In the early 90s UK manga boom, there was a fear that "Japanimation" was corrupting our youth, and Urotsukidōji: Legend of the Overfiend was the absolute poster child for what parents feared we were watching on VHS. Joining this infamous shortlist was 1987's Wicked City by Yoshiaki Kawajiri—the very definition of late-night, top-shelf anime salaciousness and the kind of movie people assumed you’d only find nestled between Ninja Scroll and Akira in a dusty comic shop somewhere in Soho. However, it was everywhere, including Virgin Megastore, HMV and Forbidden Planet, as well as my precious Rodney's Books and Games. I never watched the film at the time but thought I'd give it a look now to correct my old-skool manga knowledge gap. So, how does it fare?
Well, the film wastes no time setting its dark tone, giving us THE iconic spider-woman scene within the first five minutes—one I'd heard about from friends over 30 years ago but had never experienced until now. Our protagonist, Taki, thinks he’s getting lucky with a beautiful woman in a bar, only for her to transform into a terrifying arachnid demon, sprouting massive legs from her torso to pin him down. It’s a legendary piece of body horror that instantly hooks you, setting the stage for a pretty straightforward, hard-boiled noir affair where Taki, a member of the secret "Black Guard," must protect a fragile peace treaty between the human world and the demon realm.
The animation is gorgeous, fluid, and has that signature Kawajiri sense of style that perfectly evokes the era; it looked head and shoulders above most other studios at the time. We get heavy shadows, stark neon blues and purples, and framing that feels incredibly cinematic. While Demon City Shinjuku kept its edge-lord tendencies relatively reined in, Wicked City dives straight into the deep end of problematic territory. The film is packed with gratuitous sex and graphic sexual violence, featuring tentacle assaults and demon violations that definitely push past simple fanservice and into genuinely uncomfortable territory.
It’s a product of its time, and the characters fit those 80s archetypes perfectly: Taki is your quintessential trench-coat-wearing, chauvinistic slacker who happens to be a badass with a gun, while his demon partner, Makie, actually gets some great moments of agency and holds her own in a fight, even if the script constantly subjects her to distress. This is all brought to life by voice acting that is highly indicative of the era's localization quality—which is to say, the dub is gloriously wooden. Taki sounds like a man trying to read a grocery list while doing a flat Clint Eastwood impression, and the ancient mystic they are protecting sounds like a bizarre, screeching caricature. It is stiff, clunky, and completely drains the tension from otherwise horrific scenes, but honestly? I love it. It adds a brilliant layer of unintentional comedy to an otherwise grim, self-serious movie.
Overall, whilst problematic for its gratuitous sexual violence, the lush animation, iconic framing, and that legendary opening five minutes make it almost mandatory viewing for fans of peak bubble-era Japanese animation. It’s well worth the 80 minutes or so of your time... just maybe don't watch it with your other half.
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LINK- Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review
LINK- Monster City- Cult Manga Review
LINK- Japan: My Journey to the East
LINK- The Offworld Collection- Book Review
LINK- Manga Exhibition at the British Museum
LINK- The Midnight Library and the Idea That You Can’t Go Home Again
LINK- The Transportive Nature of Objects (And the Power of Mini Consoles)