Branded to Kill

Rice-sniffing, #3 Killer, dead butterflies, snuff films. Where to start? 'Koroshi no rakuin' is a surreal, Kafkaesque, timewarp of a film masquerading as a stylish 60's hit-man movie. Nikkatsu Studios fired Seijun Suzuki over this film's "incomprehensibility."

Suzuki is an auteur of the highest magnitude, nobody has ever used a widescreen, black and white, "Nikkatsu Scope" frame quite like him. The dense and beautifully chaotic images are overwhelming on your first viewing, it's the sort of movie that shows you something new every time you watch it.

Essentially Hanado Goro (Jo Shisido) is the yakuza's #3 Killer, but he desperately wants to be #1. As might be expected, being a hired gun is a stressful life and Hanado takes the edge off with lots of sex and the smell of boiling rice. The sex gets him embroiled in some sort of a plot and he finds himself getting much better acquainted with #1 Killer than he'd ever wanted to be.

Time backs up, swirls around, restarts, slows down. Major themes include, but are not limited to: ambition, lust, rivalry, bureaucracy, addiction, loss of self-control. There's a certain parallel in that with this picture Suzuki derailed his own career as a "salary man" making Nikkatsu yakuza flicks, many of Hanado's thoughts and impulses must have been the director's own.

Branded to Kill is a wonderfully peculiar Japanese hit-man film. Not only has it worked as an inspiration for many directors, but it's also an experience that, I feel, everyone should get to have. While it didn't work for me as well as I had hoped, it is so unique that it's hard not to like it.

Branded to Kill starts off great. The little information it gives isn't enough to have a good idea of what's going on, and the early intensity and pace shrouded in mystery work wonderfully. While it is clear from the very beginning that this isn't going to be your typical crime flick, the film takes its time to really get going with the peculiarities. At first, it feels like any old hit-man movie, and I found those moments to be the most effective. That's not to say that the movie doesn't have great moments throughout, it's just that it doesn't deliver them as effectively as it did in the beginning, but more on that later. The film starts with a fast-paced action sequence that introduces us to the main character, the No. 3 hit-man in Japan. As we get to know him, we learn that he isn't what you would call a typical hit-man. He is, for example, obsessed with the smell of cooked rice, one of his many quirks. As we get to know him, we also get an idea of what Branded to Kill is really going to be like.

While, at first, it might seem that there is nothing peculiar going on, the movie quickly throws that presumption out the window. As more characters are introduced, and as the story progresses, it becomes evidently clear that there is much more there than first meets the eye. And although these oddities are what make this film what it is, and the thing that lifted it into the cult following it has, I found them to be the downfall of it, as well. While the many curiosities, like No. 3's fetish of cooked rice, or the jazz soundtrack, or even the very open and aggressive portrayal of erotica work well and give the film an edge that others like it don't have, they, unfortunately, make it also feel unfocused. I feel that there is a limit to how much you can play with things that normally wouldn't belong to such a film, and still get away with. In the case of Branded to Kill, that line was crossed, at least as far as my enjoyment went. The resulting product, while certainly interesting and unique, lacked focus and coherency.

However, while most of the film felt lacklustre, thankfully it found its stride towards the end. Indeed, as good as the beginning was, I think that the ending was even better. It's filled with tension and uncertainty, and quite frankly, it feels like the movie finally found the mood it was trying to achieve from the very get-go. As such, I find it very unfortunate that the rest of the film wasn't able to find its tempo and flow. It felt like there were so many ideas that were crammed into Branded to Kill that it would've been nearly impossible to create a film that felt complete, especially when you consider the short runtime. Apart from the beginning and the end, the rest felt like a series of mini-movies each with their own idea. Accordingly, it was difficult to fall into the film and let it take me for a ride. I was constantly thrown out of the idea and scene just as I was getting settled into it. While this approach might've worked had there been a clearer narrative between each scene, the sheer number of ideas and stories being told made it difficult to appreciate them.

