Blind Beast (1969) - full transcript

BLIND BEAST

Produced by Kazumasa Nakano
Original Story by Edogawa Rampo

Screenplay by Ishio Shirasaka
Photography by Setsuo Kobayashi

Recording by Takeo Suda
Lighting by Nagaharu Watanabe

The Cast

Eiji Funakoshi
Mako Midori

Noriko Sengoku

Directed by Yasuzo Masumura

My name is Aki Shima.

I was never very popular
as a fashion model.

But I was very moved by
the artistic sense



of the photographer,
Mr. Yamana.

And quite willing to let him
take such pictures of me.

The exhibition created quite
a sensation.

I went to the gallery one morning
for an early meeting.

To discuss our next project.

At such an early hour,
there was only one visitor.

He didn't take any
notice of the photographs.

He was crouched at the foot
of the featured statue.

It was a nude study of me.

It was sculpted by one of
Mr. Yamana's friends.

His whole demeanor was
very strange.

What happened next
was unexpected.

It felt as if the statue and my body
were somehow one.

I felt his hands as
he pawed the statue.



It felt as if he was
running them over my body.

It sent shivers down my back.

I ran out of the gallery.

Several days later
I worked for Yamana again.

I woke up at 4 in the morning

and drove down to
the studio.

Yamana was very demanding,
working for him was hard.

I was exhausted,
but I still had to drive back

to my apartment in Tokyo.

Once home, I called a local
masseur to relieve my fatigue.

It's open.
Come in.

I'm from Sakura Massage.

They've never sent you before.

That's correct.

Your normal masseur is
otherwise occupied.

They sent me instead.
Do you mind?

I guess not.

I only moved here three days ago.
I beg your pardon.

Hurry up and start.

If you don't mind.

Give it some muscle.
I like it hard.

If it doesn't hurt,
it doesn't satisfy me.

Like this?

Harder than that.

Your body is quite stiff.

Massage is good for
younger women, too.

It stimulates the circulation
so you look better.

More so for someone
in your line of work.

How do you know
what I do?

You're Aki Shima.
Famous for those sensational photos.

And very famous among
we masseurs.

Sometimes I really appreciate
my work.

I get to talk to
famous people like you.

And besides,
I get to touch you.

I'm not famous.

You're very beautiful.

Flattery.
I am not that pretty.

To the blind,
faces don't really matter.

It's your body
and the silkiness of your skin.

You really are exceptional.

Stop that!
What the hell?

I'm very sorry.

The blind have eyes
in our fingertips.

I know your body
better than someone with eyes.

From top to bottom.

The feel of the blind man's
fingers on me,

was exactly like the man
stroking the statue.

Could it be him?
Perhaps cold clay wasn't enough.

The thought of that
made me angry.

I said no!
Don't you get it?

I'm sorry.

That's enough.
Leave now.

But I've just started.

Forget it.
I'm very tired, I'm not feeling well.

I'll pay you anyway.
700 yen, isn't it?

What are you doing?

It was you!
I knew it.

- Well done.
- My coat.

So, you're finally awake.

You?

Where are you?
Where?

I'm here.

Where am I?
What is this place?

This is my studio.

Your studio?

Just like a warehouse
from outside.

What are you?

I'm an amateur sculptor.

A sculptor?

I'm blind.

From birth,
damaged optic nerves.

I'm totally blind.

Being blind is miserable.

From listening to people and
Braille books,

I can picture much of the
world's beauty.

The sunlight,
the color of clouds,

splendid scenery
and the beauty of works of art.

Plays, movies, even TV.

But I cannot see a thing.

I hate my parents for this.

But that doesn't achieve
a single thing.

All that is left for the blind is

sound, smell, taste
and our sense of touch.

Sounds are like wind,
no satisfaction.

Smells are useless.

Our noses aren't sensitive
like dogs.

Food merely fills our bellies.

But what I have discovered
is that touch

is the only way to amuse us.
Our one tactile satisfaction.

