The most obviously pressing issue to note here is that the spectre of Takashi Miike permeates the entire film. Popping up for his own cameo at one point, the Japanese director is able to recuperate some of cameo-kudos formerly-lost after his pointlessly hilarious skit in Hostel. Beyond that, not only is the film produced by the man who did the paperwork for Fudoh: The New Generation (the film that marked Miike’s escape from the world of TV movies), but in the columns headed Style and Tone, we can also see a splattering of the notorious cult icon.

Taking us a step-down from the effects-loaded razzmatazz of some of the more recent Miike projects, such as The Great Yokai War (a live-action Miyazaki, no doubt) and Izo (a bloated, pretentious hiccup, no doubt), The Neighbour #13 harkens back to the days when budgets were squeezed by threats and shooting schedules were written on a pinhead. Easing comfortably into the chair of dark visuals, grimy atmosphere and deadpan bloodshed, this film has Miike’s name written all over it. But it’s not his name this time, it’s Yasuo Inoune’s, a first-time director adapting a manga, and doing a good job of it. Showing much more restraint in terms of bloodshed than the man already mentioned too much in this review, and creating a cold, sterile atmosphere, he has enough individual style to warrant respect in his own right.

However, another comparison arises when considering the film narrative, for it turns out Juzo wasn’t always like this, he wasn’t born with intrinsic bipolar, but was traumatised into it after a difficult regime of bullying during his high school years. Like Ichi The Killer’s eponymous maniac, childhood tumult shapes the neuroses that are to later morph into a volatile adult mentality. It’s a preoccupation with the character-defining days of youth that’s a path well-trodden by Miike, and echoes are difficult not to notice here. Even the ending, swamped in ambiguity, seems a reverberation of the enigmatic climax to that aforenamed flick.

It may be mired in the hues of its influences, but The Neighbour #13 remains no less enjoyable. Pumped full of little idiosyncrasies and painted from a beautifully bleak palette, whilst it may not be a classic, it nevertheless hints of a promising directorial style eager to be free of the chains of influences.