Hana-bi (1997) | Takeshi Kitano

 Hana-Bi or " Fireworks" is an abundance of emotions. First of all it is a character study wonderfully written and no less wonderfully interpreted by Kitano. Kitano himself plays a suspended cop Nishi, whom fate has played badly. First he had to cope with the death of his five-year-old daughter, then his wife fell ill with terminal leukemia. When one of his colleagues was shot in front of his eyes during an operation and another was paralyzed from the injuries suffered there, his world finally collapsed. In addition, he is in rift with the yakuza because he could no longer pay for his wife's treatment. In order to at least say goodbye to her, he puts everything on hold. 

Hana Bi is a film full of extremes that are not in contradiction to each other, but rather elegantly inspire each other in their apparent disharmony.Suffering and violence are not in the foreground, although death is a constant companion. Protagonist Nishi seems to be surrounded by him, almost like a prey. Little by little everything is taken from him, but he himself is spared. Almost as if the Grim Reaper didn't want to take him to him so he could torture and mock him even more.

The tragic hero haunts apathetically through the events, driven only by despair, sadness, feelings of guilt and a deeply pent-up anger, which does not, however, eruptively discharge. Instead of exploding or perishing, Nishi chooses a completely different path. A selfless one with which he will inevitably seal his own fate, but at least briefly break out of the vicious circle. 

The flow is lyrical and contemplative, like the work of some crazy graphic designer, an esthete of human conditions. The camerawork lets the colors explode. The music compliments the silences (there are very few dialogues) and is charged with an emotion of astonishing intensity. Irresistible comedy scenes, moments of unbearable sadness, flashes of violence... Takeshi Kitano makes a patchwork film, constantly throwing the spectator off guard, preventing him from having any advance on a constantly surprising scenario and on a staging that thwarts all our expectations.

Everything in the film is thus ambivalent, made complex by Kitano's unique outlook on the world. If Nishi / Kitano has fun with death, his relationship with Japanese society is however more frontal. He braves her, takes care of those she rejects decides to no longer be part of it and to reinvent another. 

Kitano's Hana-bi - reveals itself in all its inner and outer beauty and will be remembered as a skilfully told, deeply melancholic and sensitive ballad about guilt & atonement, love & death, forgiveness & letting go.

Read my review of Edvard Munch (1971)