Les affranchis de Shinjuku

Shinjuku Triad Society, albeit from perfect, is a fiercely compelling film for what it tries to depict in its uber-conventional realm. It's a yakuza/triad picture, involving cops versus Japanese &/or Chinese gangsters (mostly Chinese, as the title suggests), but already even in his first technical 'debut', Takashi Miike is already establishing many aspects to films that he would make from here-on in. Social issues like black market trading of precious goods, in this case human organs usually from children; nostalgia for childhood and one's roots, which was especially prevalent in Dead or Alive 2; thumbing-of-the-nose at taboos like gay sex and (satirical) rape/violence towards women; blood-curdling violence. It's certainly not as surreal as some of Miike's most recent films, but this is expected as he's trying out things that he's just starting to learn, following a track record of straight to video programmers. It's got all of those qualities, and it's also, like the films that would follow from it, equally savage and heartfelt, crazy (in spots) and sardonic in its drama, and solid for genre fans.

The story concerns two brothers, one a Chinese orphan raised in Japan, Tatsuhito Kiriya (Kippei Shiina, pretty decent as a Eastwood-esquire anti-hero/hero), who's become a detective, and another, who's become a gangster, or a would-be one. The main arch likely takeover gang comes from Wang (a definite pun on what the gang represents during its spare-time, played by Tomorowo Taguchi as a typical wacko with real terror in his eyes), and his partner Karino (Takeshi Caesar, who's threatening even when just repeating a commandment over and over to a woman who's just had her eye plugged out following a sour deal), who are the ruthless kind to pop up almost organically in a Miike movie. There's some intrigue involving the organ-trading scheme with the gangsters, which Kiriya almost becomes a victim of, and the gang's penchant for gay sex- at least with one little puppet of sorts who does whatever the main gangsters want. It all leads up to vengeance and redemption, qualities that Miike and his writer are trying to emulate from Shakespeare (hence the Macbeth bit with Wang washing his bloody hangs over and over after some gay sex saying "it won't come off").

If it doesn't add up to the same emotional level of impact that a great Shakespeare play would have, it's par for the course of a film like this. Miike's goals are met, though just met, in his low-scale ambitions: a gangster picture with some added levels of harsh familial trouble (the main tension between the brothers comes out of profession and duty to parents), notes on the crueler aspects of underworld crime, and what the realm of unrepentant sex, with both sexes, brings out psychologically in the characters. At the same time, Shinjuku Triad Society also contains more than a few moments of classic biting black-comedy from the Miike oeuvre. Some of it just has to be taken with a grain of salt for what the director does in his outrageousness, like the bit at the beginning with the chair smashing over the face, or the randomness of the "interrogation" as it goes into a very twisted area. There's even a laugh-out-loud line from the young sex-slave after finishing an act on one of the bosses: "Thank you, Mr. Weeny-Burger." Miike and his writer don't have enough here to make the film a full-on dark comedy like Ichi or, of course, Visitor Q, but there's enough to bring some appropriate levity to the darker aspects to the story and characters.

As the first entry of the "Black Society" trilogy, as it's called, I was quite impressed, and it's a fine quasi-calling card from one of the craziest new artists in contemporary cinema.

This movie is the first of Miikes triad society trilogy, and the trilogy kicks of to a great start. The movies in the trilogy are only connected thematically, and these themes are actually apparent in all his films, if you look close enough. Shinjuku Triad Society is about a cop trying to prevent his kid brother from getting too involved with a rather extreme gang of outsiders, struggling their way to the top of Tokyos yakuza. The kid brother is a lawyer, and the triad gang is becoming increasingly in need of one, as the movie progresses. The movie takes place in a very harsh environment, and is therefore pretty violent and tough. Miike has done worse, but since this is a serious movie it hits you very hard. As usual there is also a lot of perverted sex, mostly homosexual in this one. The movie is in many ways a typical gangster movie, but with a great drive and true grittiness. If you've only seen Miikes far-out movies (Ichi the killer, Fudoh etc.) this is worth checking out since it is sort of a compromise between his aggressive over-the-top style displayed in those movies and his more serious side, as seen in the other films of the trilogy. And as always with Miike, there are at least two scenes in this that you'll NEVER forget (see it and figure out which ones for yourself).

