Matt Cooper Films

A Stray Crow Samurai (2025) by Tomohiko Yamashita

In 1666, a young boy, Jiro (Fuju Kamio), witnesses his uncle (Kippei Shiina) massacre his entire family and household. Fleeing from their village, Jiro returns 14 years later seeking revenge and answers from his relative. When he returns he finds his uncle has become the ‘Stray Crow’ of the title, dressed humbly he spends his time helping the common folk with daily chores. Aided by a shogunate spy, and local inspector Maehara (Soko Wada) who also bears a grudge against Jiro’s uncle, he attempts to enact his revenge. Jiro is also helped by a young woman, Eri (Chihiro Yamamoto), who is one of the town’s most impressive swordfighters.

Adapted from the novel by Ryo Akagami, “Stray Crow” leans into melodrama, with the opening sequence seeing a violent skirmish amongst a thunderstorm before the house is set on fire, and young Jiro fleeing through the rain with the flames roaring behind him. The film is strongly plotted, but the sets feel lifeless and Tomohiko Yamashita’s direction uninspired. There is a sense of theatricality, as though the characters are walking through a samurai-era themepark rather than truly inhabiting this world. The final twist in the tale also begs a number of questions, leading to a rather underwhelming finale.

The central mystery of Jiro’s uncle’s actions is resolved later in the film as a ruse to distract the authorities from a more dangerous truth: that the town has a large secret Christian population. It presents a moral quandary for Jiro, whose uncle murders dozens of people in order to protect many more. While Jiro comes to understand the reasoning of his uncle, viewers may find this logic hard to follow. “Stray Crow” sets up a thrilling revenge tale only to deny you the final moment of catharsis in favour of something more nuanced: coming to terms with the justified actions of a perceived enemy. This underwhelming ending sadly leaves the film without a strong conclusion, failing to deliver on the promise of thrilling action from the opening.

Matt Cooper Films

Sumo Do, Sumo Don’t (1992) by Masayuki Suo

Failing University student Shuhei Yamamoto (Masahiro Motoki) is asked by his supervisor Anayama (Akira Emoto) to join the sumo club in exchange for letting him graduate. The only other member of the club Aoki (Naoto Takenaka) begins to train Shuhei, and the two recruit several new members: the plus-sized and socially awkward Tanaka (Hiromasa Taguchi), Shuhei’s popular younger brother Haruo (Masaaki Takarai), and English overseas student ‘Smiley’ (Robert Hoffman). Top student Natsuko (Misa Shimizu) uses her marketing skills to promote the club and bring more attention to them. Despite being a complete disaster in their first event, the group decide to work hard and attempt to compete properly in future tournaments.

“Sumo Do, Sumo Don’t”, written and directed by Masayuki Suo, follows the typical set-up for underdog sports stories, with a motley band of characters coming together to overturn incredible odds. There are a few laughs to be had, such as Aoki’s problems with a dippy stomach before bouts, and the hapless team’s underwhelming performance at their initial trial, but unfortunately the script is sparse and the time mostly filled with sumo competitions. More could have been done with the characters but they remain little more than caricatures. It’s not that a comedy needs character development, but the film is also lacking in engaging material, meaning that as things progress it becomes a chore to watch.

It is hard to find too much to say about ‘Sumo Do, Sumo Don’t’ that couldn’t be said of any sports drama involving a unlikely group of athletes triumphing against the odds. We have lessons on the value of teamwork; the joy of overcoming arrogant opponents with unconventional tactics; and mildly amusing training montages. It is good to see the focus on the traditional Japanese sport of sumo, but the film repeatedly misses opportunities to develop humorous material about the various unusual rituals associated with it. An innocuous enough sporting drama that fails to capitalise on its potential.

