Matt Cooper Films

Gonin 2 (1996) by Takashi Ishii

When his wife dies by suicide after being raped by Yakuza thugs, Masamichi (Ken Ogata) sets out for revenge, attacking those responsible. Meanwhile, a group of women are caught in the middle of a jewellery store robbery, managing to make it out of the ensuing firefight with the loot. The women must decide what to do with their spoils while avoiding the repercussions from the gangsters who want to reclaim it.Their actions bring them into contact with Masamichi who is looking for one of the jewels he had promised to his wife before her death.

“Gonin 2” is a spiritual successor to the first film, with scant nods to the previous film. It brings the same mix of violent action and emotional backstories, with yakuza shootouts, rape and robbery. The main cast do a great job, from Ken Ogata’s broken widower, Masamichi, whose own guilt underscores his anger at his wife’s abusers. The women face every possible outrage perpetrated on the female sex, from victims of abuse, jilted lovers, and teenage prositutes; beaten and betrayed by the patriarchal world they inhabit, their rage is palpable. Shinobu Otake, Kimiko Yo, Mai Kitajima, Yui Natsukawa and Yumi Nishiyama bring the same blend of chemistry, heart and humour as the men in the first film, proving they are more than capable of handling themselves. This emancipatory tale sits alongside the exploitation elements of nudity, but largely steers clear of sexualising its protagonists, instead highlighting the dangers they face due to their gender. Exciting action sequences with a score by Goro Yasukawa that moves from frenetic to operatic, capturing the theatrical tragicality of the story. This is very much a larger-than-life story, not afraid to push credibility to the limits. Ishii’s talented direction captures striking shots and sequences with a natural flair.

More than a simple crime caper, “Gonin 2”, by treating the female protagonists with no less respect than the men in the first film, becomes a feminist piece highlighting the adverse circumstances they suffer under, everything from daily slights to serious abuse. The scene in which the women dance to an old jukebox emphasises their joy at being freed from societal constraits, now able to steer their own destinies. While it may be wish-fulfilment to believe that they would triumph under such circumstances, we are completely behind them as they variously evade and take on the evil gangsters that pursue them, with every victory a body-blow against the men who dismiss or underestimate them. A stunning sequel that captures the energy and emotion of the original, while delivering a poignant reminder of the inequalities still prevalent in society.

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

Family 1&2 (2001) by Takashi Miike

After a traumatic childhood, the three Miwa brothers, Hideshi (Koichi Iwaki), Takashi (Kazuya Kimura), and the youngest Takeshi (Taishu Kase), become involved in a life of crime, the elder siblings working as underbosses for a major crime family, while Takeshi becomes a professional assassin. When Takeshi kills the leader of a rival gang it sparks a conflict that threatens to spiral into an all-out war.

“Family 1&2” features many of the usual tropes of Yakuza drama, but with very little impact. The film begins with a rape scene in which Haruko Miwa, the mother of the three protagonists, is assaulted after her husband is unable to pay his debts. As shocking as this scene and others like it are, they function as plot mechanics rather than having any real impact on the characters, and by extension the audience. The film continually swerves any moments of real drama, such as Hideshi’s wife confronting him about the danger they are in, or the brothers’ relationship with their mother; instead layering scenes that fail to develop the characters, but serve to showcase stereotypical gang violence. It feels like a series of subplots jumbled together without any central story or message. Usually, a Yakuza gang war would be the backdrop to a human drama, while here it is the whole point. There is a tonal inconsistency that makes it hard to take anything seriously and undermines what should be devastating moments. The sequence in which Takashi’s wife is being raped, while Takashi and his brother arrive in a tank to take on the gang is one example of this mismatch in tones, trivialising a horrifying experience. The film is based on a manga by Hisao Maki, which may account for some of the more bizarre elements and outrageous characterisation (Takeshi is a preternaturally gifted gunman), but it is a poor excuse for the lacklustre storytelling. Part daytime television drama, part hardcore Yakuza film. Miike’s direction shows signs of his usual creativity, until the strain of attempting to elevate the material becomes too much. Sadly, the film’s flashes of brilliance are outweighed by its meandering, emotionally-detached plot, and low-budget elements.

Matt Cooper Films

Yakuza Wives (1986) by Hideo Gosha

Tamaki Awazu (Shima Iwashita) is holding her husband’s place as head of a powerful yakuza family during his incarceration, their operation in Takamatsu running under the auspices of the Domoto Syndicate. The Domoto family is thrown into turmoil following the death of their chairman. An ambitious lieutenant, Koiso (Mikio Narita) strikes out on his own, hiring an outsider Sugita (Masanori Sera) to kill the boss’s successor, Kakinuma. Tamaki remains loyal to her original clan, rejecting Koiso’s proposal to join the new outfit. However, Tamaki’s decision is made more perilous when she discovers that her younger sister Makoto (Rino Katase) has begun a relationship with Sugita, who also harbours ambitions of rising in the criminal underworld.

