I, the Executioner

Up there with Oshima's Violence at Noon and Imamura's Vengeance Is Mine as one of Japan's most disturbing anatomies of a serial killer, Kato's shattering film eschews suspense (it confronts male violence against women head-on from its very first shot) in favour of mystery. What links the murders of five women with the suicide of a 16-year-old delivery boy? Plodding cops (one with a bad case of piles) investigate, and solarised flashbacks eventually provide a denouement, but the near metaphysical ending ensures that the mystery somehow lingers. Kato anchors it in location-shot observation of Tokyo's quotidian realities, which makes the unorthodox approach to questions of sexual politics all the more bracing.