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Youth of the Beast (The Criterion Collection)

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I must dissagree with Sean's analysis. While <I>Branded to Kill</I> is certainly a stylistic masterpiece. This film makes <I>Tokyo Drifter</I> seem like a game of Candyland. Ever tongue in cheek, Seijun once again takes a brilliant jab at the Japanese psyche, and wounds once again. With all the camp of a B movie, the cinematic brilliance of an Orson Welles in Hong Kong, Seijun takes on, once again, the crippled self-image of postwar Japan. Replete with a visceral display of corruption, and the seedier underbelly of power that has held sway through out Japan's last several centuries.

This is one of the best Japanese crime films of the 1960's, to have seen release in the United States! It is also, arguably, one of the best films by the amazing "outlaw" director, Suzuki Seijun. This was Suzuki-sensei's "breakthrough" film; in as much as it was the first film where he truly let his flamboyant, dizzying, artistic sense come forward. Full of intense, innovative, eye-popping visuals, the film never loses its solid, pulp fiction narrative flow. This is thanks, in part, to a great script based on the novel by Japanese "hard-boiled" master, Oyabu Haruhiko. A great story (though somewhat typical in the Japanese "gangster" tradition), brilliant direction, and wonderful performances (especially by the always great, Shishido Jo)-- all help to make this an outstanding example of the Japanese thriller!

Suzuki Seijun hasn't made a dull film yet. A contract worker for most of his career, he could take the most cliche-ridden assignment and turn it into gold.

"Youth of the Beast" ("Yaju no Seishun") is no exception. A typical revenge-plot, with the "good cop" posing as "bad cop" to get in good with the gangsters before enacting his vengeance, Suzuki takes it up a notch with innovative camera work and vivid, colorful imagery. By no means the wild ride of something like "Branded to Kill," it is still a quality Yakuza flick, Suzuki-style. There is more than a hint of "Yojimbo" in this film, but the similarities are soon forgotten.

Suzuki's visuals are well-served by tough-guy standby Shishido Jo, famous for his plastic surgery to give himself a more rugged look. Veteran of many of Suzuki's flicks, he brings an authenticity and a grounding-point in the convoluted world of gang-politics. Watanabe Misako brings a nice tenderness to the tough-guy world, as the wife of a detective who was killed.

The Criterion DVD for "Youth of the Beast" is fairly bare-boned, on par with their release for Suzuki's "Fighting Elegy." The picture is lovely, the original soundtrack and dialog are preserved, and it is a film not likely to be offered elsewhere. One could have hoped for more on the DVD release, but it is nice to have it available at all.

Seijun Suzuki is one of the more polarizing and ambiguous figures in Japanese cinema. Genius? Madman? Something in between? Perhaps it doesn't matter, the differences between these positions are in any case, quite sleight. An amazingly prolific director - he directed over forty films in the 1960s alone - his very productivity helped lend credibility to those who dismissed him as B-movie man, preeminent among these to be sure, but a B-movie man nonetheless. In recent years, however, his work has been increasingly appreciated, particularly in the West.

In large measure, this uptick in esteem is can be traced to the film industry finally catching up to Suzuki. His classic mid-60s films (Youth of the Beast, Gate of Flesh, Tokyo Drifter and Branded to Kill) featured a powerful combination of brutal, explicit and often sadistic violence, morbid humor, a keen sense of the ridiculous and a visual and narrative style that is fractured and often hallucinatory, all held together (or, rather, defiantly not held together) by a totalizing nihilism that denies any higher or greater meaning to actions beyond the demonstratable consequences of action itself. This made for cinema that, at the time, was incomprehensible to many viewers, and Suzuki was famously fired by Nikkatsu in 1967 for making films that "make no sense and make no money." Decades later, however, the potency of his best films is keenly appreciated by many cinephiles raised on Pulp Fiction and Natural Born Killers (both almost completely derivative of Suzuki's work).

Suzuki himself identified Youth of the Beast as marking the beginning of his most creatively fertile period, and all the distinctive elements of his filmmaking are in evidence, and meshing perfectly. The basic story - a mysterious tough muscles into the center of a war between rival gangs, then begins pursuing ends of his own as he plays each off the other - is strongly reminiscent of Kurosawa's Yojimbo, but where Yojimbo is a period piece set in a down and out town of the Edo period, Youth of the Beast is a (post)modern gangster film set in contemporary (1960s) Tokyo. Mifune's iconic role as the amoral ronin Sanjuro Kuwabatake is here filled by Jo Shishido as disgraced ex-detective Joji 'Jo' Mizuno.

