Tetsuo was released in 1989 and directed by Japanese filmmaker Shinya Tsukamoto. It’s still his most well-known work, but he’s also garnered accolades for his other films, especially A Snake of June from 2002. Tetsuo is the first feature Tsukamoto made as an adult and he had previously only worked with 8mm film. It’s a good example of auteur theory as he was also credited as writer, producer, editor, art director, and he did the cinematography with Kei Fujiwara. He even stars as the Metal Fetishist and did all the animation himself. Tsukamoto has gone on to have a pretty notable acting career, working with acclaimed directors like Martin Scorsese in Silence and Takashi Miike with Ichi the Killer. He also lent his voice to the Japanese version of Metal Gear Solid 4.
The first Tetsuo film is an insane, visceral experience dripping in style. It was shot on grainy black and white 16mm film, which leads to a very gritty look. Tsukamoto uses high contrast imagery, extreme camera angles and frenzied, hectic editing to overwhelm and bombard the viewer. At times, the camera will even go completely sideways.
Stop motion photography is used throughout and is a distinct part of Tetsuo’s aesthetic. These effects are technically impressive as well as visually stimulating and the prosthetic work is equally skillful. Dialogue is kept to a minimum as Tsukamoto chose to tell the story more through visuals and this sometimes makes Tetsuo feel more like a music video than a movie.
The industrial electronic soundtrack from Chu Ishikawa is also key to the film’s success. It’s an abrasive, intense, relentless score that I find worth listening to on its own.
The acting is often very over the top and characters display ridiculous facial expressions. In a more traditional movie this would be considered a flaw, but it fits in the with the absurd reality of the film.
The pacing is pretty quick as a lot is packed into Tetsuo’s short 67 minute runtime. A relatively short length is ideal for something like this, as the experimental, intense style might get old over two hours.
Many, many different interpretations have been offered in regards to the film’s story, themes, and message. Obviously the relationship between technology and humanity is a key theme. Some have also speculated that Tetsuo is a metaphor for discovering one’s homosexuality.
In my opinion, it’s better to think of the film as an experience rather than trying to break it down logically. The story is so vague that interpretations could be endless.
Tetsuo is often compared to Eraserhead, largely due to visual similarities. They are both filmed in grainy black and white long after color film became commonplace and they both have a industrial soundtrack, although Eraserhead’s score is more atmospheric and less noticeable.
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| Still from Eraserhead (1977) |
They also both have strong body horror elements and Tsukamoto has stated that he’s a fan of David Lynch. But thematically, Tetsuo is closer to the work of director David Cronenberg, who Tsukamoto has also cited as an influence. The inspiration from Cronenberg’s 1983 film Videodrome clear as both involve the fusion of humans and technology, as well as transgressive, sadomasochistic sexual acts.
Tetsuo is also strongly inspired by Japan’s storied tradition of horror, especially those from the 1960s.
The Iron Man was highly influential and helped kickstart a new era of experimental Japanese film in the 1990s and 2000s that was full of transgressive, violent films from directors like Takashi Miike.
Tetsuo has a similar look to the 1990 film Begotten, which was also shot on black and white 16mm, but Begotten was produced for over three years, so this may just be a result of shared influences like Eraserhead.
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| Still from Begotten (1990) |
Tsukamoto’s film is a pretty early example of the science fiction subgenre known as cyberpunk that combines futuristic technology with dystopia, or depictions of lower levels of society, crime, or social upheaval.
Tetsuo: The Iron Man is obviously not for everyone. To appreciate it the viewer has to be open to the bizarre, as well as explicit violence and sex. They have to be willing to think of film as an experience rather than simply a traditional storytelling medium. It’s definitely a must-see for anyone interested in cult or avant-garde cinema. And if you’re not that well-versed in those types of films but want to go deeper, Tetsuo isn’t a bad choice as it’s pretty short and visually stimulating.
The original Tetsuo has a respectable 77% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
The wait for a sequel wasn’t long as Tetsuo II: Body Hammer was released in 1992.
The biggest, most obvious change from the original Tetsuo to its sequel is the move from black and white to color, which has both positive and negative effects. One of the main negatives about this is that the surreal, heightened reality of these films as well as the over the top, cheesy elements are easier to accept in black and white. Monochrome isn’t how we see things in reality, so this inherently sets an otherworldly tone.
