song, Kudo and Nami break into the apartment of their common enemy, Detective Kodoma, and bound and gag his pregnant wife. They are hoping to ambush the detective, but when he fails to show up, they try to strong arm information out of her, and she ends up falling to her death as result of their carelessness.

In the second film, Jailhouse 41, Nami and six other inmates escape from prison and end up hijacking a bus full of sightseers. Nami holds the driver at knifepoint, while her fellow inmates start terrorizing the passengers on the bus. At first, their wrath is justified, as they are initially taunting three men who are responsible for rape and murder of Rose, the youngest member of the gang, but then they target two women on the bus (who had nothing to with Rose’s death) by stripping of their clothes and forcing them to dance. The most sadistic member of the gang, Oba, sticks her shotgun into an old man’s crotch and forces him to shout “Banzai!” It’s pretty evident that Nami is disgusted by their actions but also doesn’t want to get involved (mainly because she is outnumbered). Oba and the gang betray Nami when, after they come across a barricade, throw Nami off the bus to create a distraction. Later, the bus is cornered by law enforcement, and the warden sends Nami into to check out the scene. She exchanges a few words with Oba and then walks back to the warden. When he asks her how the hostages are doing, she lies and says they are all dead. The police open fire on the bus and end up killing the inmates (except Oba who is mortally wounded) but it’s also likely that a few of the passengers were killed as well. Nami is so hell bent on getting revenge on her betrayers (and making the police look foolish) that she is willing to risk the lives of innocent civilians. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

The best thing that Quadrilogy has going for it is Meiko Kaji in the title role. Kaji is an extremely interesting actress; she is striking beautiful, to be sure, but she has a total command of the screen. In comparison, I recently watched the B-movie, OneChanbara: Bikini Samurai Squad, and while the lead actress in that movie, Eri Otoguri, is also extremely attractive (she looks great in a bikini) she completely lacks the screen presence that Kaji displays here. Meiko Kaji is one of those rare actresses who can say a lot by doing very little: there is a moment in the fourth film, 701’s Grudge Song, where Kudo is talking to Nami and she flashes him a tiny smile; it is very subtle, but it speaks volumes about Nami’s state of mind – she is cautiously optimistic. She also brings a great deal of intensity to the role; when Nami dons the black trench coat and sunhat, you know she means business and no one is going to stand in her way.

In Beast Stable, we get a better look at Nami’s more sensitive side – there is a scene where she has an emotional breakdown and starts to cry (again, no one is around to witness it). Nami has been caught by the yakuza and is trapped in a cage with ravens. This isn’t what causes the breakdown rather, it’s the sight of the prostitute, Shinobu, who is lying on the floor next to Nami. Shinobu was six months pregnant and was forced to get an abortion by her madame, Katsu. Katsu indifferently tosses the distraught Shinobu in the same room as Nami. The sight of Shinobu crying out in pain while still covered in blood is too much for Nami and she can't hold back her tears. However, she quickly recovers and forms a plan to get out of her makeshift prison. 

 It would a be easy to dismiss Kaji as a one note actress (it was during this time she played a similar character in Lady Snowblood) but prior to Female Prisoner Scorpion series, she starred in the Stray Cat Rock series, and she often played characters who the polar opposite of Nima Matsushima; in Wild Jumbo, she plays the delinquent C-ko, and not only does her character say a lot, but she manages to inject humor into her performance. It is my opinion that Meiko Kaji could have been an international star if she had sought it out. I could totally see Meiko Kaji teaming up with Clint Eastwood in a western; two drifters who reluctantly team up to take out a common enemy. Oh well!!! Thankfully, Meiko Kaji has not been lost to history; she has become a cult actress, and The Female Prisoner Scorpion series and Lady Snowblood were two of the main inspirations for Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill movies. On top of being a great actress, she was also an accomplished singer (she sings the theme song in all four Female Prisoner Scorpion movies, as well as theme song to Lady Snowblood; both of which appears on the Kill Bill soundtrack). 

 The other thing that distinguishes the Female Prisoner Scorpion (at the least the first three films) is its surreal approach to the material. The first three movies were directed by Shunya Ito, and he definitely has an imaginative style. #701’s Grudge Song was directed by Yasuharu Hasebe and it’s the weakest out of the series because it is the most routine. 

 The first indication that this is not going to be your average “Woman behind Bars” movie is the flashback in the first movie. In a more conventional movie, the flashback would be signified with the use of a cloudy filter and distorted images, but director Ito opts for a more surrealistic approach – there is no clear transition between scenes but rather they seem to bleed into one another. For instance, the flashback begins with Nami and her then boyfriend, Detective Sugimi, making love in spacious, empty room. The camera then pans up to the back wall of the room and then silhouettes of people sitting at tables appear on the wall, then the lights go up and we are in a nightclub. Nami has been sent by Sugimi to spy on a drug smuggling ring, but her cover is blown, and she is raped by a several drug dealers. It’s only after she is raped that Sugimi arrives on the scene and makes the arrest; he gloats over his arrest while ignoring Nami’s current state. However, it turns out that this whole bust was just a pretext to obtain a bribe from the yakuza. He sold Nami out to a pack of wolves. We also get a rather clever transition from the nightclub to the office of the yakuza boss; Sugimi busts opens a safe that contains the drugs and then the back wall does a 360 spin and next thing know, Sugimi is standing next to the desk of the yakuza boss, counting his bribe money. Through the entirety of this scene, Nami is lying in the foreground of the shot.  

