Tokyo Drifter defies expectations of the Japanese gangster film, but no just because of its prevalent use of music, but because its editing and structure make it absurdly difficult to follow the first time through. The narrative seems to jump indiscriminately halfway between one scene and the next and the viewer has to make an effort to connect the events as the film clips along. The story is certainly linear in its telling, but how it’s presented by Director Seijun Suzuki comes closer to a rock skipping over the surface of a pond with each jump a little shorter until it becomes a rapid series of small cuts and finally sinks into its ending. Luckily the story that the viewer pieces together, about a gang attempting to turn legitimate and leave their underhanded ways behind them with a real estate deal, affords them the chance to reconcile the film’s process and its plot into a final product that’s mesmerizing with its color palette and lead actor Tetsuya Watari.
Tetsuya (Watari) is a loyal member of his gang, and so when his boss tells him not to engage their rivals in any sort of violent action, he takes his lumps and soldiers on. Tetsuya knows that if they manage to finish out their deal, they can retire from a life of crime and become straight-shooting businessmen—without the guns. That plan hits a snag when the rival boss discovers their plan and subverts it to his own benefit, leaving Tetsuya with little option but to fight to secure his and the rest of the gang’s future. Tokyo Drifter is a twisted tale of double dealing, deceit, and showdowns that simultaneously follows in the vein of the traditional Japanese gangster film while breaking the mold.
Tokyo Drifter aspires towards art more than it does a typical narrative, and Suzuki takes every opportunity to play with vivid colors that are pleasing to the eye and a sight to behold. At times the frame can seem like the creation of a child crazed with a new paint set, and a club might feature rich hues of blue, green, purple, red, yellow, and blinding whites only to switch moments later to a room flush with a warm yellow or a bland room that makes the powder blue suit of Tetsuya look like the most precocious choice of accoutrement you’ve ever seen on a gangster. For this reason the Blu-ray presentation of Tokyo Drifter is spectacular and worthy of a viewing (or two or three if you want to absorb the story too) in its latest HD conversion.
Blu-ray Bonus Features
Compared to other Criterion Collection releases, Tokyo Drifter is relatively light on extra features. Normally, featurettes, archival footage, retrospectives, and interviews abound, but this time only the latter is found. What’s worse is that the interview split between Director Seijun Suzuki and his Assistant Director Masami Kuzuu doesn’t even feature the two together, but rather has them answering the questions separately. Furthermore, the interview is quite recent with both looking quite worse for the wear (especially Seijun), though the real hitch is you can’t help but feel many details are escaping them due to the 45 years since filming. However, the interview with just Seijun isn’t much better, even if it does benefit from a narration that helps to give it focus. Seijun does look much more aware in this interview.
The customary Criterion Collection insert also feels light by Criterion standards, wherein you’ll find not two or three essays, but one. Furthermore, the singular piece included isn’t so much a critique of the film as it is an outright, borderline sycophantic praise chorus written by film critic Howard Hampton. There’s no questioning that Tokyo Drifter has a very unique twist making it something memorable, but Hampton’s rant offers little substance. It’s a sermon intended to be preached to the choir, if that’s not you, the piece feels gushy.
"Tokyo Drifter (The Criterion Collection)" is on sale December 13, 2011 and is not rated. Crime, Drama. Directed by Seijun Suzuki. Written by Kohan Kawauchi. Starring Tetsuya Watari, Chieko Matsubara, Hideaki Nitaki.