However, Tetsuo II definitely has some striking uses of vivid color. There are multiple shots that are dominated by a single color, like some being very red and others being extremely blue.
Body Hammer was also shot on 35mm film as opposed to 16mm, so it loses the graininess that was crucial to the first’s aesthetic.
Besides these significant changes, the visual style of the two films are actually quite similar in some ways. There’s plenty of handheld, shaky camerawork and fast editing in both and each of them uses stop-motion animation. But in this one, the camera has more of a floaty feel, at least in the calmer parts.
Tetsuo II is still a pretty singular vision as Tsukamoto again filled most of the major creative crew positions as well as again playing a major role. While not on the same level as the original, it has a distinct style.
Body Hammer is less raw and a bit more polished than the first Tetsuo as it had a higher budget. It’s also longer than the original and it lasts a more traditional feature length of 82 minutes.
Tetsuo II has more of a traditional, coherent narrative and is a relatively calm, subdued experience. It has more of an actual story and the characters are more fleshed out.
The score is definitely not as good as Iron Man’s. It’s not bad, but more generic, despite being written by the same composer.
The best part of Body Hammer is easily the ending, where it finally comes close to the insanity of the first film.
It’s pretty uncommon for art house type movies to become a series, and Body Hammer blurs the line between sequel and remake. It’s not really a continuation of the story, but rather another presentation of the same general ideas.
Unlike Iron Man, I can’t call the second installment essential viewing for those simply into avant-garde film, but for those that liked the first, Tetsuo II is definitely worth checking out.
Body Hammer was well-received but didn’t have anywhere near the impact of the original.
The wait was much longer for the third film as it didn’t come out until 2009, 17 years after Tetsuo II. Again, Tsukamoto acted, wrote, directed, produced, and edited along with doing the cinematography and production design. He said that he got offers from famous American producers like Quentin Tarantino, but decided to stick with having as much control as possible.
The music is a highlight as Chu Ishikawa also returned to do the score, and there’s even a track from Nine Inch Nails over the credits.
Like the second film’s shift from black and white to color, the third Tetsuo installment likewise had a huge change, this time being from the Japanese language to English.
Like the previous big stylistic departure, I feel this had a detrimental effect on the film, at least from the English-speaking perspective. Tsukamoto had been planning an English Tetsuo for a decade, but obviously it’s not his native language, which always makes things harder. The film was still shot in Tokyo and made by Japanese production companies.
A lot of the dialogue sounds pretty cheesy and I can’t help but wonder if this would have been less of a problem if the actors were speaking in their native language. Also as an American, reading the dialogue in subtitles and hearing it in a foreign tongue makes it easier to stomach silly lines. The stilted dialogue may have been an intentional choice, but it just didn’t work for me. The acting has always been over the top in these films, but this one took it to a whole new level.
Bullet Man has a distinctly different look compared to both the previous entries. There’s still handheld, shaky cam pretty much throughout Tetsuo III, but the framing is more traditional.
Tsukamoto uses an at times absurd amount of dissolves and in one scene they even start happening every few seconds. This may be a sort of Brechtian distancing technique to make viewers aware of the form itself.
It’s also shot digitally and in color, so it’s far from the grainy look of the 1989 original. This is part of what makes the film look a little cheap. The first two didn’t have massive budgets, but they managed to avoid looking amateurish.
The more quiet dialogue scenes are definitely the worst parts of the film, but there are definitely some really cool parts where it gets more intense or trippy as well. Unfortunately, the ending does not pack the punch of those of either of the other Tetsuo films.
Bullet Man just feels a little tame compared to both of the previous entries. It’s also more action-oriented and horror elements are largely absent.
Like Tetsuo II the third film doesn’t really have continuity with the others, as it’s more of a reimagining of the story. Also, like the sequel, it gives much more of an explanation of the plot than the original, which at times feels tedious. Tetsuo works better as a visceral, rather than literal, work of art. It kind of felt like the more easily digestible plot along with the switch to English were in an attempt to reach a broader audience.
As with the two earlier Tetsuo movies, this one is paced pretty well and moves along quickly.
In my opinion, this is definitely the worst of the trilogy, but the good elements still make this worth watching, especially for those who loved the first two.
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