Matt Cooper Films

Gonin (1995) by Takashi Ishii

Five men attempt to escape the brutal vengeance of the Yakuza after stealing 100 million yen from them. Club owner Bandai (Koichi Sato) is in debt to the Yakuza who come to his club to harrass him. He recruits knife-weidling fraudster Mitsuya (Masahiro Motoki), ex-detective Hizu (Jinpachi Nezu), violent tearaway Jimmy (Kippei Shiina), and an unemployed salaryman (Naoto Takenaka), all of whom either have monetary worries or a vendetta against the Yakuza, in a daring raid on the offices of the group. Following their heist, the Yakuza hire two hitmen, played by Takeshi Kitano and Kazuya Kimura, to find the men responsible.

Written and directed by Takashi Ishii, “Gonin” is a stylish crime thriller with a great cast of central characters. The slight backstories give us enough to sympathise with them, through their planned robbery and the merciless hunting of them that follows. This group of anti-heroes all have their own peculiarities and the film lets us see the psychological turmoil they are going through. The early part of the film takes its time to establish their circumstances, which makes the final third even more thrilling as we watch their attempts to escape the hitmen that have been assigned to kill them. The film’s oppressive noir atmosphere is perfectly encapsulated in the various night-scenes and shootouts in the pouring rain. This is a world that is awash with violence, drugs, avaricious mobsters, and brutal repercussions and the superb score by Goro Yasukawa underlines the tensions and tragedy of those involved.

“Gonin” presents the image of a deeply depressing world, where no deed goes unpunished. The senseless violence drives home the point that any involvement with the criminal underworld is likely to end poorly, whatever your intentions. Violence begets violence and the cycle continues. The film also forefronts homosexuality, with both the protagonists and antagonists, which nods to the idea that heroes and villains are distinguished only by their actions. The final shot of the film also highlights this duality in man and we are left to wonder what will become of a world in which violence is permitted to flourish.

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

Gemini (1999) by Shinya Tsukamoto

Doctor Yukio (Masahiro Motoki) has recently returned from treating soldiers at the front. His parnter Rin (Ryo) is a woman who appears to be suffering amnesia, with Yukio reminding her she was rescued from a fire that destroyed her home. Yukio begins to sense a strange shadowy personage following him and the house, where he is living with his parents, is troubled by an unpleasant smell. This dark figure reveals itself as a man who appears to be the double of Yukio. After a struggle this sinister doppelganger supplants the doctor who looks on helpless as this man, Sutekichi (also Masahiro Motoki), rekindles a romantic relationship with Rin.

The story is loosely based on an Edogawa Ranpo story, and on the surface, Shinya Tsukamoto’s “Gemini” follows a traditional gothic horror narrative. The double who appears to first haunt its victim and later take over his life, speaks to a primeval fear and is referenced in works throughout history. However, Tsukamoto is not a writer or director to be satisfied with such a straightforward tale, infusing the story with psychological terror and social satire. Interestingly, this is Tsukamoto’s first film to have a historical setting. There are brief flahses here of the grotesque imagery that characterises much of Tsukamoto early work (Testuo, Tokyo Fist, Bullet Ballet), with the film’s shock opening of a maggot-riddled feline corpse attended by rats providing an unsettling image, the horror of which remains in the subconscious, infecting the following narrative with horrific undertones.. As we witness Yukio seeing patients we need little reminder of the terrifying, gruesome realities of the natural world, of suffering, death and violence. Throughout Tsukamoto switches between quiet scenes of eerie dialogue and cacophanous, chaotic action, the vivid violence resonating through the haunted silences. This technique works perfectly to create a sense of unease, tension and shock, helped by the incredible work of long-time collaborator composer Chu Ishikawa, whose score captures the ever-changing qualities of the film, from hellish chants, to melancholic dirges.

Tsukamoto packs a number of themes and ideas into “Gemini”. The three protagonists may represent a typical love triangle, but their characters and performances are all reflective of deeper, more significant themes, referencing class struggle and societal causes of suffering. Yukio criticises the lower classes as little more than animals, unaware that Rin is herself comes from a lowly position, as a thief. This defect in his character, his inability to feel compassion for those less fortunate, makes his fate less sympathetic and his character more nuanced than an unfortunate victim. Sutekichi’s upbringing as part of an acting troupe also speaks to this notion that people only play the roles they are given and that class is a matter of luck as opposed to ability. We see this most clearly in the ease with which Sutekichi attains and maintains his new position as Yukio’s replacement. There is talk of disease in the film, again the fault of which is laid at the door of the lower classes. This along with the dead cat at the beginning are a stark reminder of the fragility of human life that can be snatched away in an instant. It is a dog-eat-dog, or rat-eat-cat, world in which people attain positions through violence rather than skill or ability. We see Yukio’s parents who will not accept Rin as they don’t know where she is from. A dark horror that touches on themes of class and identity with Tsukamoto’s typical visual flair.