Hana-Bi

A former strip club MC and one half of the long defunct comedy duo the Two Beats, acclaimed Japanese film-director Takeshi Kitano is a man of many talents. With one of his six television programs airing every night of the week in his native land, this best-selling novelist, poet, sports commentator, newspaper columnist and painter is one of Japan’s most popular modern icons. The writer and director of ten feature films, despite winning praise for his supporting role in 1983’s Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, it was not until his critically acclaimed fourth film; 1993 yakuza drama Sonatine, that Kitano the film-maker grabbed the attention of Western audiences. Known for his minimalist style, confronting subject material, and flashes of brutal violence, it was his seventh film, the 1997 Golden Lion winning Hana-Bi, that finally cemented Kitano’s reputation, both at home and abroad, as a truly world-class director.

Widely recognised as his masterpiece, Hana-Bi came at an interesting point in Kitano’s life. Shortly after his appearance as a yakuza assassin in 1995 Hollywood flop Johnny Mnemonic, a drunk Kitano was almost killed when he ran his moped off the road in Tokyo. The accident, from which he was not expected to recover, left him partially paralysed down the right side of his face. Taking up painting during his seven-month convalescence, Kitano finally returned to his work, and, despite producing two feature films in the intervening years, it is in Hana-Bi that Kitano seemed finally able to distil the profound effect that this accident had on his life; his own paintings from this period playing a central role in the final film.

The story, adeptly edited by Kitano himself and told in a flash-back/flash-forward style, revolves around Tokyo detective Nishi (Kitano); a man who has already lost his only child and whose wife (Kayoko Kishimoto) now lies dying of leukaemia in a Tokyo hospital. When Nishi’s good friend and fellow detective Horibe (Ren Osugi) offers to take Nishi’s place at a stake out so that he may visit his ailing wife, Horibe is seriously wounded by their quarry. Paralysed from the waste down, Horibe is confined to a wheelchair and discharged from the police force; a fact that soon sees his own wife and child pack up and leave him. Enraged with guilt, Nishi tracks down the suspect to a busy subway station and, in the ensuing struggle, another of his colleagues is shot dead and Nishi is suspended from the police force for undue violence.

But Nishi’s problems are only just beginning. With an existing debt to the local yakuza, gangsters are already sniffing around after their money. And with nothing more they can do to help his ailing wife, the hospital doctors have discharged her into his care; suggesting that a holiday might do her some good. Borrowing yet more money from the loan sharks, Nishi buys Horibe some art supplies (he had indicated he might take up painting) and resolves to take his wife away on an extended road-trip. Using the remainder of his money to finance a nefarious scheme (I dare not spoil it here) he pays off the gangsters, sends money to Horibe and his dead colleague’s young widow, and hits the road with his wife. For a while everything is perfect and the couple’s time spent together goes quietly by. But the yakuza have gotten wind of his little stunt and, along with investigating detectives, are soon hot on their trail…

“Violence is absolutely indispensable to get other messages across. This bothers me a lot, but I can’t make compromises…� -- Takeshi Kitano.

The first thing you notice about a Kitano film is the imposing figure of Kitano himself, and Hana-Bi is no exception. Almost always hidden behind dark sunglasses, the right side of Kitano’s face is effectively motionless. Impassive and unreadable except for an involuntary tic in his left eye, it is a mask that leaves his actions to speak of his fragile emotional state. Of all the movie hard-men that have come and gone over the years, Kitano must surely be one of the hardest! And yet this man’s sense of comedic timing is impeccable; able to turn a highly dramatic, inevitably violent scene on its head with little more than a cheeky grin.

Indeed it’s the violence in Kitano’s films that seems to command the focus of his many critics, but in reality it’s not nearly as bad as many would have you believe. The real issue here is that Kitano doesn’t glamorise violence; it’s a serious, often very messy business that lasts only seconds, and is very, very personal. Certainly Kitano rejects the carefree, comic-book filler that pervades most Hollywood action films.