The film opens with police investigating the apparent double suicide of a detective and his mistress (we later learn that it was actually a double murder). The initial sequence plays at being a traditional police procedural, with middle aged men in rumpled suits and worn hats speaking clinically of the dead. The camera pans to a table and an incongruous splash of color, a single cut red flower in a vase. It is an image of fleeting life that is repeated as the film's closing frame.

Suddenly, the film jumps to full color with a blast of hard bop from the soundtrack, cutting to a crowded street in Tokyo and the maniacal laughter of a woman. The camera soon finds 'Jo' Shisado, who explodes into violent action, attacking three men, pummeling one of them to the ground and kicking him repeatedly before fastidiously wiping the blood from his shoe onto the fallen man's shirt. He then turns with an air of total indifference and strolls into a hostess bar.

His outburst provides an entree into the Tokyo underworld; the men he thrashed were low-level yakuza soldiers, and the ease with which he dispatched them attracts the attention of the local underboss. Soon, he meets the big boss, Hideo Nomoto, and becomes a hitman for Nomoto's gang. It rapidly becomes apparent that Jo is playing a deeper game. He forces his way into the office of Nomoto's chief rival, earning a place on his payroll as well, this time by providing intelligence on Nomoto's activities. He plays the rivals off one another, eventually achieving the cataclysmic annihilation of both gangs.

But why? We learn through flashbacks and his own admission that Jo is a former cop,framed by the yakuza and sent to prison for a crime he didn't commit. More significantly, it is revealed that the detective whose murder was investigated in the opening scene was his former partner. He knows that someone in Nomoto's gang is responsible for that murder, and he is bent on discovering the killer and dispatching him..but he's not at all particular about who else he kills in the process. The purity of his vengeance is eventually undermined, however, when he befriends one of Nomoto's henchmen, and, particularly, after he learns who the real hand behind the killing was. In the end, his success brings no satisfaction, only more death.

The great strength of Youth of the Beast is its combination of superb visual flair and unremitting nihilism. Suzuki's shots are almost invariably dynamic in their composition, a riot of color and movement against a gritty background of corruption and decay. They create at once a hallucinatory detachment and a gut level immersion in the violence. Even the relatively static shots are intensely poetic and loaded with symbolism. Several scenes take place in the office of Nomoto's hostess bar. The entire back wall of the office is a one-way mirror, looking out into the nightclub. The floor of the office is set below the floor of the club. It is a perfect visual depiction of an "underworld" existing side by side with everyday life, but invisible to most people.

One aspect of the film will likely be extremely disturbing to many contemporary Western viewers. Suzuki's films were often possessed of a violent and virulent misogyny, and this is no exception. The female characters are invariably unsympathetic; prostitutes, addicts and murdering adulteresses. One scene features a pimp humiliating an addicted woman while she begs for a fix. In another, Nomoto beats a call girl with his belt and then rapes her. The movie reaches its climax when Jo leaves the woman who orchestrated the murder of his partner to the tender mercies of a straight razor wielding psychopath. It is a fitting end to one of the most relentlessly violent films of its era.

Opening on a scene where a double suicide has taken place, the beginning of Youth of the Beast is filmed in black and white, but with the introduction of the violent, raucous Mizuno Joji, Shishido Joe, the film becomes emblazoned with pastel colors! Well, maybe not, but Youth of the Beast is one of Nikkatsu's earliest and Suzuki's first color films. Displaying color usage that would please Thomas Wolfe, Youth of the Beast takes on the stereotype of the yakuza being noble outlaws who fight against the system to preserve traditional Japanese culture. The yakuza in this film resemble more the modern mold: drug dealers, pimps, and extortionists. It is amidst this crowd that Jo tries to establish himself. Beating up random people, harassing waiters, hiring the services of several bargirls, and then saying that he does not have the money to pay, Jo at first is accosted by members of the Nomoto family, but because he is able to impress them with his considerable fighting skills, he is asked to join the gang. With it bespectacled, cat-loving, knife-chunking boss, the Nomoto family makes a chunk of its money by extorting local business owners. Employing such tactics as setting people's heads on fire by using a can of hairspray as a blowtorch, Jo quickly establishes himself as someone not to be messed with and it seems that the Nomoto family has within its ranks a strong guy to further their cause. However, is this man to be trusted?