Touch, the only sense
worth anything to me.

I've touched everything I could.

I liked the feeling of touching
animals best.

They're so warm and soft.

I've had dogs and cats to stroke.

I went to a farm to play
with sheep and horses.

But no animal can compare
with human flesh.

Especially the feel of
women's bodies.

After finishing school,
I took a course in massage.

Every night I went to inns,
hotels and apartments to work.

But not for the money.
I wanted to feel the women's skin.

Like faces,
every skin is different.

Each with its own
shape and feel.

So many women,
I became totally fixated.

Around then, I sold some land
I'd inherited from my father.

I made a fortune out of it.

But a blind man like me
could find no use for money.

So I bought this warehouse
and took up sculpture.

Recalling all of the women,

I reproduced their body parts
from memory.

Now I can caress them
at any time.

It took six years to build
the studio.

I spent most of my
inheritance.

When finally completed,
I was so happy.

Now I spend most of
my time here.

Days and nights
here in the darkness.

Amusing myself by
caressing their bodies at will.

Be careful.

I'll put the lights on.

This is my studio.

What do you think?

You're insane.

But I soon got bored with it.

Real bodies are not
like this.

The soft bodies of beautiful
women with luscious skin.

When I finally realized
that's what I needed,

I heard schoolboys talking
about you.

What did they say?

They were discussing
your photos and statue.

I went to the exhibition and ran
my hands over the sculpture.

I registered at your massage agency
and finally got to fondle you.

Those boys were right.

Your body is the finest
I've ever known.

Your shape, skin texture
are exactly what I want.

Stay away!

Don't worry.
I'd never hurt you.

What are you planning?

Stay for a while and be
a model for my sculpture.

So you kidnapped me?

I had no choice.
You would never have agreed.

Will you be my model?

No!
Not a chance in hell.

I'll pay very generously.

I don't want money.

If you do,
I'll create a work of art.

There are many kinds of
art in our world.

Art for amusing the eye,
the ear and the mind.

Why can't touching
be an art form?

That's not my problem.

Every day we use touch.

We touch bowls, vases,
desks and chairs.

Clothes and furs, too.

Art is more than color and shape,
what about touch?

What about it?

I want to pioneer
the art of touching.

Where only the blind can
appreciate it.

A new art form,
by and for the blind.

That is my life's mission.

I beg you,
please be my model.

No way!

Go on, beat me,
kick me.

I'll be your slave.
You can do anything to me.

Just let me touch you.

Help me create
a totally new genre of art.

You're wasting your time.

Why, you ask?

You stripped naked
for that photographer!

So why not for me?

That's obvious.
Mr. Yamana is a great artist.

He depicted me as the
New Woman of our Age.

That's why I posed
for him.

But I also create art.

That's crap and you're crazy.
You just want to feel me up.

- Why say that?
- No, I said.

In that case...

...but I won't give up.
I'll wait no matter how long it takes.

I won't let you go
until you agree.

You'll lock me up here?

Go ahead. The police will
find me all the sooner.

No, they won't.

Why not?

I used a false identity when
I registered as a masseur.

Nobody saw us
bringing you here.

And besides,
we changed taxis many times.

We walked the last few
blocks.

Even a massive search
wouldn't find you.

You're insane!

You can't open it.
It's locked.

Help!
Somebody help me.

No use.
They're double doors of sheet iron.

It's useless to even try.

I can follow your scent,
the sound of your breath.

I'll soon find you.

If you keep this up,
you'll collapse from exhaustion.

Looks like I've got you.

Stop it right now,
or you'll regret it.

You've got goose bumps.
Why are you so scared?

Let me go!

It's inevitable.

You give me no choice.

Enjoy your breakfast?

She didn't touch a
single thing.

If you don't eat,
you'll get sick.

I want to talk.
Come sit here.

Talk about what?

I sat up all night
thinking about my position.

