Released from prison, a gangster (Michitaro Mizushima) retrieves diamonds sought by fellow yakuza.
Director Seijun Suzuki was a trailblazer for Japanese cinema. He infused his films with peculiar style and cheeky humor, which ultimately led to his ouster from the film studio Nikkatsu, where he made around forty features. Suzuki sued the studio, and in return, he was blacklisted for over ten years. His depiction of Yakuza gangsters was unmatched, particularly with outings like “Branded to Kill” and “Tokyo Drifter.” Initially, he remained unknown to international audiences, but he gained some popularity thanks to a mix of retrospectives as well as filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch, Quentin Tarantino, and Takeshi Kitano championing his extensive body of work. Now, with a remastered version by Radiance Films of his little-known “Underworld Beauty,” Suzuki’s films should hopefully continue to draw more attention.
Shot in glorious CinemaScope, the opening of “Underworld Beauty” brought to mind Carol Reed’s “The Third Man” with its moody shadows cast on a man traversing a sewer. The man is Miyamoto (Michitarô Mizushima), fresh out of the slammer after serving three years for taking part in a jewelry heist. Upon recovering a gun and three large diamonds from a brick wall, Miyamoto enters a swanky nightclub where patrons are swing dancing with a devil-may-care recklessness. He is there to meet his boss, Chairman Oyane, a ruthless Yakuza leader who will help him sell the diamonds to an American buyer. Miyamoto plans to give the money from the transaction to his friend Mihara, who was disabled while the pair carried out the heist three years earlier. As expected in this world of crime, double crosses and greed lead to tragic consequences.
Mizushima is the epitome of a Noir’s leading man. His nonchalant demeanor and cynical sensibility as he coolly smokes cigarettes recalled the genre’s heavyweights notably embodied by Humphrey Bogart or Robert Mitchum. Mizushima is caring but also does not give a damn. Wearing all black with a cool fedora, he is the guy you want to call when you need help.
Mihara’s sister Akiko (Mari Shikari) is a defiant woman and does not conform to the period’s standards by harnessing a more masculine manner of speaking and moving. The performance by Shikari is another standout, to quote Mr. White, “Like a kite dancing in a hurricane.” She is strong-willed, constantly moving around, but is ultimately at the mercy of a patriarchal society. Akiko works as a nude model posing to have her portrait painted by Arita, a mysterious artist who works out of a mannequin factory. Suzuki eerily captures these mannequins whose molded bodies symbolize the limited choices these preordained characters contain.
In this factory and throughout “Underworld Beauty,” Suzuki’s superb sense of blocking and camera angles make this B-film rise above the usual standard set for such pictures. Like Akiko, his camera constantly moves with dollys and jib shots, which isolate or dwarf characters, while ambient movements in the background fill every frame of the sprawling CinemaScope. In one scene, Miyamoto and Akiko meet in an alley to converse, and Suzuki brilliantly places a camera soaring over them on a nearby high-rise. This elevated shot only lasts for several seconds, but this attention to detail showcases why so many esteemed filmmakers and film aficionados revere him.
The sale of the diamonds is interrupted by a few bandits who obfuscate their faces with bandannas, and Mihara ends up dead. Miyamoto’s quest for revenge and recovery of his diamonds coagulates into a MacGuffin device that drives the story hurtling toward a thrilling finale. And it is always a pleasure to see period-specific details in Noir, like the cars, clothes, and architecture, so to see these objects in 1950s Japan is particularly wonderful to behold. As is Suzuki’s commentary on the exploitation of labor, systemic rot, and his subversive approach to gender norms. For those seeking a different perspective or an under-appreciated Noir, look no further.
Available on Special Limited Edition Blu-ray™ January 28th from Radiance Films
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