Jitsuroku Andô Noboru kyôdô-den: Rekka

Seemingly modeled after DEAD OR ALIVE, starting off with a stylistical hodge podge of slow-mo gunfights and paranoid posturing and sizzling in the finale with a fair share of comic-book outrageousness, Rekka succeeds as a movie not for being ultraviolent or particularly graphic (it is neither by Miike standards - although still violent enough to raise a public outcry if it was the work of a mainstream American director), not because yakuza underlings get shot full of holes or Riki Takeuchi scowls like a bulldog as he shoots rocket launchers in the middle of crowded streets (DOA homage anyone?), not for the sound and fury, but for the moments in between. In that respect, Rekka is antithetical to DOA. Whereas DOA dragged through a drab and lifeless middle act to arrive at an exciting conclusion, Rekka sustains itself through moments of quietude and intimacy. In between the outbursts of violence, Miike gives us life as lived. Takeuchi's friend giving him advice on his hair dye. The glances between Takeuchi and his Korean girlfriend. The dingy eateries, night clubs and neon-lit streets - Miike prowling Fukasaku's stampin' grounds half a century after the patriarch of the yakuza film first pictured a different kind of postwar Japan.

In the end, Rekka works so well as a movie because Miike restrains the child within him eager to shock and impress and embraces the dramatist who observes the small moments of life. The plot is mostly forgettable, something about the son of a yakuza boss going on a spree to avenge the death of his father while a gangland conspiracy festers behind and a war between the different fractions is about to break out, and Takeuchi in the leading role scowls a little too much for my liking. But overall, this is as good a yakuza flick as I've seen from Miike, violent, funny, occasionally beautiful, imaginatively conceived but hastily executed (as with most Miike films), a thoroughbred Miike flick bearing all his trademarks, one aimed at both the heart and the gut. Not a masterpiece of any kind but a worthwhile movie.

Like many people I was first turned onto the works of the great director Takashi Miike in the movie "Ichi the killer". After viewing that film I was instantly hooked to his take no prisoners style. Takashi Miike is a man that truly stretches the boundaries of violence and audacity into an art form. Several months later I was surprised to see "Deadly Outlaw Rekka" sitting on the shelves of my local Best Buy. Due to the rarity of Takashi Miike's films I bought it without hesitation, and I'm glad I did. Japanese film star Riki Takuechi (or as i like to call him, cool hair guy from "Dead or Alive") plays the roll of Kunisada, a grizzly yakuza hell bent on revenge for the death of his boss. As the story unfolds the audience becomes ensnared in webs of love, betrayal, sorrow, and revenge. Though lacking in the unbridled violence that originally drew me in to these kind of movies the gritty and often times zany style of Takashi Miike remains ever present. Overall "Deadly Outlaw Rekka" is a fantastic film that is a must have for fans of Takashi Miike or just really great action films and worthy addition to any movie collection!

excerpt, more at my location - A yakuza film is bread and butter for Takashi Miike, and Deadly Outlaw: Rekka (Jitsuroku Andô Noboru kyôdô-den: Rekka), sandwiched between the sadistic violence of Ichi The Killer and the surrealism of Gozu, is surprisingly ordinary when compared with much of the director's oeuvre. However, the straightforward nature of this 2002 film is the essence of its charm.

Deadly Outlaw: Rekka is such unabashed fun it will leave you feeling indulgent and sporting a maniacal grin from start to finish, just like the one, you might imagine subsequent to viewing, Miike wore while making it. Concentrated to an hour-and-a-half, as so few recent films are, it hits you like a shot of pure audio-visual entertainment straight in the arm.

Miike shows us in this film his outstanding gift for the yakuza genre from the first minute to the last. This time he adds a soundtrack from the Flower Traveling Band, Satori, a Doom Metal key album from 1971 that makes those master shoots, of perfect color, shine without stopping during the cinematographic experience he proposes. His characters flow before the viewer like a handful of impossible to stop Japanese scarfaces. Shinjuku, mafia, escorts, magic and Rock and Roll !!

Miike makes another yakuza picture. It's not especially groundbreaking, and it's certainly not one of Miike's deeper films, but it is extremely entertaining. That's mostly because of the main character, Kunisada (Miike regular Riki Takeuchi), who is the most psychopathic character in Japanese movies since Tatsuya Nakadai's evil samurai in Sword of Doom. Kunisada's mob boss, his surrogate father, is ambushed and murdered (though not before nearly strangling his assailant to death; the hit-man only lives because he cuts the dead man's hands off as they clench around his windpipe). Simultaneously, Kunisada, almost as if through a psychic bond, breaks out of jail and starts to go against the rival gang. The only problem is that the boss's death isn't necessarily a bad thing from his own gang's perspective. They and their rival gang try desperately to make a truce. Unfortunately for everyone, except for a small handful of loyal comrades, Kunisada won't stop until everyone around him is dead. The film suffers from Miike's major flaw as a filmmaker: a lack of coherency. There seem to be dozens of named characters, and it becomes very difficult to sort out who everyone is. I had to watch key scenes a second time to piece it all together (though I had most of it straight by the end of the film). But, even if you never quite figure it out, Miike's patented break-neck action sequences are so outrageously done that the film is more than worth watching. Watch out when Kunisada finds a rocket launcher!