If you continue to lock
me up here,

I won't be able to eat
or sleep.

I'll go insane and I'll die.

So?

I'll do as you say,
I'll be your model.

Are you sure?

But once it's finished,
you'll let me go, right?

Naturally.

After thinking about it
I realized that the art of touching

is really quite
an interesting concept.

A bold experiment.

It didn't take long
to change your mind.

I was so scared
I could hardly think.

In these circumstances,
I think anybody would.

But once I calmed down,
I suddenly realized

you're not insane at all.

You're a pioneer artist
in a brand new genre.

You really think so?

The energy and passion
you've shown

in building this studio,
proves you're truly unique.

I want to work with you
to pioneer the art of touching.

I'm so pleased you finally
understand, thank you.

Let's start right away.
I want your best work.

Excellent.

You're one in a million.

I searched long and hard
for a body such as yours.

I love this body.

Can I take a break?

We've barely started.

But I don't feel well.

What's wrong?

My stomach really hurts.

Where?
Where does it hurt?

You won't call a doctor,
will you?

No, of course not.

I caught a chill,
I'll just have to bear it.

Shall I turn up the
heat for you?

Do you have any painkillers?
Aspirin, anything.

I'll go and look.

If not,
can you buy me some?

I want to get well
and get back to modeling.

I understand.

Where are you going?

Let go of me!

Michio,
she's trying to escape.

Was she really trying
to escape, Mother?

If I'd been any later,
she'd be long gone.

Is that right?

So you lied to me
with your fancy stories.

Let me go,
please let me go!

You won't leave until Michio
finishes his work.

No!
I'll go crazy!

Let me out!
Let me go!

Shut up, will you.

I'll keep watch over her.

You concentrate on your art,
it's your only pleasure in life.

Thank you. I couldn't do
anything without you, Mother.

Don't be silly. You know
I'd do anything for you.

I'm your mother, of course I will.
Now get back to work.

How long will it take you
to finish it?

This will be the pinnacle of my art,
so I can't really say.

If that's the case, maybe we
should try to be friends.

If not, this oppressive atmosphere
will drive me crazy.

It's your fault,
you tried to trick me.

I'm very hungry.

Mother will bring lunch.

Will you eat here with me?

Dine together?

I don't have much appetite
on my own.

I'll get thin,
my skin will suffer.

I'll be a poor model.

That won't do.

That's why I want us to dine
happily together.

Or do you prefer eating
with Mommy?

What mischief are you
planning now?

Do you love your mother?

Of course I do.

She raised a blind boy
all by herself.

She taught me to read and write,
to live as a human being.

I love her more than
anything.

Was it always just you two?
Where's your father?

He died
soon after I was born.

Any friends, lovers?

Not one.

So you've never had a woman?
You poor thing.

That's why you built this studio.

You prefer cold clay
to a living, breathing woman.

Mother is the only woman
I know.

Now I know why you make
such gigantic figures.

They're from a
baby's perspective.

You love to nestle in
their arms like a baby.

I wonder.

But a real woman
is much different.

If you had a lover, you'd know.
It's much more fun.

Is that right?

Well, what about meals?

Will you eat with me
or with Mommy?

With you.

I'm thrilled.

I'd like a drink, too.

Alcohol?

You like a drink, don't you?
It gives you an appetite.

No.
I've never tried alcohol.

You've never had a
single drink?

You poor thing.
It's sublimely delicious.

Is that right?

I like wine.
Go buy some.

Another trick?

Get me drunk and run away?

You're so suspicious.
Your mother wouldn't let me past.

I've given up trying to escape.

Is that true?

Will she get angry if you
dine with me?

No, not at all.
She'll do anything I ask her to.

I wonder.

I'll go get dinner and
a drink.

That was an excellent meal.
I ate every scrap.

This wine is wonderful.

Is my face flushed?

It's a lovely glow.

Other than my mother,

you're the first person
I've dined with.

Was it fun?
Shall we continue doing it?

