Most critics like Battle Royale, and the praise clusters in the same place: the premise, and what Kinji Fukasaku does with it. Reviewers read the film as a satire on adults’ cruelty to the young, on schools and on government, and they credit its speed, its shock and its odd mix of splatter with comedy and adolescent romance. Fukasaku’s own urgency, several note, is what gives the film its edge. Takeshi Kitano’s teacher is singled out even by those who dislike the rest.
The spread is wide. The reservations gather around repetition: killings that start to feel redundant, flashbacks that recur, characters given too little motivation, a tone that slips into sentiment. Slant Magazine finds it smug rather than shocking; Time Out thinks it works as neither satire nor death-sport fantasy; the Evening Standard calls it tedious; Eye for Film calls it the pornography of violence. The dissenters are few, but they are not mild.