Matt Cooper Films

Silence (1971) by Masahiro Shinoda

With Christianity outlawed in Japan, its adherents are forced to worship in private while those who practice openly are arrested, tortured, and killed. Two Portuguese priests, Rodriguez (David Lampson) and Garupe (Don Kenny), arrive in Japan with the help of Kichijiro (Mako Iwamatsu), with the intention of ministering to those who hold to the Christian faith in secret. They are also looking for their senior, Padre Ferreira who was captured by the authorities some years before. As the persecution of Christians continues, the two foreigners are forced to confront their own faith and morality.

Based on the novel by Shusaku Endo and directed by Masahiro Shinoda, is a sombre look at the often troubled relationship between religion and society that resonates as keenly today as in the period-setting of the story. The plot confronts us with questions of whether it is better to cling to faith or to alleviate people’s earthly suffering; and details the conflict between religious authorities and secular powers. Rodriguez insists on remaining loyal to the church in the face while troubled back the lack of divine intervention; while the Japanese are attempting to unite the country around the pre-existing religious faiths of the land. The film is well-paced as we follow the Portuguese missionaries, and witness the repeated attacks on their congregation. There is tension throughout between the Christian and non-Christian factions that reflects the ongoing divides in society brought about by belief. David Lampson gives a fantastic performance as the protagonist Rodriguez, albeit struggling with the heavy Japanese dialogue occassionally, as the film becomes almost a trial or temptation narrative for him, with repeated opportunities for him to renounce his faith in order to save others.

Religion continues to play a major role in many peoples lives, no less divisive than it was in the 17th Century. “Silence” gives us a stark look at the lives of believers who remain commited to these ideologies, attempting to reassure themselves that their actions are meaningful and righteous in the face of the contrary evidence. We also see the torment that followers of faith endure when they believe they have betrayed their religion, most keenly in the character of Kichijiro, who believes he is an amoral individual for selling out his fellow Christians in order to save himself. The film’s shocking final moments confront us with troubling implications for both the characters and wider humanity. A superb film with a timeless moral conundrum at its heart; worth watching for the thrilling plot and performances.

Matt Cooper Films

The Miracles of the Namiya General Store (2017) by Ryuichi Hiroki

Based on a best-selling novel by mystery author Keigo Higashino, “The Miracles of the Namiya General Store” tells the story of a group of people connected by an orphanage and a peculiar store that allows messages to be sent through time. The film begins with three young men, Shota (Nijiro Murakami), Kohei (Kanichiro), and Atsuya (Ryosuke Yamada), on the run after committing a burglary. They hide out in the titular store, now abandoned, hoping that at sunrise they will be able to disappear into the crowds of commuters. While waiting, a letter drops through a slot in the shutters, apparently from 32 years prior in 1980. The trio discover that the previous owner, Mr. Namiya (Toshiyuki Nishida), had answered queries from residents and they decide to post a reply in the milk box outside, as he used to do. Miraculously their message is recieved in 1980 and they begin a correspondance with a young musician (Kento Hayashi) in the past. They later help out another young woman who is worrying about her finances. Meanwhile, in the past, Mr. Namiya is able to receive letters from the future, offering him a chance to appreciate the effect he has had on the community.

Directed by Ryuichi Hiroki with a screenplay by Hiroshi Saito, “The Miracles of the Namiya General Store” is a charming drama about connection and helping your fellow individuals. It has several tropes of the traditional tear-jerker: orphaned children, a sacrifice to save others, cancer, suicide attempts, and redemption. The characters are interesting, but due to the abundance of plots it can be hard to sympathise with any one in particular, with the various sorrowful tales becoming overwhelming. The ensemble cast, which also includes Machiko Ono, Riko Narumi, and Rio Yamashita, do a great job and all of the plots do tie together at the end. It is interesting to see the three different time periods of the film, the late 60s, 1980, and 2012 and they do a good job with the changing fashions and sets. There are moments where the film’s pacing does drag, such as a lengthy sequence of a song performance that, while central to the plot, could have been cut down significantly. The footage of the singer Seri (Mugi Kadowaki), dancing on a beach during this musical interlude, suggests even the filmmakers were unsure how to fill the time.