- Still angry?
- No.

Shall we get back to work?

I'll put these away first.

Leave them.
Your mother will do it anyway.

Carry me up there.

You've finished the arms and
legs, what's next?

Your breasts.

Really?
Go ahead, touch them.

Your fingers are very delicate
but ever so masculine.

It feels wonderful.

So why did you object?

At first I didn't like the idea.

But I've gradually grown to
love you.

I didn't realize
just how kind you are.

I can hardly believe it.

There's not another man who
worships my body like you.

What about that photographer?

No, that's different.
I'm just another model to him.

But I'm your one and only.

We women are conceited,
we need to dominate.

I'm very, very lucky.

I really love you.

Another trick!
You liar!

You don't believe me?
Here's the evidence.

You still doubt me?

I'll keep going
until you change your mind.

No, no, I believe you.
I really do.

I always thought being blind
would repel most women.

Do you love me?

Of course I do.

Was that your first ever kiss?

Did you enjoy it?

Tongues are so sensitive.

Far more so than fingers.
So warm, soft and sweet.

This time you try it.

Michio!

What is it, Mother?

Stop playing and
get back to work.

Your mother seems angry.
I wonder why.

She's shocked.

It's her first time to see me
in a woman's arms.

There's so much I can
teach you.

Things only a lover knows
and a mother cannot do.

It's almost dawn.
You need your sleep.

Don't overtax yourself.

I want to keep going.

Be happy for me, she's helping
me make a unique work of art.

Isn't that wonderful?

And she loves me.
She actually loves me.

I doubt it.

It sounds unlikely,
but it's the honest truth.

You idiot.
Can't you see she's fooling you?

When you let down your guard,
she'll escape.

I really have fallen
in love with him.

I could stay here forever.

Don't be ridiculous.

No gaudy young thing like you
would fall for Michio.

What's that supposed to mean?

Am I so repellent?

I know very well
what she's up to.

She's making a fool of
a blind country bumpkin.

Is that right?

I get it now.
Your mother's jealous.

She's bad mouthing me for
stealing her precious son.

Jealous?
Mother's jealous?

Yes. You're more than
a son to her, you know.

She's substituted you for
her husband or a lover.

So she sees me as
her rival.

Shut up!

I can understand it,
but it disgusts me.

Especially at her age.

Is she right, Mother?

I won't stand by and watch her
make a total fool out of you!

Mother, I'm an adult,
I want you to stop being jealous.

I'm free to fall in love.

Is that right?
Then do as you please.

You're free to go.

What's that?

Get dressed and get
out of here.

I can leave?

Yes, now go.

If you go to the police,
I'll get back at you.

If it takes all my life,
I swear.

I understand.

There's money in your bag,
go and hail a taxi.

Hurry up.

Mother?
Where are you going?

It's snowing, we're freezing.

I'm just going to get some coal,
out of my way.

Why not go alone?

Why do you have to take her
with you?

Alright,
I'll tell you everything.

I'm getting rid of her.

But why?
The sculpture isn't finished yet.

You can get another girl.
I'll help you find one.

Don't you understand?
It has to be her.

Not at all.
Her type are a dime a dozen.

She's unique.
I'll never find another like her.

Michio, please.
Forget all about her.

Never!

What are you doing?

Michio, listen to me.

I've done everything
you've ever asked for.

I helped you buy
and then build the studio.

Just once,
do this one thing for me.

Please,
get rid of her for me.

No, never!

Mother.

How dare you do this to me?

Have you forgotten how I
sacrificed everything to raise you?

It wasn't easy to raise
a blind child.

And who was it who gave birth
to a blind child? You!

Don't you ever forget, Michio,

I did my utmost to raise
you properly.

She's exactly the opposite.

She loves herself,
she has no feelings for you.

If you don't get rid of her now,
you'll suffer for it.

She's not like that.
She's sweet and kind.

You have no idea about
the outside world.

You know nothing about women.

