The picture starts promisingly, suggesting a yakuza melodrama told from what might have been in 1963 a unique perspective -- three naEe high school girls. One of them, Hanako (Sanae Nakahara), is a bad girl looking for kicks. A good early scene has her transfixed as one small time hood, "Diamond" Fuyu (Daizaburo Hirata), is tattooed by a one-armed artisan (Nikkatsu perennial Kinzo Shin). As Diamond screams and Hanako's two companions run off in horror, she's practically orgasmic.

The much more innocent Tokiko (Chieko Matsubara), meanwhile, is drawn to handsome Katsuta (Akira Kobayashi), of the rival Izu Gang. As is often the case with these pictures, Katsuta abides by the strict yakuza codes of honor, even as his motley gang is on the skids. As the picture begins, the Izu Gang sees its last gambling house shut down, while its ineffectual leader (Taiji Tonoyama) seems ready to chuck yakuza tradition to bring in some quick cash with a scheme to sell construction rights.

Hanako's blossoming romance with Diamond is interrupted when she decides to spend the day with shiftless, enka-singing Tetsu (Keisuke Noro). He takes her to a distant hot springs only to sell her into prostitution. (This sequence is effectively unsettling in its matter-of-factness.) Tokiko enlists Katsuta's aid to find the missing girl, and he soon learns that Diamond's sister is none other than Tatsuko Iwata (Hiroko Ito), a card dealer married to crooked gambler Okaru-Hachi (Yunosuke Ito). Katsuta had rescued Iwata when the woman's cheating was discovered in a gambling den. Katsuta paid for his gallantry with a long scar running along his cheekbone, and now, four years later, begins a tempestuous romance with the more mature woman.

Kanto Wanderer overflows with colorful characters whose relationship to one another quickly becomes entangled like ramen noodles. Both Hanako and Tokiko, positioned early on as major characters, are almost completely abandoned about a third into the narrative, with Katsuta's traditionalist yakuza playing out genre cliches through to the end. He's determined to remain true to the criminal code, even if the fight ain't worth it and the women not worth rescuing.

Suzuki and cinematographer Shigeyoshi Mine try to stir things up by stylizing selected scenes with theatrical lighting and color effects. Most notably, he uses bright primary colors linked to a banner hanging in the Izu Gang's headquarters. Backgrounds suddenly turn bright red or blue or yellow, and at one point, Suzuki and Mine use a filter which introduces a kind of hazy amber, diagonal line into the frame. It's a colorful effect, certainly, though it doesn't really add much to the film overall, either. (My Japanese wife, weaned on such pictures, was unimpressed: "How cheap!"). Such use of color quickly became quite common in Asian cinema during the 1960s and '70s, but done better in other films, both trivial (e.g., Black Tight Killers, also with Kobayashi) and genre masterworks (Female Convict Scorpion: Jailhouse 41).

Better is Suzuki's use of color with the film's ingenues, who begin the picture wearing their high school uniforms. In a less showy but interesting effect, one girl is introduced as a red train dominates the unfocused background, racing past in a bright red blur behind her. As Suzuki cuts back to her, different red cars pass in different directions, creating an interesting effect. After red is linked to the clothing worn by pre-war yakuza prisoners, Hanako is seen wearing a red dress, red pumps and holding a red purse shortly before being sold into slavery. Later two of the girls discuss losing their virginity and ultimate future with yakuza boyfriends, with Waseda University in the background. As they converse, a completely distorted university song is heard on loud speakers, its intrusion on the conversation creating a strange, discomforting effect.

Much of this experimentation doesn't seem to lead anywhere, however, while other effects, such as Hanako's Eve-like picking of and biting into a persimmon, seem ham-fisted and obvious.

Video & Audio

Kanto Wanderer looks great on DVD, a nearly flawless presentation with excellent color and a finely detailed 16:9 anamorphic transfer of this NikkatsuScope and Eastman Color production. It practically looks like a new movie. The mono sound is crisp and clear, and the optional English subtitles are accurate and easy to read.

Extras

As with Underworld Beauty a nice-to-have but otherwise useless Suzuki filmography is offered, along with an equally useless trailer. (In it, Kinzo Shin smiles at the camera, presumably happy to have two arms again.) It's in good condition and also 16:9 anamorphic, but not subtitled, so what's the point?

Parting Thoughts

Kanto Wanderer is a better-than-average yakuza melodrama, with Yasutaro Yagi's weak script (from Taiko Hirabayashi's story) livened up somewhat by Suzuki's moderately eccentric direction. It's always fun to see handsome action star Kobayashi (who also sings the title song) in his element and his gambling scenes with horse-faced character player Yunosuke Ito are expertly done. Still, neither the picture nor Suzuki's direction is particularly original or subversive. Kanto Wanderer is a well-crafted program picture, plain and simple, but doesn't live up to the hyperbole surrounding its lionized director.

Stuart Galbraith IV is a Los Angeles and Kyoto-based film historian whose work includes The Emperor and the Wolf -- The Lives and Films of Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune. He is presently writing a new book on Japanese cinema for Taschen.