By Justin Aylward
Kiyoshi Kurosawa, one of Japan’s most popular film directors of recent years, has made numerous classics including “Cure” (1997), “Pulse” (2001), and “Tokyo Sonata” (2008). Although many of his best films have received international acclaim, there remain a few underseen TV-Movies waiting to be discovered by audiences around the world. One film is “The Revenge: A Visit from Fate”, a short but impactful crime drama about one man’s descent into apathetic mania. If Kurosawa is respected as a unique director, known as much for creating ominous atmospheres and casual violence in his most successful work, this forgotten yakuza classic is sure to remind audiences of the man’s exceptional flare for crafting dread and angst.
“The Revenge: A Visit from Fate” stars Sho Aikawa as Anjo, a tough but moralistic cop with a traumatic past. Anjo witnessed his parent’s murder years earlier at the hands of a local yakuza gang, while sheltering in a small cupboard upstairs. One gang member, taking pity on the innocent child, spared the boy’s life, leaving him an orphan. Years later, Anjo is happily married to Saeko (Itsumi Osawa) and respected at work for his refusal to carry a gun on the job. But his robust demeanour belies a deeper rage. ‘It’s not because I don’t want to shoot anyone,’ he says, ‘but because I do.’
When an arrest goes wrong and a suspect kills himself, Anjo with his wiry colleague, Hirasawa (Fumiyo Kohinata) uncover a rehabilitation group, established to help recently released criminals return to society. The group is led by a fretful Miyaji (Daikei Shimizu) and his hobbling, thorny sister (Yoshiko Yura) whose stiff features are as threatening as any weapon. They are partnered with their piggish brother, a violent sociopath, played by Naomasa Musaka. But the group are less charitable than their mission suggests. In cahoots with the Oishi Yakuza gang – the same gang that murdered Anjo’s family – Miyaji and his family are supplying hitmen to the criminal underworld. Soon, Anjo is thrust into a chaotic whirlwind of murder, prostitution, and incest that sees him confronted by his horrific past and some familiar faces. His wife is faced with danger, his morals are proven worthless against the grubby yakuza, and the law is rendered meaningless when emotions boil over.
Anjo does more digger, and uncovers evidence of a criminal racquet with ties to his own police force. The crimes might be closer to his past than he imagined, and pose a greater threat than he can protect against. The final confrontation is a mad dash where everyone lines up to take shots. The false sense of order negotiated between the cops and the yakuza is shown to be a pale façade. Anjo has nothing left but indignant rage, and a new perspective on fate. Finally, the film leaves you cold, wondering how chance can grant you good fortune or bad luck. Altogether, in just eighty-five minutes, Kurosawa depicts the contagious rot of criminal activity that spares no one, not even the most dogged cop.
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Sho Aikawa lends a rough and energetic edge to his performance. Despite his short stature, he walks tall, speaks low, and knows how to use his hands. His wife, Saeko, in only a few scenes, conveys a gentle, careworn manner. Much has gone unsaid between them in their marriage, and it’s all the more resonant for her quiet tone of voice. Among the many crooks is Chiharu, played by Naomasa Musaka. He’s a sweaty and callous bruiser, equally at ease with food in his mouth and a gun in his hand. You can almost smell him on screen. His sister, Tokie, lingers quietly, preferring cat-like stares for words. Actress Yoshika Yura leaves dark shadows in the few moments where she appears.
The film is a stark and blunt depiction of how violence rarely subsides, but simmers in people, waiting for the right – or wrong – circumstances to erupt. Anjo is a seemingly sturdy man, unfazed by thugs on the street and attentive to his wife at home. But he can’t shake the terror of his childhood trauma, and is left numb at the thought of more needless death. Almost everywhere you look in Kurosawa’s Tokyo, there are varying levels of a corrupt hierarchy, with the cops and yakuza vying over the top spot. There’s prostitution, drug-dealing, murder, all organized by slick, suit-wearing thugs. Then there’s the short, compact cop who refuses to carry a gun. What chance does the man have, and how can he bring things under control without tipping over the edge of his own sanity?
Takahida Shibata’s creates a feeling of inevitable decline with his gliding camera. He films gunshots and hammer blows the way Bergman captured faces, with a direct and unflinching scope. What is especially unnerving about his compositions is how he crafts a sleek and graceful rhythm in the process of depicting bloodshed. You would be forgiven for thinking you have imagined the violence on screen, such is the sudden and detached way he orchestrates the action. The Tokyo of “The Revenge…” is a dank back alley of the greater metropolitan area, with an array of brown and green hues so potent you can almost smell the stench of squalor. The musical score by Hikaru Yoshida is a subliminal march, rising to a frantic beat, perfectly matched to Kan Suzuki’s measured edits.
“The Revenge: A Visit from Fate” is a spare and bleak crime drama, that is a striking delineation of the fine line between justice and rightness. It may be a short film, and one forgotten among Kurosawa’s many internationally-renowned works, but it’s a resonant narrative feature that prioritises silences over speech and meaning over action.
