This review comes with the disclaimer that I am not particularly interested in exploitation cinema, nor the pinku genre to which this film belongs. While Toho has occasionally been involved with movies in this category, primarily through distribution rather than production such as with the subject matter here, in general they never embraced it in the way other studios did. Anyway, I’m the wrong target audience for this movie, and if you like these genres keep that in mind. That also said, if you are curious on the perspective of someone without much interest in these genres and how they might view a film that falls within them, then read on as we dive into the 1973 exploitation film Rica: Juvenile’s Lullaby.
Now this particular movie is the third and final chapter in the Rica trilogy, released at a time where getting a trilogy felt common place for exploitation films ala Hanzo the Razor: Sword of Justice (1972) and Anecdotes of a High School Delinquent (1972). Instead of being directed by Ko Nakahira, who helmed the first two films in the series, Rica: Juvenile’s Lullaby is directed by the acclaimed Kozaburo Yoshimura. This marks a strange addition to Yoshimura’s filmography, and is also one of his last films as he would exit cinema in 1974 for health reasons. To be blunt, despite the talent involved, including Yoshimura’s frequent writer Kaneto Shindo, Rica: Juvenile’s Lullaby ultimately falls short and fails to make an impact.
In terms of the plot, Rica has recently been submitted to the corrupt Aiyu Reform School. There she and other girls, who are initially antagonistic toward Rica under the leadership of “Tornado” Oman, are persecuted by the staff (some of which are unexplainedly draped in Third Reich uniforms) . Eventually, though, an opportunity for escape presents itself and Rica manages to flee, returning to her hometown of Yokohama. Once there she rescues a black woman and her daughter Jun, who fell into the sea in a failed attempt at a double suicide. After learning that Jun resents her mother for causing her to be of mixed heritage, Rica, of mixed heritage herself, ends up befriending Jun. However, they are attacked by Gonta and his gang, a group of delinquent students who persecute those of foreign and mixed decent. Rica fights them off numerous times, but eventually they kidnap Jun. With her, the gang plans to sell Jun to a potential buyer, who turns out to be a “trade merchant” that her mother once worked for as a maid. Unfortunately, the buyer’s true intentions are extremely sinister: he intends to have Jun raped in the production of an adult film featuring a live virgin. Determined to save her, Rica enlists the help of Oman and her fellow escapees from the reform school. Together, they manage to rescue Jun and eliminate everyone involved in the exploitative scheme.
Is the plot silly? Yes. Does it deal with pretty heavy topics like racism and rape in sometimes immature ways? Oh you better believe it.
The film is best described as zany with dark elements to it. In fact, there is quite a bit of humor infused in the action on screen. However, it’s silly to the point it feels like the target audience was pre-high school teen boys. This also means the humor rarely ever lands, instead being of the groan inducing variety.
Humor aside, the plot of Rica: Juvenile’s Lullaby is rather disjointed, with numerous narrative detours that make the story feel scattered. I can’t fault the film for leaving loose ends, as characters who seem unrelated will come back in later during the film, but the overall structure is very uneven. A notable shift in focus also comes when the main antagonist changes from Gonta to a flamboyant “trade merchant” character, who is only briefly mentioned before his reveal late in the film. Even stranger is the fact that this “trade merchant” is swiftly eliminated as part of Rica’s plan to rescue Jun, leaving behind a series of faceless henchmen as the final threats. This is all also not even touching on the subplot where Rica is briefly sent back to the Aiyu Reform School, only to be transferred to an insane asylum. This subplot mainly serves to reunite Rica with her future frenemy, “Tornado” Oman, who ultimately helps in the rescue mission to save Jun. It’s a convoluted route, though, that needs quite a bit of setup and with the introduction of a lot of side characters.
Speaking of the characters, they are generally paper thin, although it does oddly spend quite a bit of time developing one of the villains: Gonta. His back story, shown in a lengthy flashback, is that he had feelings for a girl who was raped by American soldiers located on Okinawa. She eventually commits suicide and he takes revenge, killing some soldiers there as retribution. It’s a pretty heavy backstory, and actually works well in giving perspective on what started him down the path of his racism that makes him the main adversary for most of the film. Unfortunately, he’s the exception, as others don’t get any motivation or development. Oh, I haven’t even mentioned Goro yet. He’s introduced via a motorcycle, appearing in the middle of nowhere to rescue Rica from Gonta’s gang. After whisking her away, what follows is a song that plays while the two get lovey-dovey on the beach and later in a hotel. When the cops come, Goro hides… so he’s a fugitive? Looking online it’s stated he’s actually an undercover detective, which makes sense as he randomly appears toward the end of the film with knowledge that the “trade merchant” is up to no good. Goro, despite being featured heavily in the poster, is barely in the film, although Rica does confess her love toward him at one point. In all, the movie treats him like a reoccurring character in the series that audiences should be readily familiar with.
As expected, the paper thin characters also impacts the acting performances, which is shocking given the pedigree of the director. There just isn’t much material to work with, and most of the cast is hamming it up by being way over-the-top in their portrayals. In fact, the only actor who comes away leaving an impression on the viewer is actress Reiko Kasahara who plays “Snake” Okyo, the self proclaimed “Queen of the Whores”. Kasahara is much better with the comedic elements of the film versus her peers here, giving what’s a throwaway character a bit of screen presence as a result.
In terms of the soundtrack, it might be the film’s one redeeming quality, though it’s not exactly great. The “main theme,” which is repeated throughout and features some light vocal elements, has a whimsical, slightly memorable quality to it. While it doesn’t fit the overall tone of the film, at least it isn’t played during inappropriate moments. The “battle theme” is quiet interesting, though, as it sounds ridiculously close to the “mad demon” theme from Prophecies of Nostradamus (1974). Did composer Isao Tomita see this film and become inspired? Extremely unlikely, but it’s uncanny how close the two musical motifs are. As for the songs, the lyrics lean heavily into the movie’s attempt to portray Rica as a sleazy character, despite the film itself doing little to substantiate this portrayal even though the marketing loudly proclaims her as a “juvenile slut” (for the record, she only sleeps with one person during the course of the film).
Overall, I won’t sugar coat it, I thought Rica: Juvenile’s Lullaby was a pretty bad film. It’s not totally devoid of “joy”, which I use in quotes as it’s an odd term to label for this film. Sequences like Rica assaulting people with logic defying sturdy baguettes or her impeccable marksmanship with a harpoon gun, to the point she can effortlessly hit moving targets many yards away, will get a laugh from the viewer. That said, there’s just not really much as a whole to recommend here. If you are interested in this for the possibility of nudity, well the film does have that in spades. Character’s will frequently get their top pushed down or ripped off. However, outside of one scene with Rica and Goro which is oddly tasteful, these scenes are not played up for their sensual elements. Instead they are treated as ho-hum occurrences, and I’d have trouble imagining someone finding the film provocative from the sexual angle as a result.