Bunraku

Year: 2010
Genre: Martial Arts Film
Director: Guy Moshe
Stars: Josh Harnett, Demi Moore, Ron Perlman, Gackt, Woody Harrelson, Kevin McKidd
Production: Snoot Entertainment

The first ever films were on the whole an exercise in capturing the moment. The Lumieres, Edison and later Flaherty took the time to film events unfolding before their eyes and, with little context, simply marveled at the achievement of celluloid. Then came Melies, Griffith and Wiene; three names among others who saw the potential of creating stories, plots and fantasies. Fabrications told with style and economy. A lie that told the truth. Today's popular cinema basks largely in the glory of the romantic flourishes started by the first few silent-era trailblazers. A 110-year-old line can be drawn directly linking The Avengers (2012) to A Trip to the Moon (1902) yet lost along that line is Bunraku, a little seen, often maligned gem that needs reconsideration by the masses.

On the cusp of this deceptively simple film is a near universal acknowledgement of style over substance. It's even in the name Bunraku which is a form of traditional Japanese puppeteer-ing. The opening credits of the film plods with nonsensical narration brought by a cynical voice and colorful puppetry mixed with economical computer graphics. We're submerged into a world of paper mache, all the world is a stage and all the players almost seem to notice. With a wink and a nod they dance around each other; a cowboy, a samurai, a woodcutter, an assassin, a barkeep and a maiden. All the world is a stage and pulling the strings are the dexterous hands and wide eyes of a teenage boy. Deceptively simple because it is an indulgence similar to youth's long hours with toys at the foot of the bed or after midnight's Kung Fu marathons.

Yet there's more than meets the eye here. The script's sometimes frustratingly scant dialogue circles around the notion of violence. Its not one of those films that admonishes violence while inviting the audience to enjoy stylized buckets of blood. It's a film that tries to posit violence as part of the cyclical machinations of the universe. What matters is how you use violence; towards selfish ends or selfless ends. Our heroes, the drifter and the samurai fight for good, in a sense. Their families were effected by the woodcutter and his gang, thus they battle to reclaim their family honor. A simple story of revenge told hundreds of times across multiple cultures and mediums. Even the characters in the plot are aware of their place in the larger story. The barkeep, played by an affable Woody Harrelson even props up a pop-up book telling a similar heroic tale. The tale he tells though the names are changed is that of Spider-Man; confirmed by the moral of the story "with great power comes great responsibility."

The story goes deeper into the depths of political and moral philosophy with the inclusion of a character known as The General. His Proletariat League remains in the periphery until the third act. The character is treated as a phantom which prods the Woodcutters gang to remove his iconography. Then he appears a withered old man reminiscent of an aging Fidel Castro. He's waited, perhaps too long, to strike against the woodcutter and his gang which control the city. Does he, by the end of the film replace a politically violent reign with another? Maybe, but the movie strongly adheres to the cyclical nature of human politics. When Harrelson's character insists he makes the drinks and fought only so he could continue to make the drinks, our two heroes seems disappointed. As if to say when good men do nothing, evil prevails. The movie then ends with a Rising Sun Flag doubling as the sun itself. Fascism and cruelty still lurks in the shadows or in this case, the light.

Yet the draw of a movie of this kind is not a flaccid political statement or a hero's journey we all can recite by heart. Most films, with noted exceptions are like Christmas trees, its not the structure but the decorations that set them apart. And there are a lot of decorations. Bunraku is nearly an entire product of pastiche. The city home to our players is constructed to look cheap as if made on a sound stage, as it likely was. The walls are paper thin, dominated by harsh masculine edges and aside from beer bottles and bifocals, there is no glass in the windows. The unnatural light shifts suddenly from blue to red and orange to create an atmosphere of dread, anger and fear depending on the situation. Its as if The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)  was remade into  a gangster movie. The vibrant costumes take hints from Bollywood, the scene transitions are pop art, the characters an amalgam of ronins, cowboys and grizzled private dicks; east meets west meets points in between.

The actors themselves are a mixed bag exemplifying the eclectic tastes of its audience. fading teen heartthrob Josh Harnett plays the cowboy. Years earlier his casting would have been the very definition of American Hollywood. His trajectory has a precedence in the late work of Henry Fonda or Eli Wallach who both reinvented themselves as Spaghetti western villains and rogues. The only difference is Harnett's star faded quicker; a boyish stud who lost his appeal when he lost box office. Our other protagonist is played by Gackt, a Japanese pop musician with international appeal. Bunraku was to be his international debut, a step up from the small screen which he had experience. Before Bunraku he played a reoccurring character in a Japanese period TV series called The Trusted Confidant (2007).

Our main villain, the Woodcutter is played by the classically trained Ron Perlman, a favorite of French filmmakers Jean-Jacques Annaud and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. While never amounting to much more than a unique face on the screen, the rugged Perlman brings heft to the tin stars that fight against him. Then there's Woody Harrelson who since his TV days has flirted with commercial and critical appeal. An A-Lister; perhaps not but a solid B-lister who can always count on regular work. Finally there is Demi Moore who in the early nineties was arguably the most popular leading lady in the world. Yet much like her character her star was lost among a menagerie of young ingenues.

To surmise; one greenhorn, two has-beens, one almost-is and one never-was. All posing before the unique art design that floods the screen at any moments notice. Its hard not to realize that all cinema today is pastiche. Coen, Scorsese, Anderson both Paul Thomas and Wes; films and filmmakers that get the most notice are the ones that reference with intelligence. Yet Bunraku is not intelligent. It celebrates it's own brevity with an infused childlike wonder; the workings of a gifted amateur? Perhaps. There are liberal dashes of Kurosawa; a dollop of Leone, layers of the Shaw Brothers and gallons of videogame sensibilities intermixed with directorial decisions seemingly made for economy. Yet through all the filigree, the passion shines through. I must prefer the undisciplined spirit of a gifted amateur over the grizzled and worn cynicism of a pro.

Make no mistake, this movie is a masterpiece and not in an ironic sense either. Frazzled and rough around the edges to be sure, but nonetheless Bunraku reveals a masterful depth politically and visually. It follows in a cinematic tradition while bringing a rare gust of originality that can make you question how to truly make and interpret a lie that tells the truth. All the worlds a stage and in this case, I'd get a front row seat right quick.

Final Grade: B