Kuroda is an island nation fighting for independence from Thyyland (sic). Several Kurodians made Thyyland’s football team, and they’re getting ready to play the 2026 World Cup in North Korea. Some Kurodian separatists, under the mind control of the ghost of the nefarious General Tu, systematically hunt down and exterminate the Thyy players using their “darkside” magical powers in order to make the team more Kurodian as the first step to independence. Phase two of their plan is to kill the prime minister and blow some things up.
As I said previously, I promised the mayor that this blog would be a football-free zone. But even though many of the characters in The Kurodians are footballers; and even though we get to see the gritty world of street football, in which gang disputes are settled with 3-a-side rumbles with tiny goals; and even though one character is able to blow up cars with his devastating free kick abilities, The Kurodians isn’t really about football.
What is it about? I have no idea.
After the murder of much of the Thyy team, the action shifts to two years in the past, to show the detailed origin stories of these characters we’ve spent all of 20 minutes getting to know. There’s a future assassin using a fancy raygun that’s clearly a toy. I like what my life’s become – this is the second film I’ve seen this week featuring a future assassin using a fancy raygun that’s clearly a toy. In the past we get to see how he developed this fancy raygun, and how he got to be so good at using it. This is apparently an Important Plot Point.
After this, the action leaps four years into the future – that is, two years after the events we saw in the opening scenes took place. There’s a giant ghost in space, and a glowing suitcase which can be used to communicate with him. Someone walks around shredding a guitar that shoots lightning bolts at his enemies. One of the protagonists has been cloned a few times. Kuroda is still fighting for its independence. I think?
It ends suddenly, after 73 minutes of near constant action filmed in stark black-and-white. The distant future narrative jumped two years into the past then four years into the future. Exposition was both screamed directly into the camera and subtly hinted at in minor background details. Almost everyone has the ability to shoot lightning from their hands, and every time they did so it was accompanied by a painful shrieking noise. It’s disorientating, baffling, and quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.
It was written, produced, directed, and edited by one Nathan Homsup, who doesn’t seem to have anything else to his name so far. This is clearly a story he felt he had to tell. It’s a work of stunning imagination, very cleverly realised despite its obvious lack of budget. Nathan also composed a chilling soundtrack for the dizzying madness, ranging from haunting synth arpeggios to pure buzzing static.
The Kurodians is almost impossible to follow, but equally impossible not to love. I just wish I had the slightest idea what to make of it.
I was the only person in the screening. It’s therefore perfectly possible that much of this was a dream.