User Reviews

Unless you have been blessed to track down the films of Suzuki Seijun, you will never, ever, have seen anything like this before. It has a plot - it is a gangster film - a hero, his girl and villains. There are betrayals and gunfights. You still won't have seen anything like this before. Imagine A BOUT DE SOUFFLE, shot in the style of UNE FEMME EST UNE FEMME, with a mixture of Leone, Welles, Melville, THE AVENGERS and Fuller's HOUSE OF BAMBOO. Not even close.

The basic plot concerns the title hero, a gangster trying to go straight. His boss and father-figure (this is a very Oedipal film, but the concept, with its many variations, is stretched to absurd breaking point), also a former gangster, is being pushed around by some extraordinarily attired hoods. The hero has a girl who sings big Michel Legrand-type numbers in a huge, blazingly colourful art deco/Busby Berkeley/Jean Cocteau-type nightclub. Because the hero is a maverick, he lies low for a while (i.e. drifts), but is followed by a hitman. All converges in a fairly predictable fashion.

To appropriate the ad, Plot is Nothing, Style is Everything. If a studio with big resources is, as Welles claimed, a 'toy set', then Seijun is the class freak. The monochrome gangster world is blown apart by shocks of colour, be they dazzling primary hues, or deliberately effete pastels. This serves to upturn the black and white ideology of the gangster genre. The men are all snarling and macho, but the hero sings and whistles, like the Duke's singing cowboy; the lead villain wears loud red shirts and sports a ridiculous moustache. There is even room in the plot for a gag about hairdryers.

Like in Godard, the crucial plot elements are roundly mocked; the seemingly major event of the hero being captured by and subsequently evading the police is as if filmed by an inept child. The group violence scenes are messy, like brawls at a children's party. There is even a bar-room brawl in a Western saloon in a Japanese gangster movie.

Mirroring Melville's heros, the hero aspires to aloof self-sufficiency, but he is constantly undermined by the film. Whole chunks of story don't make sense. The vertiginous editing is like the maniacal string-pulling of a puppeteer ,and there is a strong Brechtian feel to the film, with frequent breaks for cheesy song; impossible sets; unmotivated lighting; some of the most bizarre and beautiful camera movements in film.

All this stylistic bravura could be monotonous if it wasn't grounded intellectually and emotionally. There are some really beautiful oases of grace amid the violent mayhem. The film is a firm attack on the assumptions of genre, conformity, sterile repetition, linked to conformity in Japanese society at large, and big business in particular. Like 50s melodramas, the colour schemes, lighting and composition reflect the state of mind of the characters. The lengthy snow sequence is worthy of Joyce's 'The Dead'.

When it comes to Japanese cinema, I know we're all supposed to bow down to Kurosawa and Ozu, but I'll take the absolutely hatstand Seijun anyday. Breathtaking genius.

"Tokyo Drifter" is my introduction to the cinematic work of director Seijun Suzuki and it made quite a big impression. This is by far one of the most visually unique movies I have ever seen and the fact that it was made in 1966 makes it even more impressive.

Tetsuya played by Tetsuya Watari is a yakuza who has joined his boss Kurato (Ryuji Kita) in going straight. Unfortunately for both of them a rival gang begins threatening Kurato's legitimate business. After a brief confrontation Tetsuya is forced to leave his boss that way he would hopefully relieve the pressure between Kurato and the gang. Things don't go as smoothly as Tetsuya planned and he finds himself chased by gangs all over Japan.

The story is standard fare yakuza tale. With a hefty doze of betrayal, inner power struggles and a bit of melodrama in the form of Tetsuya's girlfriend. We've seen it all before. Now. What really sets this movie apart from any other is it's unique visual nearly surrealistic style. Suziki employs several tricks in order to assure that the film will remain distant from any other. His use of colors creates one part of the that. More accurately his use of color contrast, we see that in several scenes through the movie, for example during the final shootout we see gang members dressed in primarily black suits while the location itself was in mainly white bright colors. Tetsuya himself is often dressed in colors that merge him with the backgrounds further helping in the creation of the film's extravagant look. The second aspect of the movie's uniqueness is the camera work and the overall directing. Suziki employs techniques that are reminiscene of western movies and more specifically Sergio Leone's line of work. The final shootout again serves as a great example of that.

