Jingi no hakaba

Graveyard of Honor is a fantastic entry into the yakuza genre or, for that matter, the gangster genre in general. However, more so than many of its counterparts, it is an excellent Brechtian character study. Filmed in a "mockumentary" style, Graveyard of Honor breaks up its action and storytelling relatively often with bits of narration, setting the events of the film in their period context and transitioning over long gaps in time.

A reviewer once equated this film to the "blacksploitation" films of the same period: this betrayed the reviewer's ignorance to the genre. The Japanese gangster film is far more presentational than its western counterparts. From the bright, red, paint-like blood to the strict characterizations and operatic emotions, Graveyard of Honor and other films like it are a sort of midway point between Kabuki theater and French nihilism. It is an intriguing genre, and one that internationally acclaimed director Kinji Fukasaku uses brilliantly to pose intriguing questions and point out crucial problems in the Japanese mindset of the time.

To truly appreciate his 1970s yakuza films, it helps to have knowledge of the history leading up o that time from the end of World War II. Watching Graveyard of Honor on its own will certainly be an entertaining experience, but anyone perplexed or intrigued by the film should do research on other films of the period, their cultural context, and their societal implications. Fukasaku was a groundbreaking director, and it's a shame that his brilliance could be lost in the cultural gap.

As filmmaker Fukasaku Kinji was coming fresh off the success of the 'Battles without honor or humanity' series of the previous few years, it's easy to see the kinship this shares with those works. It's practically a sister film with its chaotic violence, handheld cameras, and considerable use of identifying text and narration, and of course the major focus on yakuza. I dare say 'Graveyard of honor' is even more upfront about the nastiness of the subject matter, though, as foremost figure Ishikawa Rikio is depicted as an especially vicious brute. Even amidst the turmoil of the post-war years in Japan this seems particularly ugly with its misogyny, sexual assault, xenophobia, and significant violence, and Ishikawa's ambitions are fraught with hot-headed impulsiveness. Yet Fukasaku had a very definite sense of style, and in working alongside screenwriter Kamoi Tatsuhiko he fashioned a compelling, undeniably flavorful story of gangland activity and the journey of one specific yakuza. I don't know if "enjoyable" is quite the right word, but it's an engrossing and satisfying viewing experience.

One doesn't need to read of the production history to understand the demands Fukasaku placed on his cast and crew with his direction, and the result is an overarching sense of severe aggressiveness. It's seen not just in the hard-boiled, physically intensive acting, or the stunts, effects, and choreography, but even in Nakazawa Hanjiro's dynamic, vivacious, and often somewhat free-wheeling cinematography. Where a softer tone is occasionally employed the proceedings feel like more of a measured crime drama (e.g. 'The godfather,' for an obvious frame of reference), but this is not the dominant vibe as the violence of the seedy underworld endures, if not expands around intemperate Ishikawa. All along the way the picture unquestionably benefits from the grainy production values of the mid-70s, and the production design and art direction are rich and vibrant even as they commonly portend both the relative refinement to which yakuza aspire, and the grit and filth of the streets. Say what one will otherwise, the costume design, hair, and makeup are also consistently sharp.

Even as it treads a familiar, inevitable path, Ishikawa's trajectory is low-key fascinating, and every beat, scene, surrounding character, and piece of dialogue is built to accentuate the stark vitality of the tawdry saga. Among the actors, star Watari Tetsuya and Takigawa Yumi notably stand out with their ranged performances as troubled Ishikawa and beleaguered Chieko. I'm also a big fan of Tsushima Toshiaki's original music, a score of themes that are alternately pensive and heavily dramatic as handily befits the progression of the protagonist's life and criminal career, from fierce and bold to dour and tragic. All told I wonder if this feature doesn't actually count among Fukasaku's best, and certainly ranking highly in the very least, including in comparison to the noted franchise of the prior few years. The man's oeuvre covered a wide spectrum, and while not all his works are equal, at his best he absolutely carved out some fabulously absorbing classics that walk a line between bewitching narrative fiction, sheer exploitation, and cinematic artistry. I'm incredibly pleased with how good 'Graveyard of honor' is, and in all honesty it quite exceeded my expectations.

