A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Saturday, October 27, 2018

Tokyo Drifter (Seijun Suzuki, 1966)

Tomoko Hamakawa and Tamio Kawaji in Tokyo Drifter
Tetsuya (Tetsu the Phoenix) Hondo: Tetsuya Watari
Chiharu: Chieko Matsubara
Tatsuzo the Viper: Tamio Kawaji
Kurata: Ryuji Kita
Kenji Aizawa: Hideaki Nitani
Tanaka: Eiji Go
Mutsuko: Tomoko Hamakawa
Keiichi: Tsuyoshi Yoshida
Umetani: Isao Tamagawa
Otsuka: Eimei Esumi

Director: Seijun Suzuki
Screenplay: Yasunori Kawauchi
Cinematography: Shigeyoshi Mine
Production design: Takeo Kimura
Film editing: Shinya Inoue
Music: Hajime Kaburagi

Imagine if The Godfather had been made in the mid-1960s with someone like Frankie Avalon as Michael Corleone, interpolated pop songs ("An Offer He Can't Refuse," perhaps?), and sets in comic book colors that look like they were designed for a Freed Unit musical at MGM in the 1950s. Then you have something like Tokyo Drifter, a jaw-dropping Japanese gangster movie directed by the irrepressible Seijun Suzuki. There's no summarizing a plot that has so many wild excursions, but it basically follows the attempts of a young hitman who has his yakuza boss's approval to go straight -- or so he thinks, until the boss changes his mind. None of this suggests where the movie's going to go, including the shootout between Tetsuya and his almost Doppelgänger nemesis Tatsuzo on the railroad tracks with an approaching train in a snowstorm. Or the free-for-all fistfight in a bar designed to look like a saloon set for an American Western, during which the bar is almost completely demolished. For most of the film, including the train track shootout, Tetsuya wears a robin's egg blue suit with white shoes, though he later changes into other pastels. Those who find Tokyo Drifter a bit much (as the studio that employed Suzuki did) dismiss it as style over substance, but it's undeniably fascinating.

Posted by at
Links: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)