An entertaining, heartfelt, and undeniably cool precursor to Seijun Suzuki’s legendary yakuza films…
Seijun Suzuki’s world is one of slick gangsters, desperate women, shootouts in smoky bars, and an atmosphere of effortless cool. Films like Tokyo Drifter and Branded to Kill set the standard for yakuza stories in the 60s and 70s, creating a genre devoted to young men getting caught up in the dark underbellies of a vibrant Japan. Stepping back into the early days of his career, 1958’s The Boy Who Came Back (Fumihazushita haru) reveals a fascinating evolution in the mind of one of Japanese cinema’s greatest rebels. While it lacks the relentless action and bloodshed of its successors, The Boy Who Came Back still packs quite the punch.
When teenager Nobuo Kasahara (Akira Kobayashi) is released from juvenile detention for clobbering another boy, Keiko Midorikawa (Sachiko Hidari) is assigned to his case as an agent for Big Brothers and Sisters. As the two attempt to keep Nobuo from sinking back into his old tendencies and re-joining the local gang, Keiko begins to develop affections that could completely sabotage her assignment. Meanwhile, Nobuo’s former gang members do everything in their power to destroy the life he is rebuilding for himself.
Kobayashi’s acting is full of energy but lacks nuance; he yells and fights and drinks his way from outburst to outburst. However, Hidari balances this extreme with an emotional, distraught, and conflicted performance that carries the film through its quieter moments. As she watches Nobuo struggle against the life he had created for himself, her sense of duty and her love visibly clash in her. Thanks to her, Keiko and the “teen romance” elements of the narrative never reach the level of melodrama, keeping the story engaging. The Boy Who Came Back also features an early appearance by Joe Shishido as Kajita, Nobuo’s downright evil main rival. Fans of Suzuki’s later work will immediately recognize the actor’s famous chipmunk-like cheeks from Branded to Kill (1967) and Youth of the Beast (1963).
On a filmmaking level, The Boy Who Came Back is relatively standard, but with a relentless forward momentum. A few editing tricks, such as some Kurosawa-like wipe transitions, and a driving soundtrack mix up the otherwise conventional filmmaking. What sets Suzuki’s film apart is its narrative’s gutsy approach to topics that had been untouched in contemporary Japanese cinema. Sexual harassment and assault, allegations of gang-rape, and the societal disregard for juvenile delinquents are handled with a deft hand. Suzuki doesn’t shy away from confronting Japan’s dark and pressing social issues, setting the stage Japanese New Wave films to follow.
The 1950s saw a Japan in transition, no longer directly under the thumb of the American occupation, the country was nevertheless in the thrall of intense Westernization. Rock n’ roll captured a youthful audience full of a vivacious and rebellious spirit after a sobering decade of reconstruction. Suzuki’s film is a fascinating glimpse into this era, from Nobuo’s love of seedy rock bars to Keiko’s job with the American-founded Big Brothers and Sisters. This is Suzuki in his youth, before the jazz and gruff hitmen of his work in the 60s. Here, there’s nothing but an eager new voice ready to blow open the doors of Japanese cinema.