120 Minutes, Color, Japan, 2000

Written By: Ryuhei Kitamura & Yûdai Yamaguchi

Directed By: Ryuhei Kitamura

Dramatis Personae:

(Note: The characters in this movie actually don’t HAVE names, so the names you will see here are just nicknames I have given them based on their personality traits.)

Tak Sakaguchi is Our Hero, taciturn badass escaped prisoner with deadly aim and perfect hair.

Hideo Sakaki is Our Villain, indestructible necromancer, and the most laid-back supervillain in the history of film.

Chieko Misaka is The Girl, cute and enigmatic young woman, and Our Hero’s budding love interest.

Kenji Mastuda is Joker, skinny, well-dressed, knife-wielding psycho.

Yuichiro Arai is Joey, The Japanese Ramone, leather-clad motorcycle-riding kung-fu badass.

Minoru Matsumodo is Ratboy, panicky member of the gang.

Kazuhito Ohba is Chad, The Sensitive Yakuza, gang member with the most guns and the nicest sweater.

Yukihito Tanikado is Nutjob, crazy police officer in pursuit of Our Hero.

Shôichirô Matsumodo is Lefty, another crazy police office in pursuit of Our Hero.

Takehiro Katayama is Agent Carrot Top, silent red-haired assassin.

Ayumi Yoshihara is Osaka Jane, gunslinging Goth Chick assassin.

Hoshimi Asai is Chun-Li, martial arts mistress assassin.

Ryosuke Watabe is Zeppo, ill-fated Chow Yun-Fat wannabe in an alligator suit (don’t get attached to him).

Motonari Komiya is Deadmeat, Our Hero’s fellow escaped prisoner (don’t get attached to him, either).

Toshiro Kamiaka is Jack, undead-slaying samurai warrior from the prologue (again…don’t get too attached).

Commentary:

I’ve come to realize that I’ve been remiss. It’s been nearly two years since I opened The Pit, and I haven’t discussed a single Japanese movie. The fault is mine; it’s a gap in my film education that I’ve been reluctant to fill. Reluctant, because, for the most part, Japanese films disturb me. Call me the Stupid American if you will, but, well, Japan plays by a whole different set of rules when it comes to filmmaking. Japanese filmmakers do things with imagery, with storytelling, and with internal morality that their American counterparts don’t. They are disturbing because they are unfamiliar – particularly Japanese horror movies, which tend to frighten me on a level that American horror movies just can’t. It’s uncharted territory for me, without familiar landmarks, and is thus even scarier.

But one must move beyond the familiar if one is to grow, and so it’s high time I plunge into the world of modern Japanese film. Thus, Versus. Admittedly, it’s a baby step: it’s an action movie, and violence is one of those universal languages. There’s not a whole lot profundity or soul-shaking ideas on display here, nor should there be. Because Ryuhei Kitamura – in this, his first feature-length movie, no less – clearly understands the first rule of making an action movie: if you want your movie to stand out, you must make it as UNBEARABLY COOL AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE. And if nothing else, Versus is UNBEARABLY COOL. And THAT is a universal language too.

The story gets rolling with some on-screen text which basically sets up the entire plot: scattered throughout the world are 666 portals to the underworld, and one of them is located in Japan, in a stretch of woodland referred to as the “Forest of Resurrection.” As the movie proper begins, we find out why it has this particular name. Sometime in 16^th-century Japan, a lone samurai (whom I have dubbed “Jack” for obvious reasons) hacks and slashes his way through the Forest of Resurrection, fighting a small army of the Undead. The zombie warriors are no match for Jack’s skill, but when he reaches a clearing by a riverbank, he faces a dark wizard who handily defeats him, cutting him in two. With Jack dispatched, the wizard now turns his attention to another, gravely wounded warrior staring him down from across the riverbank…and here the prologue ends.

Flash forward to the modern day. Two men in prisoner’s uniforms are fleeing for their lives over rocky woodland. These are Our Hero and Deadmeat, who were being transported together (there is a handcuff dangling from Our Hero’s wrist, and there is a severed hand in the other cuff – a little touch that will pay off later). Deadmeat has connections with the yakuza, and they are on their way to meet his gang. When the gang pulls up in a spiffy little car (and Joey on his own motorcycle), there’s instantly trouble. The flamboyant Joker and the laconic Our Hero immediately dislike each other, and things start to get even more complicated when the gang reveals The Girl. On orders from their boss, they kidnapped her and brought her with them, and it’s implied that Deadmeat had similar orders regarding Our Hero. They weren’t told why they needed to bring both of them here, just that they needed to be here alive and relatively unharmed. Our Hero doesn’t care for this state of affairs: he doesn’t like to see women being mistreated, and The Girl seems somehow familiar to him…and he to her as well. Things get tense quickly, and soon go from tense to violent: with catlike reflexes, Our Hero wrestles Ratboy’s gun away from him and kills Zeppo. Joker is about to go Gotham City on Our Hero’s ass, but in a few moments the yakuza have an even bigger problem: Zeppo suddenly stands up and starts attacking the nearest living body. All the main characters immediately put aside their differences to put several pounds of lead into their undead companion, and he finally goes down after a well-placed shot from Our Hero.

