by Dan Tabor
Arrow Heads
Arrow Video, a subsidiary of Arrow Films, humbly describe themselves as merely a “Distributor of classic, world, cult and horror cinema on DVD & Blu-ray”. But we film geeks know them as the Britain-based bastion of the brutal and bizarre, boasting gorgeous Blu-ray releases with high quality artwork and packaging and bursting with extras (often their own productions). Their collector-friendly releases had traditionally not been available in the U.S, but now Arrow has come across the pond and this column is devoted to discussing their weird and wonderful output.
The Happiness of the Katakuris, which Arrow released on Blu-ray in a packed special edition, definitely hails from one of the best periods from director Takashi Miike’s career. Coming right off of the buzz from Ichi the Killer and Visitor Q, the director decided switch things up when tasked with adapting Kim Jee-woon’s The Quiet Family, turning it from a horror film with comedic elements into a comedy musical. With his previous track record the producers had hoped Miike would attempt to ramp up the violence of the original and possibly go even darker, but the eccentric director instead opted to take a much lighter tone while exploring a genre he had yet to make a film in, the musical.
Katakuris feels like a companion piece to Visitor Q since we are yet again presented with another dysfunctional family who are also tasked with putting aside their differences and failures and banding together to find happiness. This time we have four generations who have followed father Masao Katakuri (Kenji Sawada) after getting laid off from his job selling shoes, to open a Guesthouse, which is essentially a Japanese bed and breakfast, near a garbage dump in a remote area at the base of Mount Fuji. Our cast of characters includes Masao’s father Jinpei (Tetsurō Tamba), Masao’s wife Terue (Keiko Matsuzaka), their delinquent son Masayuki (Shinji Takeda), their divorced daughter Shizue (Naomi Nishida), her child Yurie who narrates the film (Tamaki Miyazaki), and their faithful dog, Pochi.
They chose the remote area because it was rumored to soon be the site of a large highway, but as we join the family it has been some time and there has been no highway and also no guests. As luck would have it, their first guest who shows up one stormy night commits suicide in a very grisly fashion, leaving the family with a very hard choice. Do they report the crime to the police and risk their guesthouse being labeled “cursed” since the first guest committed suicide, or do they bury the body to save Masao’s dream? This decision to dispose of the corpse galvanizes the family as they hope their next guest will survive the night and put them on the proper path to success. The problem is that isn’t exactly the case, and this only brings the family closer together with every corpse they are then tasked with disposing of.
The important thing to note here is the Katakuris don’t actually kill anyone; they just do what they have to do and it just so happens that almost everyone who stays at their guest home dies in a spectacular fashion. This enables the film to add a morosely humorous twist to a very heartfelt story of a group of individuals that all have failed at their lives and have found new purpose in coming together to save the Guesthouse. It’s a strange mix that, thanks to Miike’s vision and skill when dealing with these themes of outcasts and outsiders, delivers one of his most poignant and memorable films in his filmography. I personally think this is because there are less sensational elements, compared to his other films, to detract from the story, which still holds up rather well even with its rough edges.
Arrow has put together a great special edition thanks primarily in part to the director’s participation, which is pretty rare for Japanese releases. Not only is there a director’s commentary that you can listen to either subtitled or dubbed, but there’s also a 40 minute interview with Miike. This recent interview has Miike discussing the Katakuris in depth, looking back on how it fits into his extensive 90+ film filmography. It was great hearing him reminisce about this particular period in his career discussing such topics from casting to the reception of the film, where Miike laments how the film isn’t held in very high regard in Japan and what that says about Japanese film goers.
There is also a visual essay by Tom Mes who authored the excellent tome on Miike Agitator: The Cinema of Takashi Miike. Consider this a crash course on the director that attempts to fill folks in that may not be familiar with Miike and his prolific filmography. Considering all the ground to cover Tom does a great job hitting the major beats in the director’s canon, from his start in Japanese V-Cinema cheapies to his current status helming blockbusters and video game adaptions. Tom is also quick to point out that why we don’t see the kind of bizarre Yakuza films the director became known for is because they really aren’t produced in Japan anymore.
This really feels like a definitive edition for The Happiness of the Katakuris; a decent transfer and hearing Miike discuss the film’s legacy is really all you could really ask for given he’s had 15 years to look back on the film. I think that distance is what really gives him the perspective on the film that transcends this from a simple special edition to something much more, I only wish more directors took these chances to discuss their films and be honest about what worked and didn’t. If you’re a fan of The Happiness of the Katakuris, I really can’t recommend this enough, as this set does a great job at not only presenting the film but also explaining the legacy of one of Miike’s best.