While it is melodramatic, the film executes the drama with panache, and there are sure to be at least a couple of the stories that resonate with you. Whether it is Mr. Namiya’s dedication to providing top-class advice even in difficult situations, the plight of the orphanage, Seri’s attempts to repay the debt owed to her by the man who sacrificed himself to save her brother, or a young high-schooler whose parentage drives her to depression. The film has a strong message of believing in hope even in the most seemingly hopeless situations and also about the importance of helping others and the impact our lives have on one another. It doesn’t pay to think to closely about the mechanics of how the letters are transported through time, or the various paradoxes this would create, but it is a fun conceit to drive the drama between the interconnected characters. Worth a watch for fans of emotionally charged human drama.

Matt Cooper Films

Gozu (2003) by Takashi Miike

After being tasked with taking his senior to be executed, a young Yakuza (Hideki Sone) encounters a series of bizarre and troubling incidents in this unconventional crime tale. “Gozu” begins with the Yakuza Ozaki (Show Aikawa) telling his boss that everything that he’s about to say is a joke, and not to take it too seriously. This could be a nod to the audience that we are in for a wild ride, even by the standards of director Takashi Miike’s extensive catalogue of weird and wonderful films. Not long after Ozaki says this he spots a small dog outside; convinced it is a ‘Yakuza dog’, specially trained to kill gangsters, he heads outside to dash the dog against the ground, swinging it around his head on its lead before flinging it into the window. This sets the tone for the film’s blend of dark comedy, graphic violence, and seemingly non-sequitur storytelling. After Ozaki dies unexpectedly in an accident, his junior, Minami (Sone), stops by a cafe; but when he returns to the car, Ozaki is gone. Things get stranger when Minami checks in at a nearby ryokan, with a lactating landlady, a cow-headed figure in Y-fronts, rituals to summon spirits, odd patrons of the local cafe, and the mystery of how a dead man got up and walked away.

Written by Sakichi Sato and directed by Takashi Miike, “Gozu” provides an entertaining story from beginning to end, with provocative imagery veering from sinister to hilarious. The film constantly undercuts the tension wtih moments of farce, or drives things to the extreme in a way that leaves you searching for some symbolism. Hideki Sone does a great job as the confused Minami, his anxiety about what he has to do and his loyalty to his senior writ large in his performance. Likewise, the unhinged thug Ozaki is played brilliantly by Show Aikawa. The cast of peculiar characters they meet along the road, including Shohei Hino’s Nose, a man with a peculiar skin condition, and Keiko Tomita and Harumi Sone, the odd couple who run the local inn, all help to bring the film’s mysterious journey to life. Koji Endo’s score of grinding strings furthers the unsettling atmosphere, emphasising Minami’s descent into a world both inexplicable and inescapable.

“Gozu” is a film that lends itself to interpretation, but it is hard to pin down just one. At its heart it centres on the anxiety of Minami, perhaps grappling with his conscience knowing that is driving his senior to his death. Ozaki is knocked out when Minami brakes hard as the road comes to an abrupt end at a river. This could be the first of several references to the afterlife, although they do not cross the river. Whether Ozaki is in hell, purgatory, or some nighmare world, the mystery deepens as he falls for a woman claiming to be Ozaki, played by Kimika Yoshino. Again, it is possible to see this as Ozaki’s spirit, now in its pure form, and the final moments of the film again twist ideas of identity and self to a grotesque yet compelling conclusion. The film seems to poke fun at the Yakuza as an institution, particularly in the character of their boss (Renji Ishibashi), who has a peculiar ritual required before love-making. Whether a parody of the typical crime film; a dark dive into the psyche of gangsters; or a film about closeted homosexuality, “Gozu” is a film that provides plenty of food for thought.