Tokyo Fist

I watched this film on DVD for a second time tonight and I am sitting here struggling to comprehend the underlying meaning. I guess that begs the question as to whether there actually is one! Well, according to the director he wants to express the irrational. But is this irrationality based on some real underlying disturbance? I personally saw reflections of a number of underlying themes and I am wondering whether anybody else felt the same way. It seemed to me in particular that there was an element of repressed anger and violence in the Japanese society, as is so evident in Japanese anime (especially the 'hentai' variety). It certainly was a powerful film and the self destructiveness and brooding anger of the three central characters was certainly frightening yet moving at the same time.

I still wonder what the ending meant though, but I am tempted to interpret the parallel between the lead characters as an expression of some sort of common pent up repression of Japanese society. Let me know lest I start punching walls or succumb to the compulsion to have my head pounded :-)

The first ten minutes are awesome. The movie is very strong, but the quality varies a lot along its development until its bad end. Both the fast paced training scenes and the oppressive Tokyo city footage are very nice. Though, the bizarreness of the story bores. This is a live action film with an anime aesthetics (for anime fans perhaps the movie pleases more). It could be a great movie if it had developed better the main character's ordinary life as a white collar, the chaos of the city (the story does not explore the interesting way the town is shown), the dangerous boxer who tattooes the number of defeated challengers on his shoulder. Less emphasis in body horror and sneezing blood would also contribute to a more satisfactory outcome. The director's brother should be substituted by a better actor. A different and better story for the love triangle would be necessary too. To conclude, the director/writer/actor Shin'ya Tsukamoto has the skills, but lacks good taste and makes bad decisions.

I feel it's sort of a shame for such a movie to have less than at least 100 reviews on its page. So here I go, helping it out with this 22nd review, if I recall it correctly...

First time I read a review on Tokyo Fist on another site, I didn't quite know what to expect from this movie. I was deep down in Cronenberg horror, but this title's plot and atmosphere (as described by a rather insipid reviewer, I guess) simply eluded my intuition. Luckily, I decided to give this a try, and it was one good decision. Tokyo Fist stands at a fine border between black comedy (and also really dry), surrealism, action and plain existential malaise. Tsukamoto's cam angles and effects act perfectly coherently with his intent, from emphasizing the ridiculous monotony and isolation in Tsuda's life to highlighting the irrational ferocity of his old "friend" that almost seems to turn night into day and day into night.

Now, diving a bit into the predictable Fight Club comparison, Tokyo Fist is the severe, restrained, Eastern cousin of Palahniuk's novel's adaptation. There is no noticeable trace of emotion (maybe except anger), pathetism, or nihilist verbosity in the discourse of Tokyo Fist's characters. It's as if their existence and the duty of assuming various roles (and subsequent failures) squeezed their sentimental tendencies out of them and sent them into an abyss. There is no "love trio" in this movie, no matter how tempting it would be to call it that way. Its three main characters remain as insulated as can be, until the very end - a brilliantly open and non-conclusive end to a small, powerful drama of people not able to manage their remorse or lack of meaning without showering themselves in suffering. Beyond the plot, there are some really nice hyperkinetic boxing scenes in this movie, and the generous to parodic flows of blood and bruises might seem chuckle and nausea-inducing at the same time.

I am afraid, though, that what I have said doesn't give this film the aura that it deserves. If you are not necessarily an adrenaline freak yet not an instant puker either, and want to see something done artistically indeed, you ought to give this at least one punch with the eye.

Watching a movie by Shinya Tsukamoto is a bit like staring into the deepest pits of hell, or the darkest recesses of the male psyche, whichever way you want to put it. But then the two seem fairly synonymous, at least if the sheer visceral anger in Tokyo Fist is anything to go by.

Those aware of Tsukamoto's feature-length debut Tetsuo (1988) will be familiar with the basic premise in Tokyo Fist; flawed relationship between man and woman is brutally disrupted by an outside element which challenges the protagonist to a potentially lethal, and eventually soul-destroying, duel. Similarly to other pioneers of horror (eg. Cronenberg, Miike), Tsukamoto chooses to use all kinds of repulsive visuals. Just to give you an idea, if a face almost literally falling off after a boxing match is too much for you, it's probably best to stay away from this film.

However, the brutal imagery is not completely pointless. Tokyo Fist portrays male anger with such honesty that it is sometimes painful to watch, but that's really the point since violence is not something to be cooed at or to be admired (which is what many Hollywood movies seemingly aim to achieve, witness the way audiences are prompted to cheer for the good guy as he murders the baddie). The violence in Tokyo Fist is allegorical in nature, ie. it stands for something else than just simply fists flying: the inability between men and women (and, indeed, men and men) to understand each other ultimately leads to the kind of extreme violence we see on screen. This, ironically, makes Tokyo Fist a part of the great humanist tradition in Japanese cinema, alongside Rashomon and other such movies, because, even though it uses extreme imagery to make a point, it makes the same point all the same: if we relish in jealousy, revenge and anger we will only end up destroying each other, and ultimately ourselves. Does Hollywood ever deal with violence this eloquently?

