This low budget Japan indie kicked up a right storm upon its release. Amazingly energetic, it took no prisoners with its insane pace and inventive use of metal. Only Japan would even consider such a fusion of metal and human to horrific effect. Not since Videodrome had the human form been twisted in such a way to provide entertainment. Shot cheaply, the grainy B&W handheld approach is an ideal match for the Japanese industrial setting with a metallic soundtrack. Much better than the full blown sequel that followed.
Tetsuo: The Iron Man is like being hit over the head with a scrap metal pipe—repeatedly—for 67 minutes. A Lynchian migraine of a movie, it’s gritty, grotesque, and filmed like someone strapped a 16mm camera to a blender. There’s barely a plot, just chaos: body horror turned up to 11, all sweat, wires and stop-motion squirming. Think Videodrome meets Eraserhead, spliced together with rusted bolts and psycho-sexual angst.
Shot in a Tokyo flat, it’s pure DIY punk—Tsukamoto doesn’t so much direct as detonate. It’s messy, angry, and kind of brilliant. Flesh merges with machine, guilt oozes from pores, and the soundtrack drills straight into your skull. The whole thing feels like a violent panic attack about identity in a mechanised world.
Not for the faint-hearted, and definitely not for everyone—but if you like your horror transgressive, experimental, and absolutely barking, this little metal monster is worth a watch.