GATE OF FLESH - DVD review

Back in 1964 Seijun Suzuki's films still made sense, and it's a darned shame.

Suzuki is perhaps Japan's ultimate B-movie auteur, master of the yakuza and exploitation genres and a unique visual stylist. His movies crackle with garish colors, free jazz riffs, off-kilter framings and delirious stagings that render the story little more than an afterthought. Good thing too because Suzuki has never demonstrated any particular talent for constructing a narrative, a limitation he turned to his advantage as he grew into his craft. He is probably best known for his late 1960s films "Tokyo Drifter" (1966) and "Branded to Kill" (1967) which are so mesmerizing to watch you can easily overlook the fact that you have no idea what the heck is going on in either of them. Somebody shoots somebody and somebody else chases somebody else, but Suzuki doesn't even make a feint in the direction of continuity editing, preferring instead to jar the viewer with one inexplicable shot after another. The spaces in Suzuki's films are so disjointed you can barely even tell whether two people are standing in the same room at the same time. And it's wonderful. All the best moments in Suzuki's films come when he casts narrative aside like the unwanted burden that it is and indulges his pop art fantasies wherever they might lead him. The culmination of this approach comes in the nearly impenetrable and utterly gorgeous "Pistol Opera" (2000).

In "Gate of Flesh" (1964), however, Suzuki hadn't yet fully embraced his anti-narrative mojo. The film tells the story of a group of prostitutes in post-WW 2 Tokyo. The prostitutes are not exactly cut from the "Pretty Woman" cloth. Sen (Satoko Kasai) proudly displays her tattoo and snarls at anyone who gets in her way. Mino (Kayo Matsuo) drinks and cusses like a sailor while well-rounded Roku (Tomiko Ishii) stares blankly as time passes her by, like it always has and like it always will. The girls are nasty, dirty, smelly, rude and crude and that seems to be exactly the way their johns like it.

The girls adhere to a strict code: never give it away for free. Selling your body is a business; doing it for free just makes you a slut. Anyone who violates this rule will be brutally beaten and the girls enjoy enforcing their own brand of street justice. Suzuki jokes in the interview included on the DVD that the studio just wanted a film with half-naked girls getting tied up and beaten; he certainly delivers on that front.

The stability of this savage slut society is challenged by several newcomers. Innocent pretty-girl Machiko (Misako Tominaga) never quite fits in with the group while fallen angel Maya (Yumiko Nogawa) grows angrier each day as she obsesses over her brother's death in the war. The major disruption, however, occurs when soldier-turned-thief Shin (Joe Shishida) sneaks into their underground lair one night. The muscle-bound rogue quickly becomes the center of attention for the entire clique, stirring up jealousy and eventually setting off a full-blown whore war that leaves nobody unscathed.

Suzuki, aided by set designer Takeo Kimura, depicts post-war Tokyo as a catacomb of narrow slums choked by a mass of human flesh. People literally lay shoulder to shoulder in the streets and pedestrians have to step around them to get anywhere. American G.I.s stride like conquering heroes through the throngs, demanding respect and receiving it from everyone except the girls who are willing to stoop pretty low, but not so low as to sleep with an American. This Tokyo is a city of squalor and utter desperation without even a glimmer of hope on the horizon; it is made all the more real by the overt artificiality of Kimura's theatrical sets.

As always, Suzuki's visuals are dazzling. Each of the women is identified by a different color dress and is often filmed against a matching background: violent red for Sen, pale yellow for Roku, pastel purple for Mino and so on. As the title suggests, the film practically pulsates with living, breathing flesh though, perversely enough, hunky Joe Shishida is given one of the few true nude scenes (usually the nudity is just barely, and not at all tastefully, covered up by conveniently intervening objects in the foreground).

Yet as magnificent as some of Suzuki's shots are, the images, which in other Suzuki films take full flight, are weighted down by the demands of a rather dreary and unconvincing narrative. Suzuki tries to develop Maya as a character but never quite succeeds; her seduction of a well-meaning American priest is particularly implausible. When the other girls turn on both Machiko and May, the punishment they mete out is more perfunctory than perverse and not a fraction as titillating as Suzuki can be at his naughtiest. Likewise, Shin's ultimate tragic fate is too calculated and doesn't carry the emotional payoff necessary to make the final scenes truly resonate. "Gate of Flesh" was, however, a rare box office success for Suzuki; Japanese audiences living in the rebuilt and thriving Tokyo of 1964 still remembered what it was like just a decade and a half before when a venerable empire seemed like it was in permanent ruins.

Though he was forced into temporary retirement in the 1970s in Japan because of conflicts with Nikkatsu studio, Suzuki's international influence grew over the years. You have almost certainly seen many Suzuki-influenced shots without knowing it. In "Ghost Dog," Jim Jarmusch lifts a shot (where Forrest Whitaker shoots a man through a drainpipe) directly from "Branded to Kill." Remember that cool shot in "Reservoir Dogs" where they all walk along the train tracks in formation? That's from "Tokyo Drifter." Tarantino brags about ripping off every film he's ever seen but no single director has influenced him more than Suzuki; in fact, just about every other shot in Kill Bill Vol. 1 is lifted from Suzuki. I only exaggerate slightly.

"Gate of Flesh," despite its saucy reputation, is too tame by half to be considered one of Suzuki's better films. However, every Suzuki film (at least of the ones I have seen) contains several unforgettable shots that will leave you reeling. Even a mediocre Suzuki film is well worth your time.

Video

The film is presented in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio. The restored digital transfer is yet another in a long line of triumphs for Criterion. Suzuki's pastel hues shimmer and pop, and the flesh is as fleshy as flesh can be. The image quality is clear and sharp, and the print has been cleaned up so that only a few blemishes remain.

Audio

The DVD is presented in Dolby Digital Mono. The remastered soundtrack is a professional job with well-mixed music and effects. Optional English subtitles support the Japanese audio.

Extras

The DVD of "Gate of Flesh" is just skin and bones. The only noteworthy extra is a recent interview (21 min.) with Seijun Suzuki and production designer Takeo Kimura. The disc also includes a stills gallery and a theatrical trailer. The insert features a new essay by critic Chuck Stephens in his usual unique prose.

Closing Thoughts

If you're a Suzuki fan, you will certainly want to see "Gate of Flesh." However, if you are about to make your first plunge into the world of this iconoclastic master, you would do better to start with two older Criterion releases, "Tokyo Drifter" and "Branded to Kill." I am also a big fan of his recent "Pistol Opera" (2000) but it might be a bit too heady and potentially alienating for someone just getting to know Suzuki.