In the next scene, Nami tries to kill Sugimi outside police quarters, in broad daylight, she is still wearing the torn-up dress that she was raped in. Remember, this is a flashback told from Nami’s point of view, so it’s not an accurate telling of what happened, but rather represents Nami’s state of mind – after being raped, Nami feels exposed to the world. 

 Later, there is a fight scene between Nami and fellow inmate, Masaki. However, the lighting, staging and make up of this scene seems more fitting for a horror movie than an action film. The character of Masaki is made up like The Bride of Frankenstein and seems to glide across the room (it’s a scene that anticipates Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead trilogy). The scene ends when Masaki accidentally stabs the warden in eye with a shard of glasses (she is aiming for Nami, who ducks out of the way at the last second). This, naturally, enrages the warden and he strangles Masaki to death.

The second film, Jailhouse 41, has a scene where each of the inmates' backstory is explained to the audience, but it is done through song rather than dialogue. An offscreen voice, accompanied by a biwa, sings in detail how each woman wound up in prison. This scene begins with a long shot; the seven women are sitting middle of the frame, in front of black background, while an old woman appears to hover over them in the background. They are sitting in front of a fire - this scene has very mystical quality to it. It is also done in a minimalistic manner – when each individual woman's story being told, she is sitting in front of black background and the camera slowly zooms in on her. 

The third film, Beast Stable, has another scene that is straight out of a horror movie – at the beginning of the movie, Nami manages to escape a police officer who has handcuffed her by hacking off his arm. While she is free, she is still handcuffed to a severed arm. After the prostitute Yuki has finished with a client, she hears noises coming from the cemetery and noticed Nami crouched behind a headstone, biting on the severed arm to free herself from the handcuffs. It is a credit to the filmmakers and Meiko Kajis performance that Nami looks ghoulish in this scene – she could easily be an extra from Night of the Living Dead.

The closest thing we get to surrealism in the fourth movie is the final confrontation between Nami and Detective Kodoma; he has broken out of prison so he can hang her on his own makeshift galley. The set (intentionally) looks fake, with a fake sky filled with fake grey clouds. However, the climax to this scene is poorly staged – Detective Kodoma puts Nami’s neck in the noose and kicks the chair out from under her; she manages to jump and grab onto the top beam of the galley, freeing herself in the process, Kodama fires a few shots at her with his gun but somehow misses, he stumbles on the trap door, his neck goes through the noose in the process, and he accidentally hangs himself. This scene happens so fast, and is accomplished with rapid cuts, that it is hard to figure out what happened. It’s rather anti-climactic.

While I have many positive things to say about the Female Prisoner Scorpion trappings, it isn’t exempt from the sleazy trappings that frequently popped in exploitation movies. It suffers from the attitude that was prevalent in grindhouse films – there is no such thing as bad nudity. In #701’s Grudge Song, there is a rather gratuitous rape scene. Detective Kodoma and the female warden express concern that Prison Guard Daiman is too soft on the prisoners and have her raped by a few police officers to shape her up - Kodoma blackmails her into going along with his plan for revenge. The problem with this scene is that it comes immediately after Daiman is seen taunting Nami as she scrubs the steps on the galley; Nami’s treatment of prisoner Akiko has turned Daiman against Nami. It’s more than likely Daiman would have gone along with his scheme without the rape. It has no bearing on the plot; it’s just an excuse to show an attractive woman naked. Beast Stable is probably the sleaziest film in the bunch (yet is still more entertaining than #701’s Grudge Song); in it Nami forms a friendship with the prostitute Yuki, who is also in an incestuous relationship with her mentally challenged brother. We get multiple sex scenes between the two and they are, appropriately, creepy. Yuki willingly offers up her body to brother as way of keeping him in check, she gets no pleasure from it – she just lies on floor still while his brother has his way with her. It should also note that I watched Beast Stable on the same night as Shogun’s Joy of Torture; another Toei movie that features a story of incest. What the hell, Toei? It should also be pointed out that Yuki is played by Yayoi Watanabe, who appears in three of the Female Prison Scorpion movies (she plays a different role in each film).  As Yuki, she gives a very effective performance; in her hands, Yuki comes across as a tragic heroine than a lowly prostitute.  