That done, everyone stands around shocked and appalled…except for Joker. A curious sociopath is a dangerous thing, because he immediately puts a bullet in Deadmeat’s head, just to see if he’ll rise again too. He does, and while the yakuza are occupied with another undead menace, Our Hero and The Girl slip away into the forest.

Once things calm down a little, Our Hero and The Girl get to know each other a little, and find out something alarming. They both seem to be suffering from some kind of selective amnesia: neither of them can clearly remember any details of their lives before being brought to this forest. Although they do seem vaguely familiar to one another, as does the forest itself. Our Hero gets a change of clothes from a nearby corpse, and they continue to flee deeper in the forest, with Joey, seemingly the only halfway competent member of the gang, in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, the rest of the yakuza reach a clearing, and Ratboy has a disturbing realization. Like any good low-level organized crime figures, these guys have been dumping the bodies of assorted victims in a remote location. THIS remote location. This glade is the final resting place of dozens of people, many of whom were killed directly by these guys. And the graves are all open.

Oops.

Sure enough, vengeful zombies soon gather to get their revenge. And since at least a few of them were buried with their guns, the yakuza have ARMED vengeful zombies to deal with. Fortunately Chad brought a lot of firepower, and Joker seems to be really enjoying himself (something’s not right with this guy. Seriously). As soon as shots start getting fired, Joey and Our Hero decide to once again put aside their differences and lend a hand dealing with the undead. In the chaos, Ratboy grabs The Girl and runs for it, and once the shooting is over Our Hero goes after them. The remaining yakuza then have a falling out: Joey shows loyalty to their boss, insisting that Our Hero and The Girl must be taken alive. Joker responds by having Chad shoot him in the back. Because Joker has his own plans: he wants to kill the boss and take over the gang himself, and he’s expecting a team of hitmen any moment who will help him do it when the boss arrives. He and Chad go off to meet the hitmen, leaving Joey to bleed out.

As Our Hero catches up with Ratboy and easily defeats him (though he doesn’t kill him, at The Girl’s insistence), in another part of the forest, Nutjob and Lefty climb out of the wreckage of their car. These are the cops who were transporting Our Hero and Deadmeat, and the severed hand that was dangling from Our Hero’s wrist belonged to Lefty. Thirsting for revenge, the two cops are determined to recapture the escapees. Oh, and they’re both FRIGGING INSANE. Crazed by the loss of his hand, Lefty is not above killing an innocent passing motorist to take his car. Meanwhile Nutjob carries around the largest rifle ever recorded on film, and constantly makes boasts about his combat abilities that make the Baron Munchausen sound modest.

Meanwhile, the yakuza boss, Our Villain, has finally arrived on the scene. And sharp-eyed viewers will realize that he was also the dark wizard from the prologue. Joker and Chad immediately put their plan in motion, setting the assassins on him. But to no avail; Our Villain proves to be bulletproof as well as inhumanly fast and strong, and makes short work of both the assassins and the traitorous yakuza. He then resurrects them as his undead servants, and sends them on Our Hero’s trail.

Eventually, Our Villain catches up with Our Hero, and finally the plot is revealed: Our Villain wants to open the portal to the underworld located in the forest. The Girl has something magical in her blood, and that coupled with a human sacrifice – Our Hero, or so Our Villain intends – will open the gate. Then, the 16^th-century prologue is brought into proper context: the mortally-wounded warrior the dark wizard faced was Our Hero in a past life, and he fought to protect a previous incarnation of The Girl. Rather than be used for this evil purpose, The Girl had Our Hero kill her, and in turn Our Villain killed him out of revenge. Our Villain has waited five centuries for the three of them to reincarnate at the same time, and now he plans to finish what he started all those years ago.

Versus is one of those rare movies that successfully manages to coast by on its own coolness. The plot doesn’t make a whole lot of sense – we don’t even get an idea of what’s going on until halfway into the movie – but you’re having too much fun watching to care. The movie is insane, completely over the top in terms of action sequences and colorful characters, and is not only aware of its own insanity, but revels in it. Ryuhei Kitamura is a filmmaker in the same vein as Robert Rodriguez: like a kid in a candy store, he throws everything he loves about action movies into one big pot. The end result is a sugar rush: no nutritional value whatsoever, but oh so tasty.

