reluctant to make. For 30 years the character had been portrayed on film and television by the hugely-popular actor Shintaro Katsu, and Kitano understandably did not want to compete with Katsu or imitate him. When Katsu’s friend and patron Madame Saito entreated Kitano to make the film, he eventually agreed on the condition that, physically and psy- chologically, he could make the character his own. The result is a film with a hero who is an eccentric outsider with inexplicably bleached-blonde hair and a blood-red cane and a villain who, according to Kitano, is a killing machine. While Katsu’s Zatôichi was sympathetic and kindly and had morality firmly on his side, Kitano’s incarnation is aloof and detached; when he helps the geisha it is for the same reason he fixes a fallen scare- crow that almost trips him up – because they are obstacles in his path. We learn nothing of his past – he mumbles and chuckles his way through the film, with his eyes closed and head bowed down throughout – but this impenetrability is compelling, and Kitano’s subdued performance is arguably the best element of the film.
According to Kitano, ‘the spectacle in Zatôichi was as important as the central intrigue of the protagonist’, and the spectacle consists of dazzlingly-fast sword play with lashings of CGI blood, broad knockabout comedy, and charming musical interludes, culminating in the final scene when the entire cast break into an impressive tap-dancing routine. In the original script, the camera was supposed to pull back at this point to reveal the crew and cameras; this originally-intended touch clearly indi- cates a director very much at play, and in this sense it is easy to believe Kitano, who came to fame as a stand-up comedian, when he insists that he still considers himself to be a comic before anything else. Problems arise when Zatôichi takes itself too seriously. Perhaps it is because the protagonist does not care about anyone around him that it is difficult for the audience to do so; the depressing histories of the geisha and the bodyguard unfold at length in elaborate flashbacks and yet carry no emotional weight, making the film desperately slow at times. The script was rewritten at Madame Saito’s behest to include the geisha plot and it is perhaps a plot too many, with its deadly seriousness wholly out of place in what is essentially a light-hearted and playful film.
alanna donaldson
Zatôichi
studio:
Bandai Visual, Tokyo FM, Dentsu, TV Asahi, Saito Entertainment & Office Kitano
director: Takeshi Kitano producer: Chieko Saito screenwriters: Takeshi Kitano
Kan Shimosawa (original novels)
cinematographer: Katsumi Yanagishima art director: Norihiro Isoda composer: Keiichi Suzuki editor: Takeshi Kitano duration: 116 minutes cast: Takeshi Kitano Tadanobu Asano Michiyo Ookusu year: 2003
c
ontemporar
y
Bloc
KB
u
st
ers
In 2006, Japanese films finally overturned the dominance of Hollywood productions to capture over 50 per cent of the local box office. This was the first time that local produc- tions had reached such a figure in twenty years and, by 2008, Japanese films had extended their market-share to almost 60 per cent. Whilst, in the preceding years, anime such as Studio Ghibli’s Princess Mononoke (1997) and Spirited Away (2001) had broken Japanese box office records, the main force behind this more recent trend was not so much animation as a wave of successful Japanese live-action films. Although individual films may still not have the audience appeal of Miyazaki’s summer hits, in 2008 over two dozen live-action productions were able to achieve ‘hit’ status, grossing in excess of 10 billion yen. Whilst not all of these are special- effects-driven spectaculars, Japanese films have undoubt- edly benefitted from higher budgets, a renewed interest in local stars and wider changes in distribution and exhibition. Therefore, it is necessary to examine the re-emergence of the blockbuster in Japan and its industrial and aesthetic contexts.
