World of Kanako, The (2015)
Starring Kôji Yakusho, Nana Komatsu, Satoshi Tsumabuki 
Directed by Tetsuya Nakashima
More than a year after its Japanese premiere, Tetsuya Nakashima’s latest crime-thriller, The World of Kanako (released as Kawaki overseas), finally sees its official Stateside release on December 4th, thanks to the folks at Drafthouse Films, who have an affinity for the latest in provocative independent and foreign films. Having spent the last decade honing his craft and making waves in Japanese cinema through such visionary — and controversial — works as Kamikaze Girls, Memories of Matsuko, and Confessions, Nakashima’s latest effort continues to dive headfirst into the themes of despair, depravity, and revenge.
The World of Kanako is a twisted tale about a desperate man searching for his missing, and increasingly enigmatic, daughter. Even in its most marketable packaging, the film is an audacious one that is sure to shake up the holiday season. It will also, however, continue to solidify Nakashima as a universal cinematic force to be reckoned with — for those few who might still need convincing.
Based on a novel by Akio Fukamachi, The World of Kanako follows Akikazu Fujishima (Yakusho), a damaged and disintegrating ex-detective whose life is shaken up even more when his estranged wife informs him that their daughter, Kanako (Komatsu), has gone missing. The news opens the first of many old wounds in Akikazu, reconnecting him with a painful part of his life that is marred by guilt, shame, and betrayal. Little does he know an even darker path awaits him as he seeks to locate the daughter that seemed all too picturesque in his fractured memories.
As he continues to peel back the layers of Kanako’s furtive life, Akikazu becomes further entangled in a web of danger and violence. In a race against time, he must decide how far he is willing to traverse into the darkness to uncover the ultimate truth about his daughter… even if the cost is far greater than he could have imagined.
From the moment The World of Kanako opens with juxtaposed voices whispering “I love you” and “I’ll kill you,” followed by a Jean Cocteau quote that states, “An era is only confused by a confused mind,” one is reasonable to expect the jarring narrative onslaught that follows in Nakashima’s subversive action-thriller. As we are first thrust into the dismal booze-and-drug-soaked world of Akikazu, half-living in the throes of despondency, it is notably difficult to get one’s bearings here. The film flashes back and forth between multiple timelines, providing only brief glimpses into the course of events that sent our anti-hero into the tailspin in which we find him. As Akikazu begins his search for Kanako, a course that reawakens his sleuthing talents with an unpredictable vigilante edge, Nakashima establishes a tone that is unsettling and frantic, mirroring Akikazu’s unpredictable mental state in a way that puts the audience right in the delirious passenger seat with him.
Yakusho’s outright down-and-dirty performance of what is ultimately a very unlikable character is viscerally stunning. Recalling Choi Min-Sik’s turn in Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy, Akikazu’s increasing desperation grows to palpable levels, and the immensely talented Yakusho unapologetically commits to the emotionally charged role all the way until the last bloody frame.
Stylistically, The World of Kanako finds Nakashima echoing some of the more memorable visual motifs and themes from his previous works — notably the use of poppy imagery paired against dismal backdrops, curious soundtracks, and a deeper look into the hidden lives of Japanese youth. With The World of Kanako, Nakashima also begins to up the ante with his action sequences, implementing many frenetically choreographed moments of violence and blood-soaked shootouts in the mix, namely as we focus on Akikazu’s story. The World of Kanako is all at once a nod to yakuza films, exploitation films, arthouse cinema, and neo-noir thrillers; it gets as pulpy and outrageous as it does sentimental and brooding. The schizophrenic nature of Nakashima’s approach may cause for some initial eye-rolls at this seemingly haphazard patchwork of influences, but there is a method to the director’s madness beneath the buckets of blood that are spilled on screen. While the film’s marketing efforts have done well in conveying the hyper-violent and hallucinogenic nature of Nakashima’s visually charged film, they have not quite done justice to the more poetic aspect of the storyline that spurs all of the action.
The story of Kanako is primarily unveiled via flashbacks that begin three years prior to her disappearance, slowly shining a light on her true reputation, inner circle, and unsavory vices. Through these moments of creeping revelation, Nakashima naturally presents a startlingly frank look into youth culture, a topic for which he has expressed a great fascination over the years. As opposed to feeling outright exploitative, however, The World of Kanako approaches Kanako’s emotionally complex relationships — most notably one with the unnamed narrator character (Hiroya Shimizu) — with a delicate hand. Theirs becomes a very somber and fascinating fairy tale of sorts, if not also a maddening one to watch unfold. Nakashima approaches their moments with a vivid lens, accompanying them with a dreamy acoustic soundtrack and at times even transitioning to colorful animation sequences to heighten the surrealistic nature of Kanako’s world. Ultimately, these moments in the film are what kept me connected, as they paint a portrait of youthful yearning, loneliness, and volatility with beautifully jagged strokes. As the ultimate authority in such a magnificent world where love and hate are separated by the thinnest of lines, Komatsu imbues Kanako with a bleak beauty that is both alluring and ominously commanding.
With the parallel timelines and altogether hysterical tone injected throughout, the underlying mystery will undoubtedly leave some audiences both mentally and emotionally confounded at points. Luckily, it all comes together quite straightforwardly in the end, which is particularly why some might feel disappointed when the truth of Kanako’s whereabouts is ultimately discovered by Akikazu. For all of its bombast and convolution throughout, the film’s ending is a simple and dreary one that does not necessarily provide the closure or comeuppance that audiences might expect. Instead, we are left to consider the power that unrelenting obsession and hate can have on a person, as well as the lasting effects of trauma and betrayal. Needless to say, most will leave the theater with one hell of an unsettling emotional hangover, and while many might hate the film for it, there is something to be said for filmmakers with the gall to pull off finales like this so beautifully and with such care.
The World of Kanako is ultimately a highly stylized film, but never a hollow one, and it offers much more than blows and blood. Nakashima’s experience is as underhandedly disorienting at points as it is an outright gut punch at others and is quite unforgettable in the way it toys with and pushes its audience. While its more brazen moments may recall other notable subversive crime-thrillers in Asian cinema, Nakashima’s latest work is still quite remarkable in its own right; his keen eye for style and tonal manipulation are indeed commendable, but it is his attention to substance that truly impresses here, landing some explosive emotional grenades amidst a barrage of violence and sensory overload. That’s not to say that The World of Kanako is the poignant character drama of the year; it is very much still a polarizing, violent film; and viewers who cannot appreciate an aggressive approach will no doubt be put off by the film’s assaultive visual palette. For those willing to stick through it, however, The World of Kanako is a rewardingly complex emotional journey with an understated payoff that is more than worth the discomfort you will have to endure to reach it.
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Categorized:Reviews
