While fairly prolific with a handful of noteworthy films to his credit, Japanese film critic-turned-filmmaker Yasuzo Masumura is not a name well known to western viewers. The UK-based video distributor Arrow Films seeks to remedy that with this duo of two inchoate, black-and-white crime dramas he made around the same time, tastefully rendered by modern standards, but still portraying a morally corrupt and compromised world.
From 1962, The Black Test Car (based on a Sueyuki Kajiyama novel) is a noirish industrial-espionage tale, shot and edited in staccato-punchy style, in which Japanese automotive company Tiger Motors schemes to gain on arch-rival Yamato with a new sports car. But Yamato's boss Mawatari seems to be one step ahead, pointing to the conclusion that a spy is in Tiger's executive inner circle.
Company man Toru goes as far as prostituting his own bar-hostess fiancée out to Yamato's dissolute CEO to gain inside information, one of a catalog of dirty tricks that parallel capitalism with wartime intrigue (top automotive magnates are even stated to have formerly been officers in the vicious Japanese occupation of Manchuria, lest the point is lost); ultimately even Toru is disgusted by the extremes of corporate skullduggery. Many low-angle scenes are suited men gathered grimly in small rooms, more like yakuza gangsters than businessmen—as though there's any difference.
Slightly more heroic is the police in the lesser-known The Black Report, AKA The Black Statement Book, a Masumura film from 1963 (The Black Test Car sparked a marketing trend in using "Black" in thriller-movie titles). This time the CEO of a food company has been bludgeoned to death and forensic evidence points to the guilt of one of his salarymen, who may well have been carrying on an affair with the victim's much-younger, conspicuously calm and detached wife.
Detective Akira dutifully gathers all the clues, pointing to an adulterous romantic triangle with money a strong motivating factor for homicide. But when the case makes it to court, witnesses recant, a notorious defense lawyer discredits much of the evidence, and the underfunded, overworked cops see their case crumble.
Besides an image gallery and trailers, the principle disc extra is a visual essay by critic Jonathan Rosenbaum, covering Masumura's film legacy (inconsistent as it was; the director clearly took a number of jobs strictly for employment's sake) and hoping that greater international appreciation for the filmmaker awaits. Highly recommended for foreign-language cinema collections.