Behind Nomoto's back, Jo also mingles with the Sanko gang, Nomoto's chief rival. Stating that he is only doing it for the money, Jo gives a number of Nomoto's secrets to the Sanko boss. However, is Jo truly in it solely for the money? Visiting the wife of the detective whose body, along with his lover's, was discovered in the opening scene and avoiding other's at the service, it seems that Jo has something to hide...

With the recent releases of four classic Suzuki films, Gate of Flesh, Story of a Prostitute, and Fighting Elegy being the other three, Suzuki fans have had a number of good films in which they can sink their teeth into. One of four films Suzuki directed in 1963, Youth of the Beast displays a number of elements that would become familiar aspects of his later films, such as the creative use of color and surreal backgrounds. Also, while primarily a serious film, Youth of the Beast has a comic element as well and, of course, Shishodo Joe is awesome!

Seijun Suzuki's films show stylish framing of each scene that brings something unique to the audience each time he calls action. Much of his success might be grounded in the many films he made at the beginning of his career. These films were made quickly and on a rather modest budget, which provided him with several opportunities to fine tune his directorial skills. In Youth of the Best the audience can see cool framing of scenes in a way that Quentin Tarantino did in Pulp Fiction in the 1990s and in a similar way that the contemporary director Takeshi Miike does in his films. This suggests that Seijun was not only before his time, but that his bravery as a director brings out the cinematic brilliance in him.

The film opens in black and white with a large crowd that has gathered in curiosity outside a small hotel. A man is found dead with a dead woman on top of him in one of the hotel's tiny rooms. The police are investigating the scene while one police detective is reading out loud what seems to be a suicide note. Consequently, the police detective voices the obvious nature of the deadly incident that has taken place in the room hours earlier while another police officer comments on how lucky the dead man must have been to have had a loving mistress such as the dead woman on the floor. Further investigation of the room reveals the dead man's line of work, as he used to be a police detective. After this short opening, the film turns into a colored cinematic experience, as it makes a short leap into the future.

Initially, it seems a little confusing where the story is going, as the audience is allowed to follow a thug trying to enter the world of yakuza, the Japanese mafia. Nonetheless, a patient audience will be rewarded, as the story will help reveal the identity of this gangster, Joji "Jo" Mizuno (Joe Shishido). By raising some havoc in the Nomoto Enterprises turf Jo succeeds in getting their attention, as he quickly climbs the ladder of criminal success. He is offered a lucrative position in the Nomoto organization, as he is obliged to perform extortion for the organization in another gang's turf to show his loyalty.

Eventually, the audience is introduced to Jo's true identity, as he has been released from jail and wants to repay a debt he has to the police detective that was found dead in the apparent double suicide at the beginning of the film. The film turns into an intricate cat and mouse game between Jo and the mobsters, as he attempts to find the true killers of the dead police detective. However, it is not as easy as Jo anticipated, as he finds himself in a quandary while encouraging gang war in his approach to find the killer.

Seijun's gangster tale depicts a Japanese film noir with some possible influence by Kurosawa's Yojimbo (1961). Nonetheless, Seijun makes sure that it is not a rip-off of another film, which is evident as the story is told. The criminal and corrupt atmosphere in the film is elevated through scenes from backrooms and soundproofed rooms. Through these rooms the mise-en-scene brings wall-to-wall two-way mirrors, exotic dancers, and film clips on the back of theater screens that should help evoke additional emotional impact of the situations on the audience. This displays Seijun's personal interest in film, but also intentional contemplation by him. Maybe he wanted the audience to actually think more about the moment than just to merely enjoy the ride through the story.

One notion that has been suggested is that the audience should reflect on their own folly while viewing Seijun's films. This notion is increasingly interesting while contemplating Suzuki's heavy use of sadism, violence, and sexual symbolism in the film. In some aspects, this is very similar to what one can see in Ichi the Killer (2001) by Takeshi Miike, but Miike brings the violence to the next level by visually illustrating what Seijun only suggested. In any case, there is something more in each scene than what meets the eye, which leaves much for the audience to ponder.

This is a great film, similar to "Branded to Kill" and "Tokyo Drifter" in many respects. The story is more comprehensible and thus less confusing than the other two, though it still displays Suzuki's characteristic directorial style. The story is very compelling and entertaining, a sort of Suzuki take on Kurosawa's Yojimbo, focusing on two warring yakuza gangs rather than two warring samurai clans. It definitely ranks up there with Suzuki's best films. If you liked either "Branded to Kill" or "Tokyo Drifter," definitely check this one out.