Since the post-war development of colour and widescreen technology, the Japanese film industry has found itself strug- gling to compete with the appeal of big-budget Hollywood spectaculars. In the 1950s innovative local producers quickly tried to duplicate the aesthetics of Hollywood epics. But whilst films such as Emperor Meiji and the Great Russo-Japanese
War (1957) were an enormous success in the domestic market,
exporting such local spectaculars, particularly outside of Asia, proved to be a far more difficult proposition. Here, the attempts of producer Masaichi Nagata to win over global audiences with 70mm productions such as Buddha (1961) and
The Great Wall (1962) also ended in failure. After the difficul-
ties major film-producing countries suffered with the migration
Contemporary Blockbusters 105 The Bullet Train, 1975. Produced by Toei
of audiences to television, Hollywood’s fortunes were revived in the 1970s, thanks in part to the emergence of the must-see summer ‘blockbuster’. Again, Japanese producers tried to respond, with films such as The Bullet Train (1975) duplicat- ing elements of the disaster film and Kinji Fukusaku’s Message from Space (1979) attempting to draw on the success of science-fiction films such as Star Wars (1977). Without the equivalent financial resources of Hollywood, however, Japanese blockbusters from the 1970s again struggled to match their rivals, this time even in the local market.
Without the budgets to match Hollywood productions, or the same kind of international appeal, the major Japanese studios gradually moved towards focusing on anime as the best means to safeguard their domestic interests. Whilst during the 1980s and 90s, Hollywood films gradually established a domi- nant position in Japan, regular instalments of sure-fire hits such as the Doraemon or Detective Conan series at least offered the local studios a more stable stream of income than the hit-or-miss risks of live-action film. This strategy, of course, also worked to the advantage of Toho partner Studio Ghibli, but whilst the record-breaking feats of Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away may appear as the culmination of the decision to focus on anime, the success of these particular films was also indicative of industrial changes that could ultimately assist with the resurgence of live-action blockbusters. Here one of the forces behind Ghibli’s two record-breakers was the role of the multiplex cinema. As in some other countries such as South Korea, the multiplex was slower to arrive in Asian terri- tories than in Europe and North America. Together with its modern, comfortable surroundings, an improved ticketing system and the possibility of a wider release on multiple screens, the multiplex was highly effective in drawing Japanese audi- ences back to the cinema.
What also improved the potential for local live-action films, however, were the links between multiplexes and further structural changes in the organization of the industry. One important factor has been the way in which the Japanese studios, and in particular Toho, have strengthened the vertical integration of distribution and exhibition through multiplex ownership. Indeed much of Toho’s market dominance has been achieved through its position as the largest multiplex chain in Japan. This has taken place in a context in which, like the Hollywood majors, the Japanese studios have divested the most risky part of the film business, production, to independent companies. Whilst Toho was involved as distributor of the two breakout live-action hits Bayside Shakedown (1998), and Bayside Shakedown 2 (2003), the driving force behind these films was one of Japan’s five major commercial broadcasters, Fuji Television. Although some broadcasters have previously supported film production (see the relation between Ghibli and NTV), with the terrestrial television sector a largely satu- rated market, all five national broadcasters (also including TBS, TV Asahi and TV Tokyo) have increased their involvement with film. While the funding from such wealthy companies has helped facilitate larger budgets, the Japanese film industry has also benefited from smaller companies with a strong experience in using special effects. In this context, Robot, a Japanese CM (television commer- cial) company, has also emerged as an important player in the production sector, involved in films such as the Bayside Shakedown franchise, Always – Sunset on
Third Street (2005), and Umizaru 2 (2006).
The links to broadcasters have also provided valuable synergies for the film industry. Not only are the broadcasters useful for helping to promote films across their media outlets (including television, magazines and radio) but a number of hit films have been adaptations or spin-offs from popular television series. This
includes Fuji Television’s Bayside Shakedown series and the highest-grossing local film of 2007, Hero, starring SMAP member Kimura Takuya. In trying to capi- talize on media synergies, one trend has been to develop film projects through film committees (iinkai). Whilst there can be a number of committee partners, these will invariably include a distributor, a broadcasting company and a book or manga publisher who, as investors, all work together to decide how a project can be developed to complement their individual commercial interests. This is one of the reasons why contemporary blockbuster films will often only form one part in a media ‘chain’ based on the same franchise. The Death Note films (2006/2008), for instance, are part of a range of franchise products including manga, a television anime series, video games and a novel. Japanese advertis- ing giant Dentsu has also often acted as a member of film committees. Aside from any merchandising tie-ins, Dentsu also works as a leading talent agency and their involvement allows films to draw on popular clients from across the worlds of film, music and television.
