Rating: D
File Under: Lost In Translation
I was first introduced to director Takashi Miike in his short film Imprint, which he directed for HBO's Masters Of Horror. Although the episode never aired due to its graphic depictions of torture and tender subject matters, it still remains available on DVD and viewable on the internet. In that one hour film Takashi Miike truly shines as a director and as an artist. But sadly, this is not a review of that stellar mini-movie. Instead it is about a two hour waste of my time.
The worst part of Ichi the Killer is not the brutal violence or the disgusting gore or even the unneeded nudity/sex, no, this movie completely falls on its face in the plot. The dialog is solid and for the first forty minutes, you are compelled by the convoluted story line. Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, you realize that you actually have no clue what is going on and neither does the movie itself. It bounces around from scene to bloody scene trying to tie together the loose ends left by the story.
Originally adapted from the manga of the same name, Ichi the Killer follows the story of Kakihara, a Yakuza enforcer who receives great pleasure from giving and taking beatings, and freely deals out visually disturbing and graphic torture. The extent of his depravity knows no real bounds and in many scenes he is seen orchestrating, or actually perpetrating, acts of obscene violence. His physical appearance reflects his lust for pain, his face is scarred and at one point he cuts off the end of his own tongue, in addition the corners of his mouth are bound together to keep closed the, most likely, self-inflicted Glasgow smile he wears. When the story opens all seems to be well for the Yakuza, until the Anjo mob boss, Anjo, is brutally murdered by the mysterious Ichi, Kakihara sets out to find and punish the man responsible for his mentor's death... then let the sub-plots ensue.
I'm not even going to go into the horribly conceived story that begins to take place from there, instead I am going to take a moment to share where Miike does do a great job. The camera work in this movie is unbelievable, Miike takes the pulpy and gritty style of Guy Ritchie (circa. Snatch) and deftly blends it with the oddball camera angles and non-panning scenes of Quentin Tarantino (Circa. Reservoir Dogs). The city jumps by at a schizophrenic pace while conversations are reverent and intimate, never does someone leave a building without the filter becoming grainy and racing through the streets but when they pause to speak with another person, the camera pulls in close and focuses intently. Yet even here, at his strong point, Miike fails the movie. If the shot is interesting for a few moments, the director drags it out to death, literally to the point where you forget whether you had liked it or not, in the first place.
The bad news continues when you realize that the characters are vapid and foolish with absolutely no dimensions or levels of depth, there are not strong emotional ties to any one character in particular. If the movie is going to be a blood bath, there needs to be some way that we can connect with the one person left on camera the entire time. Instead, Tadanobu Asano gives the viewer a swaggering, self loathing and totally unsympathetic caricature of a sadistic torturer, devoid of any charm or wit. It's tough to enjoy a movie when there isn't one single solitary character to relate to, or even cheer on.
This movie was a waste of my evening, I should have picked another to review. Takashi Miike should either: stick to original plots and never do another adaptation again, or just do short films where he can cram shock and beauty into such a compact space that it will force the viewer to remain riveted.
If you are going to watch this movie... don't. Just find a copy of Imprint and watch that instead.
truly disturbing
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