Hana-bi - Fiori di fuoco

'Hana-bi' is one of the most impressive movies I've seen in the last ten years. Writer/director/star Beat Takeshi (Takeshi Kitano) is best known in Japan as a comedian and TV personality, so this movie is even more astonishing to outsiders like myself. Takeshi has a very laconic and charismatic screen presence, and is no slouch as a director either. It's difficult to describe the feel of this movie, and its poetic use of violence. Peckinpah's brilliant and misunderstood 'Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia' comes to mind, as does Cassavetes' 'The Killing Of A Chinese Bookie', Ferrara's 'King Of New York' and 'Bad Lieutenant'. 'Hana-bi' reminds me of those movies but Takeshi adds his own unique voice to the material. I was knocked out by it, and I cannot recommend it highly enough to movie fans who are fascinated by the relationship between art and violence. I don't think calling this movie a masterpiece is an exaggeration. Absolutely essential viewing!

It took at least three repeat viewings of this film before I felt I was ready to review it here on IMDB. The first time I played the DVD I felt a strange sense of detachment as I tried to absorb what had been played out before me.

Kitano plays a detective with huge burdens on his shoulders. His wife, Miyuki) is dying from cancer, a trusted partner & friend (Horibe) is in a wheelchair with nothing to occupy his mind other than to paint landscapes & think about suicide now that his wife & family have deserted him. And to cap it all during an undercover operation headed by Kitano a young detective (Tanaka) is mortally shot & killed because of a blunder on Kitano's part.

Having been subsequently kicked out of the policeforce, Kitano has to cope not only with the loss his job (and income) but to come to terms with his guilt regarding the dead detective, Tanaka, his emotional feelings & absent love for Miyuki as she sees out her last few weeks. And finally, Kitano has a great deal of sympathy & loyalty to his former partner & friend crippled in a wheelchair.

In typical Kitano fashion he decides to rob a bank, pay off his debts to the local Yakuza warlords and spend the rest of the money on his crippled friend, Horibe; Tanaka's young widow and Kitano's dying wife.

Being a big fan of Kitano I wasn't disappointed by the style of the movie. His directional trademarks are visible through most of his films: flowers, beach scenes, picturesque landscapes, beautiful & haunting music (by the ever dependable Jo Hisaishi); face-to-camera shots and of course a sense of helplessness & defeatism within the lead actors themselves.

But what I wasn't quite prepared for was the melodrama & pathos the film revealed to me. Unlike most of his other "gangster/police" movies such as Brother, Sonatine & Violent Cop, the violence seems secondary to the moving, sometimes harrowing scenes of Kitano & Miyuki holidaying together, trying to relive some of their past love & passion for each but only to find there is nothing but loss & grief.

Kitano shows a great range of emotions in this film: from being a tough & very unforgiving man with his dealings with the Yakuza (the violence is sharp, sudden & very graphic). While at other times he is a man totally lost in a world of sorrow & pity, a man who finds it hard to grieve, to own up to his mistakes & guilt, a man who only now realises how much he will miss his wife after spending so many years staying away & not appreciating her needs whilst doing his job in the police.

The ending is absolutely gut-wrenching, but to be honest it was of no real surprise since there are similar outcomes in most of Kitano's films, especially Violent Cop & Sonatine.

The cinematography is absolutely outstanding, coupled with the haunting score of Jo Hisaishi (who also did the score for my favourite Kitano film, Sonatine). Kitano's direction is also beautifully paced with very tight editing & not a single shot is wasted.

The acting as well, is top drawer. Nothing needs to be said about Kitano's performance because it is that good. But the support from Kayoko Kishimoto (Miyuki), Ren Osugi (Horibe) & Yûko Daike (Tanaka's widow) is truly excellent and never weighs the movie down with too much manufactured & false melodrama so typical of Hollywood (especially movies starring Robin Williams).

As I said at the beginning of this review I had to see this film at least three times before I felt compelled to write about it, such is the power & strength within this film. Kitano's humanity is very redeeming & reveals to our Western eyes the true values of Japanese tradition & family relationships, especially with regards loyalty, friendship, love & coming to terms with one's guilt.

I recommend this film to anyone who takes an interest in movies of this kind. It may appear to drag at times, and some of the shots seems uneven & redundant on first viewing. But give it a chance because after about the second or third view more & more of the film's inner strengths will brim to the surface leaving you aghast & begging for more.

*****/*****

It was frustrating at first- I couldn't work out what the plot was, wasn't really caring for the characters, and didn't know whether it was in non-chronological order or not. At a point, I unconsciously stopped worrying about those things, and started to enjoy it more. It felt less about having a conventional narrative and more about simply evoking some powerful- yet sorta hard to describe- emotions. The visuals are largely great and go a long way in making the film oddly beautiful and hypnotic, and the musical score is outstanding. I could see myself really liking this on a rewatch at some point, when I know what I'm in for, and therefore aware of the best mood to experience such a film in.

There are two challenges in building a life with the help of art.

The first challenge is the matter of finding good art, sorting it out from background noise. Good art is a communication from a transcendent place through a person or group with the skills to deliver it coherently. This is rare enough. All good craftsmen think they are artists and sell themselves that way.

This film is a work of art. Yes, quirky. Yes, some elements are clumsy. He has some paintings he wants us to see, so he shoehorns in a suicidal painter. He needs a suicidal painter, so he...

But we tolerate these misfits because the nature of the story follows the Japanese gangster movie convention of being a bunch of borrowed quotes from elsewhere. Borrowing these from Takeshi's artistic world is as fair as from the pop vocabulary. All these projects reference the outside.

So this is good art. It resonates. I recommend you look at it.

But the second challenge with art is deciding how to relate to it, to use it to build your mind, to work and extend your imagination. You are what you eat artistically. I cannot eat this.

No, it is not the violence. Violence in film is merely cinematic tension, to be used like smoke. It is the world that matters. Art is a gateway to a world and you have to be disposed to the target: can you use it? Will it help?

What's wrong here is that this the flip side of noir. Noir defines a world of random pain, animated by some conspiracy between the viewer and a disembodied fate. But it comes from an intent of humorous exploration, capricious hazard but hazard for mischief, not deliberate pain. Its the deliberate pain we get here, the incessant grinding of the human spirit, and incidentally some valiant tolerance, but only incidentally.

If I clove this into my mind, I would be another half step closer to suicide myself. So watch it... from a distance.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

A slow burning movie, full of brooding atmosphere, lots of fierce stares and minimal dialogue. Lots of violence mainly aimed at yakusa so that's OK I guess.

Very good photography, solid music and a soul spiralling out of it's orbit.