Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		2.5
Audio		3.0
Extras		3.0
Overall		3.5

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie Review

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman August 13, 2016

Note: This film is currently available as part of the box set Female Prisoner Scorpion: The Complete Collection.

The damsel in distress has been a cinematic staple since the earliest day of the silents, when aghast audiences were horrified by the sight of some dastardly villain tying a helpless heroine to the railroad tracks (or something like that). Interestingly, that plot device underwent a subtle but ultimately kind of significant change decades later when the whole “women in prison” subgenre started cropping up. Suddenly, the damsels weren’t just in distress, they were surrounded by leering people ostensibly in power, and they also had to suffer various indignities fostered by their fellow inmates. This almost fetishitic subject matter had a zenith of sorts in a series of Japanese exploitation films that began with 1972’s Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion, a series which appeared probably not so coincidentally just as feminism was really starting to gain a toehold globally. Featuring Meiko Kaji, who would go on to star in the Female Prisoner Scorpion sequels as well as the somewhat tonally similar The Complete Lady Snowblood, the Female Prisoner Scorpion films are fascinating not just for their often lurid content, but also for presentational aspects that are oddly if quite interestingly theatrical, giving the films a bit of both the mundane and the arcane.

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion begins in medias res, detailing a prison break by Nami Matsushima (Meiko Kaji) and a fellow woman inmate. The two are desperately running through a swampy thicket, and there are a lot of angry police types after them, some with rather vicious looking German Shepherds. Needless to say, things don’t end well for Nami and her friend, and the two are mercilessly beaten right there in the field, and then taken back to the prison where they’re each put in solitary confinement in “cells” that look like something out of The Man in the Iron Mask. Already screenwriters Fumio Konami and Hirō Matsuda and director Shunya Itō' have telegraphed that they are going to play the film for virtually every exploitation angle they can, and it doesn’t take long before a crew of lecherous male guards has set upon Nami in a patently squirm inducing scene involving bodily penetration with batons, among other horrifying displays.

In what turns out to be one of the stylistic calling cards of this film (and at least somewhat the entire series), a rather interesting flashback details how Nami came to be in such a predicament. This trip down memory lane is handled in an overtly theatrical way, one so theatrical that it may remind lovers of Japanese culture of kabuki outings. The bottom line is that Nami had fallen in love with a police inspector named Sugimi (Isao Natsuyagi) who convinced her to infiltrate a drug running gang, ostensibly to get information. It turns out Nami was being played by the guy, and in a fascinating scene involving a revolving stage, the troubling denouement of the cop’s masquerade is brought home to bear on a distraught Nami. She’s so distraught that she tries to stab Sugimi later on the steps of the police station, something that ends up buying her considerable time in stir.

Without being too glib about it, Nami’s fellow inmates are a “colorful” group of women whom one could easily imagine singing “Cell Block Tango” from Chicago. The sidebar stories are interesting as far as they go (which frankly isn’t all that far), but the focus is resolutely on Nami and her quest for vengeance. Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion doesn’t really pretend to be anything other than pure exploitation fare, though it’s notable that the film actually does manage to work up a fair amount of emotion as Nami undergoes one trauma after another. This is in some ways a “live action cartoon”, simply because it’s so relentlessly over the top, but its inherent unseemliness might make a more apt descriptor “graphic novel”. Extremely graphic, in fact.

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

All four films in Female Prisoner Scorpion: The Complete Collection exhibit some of the same tendencies, and so I'll begin each review with some general comments about the set, including Arrow's description of the provenance of the transfers, before moving on to specific comments about each individual film. Arrow's verbiage on the transfers is as follows:

The films of the Female Prisoner Scorpion Collection have been exclusively restored in 2K resolution for this release by Arrow Films and are presented in their original theatrical aspect ratio of 2.35:1 [Note: The Blu-ray ARs are actually 2.39:1] with mono sound.

A set of low-contrast 35mm prints struck from the original 35mm film elements were supplied by Toei Company, Ltd. These prints were scanned in 2K resolution on a pin-registered 4K Northlight Scanner. Picture grading was completed on a DaVinci Resolve and thousands of instances of dirt, debris and light scratches were removed using PFClean software. Overall image stability and instances of density fluctuation were was also improved. All restoration work was completed at Pinewood Studios.