In signature style, Hana-Bi does contain violence. Short, sharp bursts of it. But the film also contains so much more. At their heart, Kitano’s movies are films of contrast, layer upon lavish layer of it. And in Hana-Bi Kitano deftly combines drama, violence, romance and comedy into one seamless and utterly charming whole; each facet played off against the others for maximum impact. Nishi is both a brutal warrior and a warm devoted family man, and the Japanese title Hana-Bi, breaking down the Japanese word for fireworks into the characters for fire and flower, perfectly illustrates this duality that is at the heart of the film. Framed by almost senseless violence, the scenes between Nishi and his wife are incredibly touching; the pair sharing some warm and beautifully comedic moments that, in contrast to the utter chaos that surrounds them, become moments of peace and respite. Striking a perfect balance, the results are a moving drama that literally holds you spellbound.

Having suffering the sub-standard video presentation of my region 1 release for upwards of two years now, Madman’s region 4 release of Hana-Bi comes as a welcome relief. Whilst it does introduce a small number of aliasing-related artefacts, the image is beautifully sharp and detailed; translating with equal clarity both the beautiful Japanese scenery, and the urban decrepitude that is the poorer areas of suburban Tokyo. Drawn from pleasingly clean source material that displays only the odd black speck and a very small amount of grain in the darkest of night-scenes, the transfer exhibits the contrasting but no less characteristic colours of Japan’s neon-filled city streets and spectacular cherry blossoms with equal vibrancy. Realistic skin tones complete the picture, supported by good black level and a reasonable level of shadow detail.

Whilst infinitely better than its region 1 counterpart, the transfer is not without its problems. Limited to a small amount on one or two darker walls (such as the gloomy stairwells of the Tokyo hospital), a slight amount of background posterisation is exhibited from time to time. In contrast, other common problem areas such as smoke and mist are all handled well. Also sure to annoy many is a generous helping of edge-enhancement, as well as a solitary end of reel marker that has survived the telecine process. Thankfully the layer change is nicely placed at a silent scene change.

Despite these small problems, the pluses certainly outweigh the negatives. Fans, as I, should be well pleased with Madman’s presentation; Kitano’s strikingly visual film scrubbing up very nicely indeed for its region 4 debut.

Despite being produced within the last ten years, like other regions Hana-Bi’s original Japanese soundtrack is presented in only one form; a serviceable Dolby Digital Surround mix. All in all, this choice is not that surprising given Kitano’s minimalistic use of sound in the film. Dialogue is sparse; with his own lead character, not to mention his wife, uttering no more than a few sentences throughout. If this lack of dialogue isn’t enough, Kitano also uses silence - especially during the film’s violent moments - to powerful effect. Certainly Hana-Bi relies more heavily on its beautifully haunting, distinctively melancholy score than any other element; the signature melody of which was penned by Kitano himself. Thankfully this striking arrangement is balanced nicely between the front and rear channels, providing an immersive, certainly emotive, viewing experience.

Where appropriate, what dialogue we do get is handled well; coming clearly and distinctly from the front channels. A small amount of front-channel directionality can also be heard in the rumbling trajectory of the odd car or truck. Some ambient sound in also offered by the rear channel; be it the sighing of the sea around Tokyo Bay, the buzzing cicadas of the Japanese countryside, or the busy traffic of the seething metropolis. The subwoofer is also given a small amount of work to do, adding its signature voice to gunshots, the slamming of car doors, a couple of exploding fireworks, and the dull thud of punches on yakuza goons.

Thankfully, the all-important yellow subtitles (Madman-standard) are easy to read without detracting from the image itself.

Static menus provide access to a few theatrical trailers and one interesting featurette on the making of the film.

• Featurette: (24:14) Starting with trailers for Kitano’s six films that preceded Hana-Bi, this great little featurette presents footage from on set, interspersed with interview snippets with the auteur himself. A reasonable look at the making of the film (caution, contains spoilers!) and a great introduction to Kitano the artist.

• Theatrical Trailer: Although foreign trailers are usually somewhat more interesting than their American counterpart, they still make pretty forgettable DVD extras.

• Madman Propaganda: Yet more trailers for current and upcoming Madman releases: Spirited Away (can’t wait for that one), Swing, Satin Rouge, Ring (the frightening Japanese original), Rain and Monsoon Wedding.

One of my favourite films of all time, Takeshi Kitano’s masterpiece Hana-Bi is a film of contrasts that transcends its minimalist style to provide a beautifully balanced mix of shocks, laughs and tears. With Madman providing quite reasonable video and audio transfers for the film’s region 4 release, I recommend that everyone with an interest in film experience Hana-Bi at least once in their lives.