Comparable to Gaspar Noé’s Irréversible, Osamu Fukutani’s The Last Supper is as much a visual delight as it is a narrative work of genius as the director forges into uncharted territory by providing the first horror film which, not only empathizes, but attempts to understand cannibalism. Not surprisingly, the filmmaker succeeds and, at that, to such an impressive degree as to make his film a near masterpiece.
A plastic surgeon named Yuji Kotorida (Masaya Kato) haphazardly discovers that he fancies the taste of human flesh and, though he has perpetual access to human remains, is forced to procure his meat outside of the office.
To state that Fukutani’s The Last Supper is stylized is an understatement on par with the notion that Stanley Kubrick was “okay” at making motion pictures. From the opening frame onto the last, scene upon scene of surreal expressionism fills the screen as Fukutani’s visual motifs include neon green and red, opposing and conflicting colors on the spectrum which simultaneously serves as an homage to another great work of cannibalistic celluloid, Peter Greenaway’s The Cook the Thief His Wife & Her Lover. Not only does the Japanese filmmaker borrow the color scheme from his predecessor, but like Greenaway, Fukutani issues an equally scathing expose upon the unethical, malicious arrogance of the upper-class as our main character, succinctly fitting right in, is introduced to an underground diner which, for the right price, will provide fresh human flesh upon request.
Not only does Fukutani wisely select Greenway’s footsteps as the correct path in which to tread where Darwinian theory is taken to its extremes, but–by electing to have Kotorida as a plastic surgeon–bypasses the rote depiction of his anthropophagist as the commonplace redneck maniac and, instead–à la Jonathan Demme’s The Silence of the Lambs–posits a refined, unsuspecting caricature which harks back to Patrick Bateman’s distanced coolness by way of Mary Harron’s American Psycho. Yet, Fukutani usurps his forerunners for he, not only explores, but makes his killer’s modus operandi so plausible as to make Kotorida’s actions, not only sympathetic, but almost agreeable.
Such a psychological tour de force is created via flashbacks which reveal that the suave, collected murderer is the product of a tainted childhood replete with taunting and isolation on account of being a malform. Thus, when Kotorida is later seen flaunting his special meat as he issues it to unsuspecting people (who are always part of the “in crowd”), we inwardly chuckle along with the character. Of course, the doctor’s misanthropy becomes his Achilles Heel before the picture’s end but not before Fukutani pauses to acknowledge why killers, though–as the most reprehensible of the entire criminal element–they should be overtly renounced, are the focus of countless fixations and, in some cases, average citizens’ infatuations (however paradoxically, it is well known that convicted serial killers receive love letters while serving their sentences). As such, more than once Kotorida is told that he is a “god” in the eyes of those around him, which becomes ironical in that such notions of Ubermenschian omnipotence is the motive behind killers’ constant popularity in that they, like a deity, choose who lives and who dies.
Masterfully, though the work could have easily been cast as a black humor piece, The Last Supper to told in a straightforward manner (that is, barring the wryly placed picture of a crucified Christ in the doctor’s apartment, which all but utters to the viewer, “ . . . body of . . .”). It is with this that the film, like the aforementioned psycho Patrick Bateman, conveys a sense of coldness which is second only to the chill created in Fukutani forcing his audience to nod in appreciation of the killer’s dedication to his culinary craft after we witness the laborious extents to which the surgeon goes in order to perfect his various recipes.
Osamu Fukutani’s daunting–dare I say, ground breaking–visual treat of inverted narrative feasibility, The Last Supper, is one of the most impressive works to appear in recent memory, to say nothing of the fact that it is only the director’s second production. Not only does the filmmaker go the distance to fashion an intriguing story, but he challenges himself, as well as his audience, by eschewing the easy route of providing yet another mundane depiction of a crazed, unbathed psycho killer who, for untold reasons, favors the taste of human flesh, and instead offers a work which so vividly makes his viewer believe that what is occurring onscreen is well within the realm of reason that–upon recognizing what Fukutani has achieved–that is, made you readily concur with a cannibal’s actions and cravings–the only thing left is do is chuckle and applaud the director for his cinematically acute, inspired vision.
-Egregious Gurnow
- Interview with J.R. Bookwalter - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Andrew J. Rausch - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Rick Popko and Dan West - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Director Stevan Mena (Malevolence) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Screenwriter Jeffery Reddick (Day of the Dead 2007) - January 22, 2015
- Teleconference interview with Mick Garris (Masters of Horror) - January 22, 2015
- A Day at the Morgue with Corri English (Unrest) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Writer/Director Nacho Cerda (The Abandoned, Aftermath) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actress Thora Birch (Dark Corners, The Hole, American Beauty) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actor Jason Behr, Plus Skinwalkers Press Coverage - January 22, 2015
