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.

Graveyard of Honor is one of the best and most influential Japanese gangster movies ever made. If it had been more popular abroad, this movie might have the same reputation as The Godfather, Once Upon a Time in America and The Untouchables have today. This film was later on re-imagined by legendary Japanese director Miike Takashi.

The original movie by Fukasaku Kinji is an adaptation of Goro Fujita's novel of the same title and partially based upon real-life gangster Ishikawa Rikio. The film's antagonist starts as an ambitious gangster who assaults and steals money from numerous families but is unfit to be a permanent member of any family due to to his unconventional and violent behaviour. Things spiral out of control when the antagonist assaults the boss of his current family and is banished from Tokyo for ten years. The gangster spends some time in prison before moving to Osaka and becoming a drug addict that hangs around with unreliable junkies and sick prostitutes. He quickly returns to Tokyo and brutally clashes with the only friend he had left who has become an influential gangster boss. The antagonist is now hunted down by two gangster families and the police as he fights for survival while trying to organize some changes in his life.

There are many brutal Japanese gangster movies released between the late sixties and late seventies but Graveyard of Honor stands out for multiple reasons. The movie features numerous interesting characters such as the sick prostitute who accompanies the antagonist or his estranged friend that he met in prison. The movie has many violent action scenes that have aged surprisingly well but also some quiet dramatic parts that emotionally portray the downfall of the ambitious antagonist. The cinematography is absolutely outstanding with parts of the movie filmed in black and white as well as in sepia to introduce changes and flashbacks that give the final result an experimental mockumentary style. Despite these unconventional elements, the movie is coherent, entertaining and fluid from start to finish.

To keep it short, anyone who likes gangster movies should know, buy and appreciate Graveyard of Honor. The movie has recently been reissued in a boxed set with Miike Takashi's re-imagined version by Arrow Films. This boxed set is a little bit expensive but crafted with much care and certainly worth every single penny.

The bittersweet irony of Fukasaku was that he was a talented man that only became known to us through his last film. So it's enthralling to discover small gems like this when in the West we were praising Scorsese for his grittiness.

It helps to know a bit about this type, the yakuza film. Fukasaku's The Yakuza Papers series offer all the introduction you're going to need.

If you are acquainted this will come as a pleasant surprise. The plot is nowhere near as convoluted, the barrage of constant name-dropping that made the former occasionally hard to follow is absent. Instead we get the distilled energy, with hand-held cameras peering from the most improbable angles, filming the numerous fights not from a distance but in the middle of the swirl. We get stills, narration, clever use of sepia, fast forwards and so on, years before Tarantino made it cool.

Yet what sets Graveyard of Honour apart from other yakuza movies is the protagonist. He's not the typical rags to riches and back figure seen in gangster movies. He doesn't hit the good time before falling down, he's not Tony Montana. No, it's all down-hill for him; a self-destructive yakuza without a care in the world who brings about his own misery and challenges his bad karma at every corner. His nihilistic stare reminded me of Ryonosuke Tsukue from Sword of Doom.

Strongly recommended for crime drama fans.

Kinji Fukasaku's mid-70s faux-biopic of a sociopath Yakuza gangster in late-40s Japan is certainly an absorbing experience, even if it never quite manages to immerse the viewer entirely in the nihilism of the world in which Tetsuya Watari's Rikio Ishikawa exists. It's difficult really to determine whether Fukasaku is trying to attract or repulse us here and, for me, this is the film's main weakness. Ishikawa has no redeeming features: he's simply a crude, boorish rapist and murderer who invokes unexplainable loyalty in those around him. There is some amusement to be found in the bewilderment of Ishikawa's Yakuza superiors, who don't seem to know quite what to do with the loose cannon in their midst (presumably something in the Yakuza code prevents them from simply taking him into a back alley and shooting him like a dog) but, for all its kinetic energy and undeniable style Graveyard of Honour mostly fails to fascinate, and fascinate it must – the way a caterpillar squirming on the end of a pin fascinates – if it is to hold an audience who can feel little or no connection with its main character.

Despite these criticisms, the film is never dull. Fukasaku is an unsurpassable director, completely confident of his skills, totally focused, and unafraid to adopt subjects and styles that must have seemed out of the ordinary at the time. It's to his credit that most of the techniques he uses in this film are still widely used today – especially by US gangster flicks. Fukasaku fills the screen with people in this one, countless people, hundreds of them, conveying the raucous and claustrophobic overcrowding of a country recovering from a bruising war. And while attention to period detail is perhaps not this film's strong point, this shortcoming is overcome by good use of sepia tones to reinforce the sense of history.

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.