D:
John Frankenheimer. P: Robert L. Rosen, Ron Beckman. W: Richard Naxwell, John
Sayles. Ph: Kozo Okazaki. M: Jerry Goldsmith. St: Scott Glenn (Rick Murphy),
Toshiro Mifune (Toru Yoshida), Donna Kai Benz (Akiko), Atsuo Nakamura (Hideo
Yoshida), Calvin Jung (Ando)
“You people are crazy. Killin’ each other
over fuckin’ war souvenirs”
Robert
Mitchum experienced it in The Yakuza;
Michael Douglas in Black Rain: the
gradual withering of those derogatory feelings – if not quite the befuddlement
– that every jaded American film character brings with them to Japan, to be
replaced by newfound respect for this alien culture. In this overlooked action
drama it is the turn of Scott Glenn to undergo a conversion, as he becomes embroiled
in a family feud over a pair of priceless samurai swords.
Deadbeat
boxer Rick Murphy is approached by the crippled Toshio Yoshida (Sab Shimono)
and his sister, Akiko, and offered $500 a day to help transport one of the
swords from LA to Kyoto. Immediately upon arrival in Japan, Murphy is ambushed
by gunmen working for super-rich business mogul Hideo Yoshida, his employees’
uncle, who has striven for decades to reunite the swords – known as the Equals
– of which he already has one. Before long Toshio has been killed and Murphy discovers
he’s been escorting a fake sword all along.
Once
Akiko rescues the wounded American and takes him to her father’s martial arts
school, this fish out of water scenario (indeed, Murphy evades Hideo’s goons by
making a run for it through a fish market) broadens to encompass a clash of
cultures, generations, traditions and concepts of honour. Not that breadth
implies depth. The script has Murphy softened up by a perfunctory romance with
Akiko and a quasi-paternal relationship with a young dogsbody. More convincing
is the way he comes to admire the fighting skills and discipline of Toru’s
trainees, who knock some of the arrogance out of this gangling gaijin (the bruising aikido scenes were
coordinated by a young Steven Seagal), and the gravitas of the old warrior
himself. So much so that he spurns the chance to get rich by stealing Toru’s
sword (it had been secreted in Toshio’s wheelchair) on Hideo’s behalf.
The
middle section details Rick’s gradual acculturation. A meal involving live
lobster and other wriggling delicacies is played for laughter at his expense;
later, as repentance for his near-betrayal, he submits to a gruelling trial in
which he is buried up to his neck, exposed to the elements and denied sustenance,
save for a passing beetle, for five days. This earns him the respect of his sensei, who promptly accelerates his
training.
Glenn,
always a square peg in Hollywood, was in transition at the time from character
actor to unconventional leading man. He copes ruggedly with the exacting
physical demands of the role; at the same time, the maturation of Murphy’s
cultural sensibilities and moral values similarly ring true. Less so is the
ease with which this outsider gains Toru’s trust, which makes little sense
except as a means of expediting the narrative. The focus shifts from Murphy’s
alienation to the contrast between the traditional values espoused by Toru,
with his leonine grey locks and anachronistic robes, and the brashness of
modern Japan, represented by his slickly suited brother. Hideo is both ruthless
and rapacious, posited as the embodiment of the country’s evolving status as an
economic powerhouse to rival America. (His firm is said to dwarf General
Motors.)
The
context of the story was to have been Chinese martial arts, but screenwriter
Sayles was obliged to change it when Mifune became available. The actor’s sheer
presence was worth the effort. He commands attention in a role that could
hardly be considered taxing for a man of his abilities, and provides a vital
counterweight to the film’s pulpier tendencies. He even provides flashes of
humour in a script that errs on the solemn side. (The cynical interjections of
Calvin Jung as Hideo’s Japanese-American henchman are welcome for the same
reason.)
Frankenheimer’s
direction doesn’t approach the heights of his Sixties masterpieces. As in French Connection II, Black Sunday and Ronin, however, he demonstrates a flair for sustained action set
pieces. The climax is deliriously entertaining: Yoshida and Murphy storm
Hideo’s hi-tech guarded complex (doubled by the imposing Kyoto International
Conference Centre); swords, throwing stars and arrows pitted against machine
guns; gashes spewing slithering intestines. When Yoshida is wounded by a
gunshot, Rick takes up his sword against Hideo who, despite his scorn for the
old ways, has changed from business suit to robes. It is a brutal and sinew-straining
bout, Murphy improvising with staplers and severed computer cables to nullify
the superior skills of his opponent. After this frantic struggle, honour will
be restored. Kevin Grant
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