The acting is on par with the script, characters are well played by their respective actors. They don't make an overly big impression but certainly don't deteriorate the quality. The film has a good music score with a particularly memorable theme song by the main actor Tetsuya Watari that is always nice to hear and fit's very well with the mood.

"Tokyo Drifter" is a movie that offers stunning visuals and a plot that while not very deep in characterization is still able to carry the film's unique style. Mister Suzuki is able to impress, sadly his production company at the time wasn't on the same opinion and soon after he was fired and blacklisted for 10 years. A real shame for a director with such talent.

In my opinion, Tokyo Drifter is worth seeing, but comparing it to Branded to Kill is a bit like comparing apples and oranges.

Branded to Kill is eerie and nightmarishly weird--unforgettably, perhaps like a Hitchcock film or a dark film noire. Tokyo Drifter, on the other hand, is more "romantic." It is fun and chock full of mod 60s fashions and go-gos.

Both films are masterpieces of style. To me, Tokyo Drifter is worth seeing, but it has some silly moments. Somehow, I was left thinking of Woody Allen's What's Up Tiger Lilly and James Bond!

Much of Tokyo Drifter (1966) requires a certain sense of cultural background and historical context in order to be better appreciated; otherwise, it most probably seems vapid, dated and entirely incoherent. You have to appreciate the fact that for the first part of his career, director Seijun Suzuki was a contract player for Nikkatsu Pictures, and largely obligated contractually to take any project offered to him, regardless of plot, concept or theme. He was also working under fairly strict conditions in order to produce the biggest financial turnover, whilst simultaneously striving to give his films a certain sense of character or individuality to make them stand out against the other, identikit youth films being produced by Nikkatsu at that particular time. By the mid-1960's he'd already begun to push his films further into more personal, idiosyncratic directions; experimenting with colour on Youth of the Beast (1963) and composition in The Story of a Prostitute (1965), as well as experimenting with more theatrical uses of lighting and location design on the classic Gate of Flesh (1964).

Most of these stylistic flourishes came from his interest in Kabuki theatre, with Suzuki transposing the artificial, ornate and entirely abstract world of those productions to the gritty and violent streets of his low-budget B-pictures. It is important to keep in mind also that these films were incredibly cheap to make and certainly not considered to be "prestige pictures". Think of the hundreds of other films being released by the same company at the same time and ask yourself why these films aren't getting the same kind of posthumous attention in the west. The real reason is the context. Suzuki transcended the limitations of what was required of his work; instilling it with a personal style and a larger than life sense of exuberance that resonates with anyone who can truly appreciate the magic and power of cinema. This is apparent right from the start of Tokyo Drifter, as a black and white sequence of betrayal sets up the mood of gritty violence, punctuated by stark abstraction. The scene is vague and enigmatic; choreographed in such a way as to suggest pastiche, but still managing to remain fairly brutal. Suzuki also wastes no time throwing us into this overly complicated narrative, in which the turf war between two rival Yakuza fractions spirals out of control and causes grief for a loyal young thug trying to do the right thing, whilst still attempting to remain faithful to his boss.

However, what is most remarkable about this scene, and about the film in general, is Suzuki's anarchic and unconventional approach to location and production design, as well as his fragmented bursts of editing and his masterful use of cinematography. The opening scene fools us into thinking that this will be another run of the mill, low-budget gang-thriller in gritty black and white. However, as the central character drops down on one knee to fire a succession of shots past the camera at an off-screen foe, we cut briefly to a shot of bold, dizzying colour. After the opening scene has played out, the film cuts to that catchy title song and the film switches to colour full time. This juxtaposition is a jarring one, and establishes the mood and tone that Suzuki had in mind for us, as the rest of the film continues these ideas of abstraction, exuberance and the utterly unconventional. The cinematography, design, editing and costumes are fantastic throughout, with Suzuki and his team using bold, primary colours that create an almost comic-strip like quality, whilst the use of theatrical lighting, camera movement and those epic, cinemascope compositions turn a backstreet battle for power into an epic parable of almost Shakespearian proportions.

