Tokyo Drifter. (15.)
Directed by Seijan Suzuki. 1966.
Starring Tetsuya Watari, Chieko Matsubara, Hideaki Nitani, Tamio Kawachi, Ryûji Kita, Eiji Gô. 82 mins. Out of Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection.
The gangster thriller Tokyo Drifter, the film of a popular song from the time, is about a Yakuza family that is trying to go legit and the noble foot soldier Tetsuo (Watari) who is fanatically loyal to his boss. But this is not a film where you need worry too much about the plot; the filmmakers surely didn't. It's all about the look, and the look is incredible. It's a Bobby Dazzler, no doubt about it. That said, while watching it I did a bit of Tokyo drifting myself: wowed by the visual but alienated by the narrative incoherence my mind did occasionally wander. It's a perverse achievement. While you are watching it you will probably become increasingly distant from it. Then, when it is finished, you want to go right back and see it again to be overwhelmed by that colour scheme.
Now I'm not one of those who demand a Good Story above all else and doesn't like that story to be fannied about with. I'm all about the fannying, but suspect Suzuki is taking the piss just a bit here. The film was shot in 25 days which is staggering given the intricacies of the set design, and the number of scenes and locations involved. Our hero is a drifter after all, so there's a trip to the snowbound north and to the warmer south, which in this film has a wild west theme. The plan seemed to be make sure they shot all the good bits, and never mind if they didn't get round to do all those pesky bits that give the good bits context. When Michael Bay does that he's a vulgarian, when a foreigner does it he's a visionary surrealist.
Maybe, but the film's style is so abrupt, so streamlined that it feels like a series of postcards from a narrative. During Tetsuo's trip north, out of nowhere he is in the middle of a shoot out on a train track, with a train steaming up behind him. The whole who/what/where/why of the event is never made clear. Stylized action sequences are all very well but surely some vague rules of engagement need to be established.
Still, those good bits are damn fine. We open with a black and white sequence in a dockyard. It was shot on some spoiled monochrome film that needed using up and the result is an extremely stylized contrast. To misquote Spinal Tap, "How much more black and white can you get? None more black and white." The rest of the film is in colours of varying degree of garishness. The finale takes place on a chandeliered nightclub set, with the kind of staircase Matt Monroe might have descended mid-croon. The action is played out against the backdrop of a dangling polystyrene doughnut that changes colour to match the mood.
Frustrating definitely, but undeniably remarkable, albeit in a way I personally couldn't find much use for. Others could though and one of the reasons I found it so hard to commit to the narrative was all the times I was reminded of all the films that were influenced by it. Obviously, there are all the French Cinema Du Look mob, Beineix, Carax, who applied the form to equally inexplicable but much more long-winded narratives. But also the colour coding of the interiors is reminiscent of The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover.
Extras.
New interviews with director Seijun Suzuki and assistant director Masami Kuzuu
Interview with Suzuki from 1997
Trailer
New and improved English subtitle translation
PLUS: A booklet featuring a new essay by film critic Howard Hampton
Directed by Seijan Suzuki. 1966.
Starring Tetsuya Watari, Chieko Matsubara, Hideaki Nitani, Tamio Kawachi, Ryûji Kita, Eiji Gô. 82 mins. Out of Blu-ray from the Criterion Collection.
The gangster thriller Tokyo Drifter, the film of a popular song from the time, is about a Yakuza family that is trying to go legit and the noble foot soldier Tetsuo (Watari) who is fanatically loyal to his boss. But this is not a film where you need worry too much about the plot; the filmmakers surely didn't. It's all about the look, and the look is incredible. It's a Bobby Dazzler, no doubt about it. That said, while watching it I did a bit of Tokyo drifting myself: wowed by the visual but alienated by the narrative incoherence my mind did occasionally wander. It's a perverse achievement. While you are watching it you will probably become increasingly distant from it. Then, when it is finished, you want to go right back and see it again to be overwhelmed by that colour scheme.
Now I'm not one of those who demand a Good Story above all else and doesn't like that story to be fannied about with. I'm all about the fannying, but suspect Suzuki is taking the piss just a bit here. The film was shot in 25 days which is staggering given the intricacies of the set design, and the number of scenes and locations involved. Our hero is a drifter after all, so there's a trip to the snowbound north and to the warmer south, which in this film has a wild west theme. The plan seemed to be make sure they shot all the good bits, and never mind if they didn't get round to do all those pesky bits that give the good bits context. When Michael Bay does that he's a vulgarian, when a foreigner does it he's a visionary surrealist.
Maybe, but the film's style is so abrupt, so streamlined that it feels like a series of postcards from a narrative. During Tetsuo's trip north, out of nowhere he is in the middle of a shoot out on a train track, with a train steaming up behind him. The whole who/what/where/why of the event is never made clear. Stylized action sequences are all very well but surely some vague rules of engagement need to be established.
Still, those good bits are damn fine. We open with a black and white sequence in a dockyard. It was shot on some spoiled monochrome film that needed using up and the result is an extremely stylized contrast. To misquote Spinal Tap, "How much more black and white can you get? None more black and white." The rest of the film is in colours of varying degree of garishness. The finale takes place on a chandeliered nightclub set, with the kind of staircase Matt Monroe might have descended mid-croon. The action is played out against the backdrop of a dangling polystyrene doughnut that changes colour to match the mood.
Frustrating definitely, but undeniably remarkable, albeit in a way I personally couldn't find much use for. Others could though and one of the reasons I found it so hard to commit to the narrative was all the times I was reminded of all the films that were influenced by it. Obviously, there are all the French Cinema Du Look mob, Beineix, Carax, who applied the form to equally inexplicable but much more long-winded narratives. But also the colour coding of the interiors is reminiscent of The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover.
Extras.
New interviews with director Seijun Suzuki and assistant director Masami Kuzuu
Interview with Suzuki from 1997
Trailer
New and improved English subtitle translation
PLUS: A booklet featuring a new essay by film critic Howard Hampton
