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Imamura Shohei is not, perhaps, if one has seen films like Vengeance Is Mine, Intentions Of Murder, Insect Woman or Karayuki-San, the first choice one might imagine to have made such a richly comedic masterpiece of Japanese (hyper-)nationalist satire as this. Yet, the above films are not only helpful, but darn near essential viewing in order to grasp the full flavour of what Imamura has made out of his (and Ogata's) Quixote figure, the Holy Fool who is so blindly faithful to his nation and his 'great cause', and who commits deeds for them that should, if properly viewed, elicit all of profound horror, chaotic laughter and even tearful sympathetic empathy. For if one is unaware of the bitter truths of the Japanese woman of the Meiji era unwittingly sold into prostitution by their families, as documented in Karayuki-San, then an entire layer of the film is lost in the idea of a fictional man who could have, in Imamura's vision, founded such a system in the course of no less than a dream of the great glory of his country.

Yet, this is not to say that the film cannot be enjoyed without such a background. The satire is sharp, yet the comedy itself is broad and the arc of Ogata's Muraoka is one of the most complete and all-encompassingly humanist character portrayals in all Japanese film. Imamura is used to portraying men as scoundrels, as victimisers, murderers, petty thieves and calculating demons; Muraoka is all of these things and yet none of them. He cannot be defined by any single characteristic any more than any non-fictional being could; yet, he can stand alone or for the entirety of Japanese culture, as well as for any other great figure in Imamura's work (and, dare I say it, either male or female). The characters with whom he interacts, too, are at turns majestic and base, glorious and vainglorious, realistic and archetypal, and likewise acted just as well, from the indelible figure of Muraoka's Dulcinea, Shiho (a name that seems to bear a profound resemblance to Imamura's own), a part just as well-portrayed as Ogata's, to every third-rate would-be pimp and whore they come in contact (and, my heavens, there are a lot of them!) over the span of some forty-odd (very odd, indeed) years in the brothels, mansions, ships and huts of the film.

Whoever you are reading this, you are doing yourself a disservice in not seeing this film. This is, I have no doubt, one of the as-yet-undiscovered-masterpieces of world cinema, a testament to the ability of film to provide insights which no other media can provide as succinctly and as tellingly as a pristine performance within a perfect story told by an incomparable storyteller. In the twenty years since Zegen, I cannot think of a film so passionately yet simply told, so worthy of praise. It is an echo of Cervantes and of Welles, the author and greatest interpreted of the Don Quixote tale, and deserving of rank amongst them as great filmic literature.

—Marc-David Jacobs

"This is a fight fan. Fan: short for fanatic" (first lines).

While Stanley Kubrick was working for Look Magazine back in the late '40s and early '50s, he came across a photo shoot of a boxing match involving a Walter Cartier. The article, entitled "Prizefighter," was published January 18th, 1949. A year later, Kubrick contacted Cartier, asking him if he would like to be in a short documentary for the declining RKO-Pathé. Cartier agreed, and Kubrick began, in 1950, with what would become his first film ever.

The story itself is told in three parts (much like the later Full Metal Jacket [1987]), which take up about 5 minutes apiece. The dialogue, spoken by veteran newsman Douglas Edwards, is very noir (example: "It's a living. For some, not much of a living.") The first part regards boxing and the fan. It portrays the walks of life boxing comes from. It ends when Natt Fleischer, a boxing historian, is shown looking through a book of boxing statistics. Kubrick's photojournalistic upbringing is showcased here; the framing of the book is done in a nice, storytelling style. Kubrick obviously knows what he's doing here. We then spotlight one particular boxer in this book: Walter Cartier. The second and third parts are dedicated to a single day in his life: the day of a middleweight fight (April 17th, 1950). The second part is his life leading up to the fight (from 6:00 A.M. to the arrival at the arena at 8:00 P.M.) It's a nice sequencing of events, beginning with a shot of a program attached to a pole advertising the fight (a shot we will see again in Killer's Kiss [1955]) and then showing Walter himself. It shows him waking up, going to communion ("in case something should go wrong tonight,") eating breakfast, undergoing his health examination, playing with his dog. As the fight draws near, we see the "long last look in the mirror" as Walter examines his face. The sequence will be perfectly transcribed to Killer's Kiss (1955) in a few years. The third part (from 8:00 P.M. to the fight at 10:00 P.M.), begins when Walter arrives at Laurel Gardens. The main focus is on the "big wait." We see the transformation Walter undergoes from normal man to fighting machine. We see his opponent, Bobby James, for a few seconds. When Walter finally goes to the ring, we reach the real action of the short. The fight (which is less than a round and was shot live) is brutal, and seems to be echoed repeatedly in Scorsese's Raging Bull (1980). If you look closely during the fight, you can see men standing at ringside with cameras. These are most likely Kubrick and assistant director Alexander Singer (who was later assistant producer for The Killing [1956]). As the fight reaches the KO, the camera focuses on crowd reaction (one shot is of Singer's fiancée, for whom Kubrick did wedding photography). When the fight is over, and all is said and done, the 16-minute short concludes with "For him, it's the end of a working day." Music swells, the end.

Everything that could go well about this film did. The story is excellently planned out, the narration is full of emotion and energy, the music is terrific (Gerald Fried, who met Kubrick through Singer, would go on to do the music for Kubrick's first four feature films) and Cartier and entourage are people with whom one can connect (although none of them, excepting the ring announcer, has a single line of dialogue). I have seen this film multiple times, and I plan on seeing it many, many more. I recommend this film to any fan of boxing, documentaries and expecially hardcore Kubrick fans (that is, if you can get your hands on it). This films gets a 10 out of 10.

With 3 short films and a feature (Fear And Desire [1953]) under his belt, none of which had received any notice (in fact, Kubrick bought up all of the existing prints of Fear And Desire, because he thought it was poorly done [not to mention that it was being billed as a sexploitation film]), Kubrick decided to try out something new. He decided to go with Film-Noir.

The film is filled with Kubrick trademarks through and through. He uses boxing (which was the subject of his very first short Day of the Fight [1951]), zooming techniques, flashbacks (also used in his next film The Killing [1956]) and narration. The cinematography is exquisite, as usual, with many shots (particularly in the boxing studio and the train station) being backlit with a soft, grey light to give it a disconnected, almost rear-screen-projection feel. However, it is obvious that this is the early, naive Kubrick at work here. The entire movie, like Fear And Desire, is post-dubbed (much like a Fellini film), with all of the sound effects being done over by a meticulous Kubrick. And, of course, the Film-Noir. Davey Gordon (played to perfection by Jamie Smith) is the almost-stereotypical Noir anti-hero, with Irene Kane (aka journalist Chris Chase) as his anti-heroine. Frank Silvera, who had the lead role in Fear And Desire, is the slimy villain, whom you actually want to die (a good sign [for a villain]).

This Kubrick film can most be compared to 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) or Barry Lyndon (1975), in that, once you get past a slow beginning, the end is absolutely riveting. Kubrick knows that he wants to grab his audience, and he does so with perfection. Some of it is padded (the ballet sequence is not particular interest), but the rest it great, from the initial boxing sequence to the chase scene at the end. If you're a fan of Kubrick, see it. If you're a fan of great cinema, see it. If you're a fan of Film-Noir, see it (but take it with a pinch of salt). If you're none of these things, see it, and you will be.