By Keri O’Shea
Japan, 1960s: a young man by the name of Jiro ( the effortlessly cool Akira Kobayashi) has just been released after eight years in the big house. No sooner has he walked through the gates, but an approaching man curtly reminds him that, as Jiro was implicated in the death of his younger brother, he needs to watch himself. That’s the kind of world into which Jiro has just emerged – a world of yakuza, of threats and vendettas, but it’s the world he knows, and so he returns back to his ‘family’, the Ichimonji clan.
To his dismay, he arrives to find a clan in disarray. The godfather of the clan is elderly, frail and sick (and I’ll confess at this stage that I have no idea of yakuza terminology is this close to mafia terminology or if something has very definitely been lost in translation somewhere along the way) whilst many of the men, seeing him in this precarious state, have gone about their business elsewhere. It’s clear that there is not much of a family of which to speak here – and Jiro needs to find work, so when he’s offered a chance by the once-rival Hazama clan at running the nearby boom town of Takagawa, he cautiously accepts.
This being a yakuza movie, however, it’s soon clear that Jiro’s new position has thrown him into a precarious situation. To consolidate the Hazama position, there will be many rivals to deal with – many of whom are interested in controlling Takagawa because there’s ready money to be made, thanks to the wealth of surrounding farmland that’s just waiting to be taken from all the terrified farmers who still live and work there. The Aoba gang, essentially a troupe of unprincipled thugs, prove themselves happy to bludgeon and intimidate their way towards their goals; their big rivals, the Tono gang, are sharper-dressed and better-mannered, but not gents by any true definition of the term. So, in order to fulfil his brief for the Hazama and avoid finding himself on the pointy end of a sword, it seems that Jiro will have to tread very carefully – but even his soft tread may not be enough to keep himself out of danger altogether as war breaks out…
As a yakuza movie, this is an entertainingly gritty affair, definitely aiming for realism, with a distinct lack of choreographed fight scenes or particularly lurid detail (although a definite artistic eye is apparent along the way, with some scenes boasting incredibly innovative work indeed). However, in keeping with many other crime dramas from a culture which is always as different as it is recognisable, there are some criminal conventions here which need a bit of figuring out, although the film yields plenty of results as a result. Once you navigate the mire of convoluted rules and behaviours on display, as well as the extreme, codified politeness which goes hand in hand with tyrannical dealings and bloody murders, then this film can be rewarding. However, it’s worth bearing in mind that the most vile behaviour is drawn in pretty broad strokes throughout, thus tying in with the realism angle in some respects, yet also rendering the yakuza gangs as almost cartoonish in their monstrousness in others, as they cheerily torment and assault women (albeit through a range of – mostly – euphemistic 1960s camerawork), recruit card sharps, and generally lie and cheat their way to riches. Quelle change I guess, though at least this is one scenario that social networking won’t be blaming on David Cameron this week…
Perhaps, though, the most interesting thing about this movie (perhaps excepting an appearance by a very young, very meek Meiko Kaji which doesn’t even get a mention in the opening credits) is in its fascinating balance of the urbane and the opulent, the old and the new. This is a modernising Japan, with all of modernisation’s big hitters and poor victims; the city of Takagawa is swallowing up the land on its outskirts, and via the yakuza, it’s displacing the old guard, the old Japan that has been there – as Meiko Kaji’s character Saeko says – ‘for centuries’, and could remain as such if it wasn’t made to change. As kimonos and sharp suits jostle for view in the same shots here, is there a means by which the old guard can still be treated with respect in such a changing world? This becomes Jiro’s predicament, and the catalyst which drives the conflict at the heart of the film. All of this is refracted through some frankly stunning camera-work, deftly demonstrating director Yasuharu Hasebe’s multi-shifting perspectives on the action as it unfolds.
The idea of one man vs. corruption is an old and an established one, but Retaliation manages to carve something of its own out of the premise. Whilst the ‘time capsule’ effect does not necessarily a great movie make, here it’s married effectively to the crime drama at the heart of the plot, and through a range of effective performances Retaliation certainly shows that it has a good deal to offer the curious viewer. As usual, Arrow have presented a worthy version of the film here, with a small range of special features (interviews, stills and a trailer) to accompany the feature itself.
Retaliation is available via Arrow Films from the 11th May 2015.