Shot in 1997 by Takeshi Kitano, Hana-bi is a Japanese motion picture whose success reached the international level. Translated as “Fireworks” for the US release, the film brought fame to Takeshi Kitano and made him a recognizable director outside of Japan. Though the film’s storyline can hardly be called innovative, the Asian approach and view of life found the international critical acclaim and brought the director numerous prestigious nominations and awards.
Hana-bi’s artistic and intertextual codes are still admired by the contemporary audience in spite of the fact that the film was released almost twenty years ago. This paper is thus going to dwell on the ways and methods Takeshi Kitano used in order to manage to create the film worth of the Golden Lion and the international critics’ acclaim.
Though the film can hardly be called successful financially, it truly contributed to the development of the cinema. The contemporary audience might not be impressed by the film that much as the audience of the 90’s was but it is imperative to remember the point of development of the cinema the year of 1997 reached (Levy 471). For that era, Hana-bi was a fresh view on shooting the films and the ideas were innovative for both the critics and the audience all over the world.
Hana-bi is a story reflecting on the flexible meaning of such phenomena as the right and the wrong. What makes this film a real auteur work of art is Takeshi Kitano’s presence in the role of screenwriter, director, editor and leading actor at once. Such participation made it possible for him to provide his unique view of the story from the auteur perspective. Developing his characters and demonstrating the complexity of life circumstances, Kitano managed to create a feature film that won over the hearts of the audience.
“Hana-Bi‘s action turns on a tension between these moments of stillness and flashes of intense, penetrative violence. The result is a taut atmosphere of explosive calm” (Edwards). Such unique effect impressed the jury of the 54th Venice International Film Festival and brought Hana-bi the Golden Lion.
The film talks about life and death, friendship and marriage, commitment to duty and longing for the justice. The way how the eternal themes are developed is what makes Hana-bi a unique work of art that made history not only of the Japanese cinema but the international one as well.
The Japanese director offers his spectators not only to follow the story as it takes place but also reflect and decide whether he agrees on the author’s point of view or not. Kitano successfully puts the spectator in a situation where he/she realizes the world is not black and white and there is no clear border between the absolutely wrong and absolutely right. The film’s positive characters often act in a negative way for the sake of the good. The contemporary audience cannot but admire the director’s depicting that life is a complex structure demanding the individual’s flexibility and confidence for taking the best possible decisions in order to move on in life.
Takeshi Kitano experiments adding visual art to his film – the main character’s partner and friend (Horibe) starts painting and his works are truly surrealistic. The director aimed at connecting the character’s experience of getting into a wheelchair with his exploring another world reflected in his paintings. Another life in the new conditions means the new perception of the individual’s personality and the director’s choice was to associate this experience with art – the inner world of the character found its reflection in the outer type of self-realization. As complex and bizarre is the life, as surrealistic were the paintings.
The curious fact is that Horibe’s works of art that are made in the pointillist technique were in fact painted by Takeshi Kitano himself. Being a branch of impressionism, the style’s main particularity consists of dots forming the image – the director’s inspiration with pointillism is connected with his motorcycle accident. The event not only left half of his face paralyzed but also aroused his interest to express his emotions through painting (Edwards). Another proof of the auteur direction of the movie is Kitano’s projecting of the personal experience on his characters. He knew exactly what he was depicting – the character of Horibe was he himself; the person blown away both physically and emotionally.
Being an original filmmaker, Takeshi Kitano creates a new kind of hero – it was a true challenge so there was no other way but to play the controversial character himself. Nishi has a charisma of the old Hollywood – he is tough and cruel but his deeds are good and sometimes even poetic and noble. Nishi finds himself on the unsettled ground between the criminal world (yakuza) and the professional job of a policeman. What makes this antihero so special is his paradoxical love for freedom – he is ready to give up on his life any moment if there is no other way.
The director’s love for the classic Japanese literature found its reflection in Hana-bi. Even the bloodiest scenes are shot in slow motion and without a sound which makes the plot remind of some kind of philosophical parable or wise ballad about the freewill and peaceful transition to another world (Levy 301).
Takeshi Kitano depicts death from an exceptionally philosophic perspective – it is calm and peaceful. The best example of the director’s view on death is the scene of the suicide of the main character and his death-sick wife. The scene takes place by the sea and off-screen. It seems like the director’s message is that globally, nothing changes after people die, and the worldview stays the same. The spectator knows the characters are dead but the image on the screen is the same – the sea runs high whether the characters of Nishi and Miyuki existed or not.
Takeshi Kitano’s Asian view of life impressed and took the European and American audience by storm. Apart from the unusual plot, the film offers the complex intertextual code floating in Hana-bi’s transcendent world. The existential and zen Buddhistic tone of narration of the story full of killing and breaking the law brings the audience the unique experience of watching one of the best representatives of the Japanese cinema. It is impossible to find the border where the criminal drama of Hana-bi ends and the touching philosophic melodrama begins.
