BUNRAKU (2010)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*

  


BUNRAKU exists in a vague future society poised between the culture of the American Old West and samurai-era Japan.  Unlike many future worlds in the MAD MAX vein, where technology has been wiped out, the opening voiceover explains in quasi-mystical terms that in keeping with cosmic verities the world just finally gave up all firearms and embraced only non-technological weapons: swords, arrows, and a few other martial-arts devices.  And yet the inhabitants of this "East/Westworld" do have access to other types of technology, as when the villain Nicola rigs a card-game by using remote devices to spy upon the cards held by his opponents.

The best way to explain the sociological matrix of BUNRAKU might be to say that it's KILL BILL as written by the Coen Brothers.  The main theme is still vengeance, not of one character but two: the nameless western boxer "Drifter" (Josh Hartnett) and the samurai warrior Yoshi (Gackt), who seek redress of their grievances against Nicola (Ron Perlman).  However, as the two heroes are guided by a helper-ally (bartender Woody Harrelson) in their battles against Nicola's horde of assassins and henchmen, some if not all of the characters frequently spout rather windy bits of philosophy, meant to imitate the soulfulness of samurai films and spaghetti westerns.  In this respect writer-director Guy Moshe is not successful: while Tarantino brought his own weird perspective and sense of humor to the genre-remixings of KILL BILL, Moshe's "deep thoughts" on topics like "the destiny of a warrior" never seem more than pedestrian.

That said, BUNRAKU is still a good action-movie mashup.  While the fight-sequences aren't quite bracing enough to turn Jet Li or Jason Statham green with envy, the choreography is better than average and things are never allowed to get dull-- except maybe when Demi Moore, playing Nicola's pregnant concubine, is on the screen; try as she might, Moore can't do anything with her marginal and forgettable character.  As with many "male bonding" films the unison of Yoshi and the Drifter very nearly takes precedence over their many colorful fights with Nicola's men, though on occasion director Moshe allows certain plot-contrivances to come about simply because it suits his humor, rather than any logic.

Perhaps the film's most amusing genre-commenting moment appears when the bartender attempts to illustrate his concept of the hero's journey to the Drifter by essentially retelling the origin of Marvel Comics' Spider-Man using a pop-up book.  No character who actually resembles Spider-Man ever makes an appearance, of course, but there is a dead ringer for J. Jonah Jameson.  It's hard to hate a film that goes to that level of obscurity to stoke fannish flames.