REVIEW: DVD Release: Sonatine

Film: Sonatine
Release date: 11th May 2009
Certificate: 18
Running time: 94 mins
Director: Takeshi Kitano
Starring: Beat Takeshi, Ren Osugi, Susumu Terajima, Aya Kokumai, Tetsu Watanabe
Genre: Crime/Action/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Second Sight
Format: DVD
Country: Japan

Sonatine, a gangster film set in Tokyo and Okinawa, seeks to take the Yakuza genre in a sideways direction. What is a gangster to do when he has spare time on his hands?

Starring Beat Takeshi as Murakawa, the writer/director/editor and overall one-man-film crew heads a territory of Tokyo under the rule of his boss and overall crime lord (uncredited). Beat and his gang are to make their way to Okinawa and mediate a conflict between his extended 'family' and the indigenous gangsters on the Island.

From the moment the gang arrive, it is made clear that mediation is under way, and their presence will only subvert any progress for a tentative peace. As such, the group are relocated, or forced to a beach house and left to amuse themselves.

Friendships are garnered through close proximity, which leads the gang to seek any activity available, including emulating cardboard sumo wrestling games, firework forts and some rather nifty dancing on the part of the more aged Yakuza in the gang. Asking if this game playing were not a little childish, one of the gang receives a joyful smile back from Murakawa, and the games continue.

Murakawa, by chance, rescues a somewhat odd girl, who subsequently becomes fascinated with and keeps returning to the gang – Murakawa, in particular. Her bond with Murakawa opens up the opportunity for redemption not only for himself but the gang as a whole….


While this film is touted as a gangster film, it leaves out entirely the conflict that so often predicates such a genre – for example, there are no police. This is a film that centres its attention solely on the activities of a rag tag group of crooks. Conflict does ensue eventually, and blood is spilled, in the form of a hired fisherman/assassin sent to wipe out our happy gang, but for the most part jokes are enacted, and general oddness persists (listening to the soundtrack, you’d be forgiven for hearing some Exorcist overtones, which is completely out of place, but oddly enough fits comfortably within the Kitano Takeshi framework).

One of the earliest and most widely received of the director’s extensive catalogue; the film has a sense of joy and childlike humour that infests (happily) the script, while still offering that violent and surprising aspect of gangland activities. We are treated to a series of sociological acts, Murakawa's penchant for using live bullets in a fake fire-fight, in contrast with his playful taunts about his friend's wayward dress sense.

Performances come subtly from Beat’s supporting cast, many of whom will reappear in subsequent films, and are typified in scenes where dialogue is secondary to the action. The relationship between two recently introduced Yakuza shows the bond of ‘brotherhood’, and while they lark about repeatedly, their understanding that they are essentially on an enforced holiday from their regular gangster duties rarely leaves them, with the older of the two friends pointing out that respect is a constant to the younger man. Murakawa and the girl's relationship, and the games played by them all, seek to humanise and endear the murderous gang to the viewer.

Our love interest is essential to the dynamic of the gang and to Beat's character. While he shows a clear waning towards his chosen career path, this vacation from the norm seems to invigorate both himself and his ‘brothers’. The wayward girl, rescued by Murakawa early on in their holiday, creates a random bond towards him and succeeds in becoming part of the fixtures. There is no worry on their part about her involvement in the gang (possible law complications) and less shown in Murakawa, who even allows her the pleasure of 'having a go' with an automatic rifle.

The location is minimal and the cinematography does little new. In saying that, this is essential. Style never detracts from the story, but the reluctance to glamorise this film only capitalises on what there is, namely a star turn from Beat (smiles that surprise and worry you in their unexpected delivery), but also a jumpy, poetic approach that endears the viewer to both the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ guys. It's the men's acceptance that when they have fought, it is over. No reprisals.

With minimal dialogue, the script is light but covers all the bases with ease, whilst direction is subtle on Beat’s part, but adept. Short, slow, languid shots bind you to the characters and their environment. You can feel the film in a most palpable way. Despite its setting on the other side of the world, Okinawa gives a sense of home, with understated use of light and colour.