If you're already familiar with Japanese Yakuza cinema, from the grittier, more hard-hitting films of Kinji Fukasaku, to the restless experimentations of Takashi Miike, or indeed, the unconventional gang cinema of Takeshi Kitano, then you'll already know what to expect from the presentation of character and theme established by Suzuki herein. So, we have loyalty, betrayal, power, corruption, brotherhood and retribution alongside the central notion of a once-violent character attempting to remove himself from a world that he can no longer understand. Obviously, given the conventions of the genre, he can never quite escape this world, and indeed, it is here where the conflict of the film will arise. However, such notions of story and character are sure to come secondary to the overwhelming power of Suzuki's images; which suggest, as one reviewer put it, "the spirit of a youthful Jean Luc Godard directing Point Blank (1967) from a script by Stan Lee".

Criticisms that Suzuki can't tell a coherent story are puerile and go against every notion of what cinema is and what cinema should attain to. You simply cannot judge a filmmaker off the strengths and weaknesses of a single film, especially one that already has a reputation as being one of his most radical and slyly anarchic. It's like dismissing the work of Takashi Miike after only having seen Fudoh: A New Generation (1996) or Dead or Alive (1999), or even dismissing Tarantino off the back of Death Proof (2007) or Kill Bill (2003). There are plenty of films from Suzuki in which the story is a primary concern; however, with Tokyo Drifter he was attempting something different, something more revolutionary. A pure slice of psychedelic 60's chic in the pop art tradition, with shoot-outs, fist fights, fragmented editing and some truly intoxicating colours.

I don't know if there are a Japanese movie-tradition with great endings, but "Tôkyô nagaremono" is one of several Japanese movies with a lavished and thoroughly ending, not in the way that it strange, bizarre or turn the story upside down, just the fact that it creates the strong emotion as a movie should do when it ends - like movies such as "Nikita", "The Terminator" and "12 Angry Men". The end doesn't work as a summary, but like a striking touch that a movie needs. "Tôkyô nagaremono" has also at times very well-directed and exciting action scenes. Enjoyable.

Rating: 7 of 10.

I will argue until my death that TOKYO DRIFTER is superior to BRANDED TO KILL, but that's for another time...

I am amazed every time I see this film that Suzuki could take such an obviously inferior product -- as Nikkatsu Studios was churning out at an obscene rate in those days, giving directors a script and saying "Shoot it fast and cheap so we can give you your next job" -- and turn it into one of the most beautiful and intriguing films I've ever seen.

Best plot ever? No. Easy to follow? Yes. Beautiful? Yes. And that theme...I could never forget that theme if I tried, even after my first viewing.

I'd ramble on about history and plot and so on, but so many others have, I'll just leave it at this: TOKYO DRIFTER makes me happy every time I see it.

Sensible logic might be little, but director Suzuki Seijun's surrealistic pop-art gangster feature "Tokyo Drifter" is a tour-de-fore in flamboyant, and unusual film-making. Everything about this fashionably unhinged effort reeks of ultra-coolness, with its edgy but trendy stylish guidance painting an influential pathway for many film-makers to experiment, but also providing familiar staples of noir and western inspirations to its own brash, creative juices. I admit the busily dry story is quite an unbalanced muddle, with fractured editing, but still for that time glamorously unconventional and erratically bewildering. The focus of the material is that of devotion (of business and love), but some quirky sight gags and mayhem make there way in. Mainly it's all about the majestic set-pieces though, and the delirious appeal of them are a wondrously enchanting sight. A trippy colour scheme infuses itself on the psychedelically warped set-designs of moody composition lighting, and the sudden bursts of exaggerated violence have a poetically tough awe surrounding it. The taut pace of the film stays pretty much on cruise control, but where the energy feeds off can be linked to Kaburagi So's fierily dramatic jazz musical score, and Mine Shigeyoshi's intimately snappy cinematography positioning. Even breaking up the murky narrative are odd song choices and a rhythmic theme. The colourful performances are dashing, and life-like with a brooding array of interesting characters. Testsuya Watari, HidekaI Nitani, Ryuji Kita, Chieko Matsubara and Eiji Go are enjoyably tailored to their parts. Highly stylised fun.

