ROBO-GEISHA - REVIEW


Memoirs of a Geisha was a fine picture. 

But where were the butt blades? The wig napalm? The giant castle robots? The killer breast milk? The shoulder guns? The rocket half-bodies? The chainsaw faces? 

The answer: in 2009's intentionally goofy trash-terpiece Robo-Geisha

It's no secret that modern Japanese horror died long ago. Some time after Dark Water and before all those rubbish evil Phone or Premonition movies. The first Battle Royale was a breath of fresh air and brought the gore and cartoon-like violence of anime into live-action cinema to create something completely insane, original and utterly brilliant. Alas, for years to come no film would even attempt to match the bold madness of the cult classic action/horror/black comedy... that is until Japanese horror was reborn into Grindhouse-style gore-fests mixing the crazy concepts of Troma films with the fighting, blood and guts of anime and classic action Japanese B movies. Films like The Machine Girl, Vampire Girl vs Frankenstein Girl and Tokyo Gore Police all contributing to the horror genre's rebirth into Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's wet dreams. 


And, indeed, mine.

Robo-Geisha is, strangely, one of the underrated ones. I guess some people must have missed the part where the geisha turns into a TANK and rides along a CGI road as if taking part in a live-action Mario Kart race. Just thinking about that scene is so enjoyable it makes me want to somehow impregnate myself with this movie's baby-making seeds. Oh, and what about that bit where a guy is literally blinded by fried shrimps? The whole thing, from start to finish, is completely tongue-in-cheek and if you start taking anything seriously in a film called "Robo-Geisha" then you are missing the point. The wacky effects, the silly weapons, the clichéd core story, the state-the-obvious dialogs: all hilarious pokes at robot-themed sci-fi action movies.

Robo-Geisha is not only a lot of fun, it's a LOT of fun. Everything, the kitchen sink and everything else is thrown at you to the point where you really don't know what to expect and find yourself drooling at the prospect of yet another gloriously robotic surprise.

Cult gem.


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