The more I think about, the more I feel like Branded to Kill just wasn't for me. While I appreciate the efforts it took to experiment, I found myself wishing for a clearer narrative. However, there is no denying the uniqueness it has. Although I won't be watching it again any time soon, I'm glad that I have seen it. It's clear why it has inspired so many directors, and why it has garnered such a large cult following around the world.

Wow, I thought the Japanese turned out some weird stuff nowadays. That lame crap has nothing on this wacky thing, which requires about 57 viewings to make any kind of narrative sense.

Jo Shishido (who has cheek implants (!!) that make him look like a chipmunk) is the third best killer in Japan. Apparently, all assassins in Japan do, other than kill people, is try to better themselves in the rankings. It's much like Pokemon, in a way. Jo strives to be number one, but, not only does he have to get past a bunch of backstabbers, he has to find the #1 Phantom, the high man on the totem. And when he does, it's rip roarin' nonsense time!

It's hard to tell if this is a work of genius or of pure insanity. There's no real narrative; more like a bunch of scenes held together by the fact they're all in the same movie. Some of the stuff is so nutty, it's hard not to call it brilliant, like when Jo finally does meet Phantom and they have a sit-down, Phantom pisses his pants rather than get up and take his eyes off Jo. Or the hit that gets foiled by a butterfly. Or Jo's girlfriend's obsession with dead bugs, which lay in piles on the floor. Or the shocking amount of sex and violence in a movie made in 1967. It's really no surprise that the director had his contract summarily terminated when the studio watched this: it is the weirdest movie to come out of Japan in 1967. Or maybe ever. Be prepared to watch more than once.

A bizarre yakuza flick with a taste for over-the-top visuals and modern stylistics, Branded to Kill follows the strange day-to-day existence of an expert hit-man who carries out his orders with steely determination and impassive cool. All hell breaks loose, however, when a butterfly alighting on his rifle scope results in a botched job -- and a death sentence for the screw-up. Joe Shishido, with his collagen-enhanced cheekbones, makes a terrific anti-hero whose unusual quirks (Suzuki reasoned that a man obsessed with the scent of warm rice would signal to audiences that this guy was quintessentially Japanese) instantly endear him to newly-made fans. Branded to Kill is wild fun, and has been favorably and frequently compared to the work of artists as different as John Woo and David Lynch -- which makes it all the more exhilarating when you realize it was made in 1967.

The number-three-ranked hit-man (who makes these rankings?), with a fetish for sniffing boiling rice, fumbles his latest job, which puts him into conflict with a mysterious woman whose death wish inspires her to surround herself with dead butterflies and dead birds. Worse danger comes from his own treacherous wife and finally with the number-one-ranked hit-man, known only as a phantom to those who fear his unseen presence. Number One proves to be a nut, willing to go to great lengths to torment his victim, even sleep in the same bed with him. He's also so dedicated to his job that he'll urinate on himself rather than take his eyes off his victim by going to the toilet.

I'm getting used to the idea of a certain type of crime film that is so densely plotted you never quite know what's going on and are forced to give up on it in order to enjoy the picture. American films of this type, such as "The Maltese Falcon," are usually so deftly put together that you don't realize you haven't followed everything until you stop to think about it. Other countries produce films that require a bit more patience. I recently watched the French gangster pic, "Le Doulos" (1962), and learned early to resign myself to semi-confusion.

This film, from the nutty Japanese director, Seijun Suzuki, requires a extra level of resignation. Often I couldn't tell what was happening from shot to shot. Suzuki's disorienting style is sometimes marvelous and sometimes irritating; but I can't say I was ever bored. Many of the effects in this sex-and-violence-packed film are dazzling. I especially liked how the femme fatale, in her early close-ups, is perpetually drenched by a downpour whether she's out in the rain or not.

I enjoyed this film, but any viewer can be forgiven for giving up on it and saying, "I don't get it." There's no deep meaning to get. You either abandon yourself to the goofy entertainment being offered, or you don't.