You have also to appreciate the wardrobe design - 'Hawaiian' T-shirts raise the biggest smile. Beat, as ever, makes light work of a possible limited wardrobe budget, and revels in his non tie wearing suit combo that only adds to the comical brilliance of this piece.


A small cast film that addresses violence in a charming and original manner. Not the kind of gangster film you'd ever expect to see, but a delight from beginning to end. DWI

SPECIAL FEATURE: DVD Review: Afterlife

Film: Afterlife
Running time: 118 mins
Director: Hirokazu Koreeda
Starring: Arata, Erika Oda, Susumu Terajima, Takashi Naitô, Kyôko Kagawa
Genre: Drama/Comedy
Country: Japan

This title has not been released in the UK.

Hirokazu Kore-Eda deals with themes of memory and death with a subtle realism that relies on the ability of his cast to provoke a hypnotic but highly emotional cinematic style. With Afterlife, he continues to explore these themes.

Afterlife works from the premise that when you die you are transported to what resembles a Government office building. Once there, you are given a week in which you have to choose your perfect memory. Once decided; the team assembled work tirelessly to re-create your memory on film, before screening it in a specially constructed cinema. The screening process then transports the viewer into that chosen memory for all eternity. Heaven is a film of your perfect moment looped forever.

The film charts one week in the various offices of the building. The recently deceased sit ponderously, charting their memories for their perfect moment. Some remember that perfect breeze, others trips to Disneyland, and some simply cannot/refuse to choose. But this week’s new arrivals start to provoke debate amongst the people that work there.

It transpires that the office building is staffed by people who could not decide on their perfect memories. It becomes clear that Shiori, the only female counsellor is in love with her fellow co-worker. However, when the object of her affections decides he has discovered his perfect memory, Shiori has to come to terms with the fact that death is not the end of heartbreak. That even the dead can lose someone…


Kore-Eda handles this supernatural premise with a realistic flair that means the fantastical nature of the story does not get in the way of the real human emotions of the film. The hand-held camera, natural lighting and semi-improvisational performances allow for the cast to create fully-rounded, likeable characters, which means that the odd flash of the supernatural, the misty entrance way, and the chiming of the funeral bells are all the more effective.

This is a film not interested in action, but on memory - on the nature of the mind. A large majority of the film is one camera staying in unflinching stillness, as the interviewees trace their memories back to their perfect moment. The camera becomes an instrument of confessional, the audience being spoken to directly. This is not a ponderous narcissistic art-project, but a film that deliberately tries to engage with its audience. The film ends with the same shot repeated on an empty chair; it is here that we are encouraged to think about our own memories, to take part in the discussion. This is a film which does not actively seek to alienate but rather encourages participation.

However, Afterlife will polarise its audience. It’s slow pace and lack of spectacle will seem intellectually stimulating to some and boring to others. But looking closer at the film reveals a rich use of symbolism, which not only discusses memory, death and love but also the very nature of film itself. One of the sub-texts of the film is Kenji who is a man completely unable to choose his perfect memory. To assist him, he is screened hours of videotape that seem to be a documentation of his entire life. What becomes apparent is that the staff at the facility could very easily just take the actual videotapes, the recordings of the actual event, and screen that. But they don’t. Instead they indulge in memory, how the event is remembered, not how it actually happened. Cinema becomes, as it has for decades, a way to idealise the past - an ethnographic study of the imagination, in which cultural, personal and political identity is constructed not from any degree of truth, but through imaginings, feelings and personal interpretation. The films pace may be slow but its interest in humanity stops it becoming ponderous. Its anchor is a study of memory and what that means to us. The suggestion here is that memory, like film, is illusionary, and yet beautiful.

Even the love story between the two consolers is allowed to slowly emerge from the sub-text, becoming part of the main narrative arc without a grand melodramatic show of emotion. The relationship is one of quiet un-requited love, and is all the more affecting because it refuses to indulge in the tears melodramatic cries that most Western audiences are used to. It emerges over time, and then disappears - leaving only hurt and empty space.


Without using morbid sensationalism, or the spectacularly grotesque that haunt so many other films about the afterlife, Kore-Eda has created a film that is a subtle and absorbing celebration of life. A celebration which shows cinema as a pathway between worlds and loss as a necessary, even beautiful part of life. AC