Possibly even dirtier, more deranged, and more nihilistic than his earlier lumpen street poems to the Japanese underclass, this history of one unholy postwar-Tokyo thug may be Fukasaku's most important and disturbing effort, and certainly finishes off any romanticized notions viewers may have had of their yakuza heroes. Top star Tetsuya Watari burns through the film like hell with a mouth, a low-rent yakuza with a scarred childhood, just itching for any chance to scream, punch, stab, rape, or kill. A metaphorical, pissed-off affront to those still pretending to exist by traditional yakuza codes or honorable cultural rules, he perversely grows more indestructible even as he becomes more discourteous, contemptible, and disgusting. Hurling out enough rage for an entire alienated generation, the film boasts Fukasaku's most bilious moment ever, in which our hero graphically chews his cremated wife's bones. (JS)