Adrenalina Máxima

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.

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.

Given the opening chapter's focus on internal Yakuza machinations and street-tough theatrics, it would be easy to reflexively label Sonatine as just another dose of dirty criminal intrigue. But then, when an inauspicious job goes sideways and the little crew of posh mobsters and crass underlings are forced into hiding, it takes a hard left and becomes something entirely different. Whiling the days and weeks away in an abandoned beach house, we explore the duality of these lives and soften their outer veneer.

In that sense, the internet-famous cover photo of writer/star/director Takeshi Kitano grinning broadly while holding a gun to his head is a precise depiction of the film's themes. These gangland thugs might be all business when they're intimidating store owners or trading bullets with a rival gang (nary an eyelash is batted when Kitano and company dunk a victim for too long and accidentally drown him), but on their down time, they need to cut loose, have a few laughs and make human connections, too. The really interesting points are where those two opposite modes meet, a jolting transformation when light amusement slams into stone-serious reality and all the easy smiles melt. There's always a momentary hesitation where we can't be certain which way the scales will tip, and that's dangerously exciting. Those key moments take time to develop, though, which leads the plot to really sag in the middle.

Kitano performs very well as the central figure, a stark dichotomy of incompatible moods, but he can't be on-screen at all times and isn't always surrounded by the best supporting talent. A strong thematic concept, one which evidently developed live in the field as the script was extremely bare bones, but not especially well-executed. Loaded with promising ideas, much of Sonatine's ephemeral potential depends upon what you, the viewer, are willing to bring to the table.