Takeshi Kitano has never played by the rules- unless it's just so he can break them. Ever since his directorial debut 'Violent Cop', he's been defying expectations, twisting genre conventions and reinventing himself with every film. From the melancholic brutality of 'Sonatine' and 'Hana-bi' to the quiet poetry of both 'A Scene at the Sea' and 'Kikujiro', as well as the sharp-edged chaos of his 'Outrage' trilogy, Kitano is a truly unpredictable force in cinema.
'Broken Rage,' his 21st project as director, is as enigmatic and offbeat as the man himself. It is a film of two halves- quite literally. The first half follows stoic hitman Mouse, who becomes embroiled in a plot to bring down a powerful Yakuza family. The second tells the exact same story, except Mouse is now a bumbling, fumbling disaster on legs.
A self-referential piece- much like 'Takeshis'', 'Glory to the Filmmaker' and 'Achilles & The Tortoise'- it playfully satirises the polar opposites of Kitano's career: the deadly serious and the absurdly comedic. The first half, played straight, can also be seen as a parody of Yakuza films, revelling in the clichés of the genre- stoic hitmen, shadowy alliances and betrayals. It's a greatest-hits reel of genre tropes, inviting viewers to laugh at the melodrama we've been conditioned to take seriously.
The film's second half is a frenzied festival of comedic chaos, full of pratfalls, visual gags and the occasional collapse of everything. Mouse's hits devolve into slapstick ballets, and no piece of furniture is safe from the weight of his carriage. Fans of Kitano's wackier works, like 'Getting Any', will feel right at home, though slapstick sceptics may find the humour more hit-and-miss.
However, while intermittently entertaining, the film as a whole doesn't really come together. The first half is too weighed down by the clichés it aims to satirize, while the light-hearted second half- though far more engaging- remains rather uneven. Additionally, some scenes in both halves drag- a shame, as at 62 minutes, it is not a lengthy film by any means.
Having said that, it features some great moments. The first half has some very strikingly shot scenes of assassination, while the second features a brilliantly madcap interrogation scene that is as wild as it is wonderful. There are also intertitles throughout that play as if they were snarky messages from the audience- all of which are negative, and most of which are hilarious. In fact, that running gag may be the film's sharpest.
Additionally, it is well-shot by Takeshi Hamada, who also served as cinematographer on Kitano's 'Kubi.' Here, he largely avoids flashy stylizations, creating a cool, cold world for Mouse to navigate. In the first half, Hamada's stark compositions echo the film's homage to gritty, no-nonsense yakuza dramas, emphasizing the sombre inevitability of violence. In the second half, those same cool, controlled visuals serve as a deadpan counterpoint to the chaotic comedy unfolding on screen. It's a clever juxtaposition, quietly underscoring the absurdity at the film's heart.
Moreover, Shin'ya Kiyozuka's score adds yet another layer, feeling like a playful nod to Kitano's past collaborations with the likes of Joe Hisaishi, Shinichirô Ikebe and Keiichi Suzuki. While Kiyozuka's score maintains its own character, it shares their melodic, atmospheric style- a resemblance that feels intentional. This subtle similarity becomes another layer of self-referential humour, as though Kitano is poking fun at his own legacy, not just through narrative and visuals, but through sound as well. It's another reminder that 'Broken Rage' isn't just a film- it's Kitano reflecting, refracting and laughing at his own career.
Kitano's central performance as Mouse is another standout element. He seamlessly toggles between menacing stoicism and bumbling hilarity, embodying the film's thematic split. It's as though he's parodying his own career, oscillating between the enigmatic auteur and the playful comedian we've come to know. His supporting cast also do fine work, particularly semi-regular collaborators Tadanobu Asano and Nao Ômori.
Although 'Broken Rage' may not reach the heights of Takeshi Kitano's best films, it is entertaining, and showcases his singular vision. Ultimately, it feels less like a cohesive film and more like a cinematic Rorschach test: what you see in it might depend on how you view Kitano himself. Is he a brilliant provocateur, poking fun at his own legacy while delivering a wild ride? Or is he simply indulging in his quirkiest impulses without worrying too much about coherence? Either way, 'Broken Rage' is pure Kitano, and love it or not, there's no one else quite like its director.