A slut like her is
nothing but trouble.

A slut, am I?

That's what we call women who
bare their bodies for money.

You call it "art,"
but it's greed and grasping for fame.

I'm not like that.

I'm a virgin,
I've lead a good, honest life.

That's a joke!

How did you fool Michio?
Go on, tell me.

What kind of mother humiliates
her son's lover?

I know what you're trying to do.

You want your little boy
to stay forever.

You want to sleep with him.

What did you say?

I feel sorry for Michio.

With a mother like you,
he can never find love.

Always alone,
Mommy's little plaything.

Shut up!

Is that what you want?
To never experience physical love?

Always a little boy,
never a real man?

I love you.
I want to be with you.

Is she more important
to you than me?

How could you...

I want to save you from her.
I'll even marry you.

On the condition that you
cut all ties to her.

Any real mother would be
pleased

to raise her son and send
him into the world.

You bitch!

Mother!

What are you doing?

Please stop it!

Please Mother, stop it.

That's enough.

Help me!

I'll kill you,
you evil, conniving bitch!

I can't breathe!

Help me!
Please help me.

Mother, stop it at once!

I can't breathe...

Let her go!

She's killing me.

Mother, will you stop it!

Are you alright?
Are you hurt?

Just a little shaken.

Your mother.
Something's wrong...

What's that?

She's dead.

Dead?

Mother, this can't be!

Oh, no!

She hit her head on
the pillar.

It was a freak accident.

Mother, no...

What have I done to you?

You loved me so much...

You took care of me...

How could I go and kill you?

Mother, please forgive me.

It was my fault.

I was so stupid.

Please forgive me.

You will stay,
won't you?

You run away?

Let me go, please!

She was right.
You lied about loving me.

Let me go!
I'm sick of this.

You deliberately provoked
my mother.

Didn't you?
All you want is to escape.

Of course I do.
How can I possibly stay here?

You're evil.
You'd deceive a blind man.

It was you who killed
my mother!

It's no use fighting back.

You're coming with me.

Kill me!
Get it over with!

I'd rather be dead than
suffer like this.

You won't get away now.
I've got you.

In place of Mother,
you'll be here till you die!

You said I was a "Mommy's boy,"
didn't you?

You said my work is a poor
substitute for a real woman.

Right!
I'll prove to you I'm a man.

I'll take your virginity!

You beast!
You animal!

Yes, the beast who
killed his mother.

I can do anything now.

You're all mine,
I'll have you.

You'll be my lover.

I'd rather be dead!

No you won't,
you'll make a man of me.

I'll show you love.
Then you'll know.

Several days passed.

We buried his mother

under the dirt floor of the
old warehouse.

In the studio, with total
disregard for day or night,

he made love to me
repeatedly.

By the time he finished
the sculpture,

I had developed
a slight affection for him.

Do you still want to
leave here?

Leave me and go back
to your world?

Not now.

It's strange, but I
seem to have forgotten that world.

Have you given up because
you can't escape?

No.
I don't hate you any more.

Why is that?

Making love with you
has been wonderful.

You're very strong,
yet so gentle.

You've shown me the
true beauty of a woman.

Sculptures are inanimate.

They can never match the
feel of a woman.

You are far superior.

At the same time as I
was falling in love,

I, too, began to go blind.

Darling.

I've started to go blind.

Here, in constant darkness,

only feeling
and caressing your body,

my eyes have atrophied,
and I've started to go blind.

So, you're blind like me now.
Is it a demerit?

Are you sad?

Quite the opposite.

People pity the blind,
what a big mistake.

I pity those who have sight.

They can never know the
tactile ecstasy of our caresses.

You finally understand.

I do.
My sense of touch is so acute.

So sweet, so deep,
yet so certain.

Shape, form and color
can't even approach

our tactile
level of artistic expression.

So I'm not crazy, am I?

You're not insane,
you're awesome.

Your sense of touch is
almost not human.

I envy you.

