I, the Executioner arrived to me as a promo disc, so I can’t describe the accompanying booklet, nor the packaging which I guarantee you will be in line with Radiance’s high standards. I was perhaps late to Radiance, but they’ve been steadily releasing some real gems, smartly designed and padded with interesting extras. I’d never heard of this film before Radiance added it to their catalogue, but it’s a very worthy addition and one with historical and aesthetic value.

I, the Executioner [Minagoroshi no reika] was directed by Tai Kato and released in 1968; without giving away any important spoilers, the film depicts a man tracking down a group of women one by one and killing them, whilst the incompetent police try to identify him and protect the women at the same time. Along the way the man befriends Haruko, whose innocent nature stands in contrast to much of the film; this is brutally emphasised by the start of the film, a severely violent rape and murder scene that remains shocking 56 years later. This darkness is maintained throughout the film, aided by the genuinely malevolent, quiet presence of Makoto Satô, the lead actor, and also by the decision to shoot in black and white, at a time when it was rare. The other actors are quite often melodramatic, with lots of shouting from the police in particular; their presence in the film is a difficult one: as the disc extras detail, Kato depicted them as useless and uncaring in order to critique authority, however, much like the (genuinely funny) bumbling cops in Last House on the Left, the police in I, the Executioner do detract from the bleakness of the film, in my opinion. That isn’t a damning critique though, and the film’s atmosphere is created and managed using interesting shots and angles, often obscuring our view of the actors, and effective use of outside locations; it also has some flashback passages where the visuals are blown-out and grainy. The sound of I, the Executioner is notably sparse - and better for it; there’s no music to soften or hide the scenes of violence, though there are short sections of jarring sounds that work effectively.

In terms of extras, there’s not much, but they’re fascinating. As well as a trailer, there’s a twenty-minute appreciation of I, the Executioner and its director by Kenta Fukasaku, son of the noted director Kinji Fukasaku and prolific actor Sanae Nakahara - who actually plays Hashimoto Keiko in the film. This warm and glowing interview remembers Kato as a serious, quiet, and intelligent man, with I, the Executioner as his darkest and deepest film. Fukasaku describes how Kato would achieve his striking low-angle shots by digging holes in the ground for the camera, if needs be, and also brings out the themes of the film very well, historicising it in Japanese history and summarising it as depicting ‘violence for the sake of peace’. The disc is completed by Serial History, a ‘visual essay on Japanese serial killer films’ by Jim Harper and Tom Mes; this sixteen-minute documentary narrates the history of its topic, from Pisutoru gôtô Shimizu Sadakichi [Pistol Robber Shimizu Sadakichi], produced in 1899 and held to be the first Japanese film proper, to more contemporary portrayals. The documentary tells how despite a proliferation of films depicting gangsters, thieves, criminals, etc, murder was largely restricted to samurai films; this changed with Violence at Noon (1966) which centralised the figure of the serial killer. I, the Executioner is positioned in this history as a notable and strong entry, and analysed as a commentary on the increasingly shallow use of sex and violence in Japanese cinema. In the late 1980s the serial killer became a fixture of Japanese horror films, nodding to the US vogue for slasher movies, with numerous acclaimed directors producing works in this area. Serial History notes that many Japanese serial killer films are based on true life cases, and concludes by asking whether the serial killer figure can still be used to question society - as with I, the Executioner - or whether it is now doomed to merely create cheap thrills.

I, the Executioner didn’t blow me away on first watch but - as with many films from other countries, cultures, or times - the extras opened up the film and allowed me to note, comprehend, and enjoy aspects that would have otherwise passed me by. Despite its age, it’s a film that still has the power to trouble the viewer, in terms of visuals and themes, both of which are pursued mercilessly by Kato. Fans of the more extreme end of Japanese cinema will find I, the Executioner an interesting historical precedent, whilst others can simply strap themselves in for the storyline and revel in intriguing and beautiful visuals.