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I'm always amazed at how a single film can be fundamentally characterized in multiple ways, but that's understandable when the picture combines an array of diverse elements, each of which has a validity all its own that can subsequently lead to different overarching interpretations. Such is the case with this 1963 film classic from famed Japanese auteur Akira Kurosawa, which provides the cinematic inspiration behind filmmaker Spike Lee's current reimagination, "Highest 2 Lowest," now playing theatrically. Like the current iteration, "High and Low" follows the story of a wealthy businessman, Kingo Gondô (Toshirô Mifune), who's looking to take control of the shoe manufacturing company for which he works, a plan that requires him to leverage his entire personal fortune to make it possible. But, just as he's about to close the deal, he's distracted by the alleged kidnapping of his young son (Toshio Egi), a crime for which the perpetrator demands a ransom equal in value to the funds needed to cover the pending transaction. However, not long after hearing about the kidnapping, Gondô learns that the culprit has nabbed the wrong child, erroneously taking the son (Masahiko Shimazu) of his chauffeur (Yutaka Sada). But Gondô is not off the hook: the kidnapper still demands payment of the ransom, even though the crime doesn't involve his son. This leaves Gondô with a huge moral dilemma: does he use the money to close his business deal or to pay the ransom of his employee's child? As Gondô grapples with this decision, an intense police investigation ensues to discover the kidnapper's identity and to figure out a way to retrieve both the victim and the ransom money. Unlike the current film, though, Kurosawa's version focuses less on the particulars driving this scenario and more intently on the ethical questions that the protagonist is left to wrestle with, issues ultimately symbolic of the divisive class and economic disparities in Japanese society. Indeed, while the picture provides viewers with its share of intense thriller moments, in many regards it's really more of a morality play, not only where Gondô is concerned, but also in its exploration of the inherent chasms between rich and poor, privileged and impoverished, and control and servitude. (This attribute, in turn, helps to shed light on the nature of the film's character and the relevance of its original Japanese title, "Tengoku to jigoku," which translates to "Heaven and Hell," in my opinion a more fitting appellation that probably should have been retained when renamed in English.) The foregoing aspects of the picture thus distinguish this predecessor work from the current release, even though the exact nature of the nexus between kidnapper and target is not developed as fully here as I believe it should have been (one of the few ways in which the present offering modestly improves upon the original). In addition, there are times in the opening act, as well as in the run-up to the film's conclusion, when the storytelling could have been a little brisker (the slower pacing style of the period in which the picture was made notwithstanding). Still, this offering's social and cultural themes are nevertheless intriguing, and their place here has a tendency to grow on audiences as the picture progresses. And those thematic aspects, when combined with the contrast of the narrative's riveting criminal investigation, make for an intriguing mix, one that undoubtedly accounts for the differing perspectives that this release often evokes among viewers. While "High and Low" may not be Kurosawa's best work when compared with such pictures as "Rashômon" (1950) and "Ikiru" (1952), it stands out as one of the filmmaker's most thoughtful and engaging works, one that probes the heaven and hell that reside here on Earth, both individually and at their points of intersection, and how the lines between them can become all too easily blurred, a caution to us all.