Damn good. Was a bit unfocused first half of the movie, because of off-screen reasons, but I'm looking forward to re watch this in a more focused state, feeling the full punch. Because you feel this movie like a punch. 20 min in you know how it's going to end, does not matter. You still feel what the director intended.

The idea is typical for Japanese for yakuza movies, a melancholy hitman, bound by honor and duty, beautiful woman, tragic love, etc etc. All summed up in the title of another movie 'Another lonely hitman' (1995), which is basically a nostalgic attempt to make a classic yakuza movie like they did in the 60s and 70s. Like this one.

Allso, this movie contains a absolute epic scene of a bar fight in a western themed bar, that manage (somehow) to evoke the spirit of classic western movies as well as something very Japanese, this is a keypoint in the movie so I won't write more about it, but trust me, it is a good one! :)

In 1966 Nikkatsu, a Japanese studio, requested that one of their more "difficult" directors "calm down" on his next project. The director was Seijun Suzuki. The project was Tokyo Drifter. The result was anything but calm.

A film-noir shot through with moments of brilliant, lurid colour; the film defies all conventions be it genre, style or even something as mundane and unnecessary as narrative. One scene finds Tetsuya Watari's pouting yakuza in a tense showdown with his rival. Standing on train tracks, surrounded by clean, crisp snow the screen is split in two by a clearly visible dark blue line. The use of this visual effect is telling. It adds nothing to the story, to the characterisation, it simply looks good.

The closing sequence has to be seen to be believed. It is best described as the secret lovechild of a Gene Kelly musical and a John Woo action film. Amazing.

If for nothing else, Tokyo Drifter will long be remembered for the theme tune which hauntingly drifts through the entire film.

Absolutely incredible. Seijun Suzuki is one of the most underrated directors of all time. His use of coloring and black and white is something that everyone from Steven Spielberg to Brian DePalma to George Romero have emulated to great effect in some of their most well-loved movies. Also, his way of stylizing violence is something that oriental films are still copying. Go check out Pistol Opera, Ichi the Killer, The Killer, or Hard Boiled if you want to see what I mean. The gun-throwing move that Tetsuya utilizes is used in American action movies to this day. It's also amazingly politically incorrect. Americans are lampooned as bumbling, drunken idiots and women are no more than objects to be slapped around and used for a man's benefit. I miss political incorrectness in contemporary movies. The theme song was pretty awesome, as well.

Stylish with dramatic b/w photography at the start and near b/w in the later snow scenes but bright and colourful sequences along the way with great use made of neon signs and the pop colours of the late 60s design. The yakuza tale told is, as usual, rather confusing. its partly all the unfamiliar names that we find difficulty in remembering or differentiating from each other and partly because there are certain taken for granted bits and bobs that are not so obvious to western audiences. Not least do we find the 'honour' concept hard to comprehend, 'giri' being rather different to our pretty basic comprehension of the US TV representations of their own mafia. But never mind, here we have the ultimate 'Mr Cool' treading a difficult path, this way and that, indeed becoming the 'Tokyo Drifter' and we just have to stop fighting it and accept what is presented and enjoy.

