THE STORY – “Broken Rage” is a two-part film from legendary director Takeshi Kitano. The first half is a gritty action film that unfolds in a dark criminal underworld revolving around a hitman and his struggle for survival when he finds himself pinned between the police and the yakuza. The second follows the same story, but transformed into comedy, a parody of the first half in its entirety, scene by scene.
THE CAST – Beat Takeshi, Tadanobu Asano & Nao Ômori
THE TEAM – Takeshi Kitano (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 62 Minutes
Has a director ever parodied their own movies? Maybe Sergio Leone with “My Name is Nobody,” the Terrence HIll-Henry Fonda Spaghetti Western he wrote and produced, which pushed to utter absurdity the already fairly absurd extremes of the genre he created. But usually, when we talk about a director becoming a parody of themselves, it’s an inadvertent phase and meant as a damning criticism. But with “Broken Rage,” veteran Japanese director and Golden Lion winner Kitano “Beat” Takeshi has made a film that is as irreverent and grotesque as it is funny and surreal.
Takeshi plays Mr. Mouse, a shambling old geezer who gets hit jobs from a coffee shop intermediary funded by a mysterious M. He then dresses up in deadly cool threads, dons a pair of shades, and coolly dispatches his target with easy violence before making a nonchalant getaway as the sirens approach. When the police finally nab him, they beat him up and force him to go undercover for the price of his freedom. With the police constantly shadowing him, Mouse must infiltrate the gang and start manipulating them.
Even at this point in the film, there’s a sense that something is slightly off. The dialogue is as literal as a lyric from a Sparks song, the cliches of the gangster film are played out with a smidgen too much familiarity, and there are inconsistencies and odd moments that suggest not all is right here. Takeshi – with his usual gait and implacable expression – seems to be playing such a frequent part that it feels not only as if he could play it in his sleep but also that he truly is playing it in his sleep. His clothes and sunglasses look like he has just walked off the set of the “Outrage” trilogy (2010-2017). Even the title, “Broken Rage,” plays on those previous films. However, none of this will prepare the audience for what is about to happen, and if you like surprises, it’s best to stop reading this review.
The narrative seemingly ends, and we have a shot of the city at night similar to the one that opened the film. But now, the camera skews off at a crazy angle, and a title card comes up noting that this is a “Spin-Off.” What we then get is a repeat of the first half of the film, but now played as an outrageous slapstick, surreal, and occasionally infantile comedy. Now, when Takeshi pulls a gun, it’s pointed the wrong way, and he’s Clousseau-like – in that he can’t seem to cross a room without falling on his arse. There are strange sound effects, clever sight gags, and utterly bizarre moments. Some of the inconsistencies of the original storyline are brought up and argued about. The absurd moments we forgive genre films for are exaggerated. Indeed, this is a reductio absurdum of a yakuza movie. A drug deal becomes a game of musical chairs.
Takeshi has always had a very strange career. In Japan, he’s known as a popular comedian and TV show creator, and in the rest of the world, his career as a hardman gangster actor and arthouse film director is paramount. In Japan, it took him a long time to be taken seriously, both as a dramatic actor and a director. When he appeared on screen, Japanese audiences would automatically start laughing, much to his horror. Only when he won the Golden Lion in Venice for “Hana-bi” (1997) did he begin to be taken seriously in his own country as a director. And yet, now, Takeshi appears so confident that he can do both in the same movie, taking the mickey out of his serious films with a joyous verve. There are even jokes at intervals where messageboards come on screen, criticizing the film for being too short or not having enough kabooms. As for being too short, at 66 minutes, Takeshi directed a film that was exactly one minute longer than Variety’s stated absolute minimum to be considered a feature film.
With so many older directors presenting their late works at buttock-punishing lengths, Beat Takeshi (77 years old) has decided enough is as good as a feast. And what a wise idea that is.