Some day you'll reach the
same level as me.

How I wish that day
would hurry.

The sensation at the
tip of my fingers,

has become so acute
I can almost "taste."

As sensitive as insect feelers
and animal whiskers.

Like the lower orders of life,
without eyes, only able to feel.

Like an amoeba, or jellyfish,
at the dawn of life.

The same sensations as
the most primeval creature.

As if going back to the
womb of human creation,

so dark, so sweet
and so pervadingly familiar.

When I look with my eyes,
you're a different man

to the one I feel.

Different?
How?

You look normal.

But to the touch,
you're divine.

These small depressions,

the large curves and
projections.

As I caress your body,
I perceive constant variations.

Like the flow of a
musical masterpiece.

Delicious fun.

Is that right?

Again, days flew by.

We both explored the
innermost secrets of our bodies.

The most subtle and shaded
nuance of each other's flesh.

But in our tactile world of
touch and feeling,

we discovered unwritten,
unrelenting, natural laws.

So much pleasure only spurred

an ever increasing demand
for more sensation.

Seeking greater satisfaction.

An unquenchable desire for
ever more pleasure.

More! Deeper!
Harder!

Like this?

Not enough.
Bite me, bite me hard!

Like this?

Even harder.
Make me bleed.

More?

Harder, harder!

Feels so good!

It's my turn.
You bite me.

That was the beginning.

We began to take our pleasure
through biting, clawing,

and beating our bodies in
a rage of sensation.

The pain-pleasure from nails,
teeth and fists

gradually declined in intensity.

We began using various
devices to stimulate each other.

Whip me!

The more I suffered,
the more I craved.

What is it within,
that brings forth such ecstasy?

Does it mean that I was born
with masochistic tendencies?

Had I arrived at the point
where natural law

and the sensations of
pleasure collide?

We couldn't stop ourselves.

We escalated from
innocuous devices of pleasure

until we turned to knives
to extract our ecstasy.

You really want me to cut you?

Go ahead, do it.

Where?

Anywhere.
Wherever you want.

Here?

Cut me, cut me.
Hurry.

Does it hurt?

It's agony.

But an exquisite pain.

Hurt me more.

Cover me with scars.

How's that?

More, more.
I don't care if I die.

Give it everything.

You want me to cut you up?
You like that pain?

Cut deeper!

Cut deep into me
and twist the knife.

Are you alright?

This is so good.

More.
Drink more of my blood.

Now it's your turn.

That's when we
began the inhuman rite

of drinking each
others'blood.

The ecstasy of it marked our
descent into a nonhuman abyss.

But constant bliss,
such as we felt,

was never destined
to last for long.

The stench of his mother's dead
body began to fill the studio.

Our bodies cut and scarred,
as if from battle,

the loss of blood and constant pain
began to sap our vitality.

We won't last much longer,
will we?

No, I can barely muster
the strength to stand.

All we have left
is to wait for death to claim us.

Do you regret it now?

Why should I?

I've feasted on a bliss
that most people

never even know exists.

I'm ready to die at any time.

I've got a good idea.

What is it?

If we're to die anyway,

make it an ecstatic death
for me.

Bring me to tears of joy.

But how?

Cut my arms off.

My legs, too.

Cut this body of mine
into pieces.

What for?

I'm sure that it will be agony,

but also the ultimate ecstasy.

As I reach that climax,

make it my moment of death.

You prefer that to a slow,
lingering death?

Yes, of course.
I beg you.

I understand.

I'll die along with you.

To have my arms and legs cut
from my body.

What a fitting punishment
for our descent

into a world where
touch was bliss.

I gave myself
a death sentence.

Alright,
I'll start to cut.

Good.

Are you happy?

Now the other one.

Don't stop now.
My legs. Hurry.

The world of touch...

The world of insects...

The lower orders
such as the jellyfish...

Those who venture to the edge
of such worlds,

can expect only a dark, dank
death to envelope them.

The End