In Live, a young Japanese man is forced to participate in a murderous race to save his mother, fighting against similar victims hoping to save their loved ones, a novel relating the same premise as his only guide. Even stranger, the novel’s principal character has his name.
Now I haven’t had the change to see Dead Sushi (Noboru Iguchi, 2012) yet, but if it’s anything like Live, I have to get my hands on a copy. What is most impressive with the film is its infectious energy. As a genre film, it’s not very original, nor does it try to be. It doesn’t try to scare or even be realistic. Iguchi’s art is elsewhere than in the plot; it’s in the public, how they will react, how they will cheer, how they will squirm and cringe collectively. I get the feeling that every death is in anticipation of that, every plot point is sacrificed to the cinematic experience. I mean, you can barely believe some of the things that happen in this movie. And yet, enthralled in the experience, it never matters.
Live is not a movie to watch alone if you’re not a big fan of genre films. It’s also not for everyone. It’s gruesome, inane, and kitsch but oh, what fun!