J. Mark Price
Staff Writer
Fireworks is a brutally effective film by Japanese movie-man Takeshi Kitano. The use of subtitles does little to dilute the raw power of the film due to across-the-board strengths in writing, acting and directing.
The film manages to shift between back-to-back scenes that draw out one extreme emotion after another, while somehow maintaining a pervading sense of control, even understatement.
This is very difficult to achieve and to the great credit of the filmmakers, considering the nature of some of the closely packed scenes. One moment the main character's cop-partner is being gunned down in one of the most realistic scenes of gratuitous violence I've ever seen on film. The next frame takes us to a beach where the now-paralyzed detective sits wheelchair-bound, talking to his friend, explaining that his wife and daughter have left him now that he is "useless."
Next the main character, Nishi, is shown in a bar, talking over the shooting that left his friend and partner paralyzed. When two criminals show up to confront Nishi about a bad debt, the scene explodes with violence and ends with a pair of chopsticks making their way through one of the gentlemen's eye sockets and up the same pathway as the optic nerve.
Then we find Nishi sharing a quiet, heart-wrenching moment with his beautiful young wife who is dying of leukemia and is without much time.
And so the film proceeds, moving from one realistically violent frame into a place so filled with impending loss and sorrow that you nearly long for a quick return to the film's brutal side.
The reason this film is so affecting, and ultimately works so well, is that all the extremes make sense. All of the violence, as intense as it can sometimes be, seems warranted, and there is a necessity in its finality. The harrowing sadness of Nishi's wife's illness is never boringly overplayed or sickeningly sweet.
It is all measured out in careful doses, applied with just the right tone and allows the blades of emotion to splice deep into your heart.
One scene finds Nishi's wife, Miyuki, cupping water from the bank of a lake and pouring it into a cup of freshly plucked flowers. For a moment, it is pleasant to watch, in spite of what we know is her quickly approaching doom. The sun is setting over the water and the young woman is quite beautiful in her obvious joy at such a simple pleasure.
Moments later, a stranger walks by and comments, "You cannot water dead flowers. It's too late. They are already dead for certain." The change of expressions on her face is heartbreaking.
True to the film's form, we see Nishi walk up behind the man, having overheard his unknowingly cruel comment to his wife. Nishi calmly beats the man to a bloody pulp, the sunset still prevalent in the background.
In this cycle of violence, we see the desperation, anger and sadness of impending loss felt by Nishi. You almost wind up feeling sorry for him as he dispenses the senseless violence.
Kitano effectively heightens the emotions each time around, as the film goes quietly screaming toward its harrowing ending.
Kitano delivers a solid, controlled performance as Nishi, but the real stars are his script, tone and tight direction. As the final minutes approach, you realize Kitano has not pulled punches up to this point, and he is not likely to start now. Take a deep breath and enjoy.
Rated
Not Rated
Running Time
103 min
Playing
Landmark Greenway Theatre