Another movie that amazes me. I watched this with a bunch of friends who enjoy Asian movies (Ichi, Hana Bi, Ikiru, Oni Baba, etc.) and the verdict was unanimous - this is one vastly over-hyped movie. That was our honest opinion. There was simply nothing redeeming about this movie. It appeared to be have been made by someone with a severe hangover, or someone with a bad bout of attention deficit disorder, a 15 year old dsylexic, or probably someone with all of the above traits of genius. Granted that this movie may have gone against the grain of most contemporary movies of the time, but that alone does not qualify it to be judged as a masterpiece.

Storyline: Utterly predictable Acting: What acting? Effects: looks like a one man job - carpenter/painter/decorator/director Music: One song that I could not listen to again, after 2 renditions Dialogue: Arf arf! Snarl! Yapyapayapyap...

The only thing that makes sense about this movie is that Seijun got fired after delivering this kind of fluff once too often.

I can see the elite connoissuers raising their eyebrows in disdain at such an unsophisticated take on such a universally agreed upon work of genius. That's fine. Its an honest opinion, whatever else its not. It did not click for me.

'Tokyo Drifter' is one of the coolest movies I have ever seen in my life! It is so cool that you almost think you dreamed it up, but no, someone (the criminally underrated Seijun Suzuki) actually MADE this movie. Storywise it is your standard Yakuza crime thriller, but the approach is totally off the planet, with stylized sets, vibrant cartoonish colours and a naggingly insistent theme song. This movie has gotta be seen to be believed! You MUST see this movie!

In Tokyo, the gangster Tetsu (Tetsuya Watari) regenerates when his yakuza boss Kurata (Ryuji Kita) decides to quit his criminal life. However, the mobster family leaded by Otsuka (Hideaki Esumi) threatens Kurata's legitimate business, and Tetsu decides to leave Kurata to relief the pressure on him. He leaves also his girlfriend Chiharu (Chieko Matsubara) and becomes a drifter moving to the country. When Tetsu is betrayed, he returns to Tokyo to resolve his situation.

"Tôkyô Nagaremono" is a different gangster movie, with a stylish and beautiful cinematography and also a very confused screenplay. The story recalls those spaghetti westerns, with the hero Tetsu looking like an invincible and invulnerable cowboy, never being mortally shot, and with the same type of conclusion, with Tetsu killing all his enemies and going away alone. This flick is not a masterpiece but entertains. My vote is six.

Title (Brazil): "Tóquio Violenta" ("Violent Tokyo")

Having previously seen Branded to Kill on its Criterion release, and having found it to be utterly brilliant, I had to buy the Criterion release of Tokyo Drifter. It is not as good as Branded to Kill (heck, nothing can be), but it is still great. The color composition is particularly masterful. So what if the story is difficult to follow? It is still entertaining. I really wish more of Sezuki Seijun's films would be released by Criterion, or anyone else, for that matter. He's an extraordinarily interesting and gifted filmmaker who is very underappreciated in cinema history.

If you want brilliant classic cinema, by all means go elsewhere. But if you've been looking for the Japanese equivalent to a blacksploitation flick, you've got it here. Cheesy acting, antiquated and predictable storytelling, AND catchy theme song all rolled into one. (Have to give credit where credit is due, that theme song is great). Generally I'm a fan of film cross-pollination. After all, where would Akira Kurasawa be without the old classic Westerns, and likewise, where would George Lucas be without Akira Kurasawa? But Tokyo Drifter just overdid it. It also had that 'Speed Racer' feeling to it, like you where watching the same thing over and over again. Still, much like Shaft, it's not art, but it's still quite enjoyable.

How do you take an average Yakuza script in a conservative studio wholly interested in profit and turn it into the perfect movie? You give it to Seijun Suzuki, that's how. Suzuki masterfully molds the tale into a deep and powerful look at Tetsu's struggles. While the imagery, camera angles and color effects are brilliant, they never overpower the core of the movie. And to top it all off, Tokyo Drifter exudes 'cool'. Tetsu, the primary character, is perhaps the baddest man in all of Japanese film, the Asian Shaft, if you will. Be forewarned, this film is not for everyone. It is bold and cunning in almost every way, and it's often jumbled presentation requires concentration and/or multiple viewings. Life changing for me, anyone should give it a look.

