Review of Ichi the Killer (2001) by Andy A — 14 Dec 2009

It seems the Japanese are consistently on the cutting edge of all things notoriously twisted. And Takashi Miike is damn good proof that they're damn good at it too. Known for his versatility of subject matter (he's actually directed kids movies for God's sake.

..) but more so for the penchant for sadism which seems to stain his most memorable characters, Miike's most infamous film alongside "Audition", and perhaps the more recently banned "Imprint", has become known much more for its masochistic supporting character, the yakuza underling with a Glasgow smile (WIKIPEDIA!), Kakihara, played with a subtle delight by Tadanobu Asano.

Unlike the infuriating whiner whose name the title assumes, the disturbed criminal who becomes Ichi's next target is the one who ultimately steals our hearts (by punching through our chests with his fist, mind you).

As he scours the streets and nightclubs of Tokyo with the remaining members of his gang like a desperate jackal, sick with hunger and willing to take as much as he's willing to give, we move in and out of a complex crime drama that's equally willing to jolt us in and out of our comfort.

Though the story itself is somewhat confusing (I hardly think repeated viewings will even fill the few major voids left by the plot holes), the bravado with which Miike explores the musty depths of revenge, sexual violence, and what it all means towards the goal of gratification, is innovative and downright cool at times.

True, you might find yourself disconcerted when you see a rival mob boss being boiled and skewered alive with yakitori sticks and tempura, then laugh it off when Kakihara innocently replies "It's only a little torture", but the way in which Miike manipulates and batters our senses into an agreeable submissiveness is awe-inspiring and makes shock value not just a means to put asses in the seat but transforms the technique into an art form all its own.

On a similar note, given the subject matter and the grotesque violence (this is not for someone with a weak stomach), the exploration into human perversion is tinged with a degree of dark humor that would at first seem unbefitting.

But it's through this absurdism, which occasionally rises up like a stoic maid to clean the sheets, that the film ultimately assumes a mark of ambiguous honor. Nay, even pride.