Taking punk to a whole new level and meticulously tailored to weigh on its audience, 964 Pinocchio is an exhausting watch; the constant presence of screaming, yelling, grunting and whining bears its own unique sense of torture. A raw, hand-tooled vision that unfolds with visceral and stomach-churning intensity, Shozin Fukui throws shades of disturbing, comedic, messed-up, revolting, and mesmerising at you all at once in a breakneck charge through a brutal and uncaring post-industrial netherworld. The filthy, grimy aesthetic and relentless wallowing won't appeal to everyone, as it screams in your face and refuses to apologise for any of its repulsive imagery. However, the film presents a compelling concept to you, delving into it wildly once you're settled in, bearing all the hallmarks of an endurance test, complete with frenetic editing and off-the-wall acting choices, with mental anguish far exceeding physical tolerance. What 964 Pinocchio lacks in polish or budget, it makes up for with a visual intensity matched only by the sheer, uncompromising determination, hysterical pacing and the utterly demented insanity of its soundscape. It has an undeniable charm, but what exactly that is, is for you to decide.