Omehow the story seemed random, haphazard. So it wasn't very interesting until in the middle. However, the momentum suddenly started in the second half, especially the climax part. Instead of a cinematic action scene like a normal movie, it uses an artificial climax with an artistic platform stage. The characters were dressed in single-colored suits, the colors and sets were unique, and I felt the talent of the director. I was fully satisfied at the end. I think this is a very successful experiment.

Sometime in school, I recorded Tokyo Drifter onto my cable I watched some of the movie in the morning. I didn't know that I loved it so much until after school I decided to finish off the rest of the movie and I was amazed. The song still stands out in my mind even though in an interview by Suzuki that Testuya Watari wasn't a good singer so they had him saying his lines several times and pick the best version of it for each phrase. This was one of Suzuki's last films before getting fired from Nikkatsu with his cult classic, "Branded to Kill" (1967). Something seemed to really stand out to me about this film and everyone could of course tell you that it would be the colors.

When watching this film, understand that Suzuki uses what we call associative color. Associative color is the use of color that reappears every time to a certain character or idea so it's easier for the audience to identify with the character more easily. In this film, white is good guy or safe and red is bad guy or danger. He used basic colors for the audience to easily understand. If you see a red mailbox in one scene, you know there is evil lurking around. Tokyo Drifter was one of the earliest films to use colors seriously in a form of art other than films like Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1962).

Tokyo Drifter may be weak on it's story once you've seen 4 to 5 Nikkatsu films in the 60s, but the art film style that Suzuki chooses for his films make this and his other classics more separate and more visually fun than other films of that time. It may have no meaning or make no sense for some viewers but, it's one hell of a film and that's a fact.

Seijun Suzuki's iconoclastic Tokyo Drifter is a roller-coaster ride of startling images and satirical set pieces. Apparently his studio bosses in the day didn't know what to make of it; we are not that much better off decades later. At times playful, at others adventurous and then touching, this film defies description. It just has to be seen. The sudden light changes are outrageous but fantastic. The cheeky half-hearted cop-chases-bad-guy sequence is amusing. The women are treated badly, the Americans even worse - but it is all super cool. You'll be whistling the theme for days afterwards. MTV and Tarantino are impostors - watch Tokyo Drifter to see where it all started.

Neon-infused and stylish, this contemplative slow-burning gangster flick focuses on man who, after his boss decides to 'go straight', becomes a drifter in order to reduce tensions between his father figure and a group of yakuza involved in a dodgy real-estate venture. The lead character is as stoic and measured as his theme song (which is actually diegetic), a sort of tragic hero whose fatal flaw is the very thing he considers to be his greatest strength. With flashes of fast-paced, take-no-prisoners action and a focus on mood and composition over realism, 'Tokyo Drifter (1966)' makes its own way through the noir genre and emerges as a distinct and influential experience. It's pretty slow, though, and that's probably its biggest issue. It has a strange pacing to it, too. Still, it's an enjoyable and occasionally exciting piece with stylish action and an atmosphere all of its own. 6/10

After seeing some Kobayashi films that blew me away - specifically Kaidan and Seppuku, I was in the mood for some more Japanese cinema. I'm not any more. Tokyo Drifter and Seijun Suzuki have something of a cult reputation. I failed to see the appeal. The direction was static and Suzuki simply doesn't know how to tell a coherent story.

Some people liked the colors. I personally found it to be as garish as anything from 60's-early 70's Indian cinema. There was no sense of style, little action and no characterization. I can't recall one set piece or moment of even moderate interest. The only unique thing was seeing the title character singing the title song several times during the course of the film. I believe it was a lame attempt at pathos.

In short, no style, no substance, no plot or characterizations and no action. Waste of time and vastly overrated. I won't be 'exploring' Suzuki's other works.