An astonishing, frightening, beautiful meditation on the Hobbesian roads of Tokyo in the early 1960s pinned loosely to a portrait of a young taxi-driver, his family, colleagues and work. Not much happens- the central figure is fined for speeding, nearly has accidents, plays with his young child and goes for walks with his family, picks up a few punters (he doesn't get a fare until well over half-way through the film and there's only brief shots of the passengers) but the main concern of the film is the environment of Tokyo- low level shots of turning wheels, the closeness of pedestrians and motorists, narrow streets where cars drive and children play, driftwood floating in a harbour, workers on building sites, traffic cops isolated in the stream of traffic around them, the shape and gleam of cars and lorries, the light of empty early morning streets full of exhaust fumes. there is a constant emphasis on the dangers of the roads and finally, after the driver just avoids an accident, there is a long scene showing a wrecked car, splintered metal and broken glass everywhere, a safety-talk from the taxi company's manager and obsessive shots of the taxi-drivers practising emergency stops over and over again.
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