Retro-View: The Yakuza (1974)

In honor of Sydney Pollack, I thought it would be cool to turn the Retro-View onto my favorite film of his: THE YAKUZA. I was fortunate to see this in the theater thanks to my brother, who had already exposed me to the wonderful world of Bruce Lee at the height of 70’s “chop socky” exploitation, making me a martial arts fan for life by age six. I vividly recall watching this film in the theater, fascinated by the coded Japanese culture amid the bloody gun/sword duels (along with YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE (1967), this was my first intro to the samurai mythos). I sat enraptured by the adult action along with the film’s exotic and fascinating tone. Thank Gawd the “R” rating meant nothing to my family.

THE YAKUZA has an interesting history. The original script was written by Leonard and Paul Schrader in a desperate attempt to sell something commercial. They were broke, hungry, nihilistic and they wrote the script in a few week’s fever dream. In turn, their agent sent the screenplay out, brilliantly pitched as “THE GODFATHER meets Bruce Lee” and the Schraders took home 300,000 dollars — a spec script sale record at the time. Elaine Lennon has a detailed look at the authorship issues in this piece from Senses of Cinema. So the film has relevance besides its own high values, as it launched Paul and Leonard Schrader into Hollywood. And if you’re a movie scribe and want to see an example of a lean and mean screenplay, watch THE YAKUZA. Robert Towne was brought in to do an effective rewrite in his more sensitive voice but the story belongs to the Schrader psyche of flawed honor and rigid discipline.

The story centers on Harry Kilmer (played by Robert Mitchum in a choice role) as he journeys to Japan to help his old friend George Tanner (the epic Brian Keith) to rescue his daughter from the clutches of the Yakuza. Kilmer must re-face the Japanese woman, Tanaka Eiko (Keishi Keiko) he once loved and her brother, Tanaka Ken (the legendary Takakura Ken) who hates him. This leads to a complex weave of friend and filial conflict within the samurai violence of the neon Tokyo underworld.

Of course, Sydney Pollack might have seemed like a strange choice for this pulpy material after the mega-success of THE WAY WE WERE (1973), but he did help define the 70’s low-key thriller template with THE THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR (1975) and THE YAKUZA is a perfect prologue to his skills in the genre. Yet Pollack says in this brief nifty interview that he didn’t want to make a “genre” film the way Schrader wanted. To that end, Robert Towne’s excellent dialogue subdues what could be outlandish situations and fits them into the realm of possibility. Which is all for the better, as Pollack’s theatrical naturalism combined with the samurai film’s geometric stylization works wonders.

No doubt due to Pollack’s instinctive gift for working with actors, the ensemble cast is terrific, especially Robert Mitchum in what I can safely say is one of his great performances. He’s so good that you can’t believe he’s not acknowledged more for this part but for the film’s relative obscurity. Mitchum had a reputation as an iconic “lazy and cool” actor who could do a lot with nothing or vice versa. He’s no slouch for Pollack and his tough-guy vulnerability here has rarely been so layered, so appealing. Brian Keith always makes a terrific foil, his volcanic personality complementing Mitchum’s world-weariness; they’re just two old sonsabitches.

I particularly love Richard Jordan, one of my absolute 70’s favorites, as Dusty, a sensitive bodyguard fascinated by the Japanese codes of honor. Sit-com staple Herb Edelman is just right as a Buddhist chess-playing weapons dealer. Then there’s Takakura Ken, one of Japan’s biggest stars who inspired the Schraders script to begin with. He brings all the gravitas of his Toei yakuza series to his pivotal role in the same way Sonny Chiba did in KILL BILL (it’s clear that Tarantino is a fan of this film too). Ken doesn’t say much, but his taciturn face speaks volumes. And the man knows how to wield one mean lightning sword of death. Together, Mitchum and Ken make a supercool team. Mitchum’s soulfull offering to Ken at the end is a career highlight.

Beautifully lensed by two cinematographers, Duke Callaghan and Kozo Okazaki in anamorphic Panavision, THE YAKUZA also faithfully recreates the widescreen compositions so indigenous to Japanese filmmaking. Perhaps surprisingly, Pollack truly excels in the staging of gun and sword play. These are some of the most unique fight scenes of the 1970’s and beyond. The violence is stylized but realistic. When somebody is pierced by a sword, they tremble and mutter while dying; as limbs are hacked, characters show nausea and revulsion; while bullets fly in chaos, people scream and stumble awkwardly. The final ten minute showdown in a yakuza stronghold is pure cinema, and Pollack employs a variety of techniques to give verisimilitude to such an unlikely scenario. It’s one of my all-time favorite action set-pieces.

I’m glad I got to experience THE YAKUZA in the theater, where its 70’s melancholy ambiance (Dave Gruisin’s soundtrack even sounds exactly like 1974) enveloped me like the butter in my popcorn, giving me an early appetite for the Japanese gangster film. The recent DVD release has been lushly transfered with an in-depth, engaging commentary by Sydney Pollack. It’s clear he’s proud of this overlooked samurai noir and considers it one of his best films. I agree. Domo.