Confessions Of A Dog, the most controversial Japanese film of the century, is finally out for release in the UK today. As soon as I saw that it had been banned in Japan, I snapped up the review copy. I’ve endured some soul wrenching violence, tentacle rape and musical zombies in my time – all from films released without a hitch in the land of the rising sun, so I was very curious to see what kind of material one has to include to get your film outlawed over there.
It turns out, the film wasn’t actually banned. The Japanese rating system doesn’t have a basis in law, so it was perfectly legal to possess, watch or screen the film. However, due to the subject matter, and the main theatrical distributors being uneasy about repercussions from the local police, the film was only released theatrically in 2010 – five years after post production wrapped on the movie. Essentially, the “Banned In Japan” label is just for marketing purposes – and it works. I’ll forgive the distribution company, as the more people who get to see this movie, by whatever means, the better.
The film charts the rise, and ultimate demise, of anti-hero Takeda (Shun Sugata - Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Ichi The Killer), a lowly beat policeman who, initially, refuses to engage in his colleagues’ abuse of their power. Other policemen think nothing of pulling up underage girls, threatening to charge them with a minor infractions (such as cutting school), and eliciting sexual favours from them in return for letting them go free. So, from the offset the tone is set – the majority of Tokyo police force are depicted as despicable rapists, cushy in the knowledge that they are free to do as they please, with no repercussions. They OWN the citizens, and the police’s “old boy” network protects their own.
This doesn’t go unnoticed by his superiors – seeing that he’s a by the book cop, and superficially an unintelligent giant of a man who could be easy to mould, his chief promotes him to CID. Then the real action starts.
Takeda proves to be the perfect lackey. He does his masters bidding without question, obeying orders to take bribes, protect Yakuza, and assumes responsibility of all investigations conducted in a corrupt manner – to take the heat off his commanding officer. To show the extent of his malleability, Takeda even starts smoking on his chief’s insistence, and fully intends to name his newborn daughter using the suggestion his chief provided (his wife protests this, and names their child herself).
The man is an obedient dog, truly living up to the film’s title.
All the while, the Japanese press are systemically ignoring any evidence of police corruption, depending on press releases given to them once a case is closed to report crime news. When the Police PR spokesman greets them, they clamour around him like hungry scavengers until he throws the press releases amongst them, and they beat each other back to get their own copy, hyenas on a rotting carcass. While the imagery isn’t subtle, it proves to be very effective.
Bar owner, and renegade freelance journalist Kusama (Jun’ichi Kawamoto - The Knot) has long been wanting to expose the police force as the biggest protection racket in Japan – just another group of Yakuza making profit off drugs, gambling and prostitution. The first time he comes up against Takeda, his intentions are far from noble. He acknowledges the hypocrisy of the police force, but instead of wanting to expose them, his true motive is profit through blackmail. This leads to him being at first arrested, then beaten senseless by faceless goons as a warning.
Five years pass, and the conflicted character that is Takeda has become cynical and exceptionally efficient in his role as a corrupt cog in the law enforcement system. We see him beat suspects into submission, visit underage prostitutes, and protect Yakuza as a bodyguard for hire during their business dealings.
Meanwhile, Kusama has been biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to really blow the lid on the police force – this time money is not on the agenda. He wants to to act as a whistleblower for Japanese society, lifting up the scab for all to see.
The film culminates in a 6 minute speech from Takeda that embodies the true spirit of AgitProp. It’s direct address, to the camera and neatly sums up the main premise of the film. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe throughout, as it is really powerful stuff.
This film is to Japan what Serpico was to the NYPD. Director Gen Takahashi and his co-writer, journalist Yû Terasawa, have based their story on real events, court reports and victim testimony to create this film. The characters may be fictional, but the events of the movie are based in fact. At over three hours long it should feel like a grind to sit through, yet I found myself glued to the screen as the events of the film unfolded. Admittedly, I am a huge Japanophile (not as dirty as it sounds), and anything about Japanese culture, good or bad, interests me.
The only real criticism’s I have of this release are the quality of the picture and subtitles. The picture is grainy at times, and presents an almost video camera feel – though this may very well be intentional. As for the subs, the translation can be a bit shaky, and there are a few mistakes littered throughout the film – plus, anytime someone speaks in Korean or Mandarin, the viewer needs eagle eyes to read the english text over the Japanese. In my opinion, this is no big deal. The story is strong enough for the viewer to forgive these slight faults – if Brecht can produce effective theatre on an empty stage, Takahashi can film on a phone, for all I care.
The special features included on this 2 disc set include an interview with the director, a Q and A session and a panel discussion of the film, plus the original trailer (which you can watch below). These provide some valuable insight into the trials and tribulations of shooting an independent film in Japan, and how controversial political issues can affect the manner in which said film is received.
I can’t recommend this film enough, whether you’re new to Japanese Cinema, or a die-hard Japanophile like myself. Not only is it an indictment of the Japanese police, but an indictment of a society where the individual is suppressed for the benefit of the masses.
5/5
Confessions Of A Dog is released today, Monday 14th March, via Third Window Films
