When thinking of films that look at the role the media plays in shaping our perception, many tend to gravitate towards Sidney Lumet’s Network, which is widely considered one of the finest satires ever committed to film. The passionate, furious monologues delivered by the incredible Peter Finch in the role of Howard Beale, and his resounding call of “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!” becoming an iconic part of the cultural consciousness since the film’s release – but as brilliant as Paddy Chayefsky’s carefully-calibrated narrative was, it was predated by a similarly-themed satire that has barely been discussed, particularly in conversations centring on the very issues Network has been praised for exposing. Depending on a comparative analysis doesn’t always make for the most enriching criticism, but it’s fascinating to realize that there is another gem concealed in obscurity that delivers an almost identical message, but in a way that is even more twisted and perverse.  Yoshishige Yoshida’s astonishing Blood Is Dry (Japanese: 血は渇いてる) is one of the most potent satires of the 1960s, and a film that hasn’t found much of an audience outside of the small group of followers who have found themselves captivated by the director’s astounding ability to blend dark comedy with the bleakest and harrowing social commentary imaginable, creating an unforgettable film that takes a novel premise, and turns it into a heartwrenching, eye-opening glimpse into human behaviour that has never been more relevant than it is today. A film that should easily be considered alongside many of the finest in the genre, Blood Is Dry is absolutely staggering, and a work that is well-worth seeking out, especially for those with an interesting in socially-charged satires that carry an unflinchingly harrowing depth.

Understanding Blood Is Dry entails some knowledge – or at least a vague awareness – of the social and cultural milieu that occurred around its creation. Made in 1960, this film was produced less than two decades since the end of the Second World War, which devastated Japan and changed the nation’s social fabric in irreparable ways. A byproduct of this national upheaval found its way into every facet of the culture, particularly in the world of artistry. There was a fascinating conflict that arose between filmmakers – the older generation were now tasked with the intimidating challenge of retaining their traditional perspective on storytelling, while still infusing their work with a socially-charged relevance that may not have been revolutionary, but rather carried some significant meaning precisely when in contrast with the changing social atmosphere. The second generation, particularly those that emerged as a result of this rise in alternative forms of artistry, took a far-less generous approach, and normally made a point of openly defying conventions and going against what was expected. Yoshishige Yoshida made his directorial debut in 1960 with two films, one of which being Blood Is Dry, which is one of the most scathing indictments on postwar society produced in any country, and a work of singular brilliance that consistently defies the odds and presents audiences with a story that may be supremely uncomfortable, but carries such a raw message, any attempt to look away is rendered impossible, since the director has captured our attention with a ferocity normally reserved for those already well-adjusted to the craft. The boldness with which this film was made is so vivid and distinct, it becomes an incredibly immersive experience that shows very few signs of ever abating, which works perfectly well in the context of a story that was intended to always push the envelope.

Cinema, by the most pedestrian definition,  is supposed to be a form of entertainment – but there is a large sub-genre of films designed precisely to cause the audience to feel nothing but discomfort and despair, which has resulted in some stunning, but incredibly controversial, films produced over the course of the medium’s history. Blood Is Dry is certainly amongst these, especially when it establishes its conceptual framework at the beginning – a middle-aged man, when faced with being retrenched from his longtime job as a result of economic strife, publicly attempts to commit suicide as a sign of rebellion, but manages to survive and becomes the symbol of his company, which just so happens to be an insurance corporation that relishes in their new mascot. Occurring at the intersections between psychological thriller and dark comedy, Blood Is Dry isn’t an easy film in any way – but like any great satire, it is willing to have the difficult conversations, especially when presented with alternative options of conveying the same message, albeit in a far-less memorable (and often horrifying) way. Yoshida holds no punches when it comes to this film – every moment is absolutely essential, and running at a paltry 83 minutes, this is a film that knows precisely what it wants to say, and will go about making some bold statements through artistically-economic means. It’s an intricate exploration of the underworld of big corporations and their frequent quest to take control, even if it means literally promoting death as an advertising tactic. Whoever said “sex sells” clearly didn’t realize the value of advertising the ultimate inevitability, which Blood Is Dry makes quite a terrifying point to note.

One of many satires that intends to educate and inform, rather than entertain (since the modern definition of the term conflates the concept of satire with outrageous comedy that has a socio-cultural inclination), Blood Is Dry is absolutely relentless, and clearly will stop at nothing before exposing the insidious world of the media, and how it manipulates society in order to get a particular message across, normally one that has some benefit to a corporation or other faceless organization that has a firm control of the culture. This film is a very bleak and haunting look into the machinations of the business-minded side of society, where financial gain and a good reputation are far more important to citing one’s company as a success as anything humane or decent. Yoshida understands the exact amount of restraint to show with this subject (since suicide is certainly not something that should be the folly of an outrageous comedy), but never deviates from taking a few shots at more uncomfortable subject matter. There is certainly not a shortage of difficult commentary embedded in this film – it effectively eviscerates the entire concept of the media as a way of demonstrating not only the blatant hypocrisy of those who use the plight of others to get ahead, but also gradually goes beyond that, challenging whole perceptions of reality. The most shocking moments in Blood Is Dry don’t come from the scenes where violence is in play (such as the many sequences where the main character threatens to end his life, whether being serious or through taking part in his company’s masquerade), but rather those where the film shows that even beyond this novel subject, there is a depth to this story that has real-world implications – and through some unforgettable images (such as the eventual suicide of the protagonist, and the dramatic removal of his enormous likeness off the skyscraper he worked in – symbolized as a second demise), the film leaves a strong impression.

There’s a certain merit in films like Blood Is Dry, particularly in terms of how it approaches its satirical intentions – the audience isn’t tasked with scrounging around to find some meaning in what’s presented to us, with the director ensuring that, even at his most aloof, his work here reflects a keen sense of socially-charged commentary that makes its message known to everyone, regardless of background. As recent events over the past few years have shown, the media continues to be a formidable force, one that can unite populations just as much as they can divide them, which makes this film particularly resonant, especially in an era where we have become so obsessed with the culture of celebrity, where the concept of reality is actually blurred in favour of our need to know the inner-workings of every public figure and their lives, discerning every aspect of their existence in the hopes of getting some entertainment out of it. Yoshida was an outspoken critic of the media’s tendency to glorify the plight of others for their own gain, and Blood Is Dry is an exceptional work precisely because the director was so vehemently against the behaviour of mass corporations and their refusal to move beyond seeing humanity as anything other than statistics and targets. This film traverses some very dark territory, and in spite of its darkly comical tone, features very little levity, with the moments of sardonic wit being more unsettling, as they function in collaboration with the more brutal deconstruction of capitalism and its preoccupation with consumerism. It’s a haunting but utterly brilliant work, and while it may be more difficult than other satires, its direct approach to some very serious matters, and its insatiable endeavour to comment on broader issues is entirely worth it, and immediately positions Blood Is Dry as an essential work of postwar satire.