Adrenalina Máxima

I'm not entirely sure what to make of this film--I suspect I need to view it at least once, and probably several more times before I can get a good hold on it. However, my inability to fully comprehend what "Sonatine" is about doesn't strike me as a flaw. Rather, the film is much more complicated than the usual gangster film.

It begins with very unsentimentalized and nonglorified violence. People hit and kill each other and it isn't much different than toast popping out of the toaster. It is fast, moderately bloody, and there. Kitano doesn't seem to be interested in thrilling us with either the danger, grotesqueness, or thrill of violence--another, not clearly defined agenda is at work here.

At perhaps a third of the way into the film, it makes a sudden transition from this gangster life to a period of forced inactivity. I suspect this section, which is delightfully playful, is at the heart of this film.

Murakawa is a mid-level Yakuza enforcer weary of the gangster lifestyle, toiling away his days in Tokyo. His superior orders him to Okinawa, ostensibly to settle a dispute with a rival gang in the area. Murakawa thinks the assignment is merely an attempt to have him taken out, though still makes the trip alongside his motley crew of ruffians. After their headquarters in Okinawa is bombed, Murakawa takes his men to the seaside, where they engage in childish games (with sinister undertones) in order to pass the time. All the while, Murakawa feels the cold hands of fate tightening around his neck, and just what that cruel mistress has in store for him remains to be seen in Takeshi Kitano's 'Sonatine.'

A masterpiece of minimalism, 'Sonatine,' is a powerful, quiet film that speaks volumes without the need for words. Written and directed by Kitano, the film parodies the conventions of gangster films whilst playing into them, showing how facile and vacuous the majority of them are. The film strikes the perfect balance between introspection and sudden, whirlwind action, containing no unnecessary moments, stylizations or lines of dialogue. It is an economic, intelligently constructed movie that simmers steadily over its' runtime up to a terrific boil of violence, nihilism and existentialist depth.

'Sonatine' is oft compared to the films of Jean-Pierre Melville, in particular 'Le Samouraï.' Indeed, both films adopt a nihilistic attitude towards violence and feature long sequences containing limited dialogue. This allows the audience to experience the film's atmosphere and take themselves into the mind of the characters in a manner unfettered by extraneous noise. However, 'Sonatine' is less emotionally frigid than the work of Melville, and contains much humour; something rarely if ever found in Melville's movies. It is- on the whole- a far more entertaining cinematic experience; not to mention being a more rewarding intellectual one.

The film is shot by Katsumi Yanagishima, who worked on Kitano's previous efforts 'Boiling Point' and 'A Scene at the Sea.' Under Kitano's firm guidance, his cinematography is understated and naturalistic, producing haunting visuals that linger in the mind long after the credits have rolled. Kitano's films rarely if ever feature orthodox composition or framing of images, and the fresh, organic and off-beat approach to visuals in his movies is continuously striking and distinct. Yanagishima would go on to work on Kitano's next thirteen directorial features; though their collaboration on 'Sonatine' may still be their crowning achievement.

'Sonatine' features the work of another frequent collaborator of Kitano's: composer Joe Hisaishi. His score is beautiful, mournful and melodic; drifting through the film like a euphonious wind. There are few partnerships between composer and director as fruitful in cinema, perhaps only that of David Lynch and Angelo Badalamenti comes close. Hisaishi's work is muted and evocative, adding unquestionable power and depth to the proceedings. Hisaishi worked on seven of Kitano's films, and never once was his score anything other than mellifluous, pure and unobtrusive; as it is in 'Sonatine.'

Additionally, the film boasts a commanding central performance from Kitano as Murakawa. Few have a presence on screen as magnetic and quietly confident as Kitano. He performs with an unabashed ease and an unmatched stillness; seeming like a silent Cheshire cat without the grin, noting the proceedings around him with prescience and irony. His Murakawa is a composed man capable of extreme brutality, one tired of his existence and all too used to the grind and violence of life. Kitano fully becomes this character in so subtle a manner some might think he isn't doing anything at all; the highest compliment any actor can be paid.

His supporting cast features many talented performers working at the top of their games, most notably the great Susumu Terajima and the late Ren Ôsugi; both frequent collaborators of Kitano. Here, Terajima stars as Ken, one of Murakawa's underlings, delivering an assured performance of depth and wit. Ôsugi is equally outstanding, playing a smaller role as an associate of Murakawa's named Katagiri; though still impressing with his range and naturalness.

Takeshi Kitano's 'Sonatine' is a brilliant crime film of the ascetic variety that is unforgettable and unique. On every level, the movie impresses, from the excellent performances to Katsumi Yanagishima's striking visuals; and of course the stirring score from Joe Hisaishi. It is- for lack of a better term- the thinking man's crime film, as it contains moments of profundity and silence that would no doubt put many off or leave them clamoring for more action. In short, 'Sonatine' is a memorable, mature masterpiece of minimalism from an original, incomparable auteur. If you haven't seen it before, watch it now; 'Sonatine' is not to be missed.

Like most of Beat Takeshi's movies, you have to really observe it, rather than watch it, to really appreciate his movies. His style is almost Zen-like in its lingering shots of people and scenery. You have to be very attentive to everything he presents to you, or you are just not going to "get it." People here in the US are used to being spoon fed their information and it's no different in US-made movies. They need to be told if the character is angry, sad, tired, etc... and movies like Sonatine tells you "hey, you're on your own, use your brain for once." In most Asian cultures, males tend not to verbally express their emotions, but they will show in their eyes and body language, which is why Westerners have such a hard time understanding our culture. I'm Chinese, born and raised in the US, and I found this movie to be a wonderfully complex and beautifully shot.

I think the people who criticize this film do so because they've been trained to watch movies the way Hollywood makes them. This is as far from Hollywood as a gangster film can get. The quiet (or as some might say, boring) moments are there because the characters exist in a realistic world where sometimes they can do nothing but sit and think. Sonatine isn't perfect, but it can certainly be appreciated if the viewer will approach it with an open mind. Also, the sumo scene is very fun and beautiful.

Having finally experience Sonatine, I can't say enough for this poignant and moving film. Beat Takeshi may face death with that same disconnected look on his face, but it is the inaction, the time between the killings, that carry all the meaning. Even when in gunbattles, nobody moves, nobody tries to dodge, it is as if everyone simply feels chained to their fate. This is jarring to Asian cinema lovers used to side-jumping, dual-gun gymnastics and amazing set pieces.

I love how the only emotions Murakawa expresses are humor and nihilist apathy. The "sumo scene" is so delightfully out-of-place, while the ending simply leaves your mouth open. The warmth the characters show just makes it more hurtful when they meet such pathetic, low-key ends. I'm not an expert on Japanese society, but I see this film as a comment on the emptiness of a fear-filled culture of reservation, where it is more important to show restraint and respect than it is to continue living.

I'll still enjoy good ol' HK pistol operas, but I'll never see them quite the same again.