La Marque du tueur

Seijun Suzuki has a lot of nerve as a director, and I mean that as complimentary as it can sound. He pushes buttons without being too exploitive- he knows the genre by the back of his hand, has likely seen his share of 40s film noir and gangster pictures, and knows at least a little of the French new-wave (or rather seems to carry over a similar spirit). So he knows also, even more crucially, how to turn the genre on its head while keeping a sense of poetry to the proceedings. It's hard to pull off a sense of the poetic in a crime film, but Suzuki's camera techniques are to the quality that he can get his actors at the same level of a challenge of sorts. Branded to Kill is about deconstructing the myths of the hit-man, the qualities of emotion and subservience, of duty and sacrifice, the coldness, and the suppressed longing for death that is encompassing. And damn if it isn't a helluva lot of fun as pulp entertainment, a tale told with some strange characters and even stranger twists of fate, and loaded to the gills with sex and violence.

That last part, I might add, is important in seeing Branded to Kill in context forty years ago. Who else but Suzuki, and maybe Arthur Penn, would go for this level of bizarre violence and uncompromising sex at the time, and at the same time not turn it into some kind of B-movie spectacle? Come to think of it, the premise and essential plot is pure B-movie: a hired killer, Hanada, aka #3 (Jo Shishido, very bad-ass even as he goes crazy), is very good at his job, so good that he's able to kill #2 in a big shoot-out scene in the first twenty minutes of the film, as he escorts another gangster around. Coming back from that mission, he gets a ride from mysterious Misako (Anne Mari), who gives him a mission to kill someone for her. But it goes bad, he's kicked out of the syndicate, and now will be killed by his old bosses. This problem is broken up by two things: 1, #3 is so good, even under total stress from his girlfriend Mami trying to kill him ("We're beasts", she says to him crying her eyes out in supposed guilt), he kills all of those who are supposed to kill him; and 2, he meets killer #1- the "Phantom" killer, who will soon kill him...'soon' being the dreaded word.

Well, as 'pure' as it can be under the circumstances anyway. It's essentially the story of an assassin who has the tables turned on him, and has to step up to the challenge- will he be #1? Can there ever be any kind of #1 in the world of hired killers? The last half hour is mostly only #3 and #1 in the apartment, as they both reach for their guns at the same time and neither uses them. It becomes a game of psychological torture (not to mention nerves), which reaches a fever pitch by the time the climax at the gymnasium comes around. But around this genre story we get Suzuki's style as a director, which is startling, provocative, tawdry, and surreal, whatever one could think to call it. Over the opening credits we see a tiny light go over the names, and the first shot is a random airplane image. There's plenty of indelible images from the film- killer #2 running out of the building on fire; the uproarious, delirious moths and lines and other figures that #3 sees around him at one point; the simple sight of our hero smelling his beloved rice, his first love; Misako in close-up staring at the killer in the rain- chillingly performed by Anne Mari like she's just got out of electro-shock- telling him her hatred of men and her lack of fear for death.

But around these images Suzuki is confident at casting his torn and frayed #3 killer (Jo Shishido gives the performance of a career, with him getting better as the film goes on and he's put in more surreal circumstances), and at being a master of compositions. He and DP Kazue Nagatsuka put just the right lift of suspense and danger to scenes, like the drunken gangster taunting to be shot in the tunnel, or #3 being told he'll be killed the first time and laughing it off, or even the near sci-fi-style of shooting the sides of the buildings. There's maybe a reason, aside from the perverse attention to dark comedy and weird drama in the proceedings, that the producers decided to fire the director after seeing his finished cut: he doesn't follow the rules, or whatever the rules might be in so much practice going into the norm, for shooting a traditional gangster film. Why not just keep the camera still on the whole building as a man falls to his death from the top? Or how about as our hero is on the phone we're seeing most of what's above his head in the apartment, then shifting below? It's a risk that Suzuki takes, to make the style reflect atmosphere of the urban landscapes, on top of that of the terrors facing #3, and only once or twice looking too self-conscious. In a word, it's hip.

It's probably not surprising then that the speed and energy and form of the style feels influential to so many who skate that line between mainstream and art-house, while at the same time doesn't feel aged at all. If anything, the sex is still hot, the sudden violence still shocking (and shockingly funny), and the ending as perfect a sum-up of the devastation of the ego of violence and death, the monstrosity of it, as could be imagined. I love it, in all its subtle, crazy independent wide-screen glory, and it serves as a great introduction to Suzuki's oeuvre.

Man, why are those late 60's / early 70's criminal movies so fantastically good? I guess it must have something to do with those old saturated film stocks. If only Kodachrome would muster the courage to bring back what brought us the those classics: Dirty Harry, Bullitt, The Getaway etc.

Or then again, maybe it was just the period in which these movies were made. The hippie era did, as it would appears produced a surprisingly good number of film titles. Comparatively, Branded to Kill reminds one distinctively in style to John Boorman's film of the same year, POINT BLANK, both in choice of film stock and composition of photography, but aside from this the films are completely different. Branded to Kill tells the story of a yakuza hitman (with a penchant for fast woman and inhaling "rice steam") who seeks the desirable title of #1 gunman. But of course, it's not going to be that easy...

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.

Much has been made of how weird and off-beat Branded to Kill is. However it is important to consider it as part of Suzuki's progression through film-making. Before you can break the rules, you have to master them. Suzuki did so in several of his earlier pictures, from Underworld Beauty to Tattooed Life. And every time he was called to deliver a run of the mill yakuza flick, he infused it with his personal style. More and more he fractured the visual language of cinema every time, until he got rid of it or transformed it into a psychotic beast for Branded to Kill, revealing what lies beneath.

A plot synopsis would read something like this: Jo Shishido is killer Number #3 with ambitions of becoming Number #1. Who is Number #1? Does he even exist? That is until he's called to transport a client safely. The borders between realism and surrealism blur hopelessly at that point and what follows is a nightmarish concoction of beautiful set-pieces that lead up to his final confrontation with Number #1.

Saying that Branded to Kill is weird is an understatement. In turns fascinating, confusing, nonsensical, surrealist, psychotic, thrilling, poetic, nightmarish, confusing, tiring, mind-numbing and exhilarating, it defies description as much as it defies sense. The boundaries of time, space and logic are blurred and all you can do is experience the ride. It doesn't try to make much sense and apparently Suzuki made it up as he went along. The result was to be fired by Nikkatsu Studios for delivering a picture that "made no sense". I don't blame them really. Studios are businesses and Branded to Kill is not a movie with massive appeal. Ahead of its time in that aspect.

Filmed in beautiful black and white, with a languid jazzy score and a film-noir ambiance, Branded to Kill will certainly appeal to people with strange tastes. Don't go in expecting a yakuza action flick (although there are several gunfights and enough action to go along) or you'll be sorely disappointed. As an indication of the uncharted territories Branded to Kill's treads, I'll guesstimate that fans of Eraserhead-era Lynch, Koji Wakamatsu and Singapore Sling's style will appreciate it. I can't say "like it", because ultimately that's between the viewer and Branded to Kill to sort. Either way, it has to be experienced at least once. Just sit back and let the surreal absurdity of it all wash over you...

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.