The story lacks the linear development of the plot and together with the surrealistic paintings, creates “an unusual and rich cinematic experience” (Edwards). Hana-bi can be fairly called a surprisingly simple story of the eternal and permanent circulation of existence. The story has obviously the direct connection to the director’s life – the accident he has had before shooting the film put him for some period on the edge of the emotional abyss which resulted in the pictorial art. It was his idea to use the paintings created by him as a part of the image of one of the characters.
The particularity of the non-linear narrative in Hana-bi is best demonstrated in the shooting scene in the mall – the director highlights the intensity of the scene by inserting the tragic flashbacks in the unexpected moments. Flashbacks play a major role in making the spectator participate in the construction of the film and reflect actively on what is going on at the screen.
The entwinement of the destinies in all its complexity forms the storyline of Hana-bi. It seems like the director wanted to attract the audience’s attention to the idea that one unexpected event in the life of one person may turn around the lives of several others surrounding him/her. The difficulties appear under the snowball effect and the former carefree life seems to never come back.
Hana-bi does not aim at proving something to the audience in order to take the director’s side and get the same point of view. Kitano’s view on life and death is obviously rather specific and differs from those of the majority of the European and American directors. What he is trying to convey is the unique Japanese atmosphere and the reflection of his own life experience. He wants to share the particular emotional condition through art – not only the paintings reminding the works of the famous impressionists but also his film.
As for the artistic code of Hana-bi, its outstanding soundtrack cannot be ignored in terms of Takeshi Kitano’s profound approach to the cinema. Composed by Joe Hisaishi, the score fully reflects the atmosphere of the film and perfectly fits in the chain of events. The theme songs are easily recognized and associated with the famous scenes.
The artistic code of Takeshi Kitano is also realized in terms of the camera work as well as mise-en-scene. The director puts a lot of efforts to create the visually interesting shots both meaningful and cinematographically considerable. The film is read and studied by the spectator due to the necessity of untangling the details of the film.
Kitano’s artistic intention is intensified by the usage of the photographic trace – his auteur presence in the film is inevitable. “Kitano consciously blurs the normally contained ambiguity inherent in the relationship between the enactment of a fictional character and the existence of the real performer at the moment of the image’s production” (Edwards). The spectator experiences the double effect while getting to know Kitano’s character – he is not only detective but a human being, too.
The near-death experience Takeshi Kitano had is keenly conveyed through the character of Horibe while the visual part of his experience is demonstrated through the close-ups of Nishi, namely the paralyzed part of his face. Such effect contributes to the dramatic part of the story and attracts the audience’s attention to the hardships the detective has been and is still going through.
The success of Kitano was even more roaring due to the fact that the Japanese directors were undiscovered for more than forty years on the international level – the previous such success belonged to Rashomon by Akira Kurosawa (Edwards). The Asian origin and the profound approach to what he was doing made it possible for Takeshi Kitano to open a new chapter in the Japanese history of cinematograph.
The forced stay at home after the accident brought Takeshi Kitano closer to the hidden mysteries of the universal creation of the world where there exists no border between the animal and the vegetable worlds, and the life and death are integral (Levy 405). Hana-bi demonstrates the auteur approach to providing both outer expression and the deepened inner concentration; the words in the film turn to the rich images and the actions are often replaced with the meaningful silence. In Hana-bi, the director forms his own style – the film no more belongs to any known genre. Takeshi Kitano creates a true work of art.
“Hana-Bi becomes, in effect, a disturbing inflection of Kitano’s own violent ordeal” (Edwards). Were it not inspired and reflected by the director’s personal story, the film might not have become so true and sincere. Being the auteur of the film literally, Takeshi Kitano created a piece of art that leaves a trace in the heart of each and every spectator.
The film reaches his main aim – through artistic and intertextual codes, it tells a story that is interesting to follow for the ordinary spectator and challenging to reflect on for the intelligent and curious one. The audience is able to discover the Asian way of perceiving life (and Japanese, in particular) and seeing the invisible part of the iceberg. The film keeps the audience on the edge of its seats throughout the course of events as well as leaves a lot to think about when the spectator already sees the closing credits.
Hana-bi is a must-see for the cinema lovers who are interested in discovering the international cinema masterpieces. The film is a good example of how the gifted auteur is able to create a work of art by connecting both the artistic and intertextual codes.
Works Cited
Edwards, Dan. Never Yielding Entirely into Art: Performance and Self-Obsession in Takeshi Kitano’s Hana-Bi. Sensesofcinema.com, 2000. Web. 1 Apr. 2016.
Levy, Emanuel. Cinema of Outsiders – The Rise of American Independent Film. NYU Press, 1999. Print.
