ebossert It has become clear that Seijun Suzuki is the Wong Jing of Japan, sporting an equally lame sense of "humor" that consists of hysterical behavior and incessant screaming within poorly constructed, thoughtless scenarios. It's no wonder this idiot got canned by Nikkatsu and subsequently blacklisted after his lame crapfest "Branded to Kill" (1967), which showcased ineptly constructed shootouts, gratuitous sexual content, lots of bad acting, and a preposterous ending with some dimwit acting hysterical in a boxing ring. If a director of mine dropped that pile of elephant compost on my desk, I'd fire his ass too.As a viewer, I was unlucky enough to experience Suzuki's "Pistol Opera" (2001) first, which still holds the dubious record for "Worst Movie Ever Made" in my book. With "Princess Raccoon" (2005), however, Suzuki proved that his abject stupidity could yield a flawed, yet moderately entertaining film, but my patience is running thin. I've got lots of Asian movies to watch, and I don't like wasting my time with directors who have a 33% success ratio. "Fighting Elegy" (1966) just made it 25%.At no point is this movie remotely funny or engaging. It uses the "40-year-old acting like a juvenile child" gag that – in and of itself – is utterly lame and it just grates on the nerves from the very first minute. Characters have zero complexity and the fight scenes are a disgrace in their artificiality and persistent use of biting, nosepicking, and people falling over each other. None of the fights look real and seem to be the victim of incompetent directing as the baddies look as if their swatting flies the entire time. The camera-work uses amateur ploys like random closeups and rapid editing for no apparently good reason. These tactics are sure fire points of condemnation when presented in modern day films, but somehow magically become "brilliant" and "masterful" when presented in a Japanese film released before 1970. Go figure.Don't misunderstand me, because I really do like pre-1970 Japanese cinema. Seriously, I do. For example, of the 17 Yasujiro Ozu films I've had the pleasure of seeing, 4 were excellent, 5 were very good, 6 were good, and 2 were mediocre. That's an 88% success ratio, which means that I froth at the mouth to watch more of his films. However, the difference between a great director like Ozu and low-talent assclowns like Seijun Suzuki and Akira Kurosawa is that Ozu is capable of directing actors properly and understands that quaint realism can supersede thoughtless hysterical behavior and/or melodramatic fluff.On a side note, I fired up a few of Suzuki's interviews that were included as special features on the DVD releases. It's uncomfortable hearing him pat himself on the back while gloating about the fact that he focuses on entertainment value first and foremost. The problem is that Suzuki's idea of "entertainment" results in contrived silliness mixed with uninteresting, undeveloped content. I fear that the only reason "Princess Raccoon" worked as an entertainment vehicle was because it had an implicitly interesting premise and was structured within a self-referential fantasy world where contrivance felt natural. Perhaps Suzuki should make another stage-play style musical, because his attempts at real life humor are abysmal and shallow at best.

MARIO GAUCI This was only my fourth Seijun Suzuki film - after TOKYO DRIFTER (1966), BRANDED TO KILL (1967) and PISTOL OPERA (2001) - and it's a typically energetic outing, with strong doses of comedy augmenting the character study of a young man who can only express himself adequately through violence and how he is forced to take stock of his life after falling in love with a cultured young girl. Drawing obvious parallels to FIGHT CLUB (1999), the film's fight scenes are quite well done but, even more interestingly, it looks forward to the struggle between religious faith and a violent environment that would surface in later films, primarily the work of Martin Scorsese (the script of FIGHTING ELEGY was penned by Kaneto Shindo, director of THE NAKED ISLAND [1960] and ONIBABA [1964]!). However, the film runs out of steam towards the end by taking an unexpectedly serious (and propagandist) turn which doesn't sit comfortably with the anarchy that had gone on before!

Meganeguard Kiroku Nanbu seems to be a decent enough fellow. A Catholic, he attends church regularly with the family with whom he boards. He is respectful to his father, his elders, including older schoolmates, and adores Michiko a young girl who is the pinnacle of purity and innocence. However, Kiroku has another side as well. Beneath his kind ways, which are definitely genuine, lurks the heart and soul of a fighter. Constantly throughout the films eighty-six minutes Kiroku fights his way through upperclassmen and students at rival schools. Kiroku is the embodiment of "Koha" or the "hard school." Like Miyamoto Musashi, members of the hard school were supposed to hone their fighting skills to perfection and be the quintessence of masculinity, however, in order to reach this peak of manliness, the men were supposed to be indifferent to women. Yet, Kiroku cannot get the image of his beloved Michiko out of his head.Not wanting to sully the perfect image of Michiko that resides in his mind, Kiroku avoids taking "matters" into his own hands Therefore he gets into fights to use up his energy. However, Michiko also seems to like our young hero because of his manliness and desires to teach him such things as English and the piano. However, this of course causes Kiroku more anguish because he cannot get images such as Michiko's "white hands" out of his mind.Taking place in Okayama in the year 1935, Suzuki sets the film during Japan's expansionist period. The hard school image along with the power of the Japanese spirit was promulgated by the heads of the Imperial Japanese Army, and later Mishima Yukio, and this mentality led to the needless deaths of thousands of Japanese soldiers who charged into battles, in later years, with the superior forces of the Soviet Union. As he criticized the American occupation of Japan in Gate of Flesh, Suzuki in Fighting Elegy makes a farce out of the hard school.Fighting Elegy is an incredibly fun film by one of Japan's most individualistic directors. With its tongue-in-cheek look at Japan during the 1930s and, to a lesser extent, the Japanese military, Suzuki allows the audience to view young men so caught up in the ideals of manliness that they struggle to become full individuals. However, being that this is a Suzuki Seijun film, a director who states that there are no deeper meanings to his films than their entertainment value, my above statements might mean little more than ashes in water. Yet, it is definitely a fun ride!

frankgaipa In the little Suzuki festival I made myself of four recent DVD releases, this stood out. The up-front, if onanistic, humor linked to the political and military era, the Christian religious aspect, the protagonist's inane yet never-ending need to hit people, the huge, huge gang fight, and the relative absence of organized crime, the brazen aping of things military all struck me. But what really stays is the shimmering 2.35:1 black and white imagery. Somehow it differs from the 2.35 b/w of a crime flick like Underworld Beauty or the urban desert of Branded to Kill. There's a deliberative fuzziness, a quavery living light about most scenes that has to have been an artistic choice. It evokes the period in a way that today's filmmakers might try and fail with sepia. Imagine Mizoguchi with a super wide canvas.Can't find it in my shelves today, but my favorite account of black and white film-making is Cocteau's diary of the making of Beauty and the Beast. Weeks and months would slip by while Cocteau waited to bounce just the right sunlight off some sheets hung to dry or Beauty's cheek or hair. Certainly not the case here: Suzuki wanted to shoot in color. The miracle that's Fighting Elegy was actually bum luck, his second choice. He was making film after film within studio schedules and guidelines. Even so, this film's black and white shines.