Nowhere is this attitude more evident in the naming of the characters – in that, they don’t have any. They don’t NEED names; they are devices to move the movie along from action sequence to action sequence, and the movie acknowledges this by not even bothering to name them. And you know what? That’s perfectly okay. They are action movie stock characters, boiled down to their most basic elements. The taciturn anti-hero with the troubled past. The smug superior bad guy. The colorful henchmen. The cute but ultimately useless heroine. They do what the movie requires them to do, and they do it well: they fight, they shoot zombies, and they look cool while doing it. Our Hero’s perfect hair is never mussed, not even when he’s being shot. None of the yakuza ever seem to have to reload, despite having expended enough ammo to conquer a small Third World Nation. It’s ludicrous and unrealistic, and that’s why it works. It takes a very careful director to find that balance. To make the completely absurd look unbearably cool. And Kitamura can do it.

Kitamura even manages to put a few unique touches in his movie. A few, dare I say it, distinctly JAPANESE touches. Besides the underlying theme of reincarnation and the presence of a corresponding spirit world, we have here the very Japanese notion of the “noble enemy.” Our Villain is not your typical Western antagonist; he’s shockingly casual and mellow. His image is a notable counterpoint to his flamboyant henchmen; he arrives simply dressed in a t-shirt and leather jacket, and he never pitches a fit or raises his voice to his underlings. He’s got a sort of Gen-X charisma to him. Make no mistake; he IS the bad guy here. He wants to open the Gates of Hell, after all. But aside from that, he actually seems like a pretty nice guy. Having to wait five centuries to fulfill his nefarious scheme seems to have taught him the value of patience. Even when he gears up for his final battle with Our Hero, he remains philosophical about the outcome. He knows it’s not a given he will succeed, but he’s willing to see things through to the end anyway. Very few supervillains have that sense of honor.

So, Versus is indeed unbearably cool. An action movie of the kind that simply isn’t made in America. But there’s something bittersweet about it, upon further reflection. This was a case of lightning in a bottle: the first feature-length film for Ryuhei Kitamura, and the first feature film for many of the actors involved as well. There’s a real sense of first-time enthusiasm in the film, that exuberance of people making their first big movie and having a real good time doing it. And while that’s a great thing and often makes a great movie, it’s not something that’s really repeatable. Lightning rarely strikes twice. But at the least, when it DID strike, it made for a whole lot of fun. And it made me want to seek out more Japanese films. So, maybe you’ll be seeing more of the same in The Pit in the near future.

…except maybe the horror movies. I’m not sure I’m ready for those yet.

Things To Look For:

- The swords. Our Hero and Our Villain go at each other in their final battle armed with swords, and even the swords are cool in this movie. Our Hero is armed with an oversized katana (an ogatana, perhaps?) made of black steel, equipped with a trigger-like finger guard and a little auxiliary blade in the pommel. Our Villain opts for something more modern, in a Kurgan/Cloud Strife modular thing which he carries around in a suitcase and assembles before the final battle (in a cool montage, of course). They’re neat to look at, and perhaps a bit representative of each wielder’s personality: the modern villain versus the old-school samurai.

- Speaking of very Japanese touches, I find myself wondering something about Chad. I’ve watched enough anime to pick up on a few established conventions – the most notable of which being the effeminate badass. I’ve lost count of the number of anime series I’ve seen where the prettiest men imaginable can also kick enormous amounts of ass. Basically, the more you look like a girl, the more damage you can do. And in Versus we have Kazuhito Ohba with his long lustrous hair and sensitive-man glasses and his soft fuzzy sweater…and his massive personal arsenal of firearms. I can’t help but wonder if this dichotomy was intentional…

- Versus is a gory movie, to be sure. It features zombies and superpowered humans doing damage to one another. But the gore is actually pretty clever. We have hearts ripped out and EATEN. We have severed heads used as weapons. We have several gags at Lefty’s expense. As the gore is played for laughs – and for awesome, in the case of the heart-eating scene – it becomes less disturbing. And just part of the fun.

- There is a twist ending to the film, but it’s significantly less annoying than your average twist ending. Mainly because the ending really reflects the central philosophy of the movie: this central theme of reincarnation of these characters, and their constantly being drawn together. The battle between good and evil is never finally resolved. It just continues as long as the world turns.

Written words (c) 2008-2010 Tim o'Brien. Not to be used without permission. Other content, including images, is intended as a Fair Use pursuant to 17 U.S.C. sec. 107.

Date Posted: October 9^th, 2008

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