IZO's opening scene, depicting the vicious execution of murderous warrior Izo Okada, is the first of many moments in the movie that will lead audiences astray. The unsuspecting viewer may find comfort in the notion that a safe chambara yarn lies ahead, and even those familiar with director Takashi Miike's work know that he's capable of more docile product. Soon, however, a revolution through killing is awoken. The animal fragmentation of Izo is set loose to crawl, run and tumble through the fabric of reality, and it's clear that we're in someone else's world now. 

Kazuya Nakayama is a beast as Izo; completely out of control. It's exhausting to follow him from scene to scene, something that's exacerbated by his feral growls and guttural screams. As a spirit bearing a grudge against all that exists, he is a devastatingly sad character. Blazing through time like a freight train, he's constantly facing the impossibility of change without ever being able to flip the brakes. Shigenori Takechi wrote the script with Nakayama in mind, and it most definitely paid off. His transformation into a more demonic form is gradual and terrifying. 

The only thing that stops Izo himself from materializing into pure beaming spotlight is the mountainous cast of stars in the movie. Beat Takeshi, Susumu Terajima, Ken Ogata– The list goes on and on from scene to scene. The sheer abundance of name actors pulling short shifts in the film almost belies IZO's cyclical nature of repetition. Flipping through so many segments of history like a hyperactive child on his sixth bowl of cereal momentarily obscures the futility of Izo's journey, and the fruitlessness of all of the bloodshed. 

And there's a lot of it, too. Even the overly squeamish will find themselves somewhat desensitized by the time the credits roll. IZO purposefully works violence until it doesn't work any more, and then it brandishes its sword for another round, forcing it to work again. It may seem to soar past the reaches of excess to some, but the gachunk-chunk of sword meeting flesh is the backbone of the film. The fact that there's too much of it largely illustrates the most crushing facet of the character himself, eternally trapped in death and rebirth ad infinitum. 

Miike loads IZO to the brim with metaphorical imagery. The whole production almost has a Teruo Ishii feel to it. Whether it's the subject matter or the dreamlike sets at the Toei Kyoto studios, there's some kind of ancient spirit in the work that's similar to what drives some of its characters to act as walls while Izo remains the perpetual wrecking ball. The temporality of the movie is as jagged and loose as Izo's vengeful spirit. From the pits of the 21st century to the anachronistic lair of Japan's aristocracy, the freeform nature of the movie echoes the wild, string-snapping acoustic guitar and convulsive voice-work that Kazuki Tomokawa haunts us with sporadically throughout the duration. This aspect of IZO may try the patience of many, as it attempts to metamorphose a seemingly disjointed concept into a firmly webbed-together whole through acts of treading the same ground continuously. 

So obviously IZO isn't for everyone. A lot of people will simply take it as 128 minutes of gratuitous violence. On the other hand, the movie will and has likely claimed a number of fans in that regard. IZO will be much more appreciated by those with a firmer grasp of the historical relevancy of the titular character and the players in the world he's cutting through. That's not to say that there is a requisite amount of knowledge required for a basic enjoyment of the movie, but the degree to which it becomes more than what it presents on the surface depends on what you're willing to invest. 

For some reason, many fans that were formerly excited by Miike have left his camp in search of whatever is deemed to be the next big pompadour of Japanese filmmaking. With films like IZO, however, it's surprising to see fewer people embracing such ballsy work. The movie takes some effort on the audience's behalf, and it isn't the easiest movie to watch, but IZO is rewarding as a raw viewing experience that has more to say than it would seem under compounded layers of crimson arterial spray.