Alix Turner
Why are you interested in Prisoners of the Ghostland? Is it because you’re a Nicolas Cage fan and have heard intriguing things about the director Sion Sono? Is it because you loved Suicide Club and you’re concerned that the USA might lead Sono astray? Let me try to reassure you: Prisoners is neither a Nicolas Cage film nor a Sion Sono film; instead, it belongs to both of them, as well as several others.
I’d normally open with a summary of the plot, but not this time; the plot is frankly secondary to the world where Prisoners of the Ghostland is set. Imagine Mad Max crossed with Silent Hill, but set in an apocalyptic Asian Wild West and you’ll be halfway there. The opening is a stylized bank heist with pristine white walls and brightly dressed customers. After brief opening credits, attention turns to Samurai Town, full of dust and gangsters. Most of the film, though, takes place a little way down the road from there at the Ghostland, where people seem to gather to maintain a clock and tell tales about times past, unable to leave. Whichever of those latter two districts the film takes you to, there is an immense amount to take in and admire: geisha girls, lanterns, and neon in one; audacious musical performances and captives held in plaster-like statues in the other. This is a world which frankly deserves more films than this, and I can’t help wondering what I would see in other locations.
Of course, an imagined world has to be populated, and the population here is mostly layered with theatrical masks and Japanese-style costumes. A good deal of the dialogue is layered too, some presented as if by a chorus, and some told in rhyme or song. Prisoners of the Ghostland is a flamboyant show. Consequently, there is an incredible amount going on in every scene, most of which could not be mistaken for any other film. Nevertheless, when two key people appear—one in black, the other in white—the crowds part and all eyes are on them. These are Hero (Nicolas Cage, of course) and The Governor (Bill Moseley), and while Cage doesn’t presume to lead another’s film, Moseley steals it without even trying. Let me expand a little.
Cage’s Hero has a reputation as a bad-ass outlaw, and when he first meets the Governor, he says little to accept or refute that reputation; there’s no point either way. The Governor rules Samurai Town and when he tells Hero to go find his missing granddaughter, that’s what’s going to happen; well partly because of the leather suit which will explode, Battle Royale-style, if Hero doesn’t stick to some rules and bring Bernice (Sofia Boutella) back within five days. The Governor doesn’t shout, shoot, or plead, but has gravitas in every word he speaks, a strong presence in his pristine white suit, and the way people cower. He is the kind of character which would have cried out for Dennis Hopper in the past, but Hopper might have overdone it somewhat; Moseley, instead, fills the role just right, and he made this film for me. Nick Cage’s own reputation is for “rage” and wildness, but he doesn’t let this show very much in Prisoners: there is more than enough of both in the film as a whole, and I consider it perfectly apt that he doesn’t compete. (Sometimes he does come across a little petulant instead, mind you, and the few snappy lines that would usually fit him don’t quite fit the film.)
Bernice herself is little more than a pawn for most of the film until a time comes when she no longer wants to be, and that is very satisfying to watch. Other secondary or minor characters, such as Hero’s former partner Psycho (Nick Cassavetes) and Bernice’s bestie Susie (Yuzuka Nakaya), are played as exaggerated as Cage often does, and great fun to watch. And overall, that’s what Prisoners of the Ghostland is on the surface: a great fun watch, with some comic book characters and minimal (as in barely strung together) plot. Indeed, it’s probably a story that would work great as a graphic novel or adventure game on a console, with plenty of atmosphere, style, and the occasional flamboyant action sequence. (The film did feel a little long at times, just a little; but it wouldn’t have felt long as a forty-hour console adventure game.)
Writers Aaron Hendry and Reza Sixo Safai have put together a plot that rewards some deeper thought, though, if Sono’s glamour will let you see it. Apart from Hero and The Governor themselves, nearly everyone else seems to be living in either fear of some kind, a post-trauma psychosis, or denial of the same. Those who live in the Ghostland are messed up by radiation, keeping the effect of it hidden and yet laughing it off as a story. They are afraid of leaving their little enclave (because the air is worse out there? Who knows?) and, for some reason not entirely explained, afraid also of the effect of time. Interestingly, those who live under The Governor call him a “great clock” and fear causing his displeasure, too. By the end of the film, there are (of course) those who died, those who tried, and those who didn’t; and it’s easy to wonder which of the various fears were grounded. On the other hand, it’s also easy to look back and wonder what the point was of Hero’s mission after all, and maybe that’s the point of the film: perhaps heroism is misguided, misplaced, and has little point beyond covering up our fears with some escapist adventure.
The UK premiere of Prisoners of the Ghostland is on 28 August 2021 at FrightFest in London, and the film will have a general release on 17 September.
