Samurai Fiction (1998) - Dir: Hiroyuki Nakano
Samurai Fiction is both a celebration of the artistic expression of film, as well as a quiet reflection on an important era in Japan's cinematic history. The film possesses a tangible and infectious energy that oozes from the screen, an energy ignited by passion and reverence. In many ways, SF is a love letter written by Hiroyuki Nakano, addressed to the directors whose films helped to identify a nation and its people. What's more, the film is totally accessible, and can be enjoyed by both genre-veterans and neophytes alike. It stands with its arms outstretched ready to embrace all who allow themselves to fall under its charm.
SF is part send-up, part homage, and part serious study of the jidaigeki: its influences and its themes. The jidaigeki can be seen as Japan's national genre - like the western is to America, so too are the samurai films to Japan. They exist to examine Japan's history, its folk-heroes, its nation, its mythology, and the very things that make Japan, Japan. At the heart of the genre is an artery of Japanese essence, the mono no aware, the examination of the tranquility and Japanese-ness of things. SF encapsulates everything important to the genre, and then adds a unique post-modern spin on the themes, characterizations, and memes.
The film was partially inspired by Pulp Fiction's anachronistic genrebusting. While SF's narrative is fully established in the past, there is a fascinating juxtaposition of modern audio and humor. Electric guitar, piano, synthesizers, rock 'n roll, and electronic music are used to build the film's audio foundation: all instruments and genres anachronistic to the narrative's time period. While some filmmakers and composers might choose this kind of instrumentation without a lot of thought, or just because its how things are done, in SF it is done to add a tinge of modernity to the genre. The film's composer, and one of its stars, Tonoyasu Hotei (who also composed the piece Battle Without Honor or Humanity made popular in Kill Bill) and the director worked to craft a film possessing attractive elements from the here and now and the past; they create a perfect marriage of things important to their generation, as well as the things important to the films of yesterday.
The humor, too, is more modern, and it is also self-referential, but it is not a lazy spoof. While the director's fourth film, Red Shadow, a send up to the ninja film, dives head first into the spoof-pool, SF is graceful and distinguished in its approach. It pokes fun at some of the genre's conventions - the hamster-like ninja school and the proud, naive anger of the main character - but it still remains reverent towards its subject. It also incorporates some comedic gags found in Japanese animation: see the I'm-in-love-nose-bleed as a specific example. The humor never feels forced, but instead it works in perfect tandem with the narrative and the characters; it feels natural, and is not lazily used to craft a simple parody. The humor is there to offer more insight into the genre, and to foster a breeze of aloofness and affability to the film.
Filmed in black and white, with a few punctuations of color, Samurai Fiction exists as both an impassioned homage to an entire genre of cinema, as well as a singular film possessing its own unique voice. Nakano fully understands all of the things that make the jidaigeki so important to his country, and, along with the other filmmakers, he has crafted a film that contains elements of the past and the present. The film is sweet without being sappy; has conflict without relying on too much action; is humorous without being silly; uses music to strengthen the narrative's modernity; and offers up a cast of endearing and memorable characters. It is also, simply, an entertaining film bursting with earnestness and powerful charm.