Japanese provocateur Teruo Ishii, best known in the West for 1969's Horrors of Malformed Men, was a master of the anthology or portmanteau film. Decades before Japanese extremist Miike Takashi arrived on the scene, Ishii was a prolific director who had already churned out 50 films before 1968's Shogun's Joy of Torture. This erotic-grotesque or ero-guro film consists of three stories set in the Edo period that end in the torture primarily (but not exclusively) of women. Though claims of misogyny are not misplaced, it isn't without visual artistry, historical interest, or full-bodied performances--including an excessive amount of R-rated nudity. Curious viewers will know whether they can handle it by the prologue in which Ishii depicts the beheading and bisection of a crucified woman with no explanation as to her identity or purported crime. From that attention-grabbing sequence, he segues to the first story, which involves devoted sister Mitsu (Masumi Tachibana) and her grievously-injured brother Shinzō (Teruo Yoshida). In order to provide for his care, she agrees to serve as his boss's mistress. As the siblings struggle with their feelings, their emotionally dependent relationship segues into incest. When the master catches them in the act, everyone suffers as knives, switches, and crucifixes come into play. The next story involves Buddhist nuns, Reiho and Rintoku (Yukie Kagawa and Naomi Shiraishi), involved in a lesbian relationship. Since their order forbids sexual relations, they're already breaking the rules even as they enforce celibacy.
When they find that one of their ranks has been cavorting with a monk, they ensure that both participants receive punishment involving water torture and buckets of eels, but the conclusion provides a lesson in hypocrisy since neither nun gets away scot-free. The third and final story ramps up the violence, yet it's also the most successful in terms of the director's themes. In this case, sociopathic tattoo artist Horicho (Asao Koike) sets out to impress Lord Nanbara (Fumio Watanabe) with his most realistic work by abducting a naïve young woman and tattooing her back with scenes of torture the sadistic lord allows him to witness. Instead of passively observing, Horicho encourages him to escalate his medieval reign of brutality against female missionaries convicted of promoting Christianity. Then he encourages the lord to pose as an ogre, a fateful decision that leads to a chaotic conflagration. Intentionally or otherwise, Ishii seems to be commenting on artists who go to extremes, much like himself, to produce work intended to provoke. As Horicho puts it, "Torturers must feel the pain they inflict on the tortured." Yoshida, who plays a dual role as Shinzō and Yoshioka, a court judge, serves as the linking device between the stories by introducing each one. A film of such a controversial nature deserves proper context, and Arrow Films has done right by Shogun's Joy of Torture with extras featuring Japanese film historians Patrick Macias, Jasper Sharp, and Tom Mes that provide illuminating details about the director, genre, studio, and performers. A strong optional selection. (K. Fennessy)