Following the release of Tattooed Life in 1965, director Seijun Suzuki was supposedly given an ultimatum by Nikkatsu, the studio where he'd made more than 30 films (mostly in the yakuza genre): tone down the visual idiosyncrasies and outlandish experimentation, or find a new place to work. Two years and four films later, Suzuki's most infamous work Branded to Kill (1967) resulted in him being fired from the studio and blacklisted from the industry. He wouldn't direct another film for 10 years. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it's this period of his oeuvre that now draws the most attention—and adoration. Where better to start, then, than with the film that first got him in hot water.
Tattooed Life certainly comes out of the gate swinging, its credits displayed as massive, skyscraper-tall white kanji, overlaid on a montage of various criminals firmly committed to the tattoo life, their nether regions covered with thin white fabric and the rest of their skin inked in traditional Japanese art. Backed by a rousing symphony and thumping drums, it's a dramatic and titillating opening, one that recognises the taboo of the tattoo in Japanese society due to its association with yakuza and refuses to shy away from it.
Shortly after, we're introduced to a low-level grunt out to make a name for himself by carrying out a hit on the Totsuka family boss. Having done the dirty deed, we learn his name is Tetsu (Hideki Takahashi) from the tattoo on his arm—handy if he ever forgets it, presumably. It's not long till he's double-crossed by his own boss, however, with his decidedly non-criminal kid brother Kenji (Kotobuki Hananomoto) getting blood on his hands in the process. Suddenly, Kenji's art school aspirations are dashed; as he states, dourly, “I can't make art with hands that have shed blood.”
Stuck between a gang of angry yakuza and the cops, the two brothers flee, finding refuge (and even a possible new family) among a group of working class miners. The mining crew is as tightly-knit as any gang, made up of some real characters, from the doggedly loyal foreman with deeply-held suspicions of anyone white collar to “Bomber Seikoh” a lowly dog, by his own description who specialises in blowing giant hunks of stone blown out the side of the cliff with dynamite. And then there's Tetsu, not your typical gangster, dressed in a tan blazer with a cute matching flat cap, desperately trying to find a way out for his brother as the yakuza close in. It's a little predictable, but it works.
For an 86 minute feature, you'd expect Tattooed Life to be light on its feet, and while there's plenty to enjoy here, the simple tale of yakuza redemption can't help but feel drawn out. What elevates this material above perfunctory is all in Suzuki's direction, made all the more impactful by a beautiful transfer. Suzuki alternates between static tableaus, shot in medium-wides that emphasise the carefully constructed period detailing of the sets, and swooping tracking shots that take in the full scope of the fight scenes. But it's the dramatic lighting in the final act that sticks in the memory; the slowly encroaching red beam that lights up the sky following a heinous murder, or the piercingly bright spot lighting that makes the various players pop out of the darkness like deer caught in passing headlights.
As a treatise on the powerful camaraderie of the working classes and the cleansing waters of honourable action, Tattooed Life is compelling, but it's only in the moments where Suzuki lets loose that it becomes something much more—too much, it seems, for Nikkatsu. One for the real heads, then.
Special Features
- Audio commentary by William Carroll, author of Seijun Suzuki and Postwar Cinema (2024)
- Newly edited archival interview with Seijun Suzuki (2006, 10 mins)
- Newly edited archival interview with art director Takeo Kimura (2006, 12 mins)
- Trailer
- Newly improved English subtitle translation
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Time Tomorrow
- Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Tom Vick and a newly translated archival review of the film
Tattooed Life releases in the UK courtesy of Radiance on September 23rd.
