***1/2 (out of ****)
Starring Beat Takeshi, Tadanobu Asano, Michiyo Ookusu, Gadarukanaru Taka, Daigorô Tachibana,Yuuko Daike, and Ittoku Kishibe
Directed & written by Takeshi Kitano
2003 (2004 U.S. release)
111 min R
That a single movie can hold so many conflicting tones in balance—pulp violence, philosophical meditation, slapstick, and then end with a tap dance routine—is some kind of amazing. There is something so supremely confident about “Beat” Takeshi Kitano’s willingness to wander outside the lines of his chosen genre, to go on tangents, to cheerfully sidestep what he “ought” to be doing in a movie like this and instead indulge his sweet tooth. If there’s a direct connection between “Zatoichi’s” gang-driven revenge plot and Kitano’s decision to turn peasant work into semi-musical numbers, I didn’t see it. But, then again, I don’t care. I’ve seen revenge fantasies and gang movies before. But I hadn’t seen the building of a house and the breaking of stones set so exactly to music like that before. The result is a movie that loves being a movie, where we can go several scenes without seeing the title character and not mind, where the plot isn’t so important as having a good time. It’s infectious.
The set-up reminds us of “Yojimbo” or a dozen John Ford movies, and is pure pulp: a lone gunfighter/swordsman wanders into a town divided by criminals and reluctantly sets to cleaning it up. He is Zatoichi, hero of some score of Japanese films and television shows over the decades. Here he is played by “Beat” Takeshi Kitano for the first time, and reinvented for the 21st century as a self-effacing old man with a warm smile and a heavy heart. He is stooped, enjoys laughing, keeps his thoughts to himself, and will nod when you speak without quite saying that he agrees with you. He gives off the aura of a man who has seen it all before—metaphorically—and, although this time he likes to think that the human nature of others might behave differently, he puts on a smile without holding out much hope. Then out come the swords.
By slowing things down and stripping away unnecessary noise and dialogue, the movie adopts a meditative tone. Instead of boisterous bad guys we have quiet, sighing ones (including Ittoku Kishibe). They see the inevitable in what they do and take little pleasure in wealth or entertainment. We see the wandering ronin (Tadanobu Asano of, yes, “Electric Dragon 80,000 Volts”) with the sick wife, destined to be Zatoichi’s nemesis, not as a villain but as a tragic figure. Neither relishes his confrontation with the other, but what can they do? Fights are close, fast, and involve giant spurts of computer-generated blood, at once frightful and cartoonishly silly. (The DVD extras prove that, yes, Kitano really is that fast.) Throw in town gossip, an unseen boss, and two geishas with scores to settle, and there you go.
Action is contrasted with reflection and comic relief that is genuinely comic. Some viewers are critical of Kitano’s use of flashback. An entire swordfight, for instance, is played out in the rain without context, as Zatoichi is put upon by eight foes that don’t stand a chance. Kitano reminds us how we carry our memories around with us and replay them in quiet moments. We have mixed emotions about them and are uncertain how they will effect our future actions. The nearly-silent scene in which the vengeful geisha (Yuuko Daike) watches her brother (Daigorô Tachibana) dancing in drag is brilliant; it flashes back and forth between the past and the present, highlighting how his pleasant little smile is a cover for damaged goods.
Speaking of inevitable rhythms, is there something the movie is trying to say when we see peasants and villagers working in perfect, musical rhythm as they hoe fields and build houses? “The Blind Swordsman” contains scenes that are straight out of “The Three Stooges,” in which Zatoichi’s bumbling gambler sidekick (Gadarukanaru Taka) gets beaten over the head again and again by his best friends and ends up in drag. And the opening bit where a thug accidentally cuts a friend had me in stitches (and the friend, too—ba-dum ching!). So maybe a huge dance routine is the only way to tie it all together.
Finished Thursday, February 23rd, 2005
Copyright © 2005 Friday & Saturday Night
Back to home.