From Ishikawa's early aspirations and the accompanying wanton bloodshed, to his sullen decline and downfall, the mood herein varies more than I anticipated, and the finished product is all the better for the fact of it. By the nature of the material it won't appeal to all comers, yet those who are receptive to the genre will surely find much to love herein, and the filmmaker can almost always be relied upon for a quality movie. I'd stop short of saying this wholly demands viewership, but through every turn 'Graveyard of honor' is terrific and rather captivating, and I'm glad to give it my high recommendation.

Don't be misled. GRAVEYARD OF HONOR is not your typical Japanese Yakuza film. This genre most often depicts a battle between Good and Evil, or at the very least, the awareness of this struggle. Kinji Fukasaku, director of GRAVEYARD OF HONOR, has created a portrait of a character who is not cognizant of a single redeemable quality. Tetsuya Watari plays Rikio Ishikawa who was a real figure within the Japanese underworld in the years immediately following WWII. This man was clearly psychotic and was not to be restrained or regulated either by the police or leaders within his Yakuza brotherhood. Fresh out of jail, and then banished for attacking his own clan leader, he is sent to Osaka where he acquires a heroin habit. And, all along this downward slide, it is nearly impossible to generate any sympathy whatsoever for this reprehensible character. Fukasaku seems to suggest that US occupying forces were in some ways complicit in the corruption of post WWII Japan. As the US attempted to bolster Japanese self rule, it allowed the Yakuza's fortunes to prosper in phony democratic elections. However, in no way does this allow the viewer to empathize with the sadistically violent outbursts of Rikio Ishikawa. Kinji Fukasaku has crafted a film in which we watch as a malevolent anti-hero voraciously embraces the forces of darkness without a backwards glance.

Definitely has similarities to Fukasaku's Yakuza Papers series (not that there's anything wrong with that!) in terms of pacing and visuals. It is, however, a little easier to follow, thanks to honing in on one main protagonist all the way through, and not having as many important supporting characters.

Most challenging here is that the protagonist does some really terrible things, even by the standards of crime film protagonists. He's not supposed to be likeable of course, but the film arguably does go a little further than it needs to when it comes to how he treats some female characters.

Other complaints might be some occasional weird, jarring edits, and the colour filters - while keeping things varied - didn't always seem to be purposeful? But that might just be me.

So there are problems, but the acting is good, as is everything that works in the Yakuza Papers series, so Graveyard of Honor is easy to recommend to any fans of that series, or Yakuza movies like them.

Am looking forward to watching Miike's remake, too. I hope there's a good reason for it being 40 minutes longer than this one, too.

It's an unusual Yakusa picture, according some Fukasaku's most closest work friends interviewed on bonus material explained that Rikio Schikawa a wild persona portrayed by Tetsuya Watari is meaning the compassion whereby Fukasaku felt by those losers in the society, thus the story spans since his tender years just narrated by someone until post WWII when the acting really starts properly, exposing a kind of mad dog criminal character entering in a Yakusa gang making great damages whatever he goes, thus has been punished by banishment for ten years in agreement of Yakusa's law, however he dares go back in few years.

Another interesting point is about the fully chaos carried out there by lost the war, followed by American military intervention which wasn't any novelty, although countless people from nearby countries raided the Japanese ground as reprisals over the fierce and ruthless deployed by Japanese Army on previous years on the continent, also inserting those drugs displayed on story, brought massively aftermaths the war and all black market over an economy in ramshackle.

Aside some overacted implied by Kenji Fukasaku on the narrative, the picture in fully interesting by a character study, also understanding how Japan overcame those chaotic environment post WWII, where the Yakusa's mobsters took the political power in many territory thru "good looking civilians" a true achievement by the underrated master Kenji Fikasaku.

Thanks for reading.

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First watch: 2025 / How many: 1 / Source: DVD / Rating: 8.