8/10

The world of Takashi Miike's cinema is an abstract and ever conflicting one; moving from moments of gritty realism, character depth and almost tranquil beauty, to jarring elements of outlandish violence, tongue-in-cheek humour and outrageous visual exaggeration. This continual juxtaposition of tone can be problematic for some viewers, as the film announces itself as a serious, worthy crime picture, only to then undercut this notion with a flash-cut of a forensic detective offering peace signs as he poses with a severed head. This continual approach of more serious, dramatic moments undermined or subverted by remnants of mocking humour is emblematic of Miike's work, and can be seen in many of his greatest films, such as Ley Lines (1999), Dead or Alive 2: Birds (2000) and the masterpiece Visitor Q (2001). It's an approach to cinema that seems deliberately intended to challenge the preconceptions of an audience and to provoke an immediate reaction (often through shock), which can be further witnessed in the director's often bold disregard for the notions of genre convention or traditional narrative design.

With Shinjuku Triad Society (1995) we see many of these ideas and characteristics in their earliest stages of consideration, with the film in some respects establishing Miike for the first time as a serious filmmaker of bold intent and critical worth. Though it lacks the obvious finesse and sterling confidence of his later work, it is, nonetheless, an important film, worthy of repeated viewings and serious critical analysis. As ever with the director, the film focuses on elements of the criminal underworld, here the "black society" of downtown Shinjuku, with loyalty, betrayal, honour and responsibility all driving the plot forward towards a violent and confrontational finale. We also have the inclusion of one of Miike's favourite dramatic motifs, the idea of the outcast within society, with the combining influence of geographical displacement and the search for somewhere to belong - often manifested in the representation of family - becoming central to the duality of the relationship between both criminal and cop. These themes would be further defined in the two subsequent films that would eventual come to form the backbone of this loose, thematic trilogy; with the themes of Shinjuku Triad Society leading off into Rainy Dog (1997) and the aforementioned Ley Lines.

The film could also be seen as a run through for the more elaborate and post-modern experimentation of the original Dead or Alive (1999), with the cop vs. criminal aspect of the story being the catalyst for the drama, despite the apparent fact that both of these particular characters are as flawed and viciously corrupt as one another. Once again with Miike we have a series of vague characterisations that suggest a background and personality through scenarios and brief, enigmatic images; for example, the quick cut of the small boy sat melancholy in the yard of a low-rent tenement that we see right near the beginning of the film - establishing the themes behind the story on an entirely cryptic and puzzling note - which is repeated again towards the end of the film to offer an implied sense of closure. This will no doubt prove problematic for some viewers, who demand closure or a character that we can root for and identify with, but as ever, Miike is unconcerned with such routine presentations and instead gives us two warring characters that are both morally repugnant, yet ultimately sympathetic, almost in equal measures.

The tone and presentation of the film is provocative throughout, with Miike underlining the violence of the world in which the film plays out by abstracting it to near comic-book like levels of excess. It's never as bold or as farcical as something like Ichi the Killer (2001), though we can clearly see an attempt on the part of the director to establish an attitude and approach that undercuts the grittier elements of drama to instead present something almost otherworldly (again, this was done more successfully in the underrated Ley Lines). Nonetheless, it can be seen as another example of Miike's subversive approach to cinema, disarming us through shock scenes and outré moments of pitch-black comedy that seem almost purposely out of place within the world of gang war and routine police investigations. It's the kind of film in which scenes of lengthy dialog discussion give way to scenes of gay rape, gunplay and a subplot involving Taiwanese orphans and organ transplants, where the main villain is an eye-gouging, homosexual exhibitionist and the main representation of the law thinks nothing about raping a prostitute or smashing her in the face with a steel chair.