Based on a book by Shoko Ieda that collected interviews with real Yakuza spouses, with a screenplay by Koji Takada, “Yakuza Wives” offers a look into the lives of the women involved with the Yakuza. Often sidelined or used as window dressing, here Tamaki and her sister take centre stage and we see they are riven with the same conflicted loyalties, tormented by the same brutal moral code, and equal to the men in maliciousness and self-interest. The performances by Shima Iwashita as the ice-cold matriarch and Rino Katase as the naive side-piece to a vicious killer, are rich and believable in their duelling ideologies. The film occasionally over-burdens itself with exposition, but when the characters are given a chance to breathe they create a compelling world and web of relationships. The supporting cast are good as the more familiar yakuza stereotypes: Masanori Sera as the thuggish Sugita and Mikio Narita as the avaricious Koiso in particular. Throughout there is an underlying threat as the pieces move into place, punctuated by flashes of violence as it spills over in killings as the men attempt to claw their way to a position of power. There is a stylishness to Hideo Gosha’s directing, with the lavish lifestyles of the criminal class on full display masking the harsh realities of fortunes built on bloodshed.

“Yakuza Wives” ends with a shocking climax that reinforces the message of the film: that a callous live-by-the-sword-die-by-the-sword mentality usually ends badly for all parties involved. Throughout the film expresses the sense that the Yakuza, despite their stylish pretentions are involved in little more than puerile power-games. In the sequence in which Tamaki and Makoto fight we witness a childish squabble replete with hair-pulling and rolling around on the floor. It is comi-tragic as it represents what the Yakuza as a whole are involved in, infantile disputes made more deadly in maturity. At heart “Yakuza Wives” is a drama about family feuds and the potentially lethal consequences of an endless demand for authority.

Matt Cooper Films

Pornostar (1998) by Toshiaki Toyoda

An aimless drifter finds himself recruited into a violent gang struggle in this crime drama. We never learn much about the protagonist Arano (Koji Chihara), who wanders the streets of Tokyo clutching a sports bag. When he is confronted by gang leader Kamijo (Onimaru) he shows little reaction to his aggressive threats. When he later turns up at their headquarters having murdered two other gangsters, Kamijo decides rather than killing him, as they were instructed to do, to use him in their negotiations with drug-dealers and their turf-war with rival Yakuza boss Matsunaga (Tetta Sugimoto). However, Kamijo soon discovers that he is unable to control Arano’s violent outbursts and hatred for all yakuza, threatening their business and their lives.

Writer-director Toshiaki Toyoda creates a unique crime drama from the perspective of a mysterious outsider who strolls carelessly into the violent underworld of thugs, drugs and punks. We have familiar scenes of mobsters dealing with their boss; attempting to sell acid; or wondering how they are going to carry out their orders to murder the head of another crime family. But in each situation things are complicated by Arano’s nihilistic and unpredictable world view. We never discover why he hates the Yakuza so fiercely, although any number of reasons would be easy to imagine. Likewise, he remains an enigma with regards to his past and also what he carries around in his bag. It is a crime thriller that seems to be cracked wide open with the inclusion of this singular individual. The direction moves from stylised sequences to more mundane everyday moments, and the score similarly appears at moments of high drama while being entirely absent at other moments. This creates a tonal dissonance between the ‘real’ world and the stylised violence of the yakuza film in which the protagonist finds himself.

“Pornostar” delights in the mystery of its central character. The contents of the bag that he carries remain unknown throughout, lending themselves to even a metaphysical interpretation. Arano remains somewhat distant from us as the audience and we are never sure exactly what he is thinking, or what he might do next; his reasoning for joining the gangsters is similarly left unexplained. We do see him stand up to an adult bullying children, which may suggest some motivation for his actions. Likewise, his hatred of the yakuza is suggestive of some past history with them. His only concern seems to be what will be written on his epitaph, a question he asks several times throughout the film. Perhaps he is intended to be a blank slate, buffetted by those around him, lacking any will of his own. His tragedy seems to be that he is unable to walk his own path, rather forced into the violent society we see around him. The sequence early in the film when we see him appear through a crowd of people at a crosswalk is the perfect metaphor for this theme of attempting to establish a sense of individuality in a society.