I feel it's sort of a shame for such a movie to have less than at least 100 reviews on its page. So here I go, helping it out with this 22nd review, if I recall it correctly...
First time I read a review on Tokyo Fist on another site, I didn't quite know what to expect from this movie. I was deep down in Cronenberg horror, but this title's plot and atmosphere (as described by a rather insipid reviewer, I guess) simply eluded my intuition. Luckily, I decided to give this a try, and it was one good decision. Tokyo Fist stands at a fine border between black comedy (and also really dry), surrealism, action and plain existential malaise. Tsukamoto's cam angles and effects act perfectly coherently with his intent, from emphasizing the ridiculous monotony and isolation in Tsuda's life to highlighting the irrational ferocity of his old "friend" that almost seems to turn night into day and day into night.
Now, diving a bit into the predictable Fight Club comparison, Tokyo Fist is the severe, restrained, Eastern cousin of Palahniuk's novel's adaptation. There is no noticeable trace of emotion (maybe except anger), pathetism, or nihilist verbosity in the discourse of Tokyo Fist's characters. It's as if their existence and the duty of assuming various roles (and subsequent failures) squeezed their sentimental tendencies out of them and sent them into an abyss. There is no "love trio" in this movie, no matter how tempting it would be to call it that way. Its three main characters remain as insulated as can be, until the very end - a brilliantly open and non-conclusive end to a small, powerful drama of people not able to manage their remorse or lack of meaning without showering themselves in suffering. Beyond the plot, there are some really nice hyperkinetic boxing scenes in this movie, and the generous to parodic flows of blood and bruises might seem chuckle and nausea-inducing at the same time.
I am afraid, though, that what I have said doesn't give this film the aura that it deserves. If you are not necessarily an adrenaline freak yet not an instant puker either, and want to see something done artistically indeed, you ought to give this at least one punch with the eye.
First time I read a review on Tokyo Fist on another site, I didn't quite know what to expect from this movie. I was deep down in Cronenberg horror, but this title's plot and atmosphere (as described by a rather insipid reviewer, I guess) simply eluded my intuition. Luckily, I decided to give this a try, and it was one good decision. Tokyo Fist stands at a fine border between black comedy (and also really dry), surrealism, action and plain existential malaise. Tsukamoto's cam angles and effects act perfectly coherently with his intent, from emphasizing the ridiculous monotony and isolation in Tsuda's life to highlighting the irrational ferocity of his old "friend" that almost seems to turn night into day and day into night.
Now, diving a bit into the predictable Fight Club comparison, Tokyo Fist is the severe, restrained, Eastern cousin of Palahniuk's novel's adaptation. There is no noticeable trace of emotion (maybe except anger), pathetism, or nihilist verbosity in the discourse of Tokyo Fist's characters. It's as if their existence and the duty of assuming various roles (and subsequent failures) squeezed their sentimental tendencies out of them and sent them into an abyss. There is no "love trio" in this movie, no matter how tempting it would be to call it that way. Its three main characters remain as insulated as can be, until the very end - a brilliantly open and non-conclusive end to a small, powerful drama of people not able to manage their remorse or lack of meaning without showering themselves in suffering. Beyond the plot, there are some really nice hyperkinetic boxing scenes in this movie, and the generous to parodic flows of blood and bruises might seem chuckle and nausea-inducing at the same time.
I am afraid, though, that what I have said doesn't give this film the aura that it deserves. If you are not necessarily an adrenaline freak yet not an instant puker either, and want to see something done artistically indeed, you ought to give this at least one punch with the eye.