Every genre seems to have their maverick director. They push the genre to a new place and horrify executives with avant-garde films that completely break free from the safe studio films that rake in audience money. For the Japanese Yakuza film, that director is without a doubt Seijun Suzuki. In a time when Japanese studios wanted “by the numbers” B movies, Suzuki released frenzied, surrealist pictures that gave audiences a real reason to go to the movies. For all his hard work and creativity, the director was promptly shown the door after twelve years with Nikkatsu Studios. He promptly sued them, and was blackballed for ten years.
But that wasn’t the end for the director. Whereas no one could recite Nikkatsu’s other “double feature bottom halves”, Suzuki’s films now have a life of their own. Given a minimal budget and a thirty day shooting schedule, the director turned ho-hum scripts into pop masterpieces. Full of life and color, these pictures featured insane cinematography and dreamlike set-pieces. Suzuki’s yakuza weren’t all low life losers; they were the coolest of the cool.
Tokyo Drifter Starring Tetsuya Watari, Ryuji Kita and Hideaki Esumi. Directed by Seijun Suzuki.
Watching Tokyo Drifter as compared to, say, Battles Without Honor and Humanity, is akin to watching, say, Pulp Fiction as compared to The Godfather. Both look at gangsters and are important to their genre, but the styles of each are so stratospherically different that it’s difficult to look at them in the same category. Whereas Battles Without Honor and Humanity, the first chapter in Kinji Fukasaku’s epic five-part masterpiece, The Yakuza Papers, is a hard look at crime on the streets in post-WWII Japan, Tokyo Drifter is a live action gangster cartoon.
If there’s one word to describe Tokyo Drifter, it’s cool. This is evident from the film’s outset. The film begins as a former Yakuza name Tetsu (Tetsuya Watari) is beat up by a gang led by Boss Otsuka (Hideaki Esumi). The sequence is to establish how Tetsu and his own boss have gone straight and how he’s paying the price, but on top of that, the scene’s use of black and white is quite jarring. It’s apparent that Suzuki isn’t just using black and white for the hell of it. The scene’s lighting is very dark, making the gangsters indiscernible from one another as if they were faceless demons, beating down the virtuous Tetsu. Suzuki has his hero dressed in a light colored suit, making him easily identifiable compared to the black-suited Yakuza. Surviving the onslaught, Tetsu sees his gun, colored red, showing his way to back to evil, but he fights temptation.
Probably the least important element to Tokyo Drifter is its plot. Basically Tetsu and his boss, Kurata (Ryuji Kita) are former gangsters trying to go straight, but being forced back into the underworld by Boss Otsuka. There are double dealings and killings, and poor Tetsu is put on the lam to save his boss from jail time. That’s really all there is plot-wise to keep you concerned.
What’s way more important is style. Tetsuya Watari’s Tetsu is a wonderful hero for a film like this. He doesn’t have to draw much attention to himself as the sets and his wardrobe do most of the work for him. Most of the film he’s garbed in a powder blue suit, signifying his righteousness. This is in stark contrast to the rest of the gangsters present on screen. In many ways Tetsu is the forerunner to the stolid heroes of John Woo, Wong Kar-Wai, and Tarantino films, even predating Alain Delon’s hired killers from his Jean-Pierre Melville films. An amazing scene has Tetsu dueling it out with a killer named Viper on a set of tracks while a train barrels toward them in the background. Tetsu knows his range is no more than ten yards, so as Viper recklessly fires at the blue garbed hero, Tetsu casually counts the rails of the tracks, diving and shooting his way out of danger.
A really interesting touch to the character is his theme song, which he sings repeatedly throughout the feature. This isn’t like a subtle whistle or hum, but a full on rendition of the song. This is done three of four times during the movie, but actually adds quite a bit to the experience. The song is actually a bit of a precursor to action, as Tetsu usually sings the song as he’s going to a gun fight. The makes the anticipation for violence very similar to that of a Spaghetti Western, as we’re made to wait and wait until a quick snap of violence happens at the moment where you’re excitement is at its hilt.