Director Spike Lee is known for having made his share of fine films ("Do the Right Thing" (1989), "Malcolm X" (1992), "She's Gotta Have It" (1986), "BlacKkKlansman" (2018) and "Da 5 Bloods" (2020), among others), as well as his share of misfires ("Chi-Raq" (2015), "Red Hook Summer" (2012) and "Bamboozled" (2000), to name a few), but rarely do his pictures fall squarely in the largely indistinguishable middle. Such is the case, however, with the filmmaker's latest outing, a reinterpretation of the 1963 Akira Kurosawa Japanese crime thriller, "High and Low" ("Tengoku to jigoku"), a remake admittedly being a somewhat unusual production choice for this storied auteur. This is by no means a bad offering, but it is a puzzling one that is largely difficult to categorize. "Highest 2 Lowest" follows the story of David King (Denzel Washington), a successful New York City music mogul said to have "the best ears in the business." However. When on the brink of closing a deal to revive his sagging recording company, he's suddenly distracted by the apparent kidnapping of his 17-year-old son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph), whose release carries a $17.5 million ransom demand, an amount essentially equal to what he would need to complete his pending business transaction. Matters become further complicated when David learns that the criminals have not kidnapped Trey but have instead erroneously nabbed the teenage son (Elijah Wright) of his longtime friend, Paul Christopher (Jeffrey Wright), an ex-con who works as his driver, associate and confidante. This leaves David with the question, should he pay the ransom for someone who isn't his son? Will doing so prevent the deal from proceeding? And what kind of public fallout would he experience if he declines to do so? Such are the dilemmas he must address and the outcomes they could bring. However, while this story thread makes up the core of the film's narrative, it's not especially well executed in terms of writing, editing and the performances. With that said, though, the picture nevertheless succeeds brilliantly in other ways, most notably in terms of its articulate statement about the state of current support for the arts and culture in the African-American community, particularly when it comes to funding efforts that are genuinely deserving of financial backing versus those artistically underwhelming projects that are rewarded merely for their commercial viability. This is perhaps best reflected in a performance of the picture's inspiring title song, a composition truly worthy of serious consideration for an Academy Award in the upcoming best original song competition (an Oscar category to which I usually devote little attention). What's more, it's commendable that Lee makes his point on this score without resorting to his often-used tactic of angrily screaming at the audience and browbeating viewers into submission, a most refreshingly welcome deviation to his usual style of filmmaking (a change that I hope he employs more frequently going forward). When all of these diverse attributes are considered collectively, however, it's not entirely clear precisely what the filmmaker was going for in the first place, which is why it's a release best relegated to the artistic middle ground of his filmography. Indeed, there are sincerely noteworthy elements in place here, but there are also others that could stand some work, a mixed outcome I typically don't expect from this director. In that sense, then, it could be said that the picture has a most fitting title to describe its content, even though it's a somewhat disappointing result from a filmmaker from whom I generally expect better.

No matter how many elements a filmmaker may get right in creating a movie, none of them means anything if they're not set within a coherent cinematic context, either thematically or in terms of the picture's central narrative. And, regrettably, that's the problem that plagues the second solo narrative feature outing from writer-director Ethan Coen. This pulpy comedy-drama-crime thriller, which follows the exploits of flamboyant, perpetually "thirsty" small town private detective Honey O'Donahue (Margaret Qualley) in her investigation of a series of unsolved murders apparently tied to mysterious church, successfully incorporates an array of truly captivating qualities - colorful character development, fine performances (particularly by Qualley and in the supporting portrayals of Aubrey Plaza, Chris Evans and Charlie Day), a well-crafted production design and a collection of knock-it-out-of-the-park one-liners. In fact, about the only thing that's missing here is a solid, comprehensible story. The picture's disjointed jumble of plot threads - many of them underdeveloped and/or extraneous - meanders along for roughly 90 minutes without ever really going anywhere or saying anything relevant or meaningful. To be sure, "Honey Don't!" has its share of genuinely enjoyable moments, but a handful of modestly memorable instances does not a movie make. And that's unfortunate, given that it seems the picture has many of the ingredients for what could have potentially been an outlandishly funny, wickedly engaging tale. Instead, viewers are left with a plot that aimlessly roams from tangent to tangent and never seems to coalesce into something substantial or integrated, no matter how visually appealing it might be or how effective it is in tickling one's funny bone. And, when the film comes up lacking in this regard, it often falls back on titillating sequences driven by graphic sexuality or edgy violence to shore up its obvious deficiencies, a rather cheap and cheesy way to try and revive sagging audience interest. In that sense, then, this production reminds me very much of the films of such directors as Quentin Tarantino and Paul Thomas Anderson, whose releases, in my view, are often long on style and woefully short on substance. I find all of this rather disappointing, especially in light of Coen's filmography over the years, particularly his many successful productions with his brother Joel. But perhaps that's the key ingredient that's missing here - the collaboration of the two siblings working together to produce truly outstanding works of cinema (and, thankfully, a reunion of the two is said to be in development). Whatever the case, though, it appears the filmmaker's sophomore attempt at working on his own has not yet yielded cinema of the caliber that he's capable of. Let's hope that changes with his next project.