Violent Cop Review

Violent Cop is the first film from off-beat auteur Takeshi Kitano, a left-field Japanese filmmaker who has become one of the East's most uncompromising and original directors. Kitano shot to fame in his native Japan as part of a stand-up comedy duo, which lead him to roles in a number of comedy pictures. Violent Cop started its life as a comedy, but when the original director fell ill Takeshi stepped in and unleashed the bleak, violent, and darkly humorous talent for which he is so renowned.

Takeshi re-wrote the script heavily, and as both star and director his creative control was typically all encompassing. The very first shot of Violent Cop is microcosm of his filmmaking style. The slack-jawed grin of a Nipponese hobo fills the screen, as he picks delightedly at a can of processed food. The quiet comedy is shattered, however, when a gang of bicycle riding youths arrive and begin to terrorize the startled tramp. Their brutal and unprovoked attack the first evidence of a jarring juxtaposition between funny and brutal that Kitano performs so expertly.

The titular cop himself, Azuma, is as aggressive as the title suggests. Every criminal in his path is met with unrelenting physical punishment. This is not comic book violence; Azuma's dangerous policing is short, sharp, and shocking. It's a dangerous trait that leaves him teetering on the brink of insanity.

In many ways Violent Cop feel's like Kitano's take on Dirty Harry. Clint Eastwood's 70's badass was a no nonsense police detective who always got the job done - more often that not via the fist or the gun. Azuma is Dirty Harry reborn unceremoniously into real-world Japan. The whole picture even has the feel a of a 1970's cop thriller, with warm fuzzy cinematography and urbanized concrete locations. But in Takeshi's world, dolling out such relentless punishment is a symptom of a warped mind.

Kitano spends much of the film partnered with a rookie detective, played with an endearing innocence by Makoto Ashikawa. His wide-eyed naivety is the perfect foil for Takeshi's introverted old-timer. Azuma appears to delight in catching his young charge off guard with flashes of black humour and dangerously cavalier law enforcement. Maiko Kawakami is also on hand as Akuma's mentally damaged younger sister, but her brief screen time offers up little more than wistful looks and incomprehensible patter.

The story takes no wild and unexpected twists, but remains almost completely unpredictable. It feels like Azuma is a real man in a real world, a universe were the possibilities are almost endless. Upon reflection his increasingly maniacal behaviour is headed in only one direction, but caught up in the flow of it all the narrative is refreshingly difficult to foresee.

The subtitles are a disappointment, with patches of dialogue left seemingly untranslated. There is a sizable difference between the length of sentences in Japanese and English, but even so it often feels as if you're missing out on a few lines. Things are not so dire as to massively detract from a good picture, but it is a recurring annoyance.

At the film progresses Azuma becomes so mired in the blood he has spilt, and so withdrawn from reality, that he becomes a little difficult to engage with. Kitano gifts him with an implacable expression that seems to block any emotional investment. But before it can become a major stumbling block the action ramps up and film approaches its climax. Overall, Azuma's outlandish and sociopathic behaviour make for a fantastic study of the stock violent 70's police hero thrashing his way towards disaster.

Joseph Ewens...