Japan has proven itself capable of producing some pretty bizarre films, and, while I am no aficionado, I have to image that this one is somewhere near the top of the stack. If I were to say that Tokyo Gore Police is bizarre, grotesque, perverse, and violent, I would hardly be scratching the surface. This is a mind-bending descent into the deepest depravities of society -- a descent so deep that its surroundings become surrealistic. Its view is one of dismay, and the only optimism it sees is one that relies on digging even further below those who have turned our world into a place of horrors.

There is a mad scientist, "Keyman," residing in modern-day Japan and turning people into abominations, called "Engineers" by the police force. The Engineers are not only ruthless, degenerate murderers; they are also endowed with the ability to generate weapons from any serious wound. The first Engineer encountered in the film wields a chainsaw, and when his arm is shot off, another one grows back in its place -- with a new chainsaw attached. This is the film's least bizarre example of the Engineers' regenerative ability. The only way to kill an Engineer is to extract or destroy a key-shaped tumor which is to be found somewhere inside each one of them. Tokyo's police force, which the film makes a point to tell us multiple times has been privatized, relies on an especially talented young female officer, Ruka, to kill Engineers whenever they are encountered.

As outlandish and repulsive as Tokyo Gore Police can be, it is well made all around. Its most prominent component, you will likely guess, is its imagery. There are beyond-disgusting visual gags everywhere, to be sure, but there are also more elegant visual touches, found in the cinematography. From the beginning of the film, each locale expresses a color as if it were communicating its own personality. The green and yellow glow of many of the Engineers' locations looks and feels as sick as the minds of those who inhabit them. The darkness of other places seems to be competing with the events that occur there.

The point of the film is that those who have been wronged by society, which is viewed as insanely corrupt, are the ones who have the power to change it. The first few seconds of Tokyo Gore Police present an idyllic world, in which police officers are paragons and the bad guys cannot reach us. That perspective is quickly and violently destroyed by the assassination of Ruka's father, a police officer, and later the police force itself demonstrates the capacity to commit atrocities nearing those of any Engineer. It's just that their means of doing so are (usually) more conventional. Keyman turns out to be the product of circumstances similar to Ruka's, but, unlike Ruka, who did not know the full details of her father's death, Keyman knows that his own father's similar death was the doing of the police force. Thus, out of vengeance, he injected himself with genetic samples from serial killers and became the monster he is. When he eventually explains to Ruka the police force's responsibility for her father's murder, she nevertheless rejects his cause. Later, however, witnessing firsthand the injustice and sadism of the police, she accepts what was almost destined to be her role as an Engineer and turns against the very body of police that raised her and cared for her after her father's death. It is the ultimate act of rebellion.

The aim of Keyman, and of the film, is the subversion of this corrupt society. Perhaps the film's strongest statement lies in a club scene. In this scene we find the glorification of what virtually anyone would deem revolting. The club sells private time with some of Keyman's female projects to eager patrons, some of whom appear satisfied just to be present at such a display. There is a woman with a penis for a nose. There is another with eyeballs pulled from their sockets and placed in the ends of clear tubes protruding from the sockets from which the eyes were pulled. Then, to outdo everything else, we are shown what Keyman must consider to be his masterpiece. When I tell you that it is a woman made into a chair, you cannot even begin to conjure an accurate image in your mind.

What makes this film's rebellion theme stand out from others is that, whereas in many movies rebellion is portrayed as a cool, this movie portrays it as a truly ugly thing. These rebels are not the ones teenagers have posters of their bedrooms; these are hideously deformed beasts, sacrificing everything to undermine the corruption in society. Despite the film's surface surrealism, its handling of the concept of rebellion is more realistic, and more powerful, than that of most movies that tackle the subject.

Tokyo Gore Police is not so much a shock film as it is a SHOCK film. It is one of the few movies I have seen that is so viscerally disturbing that its absurd, and frequently comedic, nature does not keep it from being disturbing. What is equally surprising about it, though, is the care with which it is constructed. Its rampant gore is an attention-getter, but it is also an expression of how horrible people can make our world. This is a film that offers an honest, gritty, and un-glorified look at subversion -- for those who can stomach it.