Also, as with Tetsuo, the characters in Tokyo Fist seem to live entirely in a world of their own. Many shots frame them either alone, or surrounded by an anonymous mass which fails to notice them or appreciate their presence (even as Tsuda stands in the middle of a shopping mall, his face beaten to a pulp). I can't think of another film-maker who sums up urban alienation as brilliantly as Tsukamoto does; the sheer contradiction of city life, in which a great mass of people are all huddled together at close range, and yet find themselves completely lonely and alienated from one another.

For all intents and purposes, Tokyo Fist is a movie which requires a strong stomach and an open mind. But it's a great achievement all the same.

Lest one think subject matter grounded in real life, like boxing and interpersonal drama, would temper Tsukamoto Shinya's unmistakable style of film-making, let's lay those thoughts to rest right now. We're treated to the same rapid cuts that result in a frenetic look and feel, and loose, handheld camerawork that feels informal, personal, and confrontational, and which further lends to that frenetic tenor. We absolutely get some blood and gore among other stunts and practical effects, and the quick sequences of stop-motion animation that he perfected in his famous breakthrough 'Tetsuo: The iron man,' not to mention very specific choices of lighting to help foster dark overtones. For good measure, add in an original score that often directly or indirectly echoes the harsh industrial music proliferate in the man's best known works; industrial, brutalist, or urban imagery; and enthusiastic overacting wherever it may be appropriate. 'Tokyo fist' may play in a different genre space, but Tsukamoto's stamp is all over it, even including a subtler variation on the theme of transformation that is paramount in a fair portion of his oeuvre.

With all this well in mind I can understand how the filmmaker's tendencies won't appeal to all comers, and I'm not about to sit here and say that the picture is a pure must-see. There are also small touches of homophobia scattered herein that really haven't aged well; this may have been the 90s, but folks should know better. All the same II find myself rather pleased with how good it is, and I think Tsukamoto's brand of film-making and storytelling manages to work pretty well in this instance. The root story is a suitable melodrama in which outwardly mild-mannered office worker Tsuda comes into conflict with old friend Kojima, chiefly but not exclusively over beautiful Hizuru. Layered atop this foundation are the efforts by all three characters to wildly remake themselves, and with the flourishes for which Tsukamoto is known, the resulting tableau is characterized in large part by the vibes that conventionally belong to more violent, far-flung, action-packed genres. It's an interesting blend that shifts somewhat between tones, but it all fits together surprisingly well.

I do think the writing is uneven and imperfect - maybe even ultimately a little unsophisticated, truthfully - and the storytelling could have been tightened and refined. This applies to the filmmaker's sequencing, too, which seems a smidgen disjointed. Be that as it may, the core of the feature is marvelously strong. The central narrative is compelling and satisfying, and more than it may seem at first blush; the scene writing is smart and flavorful. As Tsukamoto wears multiple hats, as he commonly does with his endeavors, his versatility is without question, including his direction and cinematography. Especially as the journeys of their characters more or less escalate in the latter half I think the cast give excellent, vibrant performances to bring their characters and the story to life, quite naturally including Tsukamoto himself, his brother Koji, and definitely co-star Fujii Kahori (among others). Terrific production design and art direction adjoin fantastic filming locations, and from costume design to gnarly special makeup and practical effects, 'Tokyo fist' looks all-around great. Further factor in good use of sound and Ishikawa Chu's swell music, and I think this is a movie that kind of grows on you.

It has some shortcomings, it's a bit garish at times, and neither the violence nor Tsukamoto's personal style will appeal to all comers. To the same point, while the sum total shares considerable kinship with the filmmaker's other works, it remains true that this is in some measure a different type of title. Nonetheless, I sat to watch with expectations that were a tad mixed, and at length I'm very pleased with how sharp it turned out to be. Strictly speaking I should maybe be viewing the whole with more criticism, yet the fact is that this flick carries itself with a vehemence, and and a ferocious energy, that helps its value to outshine its less sure-footed facets. It's the application of outrageous horror sensibilities to a premise that's fairly ordinary, and when all is said and done 'Tokyo fist' is striking and evocative in a way that makes me kind of love it. One should be well aware of Tsukamoto's proclivities before watching, and I'm not saying the film is a total revelation, but if you do have the opportunity to watch, it's unique, memorable, and invigorating, not to mention entertaining and satisfying, and I'm happy to give 'Tokyo fist' my hearty recommendation.