The images on all four Female Prisoner Scorpion films favor a noticeably cyan/blue look throughout. This look was inherent in the film materials supplied and relates to how these lab materials were created, as well as how the original elements have faded over time. With these restorations, we have aimed to present the films as close to their intended original style and appearance as possible.

In order to better understand what is on tap for the viewer in these presentations it's probably important to try to unpack what the preceding spiel "really" means. The fact that Arrow is commendably forthcoming to state that these were sourced off of low contrast 35mm prints explains one thing, but what exactly the "original 35mm film elements" were is something else entirely, and I personally suspect we're dealing with secondary source elements to begin with (if someone out there has definitive information, pass it along and I'll happily update the review). All four films exhibit "dupey" tendencies, apart and aside from problems introduced by the low contrast source. These include variable (and at times pretty problematic) grain structure, some mosquito noise intruding, especially in darker scenes, horizontal banding/clumping of grain and just a generally roughhewn appearance that often tends to defeat detail and especially fine detail levels. Dark scenes are often littered with crush, and due to the frequent skewing toward blue, blacks can often appear purplish and flesh tones often assume an almost ghastly pallor. In all four films when things venture out of doors in brighter lighting conditions, the palette improves at least incrementally, but there's really nothing here that looks vivid or, more saliently, natural. A little oddly (at least to me), considering the blue look of the films, reds and oranges often come off looking at least relatively better than some other tones.

Though this may be damning with faint praise, by the time you've wended your way through all four films in this set, potentially returning to this first one, you may decide that Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion looks pretty good, at least compared to the other three. That's unfortunately not saying very much since there's that "compared to" built into the assessment. Interestingly, as noted above, reds and oranges still come through agreeably enough despite the obvious tilt toward blue. While the Japanese flag is probably a little oranger than usual, overall the palette looks at least somewhat normal in some early scenes that take place outside. However, the tendency for the image to become buried under swarms of grain and/or noise begins with the first cutaway to the swamp, which is noticeably more roughhewn. There's recurrent crush in the many darker cell scenes, where, for example, the inmates' hair will regularly become "one" with the background shadows. At several moments, the image takes a noticeable downtick in clarity, with some resolution problems attending such sequences as the one around 50:00, where mist tends to give way to mosquito noise (see screenshot 4).

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

All four films feature LPCM Mono tracks in the original Japanese (with optional English subtitles). There's slight but noticeable distortion in the upper midrange, especially during cues. It's somewhat more prevalent in some of the more intense cues, especially those featuring koto (as in Jailhouse 41). #701's Grudge Song probably sounds the best of the bunch, but it's notable that the entire mix seems a little hotter on that film than on the other three. All four films deliver dialogue without much problem, and sound effects (i.e., blades slashing, bullets flying) are generally decent if not overwhelmingly powerful.

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• An Appreciation by Gareth Evans (1080p; 24:34) is an interesting interview from late 2015 where Evans talks about how he became acquainted with the series, and also offers his views on various sequences and ideas in the films.


• Shunya Ito: Birth of an Outlaw (1080p; 15:47) is a 2006 interview with the director of the first three films in the series.


• Yutaka Kohira: Scorpion Old and New (1080p; 14:46) is a 2016 interview with the Assistant Director of the first and fourth films in the series.


• Theatrical Trailers

  Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion (1080p; 3:03)

  Jailhouse 41 (1080p; 3:11)

  Beast Stable (1080p; 3:08)

  #701's Grudge Song (1080p; 3:14)

• Credits (1080p; 00:55) is a list of credits since Arrow chose not to subtitle the actual credits sequence, other than the title song lyric.

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Female Prisoner #701: Scorpion isn't always an "easy" watch, but it's a fascinating one. This is a rare combo platter of High Art and "pulp fiction", and as such it's one of the most unusual films, exploitation or otherwise, from the seventies, and perhaps well beyond (in either direction). As with the other films in this set, there's problematic video, but relatively speaking at least, this first film isn't quite as blue as some of the others.