Prison Walls

Directed by Teruo Ishii and starring the ever excellent Ken Takakura as a young Yakuza, PRISON WALLS (aka ABASHIRI PRISON 1-3, all made in 1965) offers grit, tension and action although it would be fair to say that the first installment is particularly bleak. Ironically, it’s also the best out of the three. Eureka Video has just released all three films newly restored in a Blu-ray box set.

To put it upfront, the Abashiri Prison series spawned a whopping 18 films shot between 1965 and 1972, of which the first ten were written and directed by Teruo Ishii. The infamous Abashiri Prison was constructed in the late nineteenth century to house political prisoners though it served as an inspiration for the aforementioned string of Yakuza movies. It is the northernmost prison in Japan – to be more precise in Abashiri, Hokkaido Prefecture which is the coldest part of the country near the Abashiri River and the snow-swept landscape east of Mount Tento.

The first two installments were loosely based on Hajime Ito’s novel, himself a prisoner in Abashiri during the 1950’s. However, director Ishii thought very little of the novel and demanded that he write his own script, which is just as well because the result is impressive. Toei Studios insisted that one of their most prolific stars, Ken Takakura, should also be the star of the series – an inspired move as his brooding presence dominates the scenes to great effect.

ABASHIRI PRISON – the first of the three, was filmed in b/w and promoted as a B-movie shown as part of a double-bill upon its initial release. Somehow, the mono-chrome hues work perfectly and enhance the bleakness of it all. In the centre of the action is Shinichi Tachibana (K. Takakura), a Yakuza sent to Abashiri as punishment for attacking a rival gangster. Inside the prison, he gets acquainted with the other inmates who reveal their reasons as to why they are serving time. Scenes of the harsh day-to-day prison routine are interspersed with flashback sequences depicting how Shinichi came to enter the underworld and it goes back to a highly dysfunctional family life. It’s a clever touch as it emphasises the human aspect and adds depth to the character. In fact, Shinichi has a good heart, he just happened to fall in with the wrong crowd after leaving home following a heated argument with his despicable stepfather. He only has six months left to serve out of the three years and even becomes somewhat of a model prisoner.

His parole officer, Tsumaki (Tetsuro Tamba), firmly believes that Shinichi can be integrated into society again after his release. However, when Shinichi receives a letter from his sister informing him that their mother has fallen seriously ill with cancer and the family doesn’t have the money for medical treatment, he begs Tsumaki to allow him to go see his dying mother… especially because he feels guilty about having abandoned her and his sister due to his fighting with the abusive stepfather. Tsumaki replies that he cannot just grant him temporary leave on compassionate grounds which involves a bureaucratic process, however, he promises that he will do his utmost to ensure Shinichi can see his dying mother. Weeks pass with nothing happening and escape is increasingly on the mind of Shinichi.

The chance arrives when an escape, orchestrated by Heizo Yoda (Toru Abe) results in the psychopathic Gonzo Gonda (Koji Nanbara) escaping from a truck which is meant to drive the prisoners to a spot where they have to fall trees. Other prisoners also jump off the truck and are swiftly pursued by the armed guards. As it so happens, Shinichi is shackled to Gonda and the two men, who dislike each other, first escape in a nail-biting sequence on a railway hand cart before things become even more tense… It’s worth mentioning that in all three films, Ken Takakura sings the opening and closing song, which serves as a ‘narrative in a nutshell’ so to speak.

Given the technical difficulties (never mind the physical strain) encountered while filming the first instalment in the icy cold landscape of Hokkaido, it was decided that the follow-up – ANOTHER ABASHIRI PRISON STORY should be filmed on the main island of Honshu with its considerably milder climate.

It was also filmed in colour. This second instalment (lighter in tone and with more humour) is the only entry in the entire series in which the story (and the characters) continues from the first film. Here, Shinichi is newly freed from prison and attempts to become a respectable member of society again, however, the past (and some familiar faces from the first film) comes back to haunt him when a violent bank heist, during which precious diamonds are stolen and are hidden inside algae balls, get him into trouble when one of the algae balls go missing during the cruise on a ship. Before he knows it, Shinichi and his old cell mate unwittingly find themselves embroiled in a scenario where the thieves are after the lost loot while at the same time, the police are of course also searching for the criminals and with Shinichi’s past, it goes without saying that he is considered to be one of the culprits. Now he must fight to protect his freedom… and his life, because soon, the diamond thieves are after him as well. There’s a also a little bit of romance for our anti-hero in the shape of Yumi (Michiko Saga), a feisty pickpocket who falls for Shinichi – and even a bit of kink courtesy of Michiko (Yoko Mihara), a married stripper and mother with a penchant for booze who performs quite a memorable show during a cabaret sequence. The film’s climax is hugely original but we won’t give anything away here.

The third instalment, ABASHIRI PRISON: SAGA OF HOMESICKNESS sees some of the same faces from the previous two films yet again, albeit as completely different characters with different names and identities. In fact, in terms of plot this third film has little to do with the previous two films whatsoever and thus makes things perhaps rather confusing. Only Takakura plays the same character again as Shinichi who now returns to his hometown of Nagasaki to visit the grave of his mother. At the same time, he reunites with his old Yakuza mates, all of whom have decided it’s time to go straight and lead respectable lives. Of course, we know that this is not going to happen when the rival gang, who were responsible for Shinichi ending up in Abashiri Prison to begin with, find out about his return and now leave no stone unturned to make his life as unpleasant as possible – so much so that Shinichi is left with no alternative but to take them on…

While many fans of the franchise consider the third instalment to be the best out of the three for the simple reason that it is much more of a straight Yakuza film than the first and the second one, this reviewer begs to differ, for one, it has a rather soppy subplot concerning an apparently orphaned little black girl who befriends Shinichi and helps him more than once. Despite all the best intentions, the ‘girl’ is played by an Asian boy with black make-up that shines so much, it has the appearance of greasy shoe polish and looks simply ridiculous. For all its best intentions with the message that a person’s skin colour does not matter, this idea spectacularly backfires. On the plus side, the finale (a sword fight) is worth every second and of course, our battered Shinichi walks off into the horizon.

As usual with Eureka, plenty of Bonus Material here including interviews, audio commentary and a Collector’s booklet. The first 2000 copies are presented in a Limited Edition O-card slipcase.