BROKEN RAGE: Takeshi Kitano Can Still Make ‘Em Laugh

Here’s an ice-cold take: movies nowadays are too damn long. Obviously, this is all relative; Roger Ebert has been famously quoted with saying “no good movie is too long and no bad movie is short enough,” and while that is essentially true, it can still be disheartening to keep up with the onslaught of new releases, particularly when they frequently stretch beyond the two-hour mark. Consider, for instance, the ten 2024 films nominated for Best Picture at this year’s Oscars: the mean runtime for all of them is 149 minutes, and that doesn’t even take into consideration the fact that Wicked is really only half a movie. (A second part, Wicked: For Good, is due out this fall, and there’s no chance in hell that thing will run shorter than 150 minutes.)

But runtime inflation is really only half the battle. The other? An overabundance of readily available media services. From truncated theatrical release windows to at-home digital on-demand rentals to countless streaming services, it’s increasingly difficult if not nigh impossible for most new films to make an impression. The ones that poke through are celebrated like fads, while the rest drown in a sea of Content.

Lack of proper marketing can also hamper a new release’s visibility, and in that regard, one could not be reasonably blamed for being unaware that master filmmaker “Beat” Takeshi Kitano has a new film out, and that said film quietly dropped onto Amazon Prime without much in the way of fanfare. Following his last project, Kubi, a feudal-set epic that is still currently without U.S. distribution, Kitano makes something of a return to form with Broken Rage, his twentieth feature film in a career that spans four decades. Those with a passing familiarity to Kitano’s prior work will see plenty of resemblances in his latest film, which initially feels like the writer/director/editor/star is merely playing his greatest hits catalogue, crafting yet another tale about a stone-faced enforcer with a violent streak.

But just when it seems like Broken Rage will be nothing more than a regurgitation of what he’s most renowned for, Kitano suddenly twists the experience into outright farce, playfully skewering his established tough guy persona to deliver an uproarious exercise in self-reflexivity. As far as pure entertainment goes, Broken Rage will be tough to be topped this year, having been jam-packed with enough gags to make Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker proud. Best of all? The film runs at a beautifully scant 66 minutes, allowing Beat to bow out just after the hour mark. Even if one were to completely dislike Broken Rage – and I’d find that to be inexplicable – it still wouldn’t eat up much of your time.

PART ONE: THE KILLER

Kitano stars as Mouse, a contract killer who provides his services for an unseen employer. Mouse fits the mold of many cinematic hitmen before him: a quiet, unassuming loner with a rock-solid reputation and a fastidious lifestyle. His targets are all standard fodder, whether it be gunning down a petulant gang-banger gunned down in a nightclub or knifing a veteran yakuza in a bathhouse.

One day, Mouse is apprehended by a pair of police officers (played by Tadanobu Asano and Nao Ōmori, forming an impromptu Ichi the Killer reunion), who can connect Mouse to his deeds but ultimately offer him a reprieve: get under the good graces of a local crime boss, join his syndicate, and coordinate a sting operation with law enforcement to bring him to justice. Rather than face jail time, Mouse begrudgingly accepts the task, successfully infiltrating the operation run by Kaneshiro (Shido Nakamura II) and Tomita (Hakuryu), impressing the duo with his formidable set of skills.

Everything in this section of Broken Rage is played completely straight. As with Kubi, Kitano proves he still has a penchant for the killing business, whether it be laying down a vicious beating or outdrawing a group of younger, more spirited underlings to drop a would-be assassin dead in his tracks. The first half of Broken Rage finds Kitano bringing nothing new to the table, but it’s still a largely good time in his capable hands.

PART TWO: THE CLOWN

The second half of Broken Rage is where all the magic happens. First and foremost: the main issue for a film with a runtime this short is that it can inhibit serious discussion, especially in regards to keeping its secrets safe. Should one be reading this and not want to venture further into spoiler territory, click off this page right now, go watch Broken Rage, and have yourself a ball. Feel free to thank me later in the comments below.

Alright, onto the more spoilery reveal: Part two of Broken Rage rewinds the clock back to the beginning of part one, except everything is now pitched in a heightened and broadly comedic context. Slapstick violence, goofy sound effects, deliberate continuity gaffs, anything and everything is fair game for Kitano, who transforms Mouse from slick assassin into pratfalling nincompoop.

What was once accomplished coolly and calmly before rapidly devolves into hilarious comedies of error, such as igniting his apartment into a blazing inferno in a haphazard attempt to destroy evidence, or a gut-bustlingly hysterical police interrogation that is guaranteed to leave you gasping for oxygen. Kitano’s screen presence may arguably be most famous as a paragon of stoicism, but he also has firm roots in comedy, and Broken Rage demonstrates his keen knack for being able to deliver the funnies. Besides, where else will you find a tense stand-off between a room full of armed goons that suddenly turns into a riotous game of musical chairs? Not in Captain America: Brave New World, that’s for sure.

Rampant silliness is the name of the game, bolstered by a healthy underpinning of self-criticism. For all its similarities with prior films like Hana-bi, and the Outrage trilogy, Broken Rage actually has more shared DNA with Takeshis’ and Glory to the Filmmaker!, two-thirds of Kitano’s mid-aughts foray into a surreal, loosely autobiographical trilogy that resolved to offer some insight on Beat Takeshi as he struggled to find his place in the world. Twenty years later, Broken Rage feel like the logical extension, once again finding the filmmaker examining his life and adding a helping of introspection amidst all the irreverence.

CONCLUSION

Even as a septuagenarian, Broken Rage is physical proof that Beat Takeshi, both the filmmaker and the performer, cannot miss. An argument can definitely be made for Broken Rage as one of his slighter efforts, but that does not discount how much of a barrel of laughs it truly is. Plus, how can you top that 66-minute runtime? The answer: you can’t.

Broken Rage is now available to stream on Amazon Prime.