HanaBi

Takeshi Kitano, Japan, 1997, 103 minutes

Since his directorial debut in 1989, Violent Cop, Kitano has remained amongst the most unique and influential filmmakers working today. For Hana-Bi (Fireworks), his seventh feature, he contributed also as writer, editor and lead actor. Our multi-talented artisan plays Nishi, a retired cop, who still feels unwarranted guilt after leaving a stakeout that left his partner a paralytic and another policeman in the morgue. His wife is chronically ill, and has a perpetually near-silent demeanour. With huge debts to local gangsters that a pension can't hope to pay off, Nishi decides that the suffering of his wife and friend can only be eased through illegal means. His violent past is illuminated frequently, reminding us that even a veritable anti-hero must pave a way to repentance. The extraordinary path he takes will delight fans of the director's black humour, and astonish the unfamiliar.

Kitano's films are renowned for their minimalist dialogue and warm-hearted undertones that also act well as social commentary. His bravura style of filmmaking, particularly the portrayal of violence through interspersed and sudden moments, has been praised throughout a successful career. While his earlier films tended to lack a cohesive storyline, the narrative here is meticulously crafted. Hana-Bi features breathtaking camera-work and a beguiling score by regular Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. The musical interludes match the editing to such overwhelming effect that a comparison to the collaborations of Sergio Leone and Ennio Morricone seems apt. Kitano's moving performance here owes much to a near-fatal accident prior to filmmaking, and in Hana-Bi he clearly shows that the contours of his face can convey more than mere words. This is a haunting yet highly lyrical story, and one of the greatest works of modern Japanese cinema.

Review by Chay Williamson
Written for EUFS Programme Autumn 2007

A train station, bustling with commuters, people buying papers, people wandering through, Inspector Nishi ('Beat' Takeshi) bursts through a paper stall, wrestling a suspect to the ground. Nishi is beaten away, citizens flee the scene, two more policemen enter the fray dragging the suspect to the floor. A gunshot rings out and blood fountains in slow motion from a cop, he rolls away, defeated. Another blast, two more, and the second law officer is shrugged aside as dead weight. As the suspect takes aim, Nishi calmly unloads his gun into him, his face unwavering as he continues to fire into the suspects corpse.

Hana-Bi (Fireworks) is the first of Takeshi Kitano's films to receive real critical acclaim outside of Japan. His previous films (Violent Cop, Boiling Point, Sonatine) all revolve around gang violence and the code of the Yakuza, however although this film is similarly violent, it manages to be one of the most beautiful Japanese films I have ever seen.

Nishi has simply lost himself in a world of debt and self loathing. Blaming himself for the crippling of one of his men and the death of another, he sets out on a final holiday with his terminally ill wife. He visits his wheelchair bound friend who, having been left by his family, is depressed and has started to paint to try to come to terms with his emotions. Kitano presents this somewhat autobiographically, as he was involved in a near fatal motorcycle accident in 1994, and during his recovery started to paint (all the paintings in the film are his).

The film balances a melancholy story with offbeat humour and spectacular violence to be deep and insightful; you delve into a culture where open emotion is not shown. Brilliantly shot in Kitano's unique style with long lingering shots and empty frames, Hana-Bi is a beautiful and sad, but uplifting film.

Review by George Williamson
Written for EUFS Programme Spring 2002