This is the last in the Nikkatsu Noir series, and it’s a very fun time. It drew a lot of things together for me. The opening credits have music that is a western theme played by harmonica, and the blurry image behind the lettering appears to be a group of cowboys, though the distortion is so strong it’s hard to make out what you’re looking at. And that would describe the movie as a whole. It’s a western, with the hero taking care of his buddy, facing down the bad guys against overwhelming odds, and not expressing his love to his woman. When I see the western-inspiring Yojimbo and Seven Samuri again, I’ll have a better understanding of how the flow in influences works. Passport fills out a circle of influence, samurais going west, westerns heading east. But Takashi Nomura doesn't see westerns as Americans do. The western is history to us; in Japan (and most other places in the world), it’s a formal narrative pattern. Now I get why it was possible for some directors to draw from the western and translate its elements into their own cinema. I have to wonder if the opening music and image from Passport is a metaphor for how Nomura is using the western here. You can’t easily make out the western elements in Passport since it’s a gangster film, but the outlines are there nevertheless.
And I get what mukokuseki film is about now, too. This movie is a western (the dusty showdown ending was a by-the-numbers shootout), but it’s also a film noir with the strong shadows and contrasts, the threatening tone, and the overwhelming omnipresence of menace. It’s hard not to imagine that the film is going to end badly. And there’s a lot of stylized, over-the-top violence like you’d see in post-American New Wave film. I think mukokuseki means blending genres, and Passport certainly does that. And to very satisfactory ends.
There are even some sharp, self-reflexive elements in the film. When the guys are casing the gangster in the opening of the film, they go through a series of scenes that are visual or cinematically noteworthy. In each scene, you see the two men. In the next sequence with Kamimura setting up the hit, the camera goes through the exact same shots, but there is no one in the shot. This smart move not only gives the info that Kamimura is not planning an obvious hit, but it also makes us aware of the film’s composition and camera movement since we recognize all the cinematic elements on the second go-round. Later, actors will look right at the camera, too. Such breaking-the-fourth-wall gestures feel French New Wave to me. As does the stylized, formal composition of many shots.
This is the second film I’ve seen with Jo Shishido, and I think he’s an interesting presence on screen. He’s long-legged tall, and his surgically-altered cheekbones make him distinctive. He’s not handsome, but there’s always something appealing about him when he’s in front of the audience. I’m looking forward to seeing him in other roles.
It’s also a little bit of a breakthrough for me to see these films and get an idea of where Tarantino is coming from. I’ve thought for some time that Tarantino is doing a reverse Kurasawa; while Kurasawa takes western film language and uses it for Japanese cultural expression, Tarantino takes Asian and uses it for an American public. Watching these Nikkatsu films, I’ve gotten a much stronger understanding of the material Tarantino draws from, and I find his work more accessible.
A Colt is My Passport is a fun film. It might not be award winning (the exposition at the beginning is almost embarrassing), but it’s interesting to see how elements of styles that I think of as profoundly American can be appropriated for a different cultural expression. What fun!