Interesting cinematography gives the film a unique look that separates it from the other films of its era. Oftentimes, the camera is stationary, but tilted at an angle to put you off kilter. Peculiar aerial shots are also startling, as people slowly die as we get a God-like shot. Another has Tetsu underneath the floor of a Go-Go club, a piece of glass separating a slew of dancers from him. The scene makes me think of a similar shot in Kill Bill Vol. 1 where Uma Thurman’s Bride picks up her sword during the brawl with the Crazy 88.
Again, the use of color is staggering here, adding to the delirious nature of Tokyo Drifter. A wonderful sequence takes place during a shootout. A huge white wall gradually builds up a sea of red, culminating in the death of a girl. The film’s most famous shot is probably that of Tetsu walking down railroad tracks as he surrounded by miles of snow. Again clad in his powder blue suit, the man is yet again an abrupt dissimilarity to all others on screen, this time police officer all in gray trying to arrest the former gangster. Another set piece is a huge ballroom, reminiscent of some the gigantic rooms in some of the 50’s musicals. Watching the room throughout the picture, you would assume it was yellow in color, but Suzuki reveals at the film’s conclusion that the room is actually white, and that special lighting had been used throughout the movie to change the mood of the room.
It is in this room that Tetsu has his climactic gunfight with the men trying to rub him out. Clad all in white, the scene is deliberately paced and choreographed. Those expecting a John Woo explosion of gun fire will be disappointed. Those patient enough to see the brilliance in this setup will be highly satisfied. Apparently the executives at Nikkatsu Studios were not in the latter category.
They probably weren’t happy with the director’s penchant for slapstick comedy either. Directly after a huge showdown between Tetsu and a virtual army of thugs towards the film’s center, the drifter walks into a saloon where a “John Wayne” style bar fight breaks out between gangsters and American GI’s. The sequence is filled with absurdity that is typical with much of Suzuki’s work as staggering GI’s line up just to get beat down by a bunch of drunken women. The set is also a funny piece of art direction, as it looks like an old style saloon, only with a crazy array of colors.
Tokyo Drifter is full of eccentric performances to match the rest of the film. Hideaki Esumi’s Boss Otsuka is one of my favorites. Just as Tetsu’s blue and white ensembles are a sign of his honor, Esumi’s devious Otsuka is adorned in red. His face is purposefully hardly ever shown in its entirety and even less without his sunglasses. Otsuka is the symbol of ultimate evil in this film, with Suzuki making him seem as shifty as possible.
I’m a big fan of Hideaki Nitani’s Kenji Aizawa. Clad in what looks like a royal blue “Members Only” jacket, Kenji is known in the underworld as Shooting Star, and formerly one of its deadliest assassins. His introduction here is awesome, with Tetsu on the run from an ambush on a snowy hillside. As they close in, Kenji jumps into the fray, taking out all in sight with Karate kicks and throws. Nitani’s Shooting Star is a truly righteous character who becomes one of Tetsu’s only friends in the world as thugs close in on him. With all the scum surrounding our hero, it’s gratifying to have a character to truly root for other than Tetsu.
Need an old, retired Yakuza Boss? Ryuji Kita’s Kurata fits the bill swimmingly. You can feel the years closing in on him as he tries to put his past behind him. The killer in him also sputters to life as Otsuka’s men have him cornered. The final reel has the old-timer showing the ruthless leader that was hidden just under the surface. Ryuji Kita gives such a good performance that it never really seems to call attention to itself.
Tokyo Drifter represents one of the “coolest” movies I’ve ever seen. It’s got style coming out of its ears and marks one of the best of its genre, while being completely different from 99% of its other films. It’s too bad that Suzuki was not celebrated during this time period, as it would have been amazing to see what he could have done with an actual budget and shooting schedule of longer than a month. As it is, the man is still making movies, and his films are now celebrated as the classics they are.
(Picture Credits: 10kbullets.com, Amazon.com, DVDbeaver.com,Mitternachtskino.de)