 Another interesting theme that pops up throughout the series is that the female prisoners are often as cruel and sadistic as the prisoner guards; in the first film, Katagiri, at the request of Sugimi, agrees to kill Nami in exchange for her freedom. However, she isn't foolish enough to take Nami on by herself, instead she turns the entire prison against Nami (by implying she is working with the guards). The women gang up on Nami, tie her up, hanging her up on the ceiling, and take turns beating up on her. It's only after Katagiri attempts to burn them all alive that they realize they have duped and turn on Katagiri. In the sequel, the six prisoner who escape with Nami torment an entire bus of sightseers and then betray Nami by throwing her to the police.

 Yet, there often moments of humanity scattered throughout the series. In Jailhouse 41, the escapee Rose is urinating by a lake and is spotted by two young boys. The two boys, with their juvenile minds, find sight of woman urinating hilarious, and Rose, taking no offense to the boy's amusement, laughs along with them and then exchanges a few pleasant words with them. Sadly, it's after this pleasant encounter that she runs into three slimy businessmen who raped and murder her. In Beast Stable Nami develops a bond with the Yuki; she is appalled by Yuki's incestuous relationship her brother, but she senses a kindred spirit - they both have been hurt by the people they loved. Later, when Nami is on the run and hiding in the sewers, Yuki finds her and gives her food and clean water to drink.

 Other than the sleazy visuals, the writing is heavily flawed – too much of Nami’s success is predicated on her enemies making dumb decisions. Detective Kodama, not content with the State hanging Nami, breaks her out of prison so he can enact his own personal revenge. If he had allowed the State to do their job, he would still be alive. In the first film, Sugimi has Nami cornered in the elevator, but rather than kill her decides to kiss her; she takes advantage of this opportunity by biting deeply into his lower lip, which results in copious amounts of blood squirting out.

 In #701’s Grudge Song, the romance between Nami and Kudo is forced; it’s hard to believe that someone as levelheaded as Nami would fall for an unhinged lunatic like Kudo. Hell, even their love scene is passionless; it feels like the filmmakers just wanted to get it out of the way and rushed through it.

Though, there is a great payoff to this relationship: the police capture Kudo and after hours of torture, finally get him to break once they bring out his mother; she shames him into revealing Nami’s location. This is second time that she has been betrayed by a man she has loved and after she disposes of Kudoma she goes after Kudo. She confronts him at the strip club he works at (he is a lighting technician). He is happy to see her and gives her a hug; while she is in his embrace, she stabs him with a knife. However, Kudo doesn’t begrudge Nami for this; he was fully anticipating it and dies peacefully.

 The Female Prisoner Scorpion movies are by no means cinematic masterpieces, but they are worth seeing for their compelling lead actress, Meiko Kaji, and their often-surrealistic visuals. If you are a fan of exploitation cinema and surrealism, then these films are probably up your alley. If you are the type of person whose cup of tea is Maid in Manhattan or Titanic, then say clear away.

 Credits 

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion (1972) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Rie Yokoyama (Katagiri), Yayoi Watanabe (Yukiko Kida), Yoko Mihara (Masaki), Akemi Negishi (Otsuka), Keiko Kuni (Nemoto), Yumiko Katayama (Kito), Emi Jo (Morikawa), Isao Natsuyagi (Tsugio Sugimi), Fumio Watanabe (Warden Goda). Director: Shunya Ito Writers: Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 87 minutes

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (1972) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Fumio Watanabe (Warden Goda), Kayoko Shiraishi (Oba), Yukie Kagawa (Tomiko Yasuki), Eiko Yanami (Harue), Hiroko Isayama (Asaka Noda), Kuniko Ishii (Rose Miyako), Yuki Aresa (Kimiyo Oikawa), Hideo Murota (Okizaki), Fudeko Tanaka (The Old Woman). Director: Shunya Ito Writers: Shunya Ito, Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda. Running Time: 90 minutes 

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: Beast Stable (1973) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matsushima/Scorpion), Yayoi Watanabe (Yuki), Mikio Narita (Detective Kondo), Reisen Lee (Katsu), Koji Nanbara (Sameshima), Takashi Fujika (Tanida), Tomoko Mayama (Shinobu). Director: Shunya Ito Writer: Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 87 minutes 

 Female Prisoner Scorpion: 701’s Grudge Song (1973) Cast: Meiko Kaji (Nami Matushima/ Scorpion), Masakazu Tamura (Teruo Kudo), Toshiyuki Hosokawa (Takeshia Kodoma), Yumi Kanei (Kinuyo Kodoma), Hiroshi Tsukata (Detective Hirose), Yayoi Watanabe (Midori), Sanae Nakahara (Akiko), Kaoru Kusuda (Prison director Nakasone), Akemi Negishi (Prison Guard Minamimura), Akiko Mori (Chief Guard Daimon), Junko Ando (Prison Guard Mazaki). Director: Yasuharu Hasebe Writers: Yasuharu Hasebe, Fumio Konami, Hiro Matsuda Running Time: 89 minutes.