The transfer on this Criterion Collection has been cleaned up significantly and the sound quality is very nice. My only complaint is the lack of special features. Besides a trailer, there is an interview with Suzuki as well as an interview with actor Jo Shishido. However, both of these interviews are very short, especially the Suzuki one. The Jo Shishido interview was interesting just to see what he looks like much older and how plastic surgery has effected his appearance. Despite the lack of notable features, this is still a must have DVD for the film alone. Highly Recommended.

This review is for the Criterion Collection DVD edition of the film

"Youth of the Beast" known in Japan as "Yaju no seishun" is an interesting and well made film about the Yakuza, an organized crime gang in Japan that is known as the Japanese Mafia. In this film, a man becomes a doubledealer between two crime bosses in an attempt to kindle their hatred of each other.

The film also has a very impressive musical score that is reminiscent of the batman TV series of the 1960's

Unfortunately, the DVD has very few special features. in addition to the theatrical trailer, there are interviews with director Seijun Suzuki and lead actor, Jo Shishido.

Fans of Japanese crime films will love this.

Youth of the Beast is a wild, erratic, over stylized pop gangster film that is hard not to like. Director Seijun Suzuki is a mad painter, and the film is his canvas. Scene after scene is filled with glorious colors, odd ball characters, inept dialogue, violent lunacy, cardboard acting, and enough humor for the film to be considered a comedy. All of this really never culminates to anything noteworthy, but the short ride is never boring, and Suzuki always uses the camera as an artistic instrument, instead of a techincal device. As a studio contracted director, Suzuki should be given a lot of credit for creating such oddly appealing films with what he was given.

Before I discovered 'Youth of the Beast' in an email newsletter, I knew nothing about the Japanese gangster films of the '60's. Curious, I've queued up several of these films to watch - and 'Youth of the Beast' was first.

'Youth' is a crime drama, a gangster movie set in Tokyo, and the hero (or anti-hero), Joe, insinuates himself into two rival gangs in order to play one against the other. Aside from a few storyline devices, it seemed to me that the film was heavily influenced by 'Yojimbo', except that Joe has a personal grievance to settle and infiltrates the gangs intent on revenge instead of accidentally (or fatefully) stumbling across the rivalry.

Though the story is coherent, it does strain plausibility at times, but the story in 'Youth' is a distant second compared to its style anyway. In fact, this movie is nearly all style - and I can imagine a young Quentin Tarentino sitting in the theater, just eating it up. From the wildly colorful Tokyo streets to the orchestrated violence of Joe's introductory montage; from the hip, go-go music of the early sixties to the go-go girls in the nightclubs, 'Youth' careens through a fantastical, imaginary land of make believe, a glimpse of personal empowerment through criminal toughness for the generation growing up in the aftermath of the war.

In my opinion, these iconic, style over substance type films were probably socially subversive at the time, especially for young adults. I see little difference between a film like 'Youth of the Beast' and 'Dirty Harry' - both are departures from more traditional genres (the western in America, and the samurai film in Japan), and both are morally nihilistic depictions of valueless worlds whose only meaning is what the main characters impose upon it., (Oddly enough, both also include police officers who are forced to go outside the law to achieve true 'justice'). However, the genres they are part of obviously strike a responsive chord in their audiences, which seems to suggest that films like these were an answer to a genuine feeling that the old order of things was insufficient. As products of their times, I expect this, but I need to remember that these films are the ones that influence today's filmmakers. Though it may sound like it, I'm not condemning these films or those that have followed from them - I just think they can be powerful (and in their own way, perhaps even dangerous).

I didn't find anything in 'Youth of the Beast' so appealing that I'd want to watch it again, but I did find the possibilities of the genre interesting. I'm looking forward to some of the later films by Seijun Suzuki, the director of 'Youth', to see what lengths he stretched the initial ideas of this early example. Like the Italian Westerns of the same time frame, not every movie in the genre is going to be a classic, but I can see how fans can appreciate even middling movies of the type. Those same fans should be more than satisfied with 'Youth of the Beast'.

Criterion once again does an excellent job restoring a film that was probably in shambles when they got it, though the film obviously suffers from age and poor care. Some of the extras include the trailer, and interviews with Joe Shishido and Seijun Suzuki, but no commentaries. The movie is unrated, and includes adult situations and violence.