Death By Music
Six String Samurai opens with the apocalypse and ends with the death and subsequent rebirth of rock and roll.
Bringing together Elvis Presley, the yellow brick road, suburban cannibals and Death himself, Six String Samurai mixes Sergio Leone chestnuts with an eastern sensibility to create a sushi-western with killer action scenes, great music and hidden depth.
In the mid 1950s, Russia nuked the United States, creating a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The last great settlement is Lost Vega$, ruled by King Elvis. But the king is dead, baby, and America needs a new hero.
Buddy (Jeffrey Falcon) is a wandering artist/warrior. All the while strumming his six-string, he is on the road to Vega$ to become the new king. But like all great hero quests, Buddy’s trail is fraught with peril. From acquiring a new traveling partner after saving an orphan (Justin McGuire) from a band of roving cavemen to being hunted by Death, Buddy has a long way to go before he reaches Vega$.
Lance Mungia directs a script written by himself and Falcon. His aesthetic style can best be described as an anime cartoon brought to life. Everything appears larger than life in Mungia’s 1998 theatrical debut. From an opening sequence shot in compressed “de-anamorphic” widescreen that gives the scene an ethereal appearance, to garishly obvious voice dubbing that is oddly appropriate, everything about Six String Samurai begs to be observed and studied. Not a shot goes by that audiences can’t tell was planned and obsessed over by the talent behind it. Pop culture references and literary homage appear at break-neck speed, overfilling audiences on substance during the ninety-minute film.
Jeffrey Falcon’s performance as Buddy stands as one of the most engrossing film characters in American cinema, combining the outward appearance and dress habits of the late rocker Buddy Holly with a personality at once both The Fonz and Bruce Lee. As a roving warrior, Buddy goes nowhere without his trusty sword.
In one scene, Buddy stands alone against a Russian army outpost, testing his sword skills against over 100 armed solders. Flipping and twisting through the air, Falcon combines an amazing display of aerobics with a rhythmic dance-like fighting stance. The action, although a bit unrealistic at times, is amazingly well choreographed considering the relatively small budget.
Filmed partially in Death Valley, the production design is an imaginative trip through nostalgic hell. America died in the ’50s, leaving Buddy to travel in a world where roving gangs mark their colors with kitschy bowling shirts and a family of cannibals dress like the Cleavers. Every color is bleached out and washed away, giving audiences a feeling of futile despair for a world without hope.
Music plays a large part in Six String Samurai. Besides the incredible soundtrack by the Red Elvises, a band of Russian rockers that create a sound describable as Siberian surf music, the plot itself is an allegory for American rock. Buddy, a shinning symbol of ’50s guitar rock stands alone against the creeping presence of Death, a shadowy figure garbed in robes and an Alice Cooper-esque top hat. Death stands as the ever-growing harshness and guttural sound present in heavy metal music. As the film climaxes and Buddy stands alone against Death in a guitar duel, fans of both genres will be treated to an incredible display of talent.
Six String Samurai is not content to fit under a simple label. It smears itself in honey and rolls in American cinematic history – sticking to whatever genre it can grasp. Recommended to both fans of action and music history, Six String Samurai is one forgotten film that deserves to be discovered.