The strategic nature of these film committees has led some Japanese critics such as Morihiko Saito to condemn this system as inherently conformist through avoiding risk and restricting creativity. This is in addition to long-standing com- plaints about the conservative values of the commercial broadcasters. Whilst special effects driven films have incorporated a variety of different subject mat- ters and genres, it perhaps requires a greater precision to assess whether this is only a surface diversity that echoes Hollywood practices in which studios are linked to a ‘portfolio’ of different projects in the expectation that, in an unpre- dictable market, at least something is likely to attract audiences. There have, however, been some more concrete changes in audience demographics and one feature of the Japanese multiplex has been the ability to attract more young women to the cinema. Drawing on television drama or shojo manga, many film blockbusters, such as Umizaru 2, contain romantic elements that might prove too sentimental or melodramatic to European and American audiences. How- ever, other recent films have moved closer to incorporating Hollywood romantic conventions. Whilst this may seem a step closer to global homogenization, blockbuster films with more independent female leads, such as K-20: Legend of
the Mask (2008), can nevertheless offer a challenge to Japan’s entrenched sexual
inequalities. The importance of this trend is reflected in the star images of a new generation of popular film actresses, including Aoi Miyazaki, Ko Shibusawa, Takako Matsu and Anna Tsuchiya.
There are, however, other ways in which we must consider the place of Japanese blockbusters within the nexus of the global and the local. Despite impressive box-office results in Japan, most blockbuster films have not received any kind of theatrical or DVD release in Europe or America, and even those that have, such as the Death Note series, still made the vast majority of their revenue in the domestic market. As the popularity of South Korean blockbusters in Asia has started to wane, Japanese films have been gradually making inroads into some other East and South East Asian markets. These still, however, remain far smaller territories, with low ticket prices. Thus, as I would also argue was the case with the majority of South Korean blockbusters, Japanese blockbusters have so far predominantly been directed towards a national rather than ‘trans- national’ audience. Whilst the business infrastructure of Toho and the commer- cial broadcasters is primarily orientated towards Japan, the increasing global circulation of Japanese media such as games, television anime and manga may forge a greater overseas interest in Japanese blockbusters. With the entrenched position of Hollywood films, however, there nevertheless appear to be almost
insurmountable boundaries for Japanese live-action blockbusters to win a wide release in European or North American multiplexes.
Despite the trend for Hollywood remakes of successful Asian films, the power of local films in the Japanese market (and to a limited extent in other Asian countries) has evidently been such as to persuade the Hollywood major Warner Brothers to start investing in local productions. This is also indicative of Warner’s wider strategy in other international territories and their position as the second- largest multiplex owner in Japan. With the vast majority of Japanese blockbust- ers released in conjunction with Toho, there has also been increasing concern as to whether the company is heading towards a monopolistic position in the Japanese market. Whilst the repercussions of the 2008 global economic crisis are still unclear, if the Japanese majors (Toho, Toei, Shochiku) are able to retain a position of health this might also see local blockbusters further eroding the possibilities for the release of more creative films made outside the iinkai system. One effect of industrial changes has been to see some directors moving out of the independent sector and into studio productions. This includes the notorious pink film director Zeze Takahasa with his thriller, Pandemic (2009), and the vari- ous big budget projects directed by Takashi Miike. Whilst it will be a challenge for Miike to reduplicate the creative heights of Audition (1999) while operating in the studio sector, his continued presence might further complicate any simple attempt to divide the local from the global and the mainstream from a spirit of independence.