| psycho d |
03-29-2011 12:19 PM |
Ichi (2008). Today's review is fueled by a mastodon migraine that is threatening to evolve into a full blown seizure. But my ailing skull has nothing to do with this wonderful tangent from the original Ichi series. An interesting take for sure, Ichi is its own movie and for detractors to lament that its not another Ichi clone is itself lamentable. Another annoying complaint concerned the bad guys and their over the top antics. These are probably the same clowns that flame Takashi Miike's Yakuza. Personally, I think that these whiners were all PMSing together when they saw it and nothing but ice cream and a litany of complaints could make them happy.
The story was a nicely designed breath of fresh air. While it relied heavy on flashbacks, it was done in such a beautiful fashion that it seemed more an aesthetic marvel than a cinematic crutch. Where some of its characters remain rather flat, it is not so much out of poor storytelling but rather to reveal that character's repressed existence, and this serves to emote that any chink in their psychological armor might cause the whole enchilada to unravel.
The acting sold its characters with aplomb. Haruka Ayase is stunningly beautiful in her role, despite her being callus and emotionally shut down. Takao Ohsawa makes for the perfect underdog whose ultimate archenemy, played in outrageous fashion by Shidō Nakamura, culminates in a denouement that remains true to Japanese culture. The rest of the cast is just as solid, all the way down to the pint-sized custodian of the titular Ichi.
The technicalities were all handled with a subdued precision. The direction definitely gave this movie its own distinction, and Fumihiko Sori was not afraid to deviate from the expected formula in order to create his own version of this classic story. The photography was nothing short of compelling. Some of this movie's detractors may have disparaged this flick as slow due to the camera's determination to linger on a character when his or her emotional outpourings had to first overcome the character's repugnance to show emotional weakness. When there was action, the fight choreography proved to be gripping, smoothly flashing back and forth between standard and slow motion. The CGI blood was a bit ostensible, but the classic genre from which this arose were blatantly obsessed with flying blood so maybe this was more an homage than a smudge. The editing, on the other hand, was not ostensible, and in this case lends weight to a worthy editing crew. The score was fitting, sparse and hauntingly beautiful.
The ending was a sort of compromise from the normal Japanese fatalism, but in this case it leaves its audience fully satisfied to have remained through its two hour runtime.
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