Metallic mayhem and graphic depravity fly thick and fast in Tetsuo: The Iron Man, it draws on the marriage of flesh and technology that inspires so much of David Cronenberg's work and twists it into a manga-influenced cyberpunk vision. This 67-minute lunacy is probably the closest approximation to capturing a sustained migraine in pure celluloid form, what's on screen borders on the extreme and experimental, all matched by a hysterical and unnerving score. Chu Ishikawa's clattering metal percussion and unrelenting terror synths sometimes border on unlistenable but add to the film's uniqueness and disgusting style. Less a coherent plot than a series of disturbing images loosely struck together, confrontation and violence erupt at breakneck speed in this nearly dialogue-free odyssey, assaulting every sense it can with the tenacity and ingenuity of DIY filmmaking. The stop-motion effects give the fusion of bared wires and exposed ganglia an unnervingly vivid physicality. A hysterical, histrionic ode to cyberpunk fetishism, Tetsuo: The Iron Man was one of my early ventures into the realm of Japanese cinema, one that really isn't my thing but is unquestionably a feat of imagination and technique yet an hour of it is more than enough.