'Dororo' a tale of lost opportunity (and body parts).
By Andrez Bergen (Daily Yomiuri/de-VICE).
Directed by Akihiko Shiota. Cast: Ko Shibasaki, Satoshi Tsumabuki, Kiichi Nakai, Mieko Harada, Kumiko Aso.
There are so many reasons why Dororo, touted by Toho as a supernatural samurai action flick, ought to succeed in such a cross-genre context.
One: Its fight sequences are supervised by Ching Siu-tung - the man who choreographed the giddy brawls in Zhang Yimou's martial art romps House of Flying Daggers (2004) and Hero (2002), and previously directed the hilarious Jet Lee/Takeshi Kaneshiro action spoof, Dr. Wai and the Scripture Without Words (1996).
Next: There's the pivotal acting triumvirate of Ko Shibasaki, who was a revelation as the ruthless Mitsuko in Batoru Rowaiaru (aka Battle Royale, 2000), along with Satoshi Tsumabuki (Waterboys), and Kiichi Nakai.
Nakai was as eloquently dramatic in Mibu Gishi Den (When the Last Sword is Drawn, 2003) as he was effortlessly funny in the "Samurai Cellular" segment of filmic anthology Yo nimo Kimyo na Monogatari: Eiga no Tokubetsuhen (Tales of the Unusual, 2000).
Lastly, the story: originally a manga series penned in the late '60s by the late Osamu Tezuka - he who also created the legendary Tetsuwan Atomu (Astro Boy) and Janguru Taitei (Kimba the White Lion).
Yet, in spite of all these positives, director Akihiko Shiota conspires to produce a live-action movie lacking in ingredients essential for any genre: a decent plot, solid acting, or believable special effects.
For starters, Shibasaki is just too old (at 25) to kid around playing the wild, street-smart child thief of the title, and Tsumabuki lacks the charismatic stamina to retain the focus as the film's lead.
Nakai, our hero's misguided father, summons up a surprisingly lackluster performance; he's merely nonplussed even about having five arrows stuck in his back while conjuring up a host of evil demons.
These actors, along with the criminally underused Mieko Harada (an Akira Kurosawa veteran), suffer at the hands of Shiota, who previously helmed irresolute outings like Kanaria (2005) and Yomigaeri (2002).
More pertinently, Tezuka's original source material borders upon the macabre, which in this context undermines what really aspires to be a light-hearted buddy movie.
Perhaps the scribe's expert knowledge as the holder of a medical degree accounts for this uncomfortable focus, and the way in which the yarn offers a strenuous nod in the direction of Frankenstein's monster.
It goes like this: Hyakkimaru (Tsumabuki) is born without 48 body parts, because they were filched from him in a prenatal deal initialed by his samurai dad (Nakai) with those aforementioned demons.
The baby, which brings to mind Eraserhead, is lobbed into a casket and launched down a river, all Moses-like, then chances to be rescued by an alchemist who has the ability to fashion replacement parts - just so Hyakkimaru can head out, team up with the boisterous Dororo (Shibasaki), slay the demons, and retrieve his real bits and pieces.
Different scenes suggest a diverse array of influences. One tavern scene looks like it came straight from Conan the Barbarian, while some talking rats seem to be accessories from The Goodies.
It's all too clear that Shiota - like Tezuka before him - isn't quite sure whether to pursue the supernatural, the bawdy, a good laugh, or full-on action - and instead confuses the whole caboodle.
The movie opens today. (Jan. 27, 2007)
By Andrez Bergen (Daily Yomiuri/de-VICE).
Directed by Akihiko Shiota. Cast: Ko Shibasaki, Satoshi Tsumabuki, Kiichi Nakai, Mieko Harada, Kumiko Aso.
There are so many reasons why Dororo, touted by Toho as a supernatural samurai action flick, ought to succeed in such a cross-genre context.
One: Its fight sequences are supervised by Ching Siu-tung - the man who choreographed the giddy brawls in Zhang Yimou's martial art romps House of Flying Daggers (2004) and Hero (2002), and previously directed the hilarious Jet Lee/Takeshi Kaneshiro action spoof, Dr. Wai and the Scripture Without Words (1996).
Next: There's the pivotal acting triumvirate of Ko Shibasaki, who was a revelation as the ruthless Mitsuko in Batoru Rowaiaru (aka Battle Royale, 2000), along with Satoshi Tsumabuki (Waterboys), and Kiichi Nakai.
Nakai was as eloquently dramatic in Mibu Gishi Den (When the Last Sword is Drawn, 2003) as he was effortlessly funny in the "Samurai Cellular" segment of filmic anthology Yo nimo Kimyo na Monogatari: Eiga no Tokubetsuhen (Tales of the Unusual, 2000).
Lastly, the story: originally a manga series penned in the late '60s by the late Osamu Tezuka - he who also created the legendary Tetsuwan Atomu (Astro Boy) and Janguru Taitei (Kimba the White Lion).
Yet, in spite of all these positives, director Akihiko Shiota conspires to produce a live-action movie lacking in ingredients essential for any genre: a decent plot, solid acting, or believable special effects.
For starters, Shibasaki is just too old (at 25) to kid around playing the wild, street-smart child thief of the title, and Tsumabuki lacks the charismatic stamina to retain the focus as the film's lead.
Nakai, our hero's misguided father, summons up a surprisingly lackluster performance; he's merely nonplussed even about having five arrows stuck in his back while conjuring up a host of evil demons.
These actors, along with the criminally underused Mieko Harada (an Akira Kurosawa veteran), suffer at the hands of Shiota, who previously helmed irresolute outings like Kanaria (2005) and Yomigaeri (2002).
More pertinently, Tezuka's original source material borders upon the macabre, which in this context undermines what really aspires to be a light-hearted buddy movie.
Perhaps the scribe's expert knowledge as the holder of a medical degree accounts for this uncomfortable focus, and the way in which the yarn offers a strenuous nod in the direction of Frankenstein's monster.
It goes like this: Hyakkimaru (Tsumabuki) is born without 48 body parts, because they were filched from him in a prenatal deal initialed by his samurai dad (Nakai) with those aforementioned demons.
The baby, which brings to mind Eraserhead, is lobbed into a casket and launched down a river, all Moses-like, then chances to be rescued by an alchemist who has the ability to fashion replacement parts - just so Hyakkimaru can head out, team up with the boisterous Dororo (Shibasaki), slay the demons, and retrieve his real bits and pieces.
Different scenes suggest a diverse array of influences. One tavern scene looks like it came straight from Conan the Barbarian, while some talking rats seem to be accessories from The Goodies.
It's all too clear that Shiota - like Tezuka before him - isn't quite sure whether to pursue the supernatural, the bawdy, a good laugh, or full-on action - and instead confuses the whole caboodle.
The movie opens today. (Jan. 27, 2007)