Certainly, it won't please everyone - with the disregard for logic and convention going against our preconceptions of this kind of genre - though again, the film is ultimately beyond such notions. Despite the gangland theatricality and obvious crime-thriller aspects of the plot, Shinjuku Triad Society has deeper themes expressed within the odd similarities between the wayward police officer and the perverted criminal that goes back to the ideas of loneliness, alienation and the longing to fit in. The film ends on a sad note, leaving unanswered questions about the fate of the characters or the actions that led to the climactic revelation, but with the clear implication that the thing we most desire is always slightly out of reach. It may not be as polished or as successful as some of the director's other films - with the obvious low-budget and perhaps lack of experience clear within some elements of the script - nonetheless, this is one of Miike's most interesting and thought-provoking films, made all the more worthwhile by the two excellent central performances from Kippei Shiina and Tomorowo Taguchi.

Shinjuku is a bizarre film even by Miike's standards. I'm still undecided about whether I like this film or not and I'm not quite sure where to begin describing this film. In layman's terms it's a film about two brothers, one's a police officer (Kiriya) the other is a lawyer (Yoshihito) working for the mafia. During the course of the film a war breaks out between the Chinese and Japanese gangs, and it's down to Kiriya to keep his younger brother safe from the fallout.

Shinjuku is one of Miike's early projects and was the first one to get him noticed, whether that's from the sheer shock factor or genuine talent I don't know. The film has a certain low budget aesthetic that works really well. The film also has a genuine sense of grit and nihilism to it. The characters are all horrible, and they do horrific things to each other. From scenes where the police interrogate their suspects by anally raping them, to the mafia harvesting organs from children there are no good guys in this film, only shades of grey.

The film also tries to deal with a wide range of taboo topics, most notably having a homoerotic undertone which at times felt out of place, and only there to serve as shock value. Over-all there are some interesting aspects to the film. I liked the main story and the juxtaposition between the two brothers, despite it not being very original. Shinjuku had moments of brilliance but for the most part I didn't buy into what Miike was going for.

Amidst a Chinese and Japanese mafia war, a lawyer for the Chinese mob finds a rift forming between him and his corrupt police officer brother. Welcome to the "black society", the underworld that exists just beyond the periphery of our vision.

In this world, many of the characters have a grey, ambiguous morality, and (in the words of Tom Mes) "nobody does what you expect them to do." In this sense, the film is not terribly far removed from the classic noir with its gritty scenarios and anti-heroes. Of course, here it goes in directions never before considered.

The ethnic / nationality aspect is fascinating, even if not fully comprehensible to an American audience. We can understand the ancient divide between China and Japan, and appreciate how this battle is now playing out between the Triads and yakuza. But the use of a character half-Japanese, half-Chinese is brilliant. Americans who do not understand the languages or customs may miss the point, but for their culture it is no different than how we once thought of the "mulatto" -- rejected by both black and white cultures.

Sight & Sound noted the film was similar to the gangster films of Kinji Fukasaku, while noting that it still contained "scenes such as the one where sodomy is used as a police interrogation technique bear Miike's unmistakable signature." (Interestingly, neither Miike nor Fukasaku are primarily known for their gangster films -- Fukasaku is connected best to "Tora! Tora! Tora!" and "Battle Royale".)

The film is one of the earliest examples of Miike's use of extreme violence. We have decapitated heads, eyes ripped from their sockets, and the aforementioned sodomy. The film also has some unsettling sexual aspects. Not quite on par with Miike's "Visitor Q", but what is?

Also worth noting is the soundtrack, which often sound like more 1980s synth than 1990s techno. Was this a style choice, or was Japan in a different musical era than the United States in 1995? Interestingly, this film is composer Atorie Shira's only credit. Another "anachronism" is a trunk shot very reminiscent of "Reservoir Dogs" (1992). Coincidence? It's no secret that Tarantino borrows from his favorite films, but was Miike borrowing from Tarantino?

Arrow Video has released the film as part of their Black Society Blu-ray box set, complete with an all-new audio commentary from Miike expert Tom Mes, the author of "Agitator". This is actually the second Mes commentary for the film, so anyone who has an old DVD can now hear him twice. (Interestingly, he feels this film has a "gothic element", which is not something that immediately comes to mind when you are talking about Miike.)