Review for Branded to Kill

Branded to Kill (1967)

Director: Seijun Suzuki



Introduction

Cult Japanese film, Branded to Kill is one element of the outlandish output to emerge from the deranged mind of director Seijun Suzuki.

Originally released in 1967, Branded to Kill endured a chequered history, largely due to the dislike of both the film and its director, from the president of Nikkatsu Studio.


The Nikkatsu Corporation are Japan's oldest studio, and shareholders in the country's major television stations.

Suzuki, a war veteran, had originally impressed the studio with his debut, Victory is Mine, and gathered something of a cult following. In a manner that would eventually reflect in the legacy he carries today, film enthusiasts and cineasts began appreciating his unique methodology and distinctive style. As a contracted "B-Movie" director however, he was expected to conform to the company's demands, and deliver acceptable films that played within a safe remit and would be profitable. The increasingly inspired Suzuki however, instead followed his artistic tendencies, culminating with Branded to Kill. Following the completion of the movie, he was then fired by Nikkatsu. Citing a contract breach stemming from the manner in which the move was carried out, Suzuki became famous for then taking legal action against the studio, which gained enormous support from the public. In 1971, he settled, but found himself firmly blacklisted from being able to make films, by the productions companies themselves. Fortunately, his films did continue to increase in reputation and cult following, and he returned behind the camera in 1977 with A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness.

Suzuki has recently been rediscovered globally thanks to the Tarantino-centric cult around his work, which has helped with the distribution of certain work. Branded to Kill is largely regarded though, as his most vital moment.

Film
Hanada is an ice cool contract killer, one of the top within his profession. In Tokyo he meets Kasuga, formerly a Hitman of equal stature, who is now a lowly taxi driver. Kasuga, desperate to get back into the game, asks of Hanada that he pave the way.
Meeting Yakuza boss Yabuhara, Hanada brings Kasuga in on the deal; to escort a client of the Yakuza for 2.5million. Before the job has even begun however, they discover a dead body in their assigned car, and it's clear that something is amiss with the job. Cue a botched operation, and a murder, that results in the movie charting Hanada's descent. We learn about his rather unique obsessions, as a mysterious woman offers him another contract, which could prove to be the genesis of his downfall.

It sounds a little akin to a rather straight-forward "one last job" gangster picture, but nothing could be further from the truth. Filmed in stark, sometimes disorientating black and white, Suzuki's film is a rather extraordinary effort. It's unquestionability one of the most self-consciously cinematic efforts I've seen from the era, which toys with conventions and abstracts them to a sometimes ludicrous, but always audacious extent.

There's a tension right from the outset within this film. Hanada's cool exterior, his thoughts hidden behind his shades, create an enigmatic lead who must be kept at arm's length. The jazzy notes that serve as a musical accompaniment, only add to the inevitability that it's a downward path. As with Killing of a Chinese Bookie, there's a distinct element of sadness to proceedings, underlined by the gentle, almost melancholy soundtrack.

Occasionally, the film does erupt into explosions of violence, ambushes aplenty, are handled with aplomb, even if the odd editing decision during the first set piece confuses initially.
A fire stunt is handled brilliantly though, and is fairly disturbing, though the editing just prior to this sight, again is just frustratingly short of the mark. If the occasional moment of choppiness or less than smooth piecing together though is the film's weakest element, it does little damage in the great scheme of things.

There's also an apparent fasciation with ranking here, with the status and positioning of Hit-men according to their rank. The Number 4 in the business, Koh, is discussed and even pops up, but Kasuga himself is somewhat tragically obsessed with his previous positioning, and drunkenly recollects the "good old days" in his scenes. Kasuga's response to danger threatens to descend into farce though. Hiroshi Minami plays him in a manner that borders on hysterical. As the film becomes more hyperactive and surreal, this would perhaps be more appropriate, but he's a jarring addition to the opening act.

As Hanada though, Joe Shishido carries the picture, conveying a degree of likability amidst moments of utter madness. As he becomes more frazzled, he's only increasingly appealing.
He's also ably supported by the likes of Koji Nanbara and especially Annu Mari. As Misako, she exudes a noirish air of mystery that is both alluring and unsettling.

There are points where Hanada's tale almost feels like a road movie. Between the clients, the Yakuza, the various hit-men he encounters, and the likes of Misako, the woman with a death-wish, there are a cacophony of curious faces that give the impression he is on a journey of some sort, mental or otherwise. This furiously exciting experience is likely to polarize most viewers, but it remains an enormously memorable one that fan of pure cinema should savour.

Extras
As is the norm with Arrow nowadays, this is a delicious Blu-Ray release. Extras include;
- An interview with Director, Seijun Suzuki and an interview with Joe Shishido
-Theatrical Trailers for Trapped in Lust and Branded to Kill
-A Collector's booklet with writings by Jasper Sharp and new Ian MacEwan artwork.

-Trapped in Lust (Aiyoku No Wana)
Bizarrely, this 1973 film is a 73 minute reworking of the movie. Much more soft-core orientated, it's an odd piece that doesn't really satisfy, and one that flows very awkwardly. The violence particularly stands out as unusual without being exciting or carrying much impact. There's some nice imagery though, and it's a fabulous addition here, if even just for curiosity's sake.

Overall

Arrow should be applauded for loading this release of such an obscure world cinema classic.
While Branded to Kill is not the sort of film that will be for everyone (an understatement), it should more than appeal to those with any interest in cinema history. It's also a fun experience for picking out the scenes and elements that have obviously inspired a wide range of filmmakers today.
A worthwhile, nay, vital release from the cannon of a remarkable director.