Exciting action sequences as Michael Douglas, a corrupt New York cop, and his partner, nice guy Andy Garcia, capture Sato, a young, ambitious Japanese gangster and are assigned to escort him back to his home city in Osaka Prefecture for prosecution.
The two American cops, only too happy to dump their prisoner, release him to gangsters posing as Japanese cops after doing "the paperwork," which in this case consists of Douglas signing a laundry bill written in Japanese.
The rest of the movie has Douglas and his Japanese partner, Ken Takakura, tracking down and nailing the mob in the expectable mêlée, Garcia having gone the way of all good-natured sidekicks.
The film isn't just another shoot 'em up, although fundamentally its origins are in the Mafia movie, a genre unto itself by now, and a successful one.
The Japanese locations are made good use of. Osaka is known as a city ablaze with lights. It's like living inside a Christmas tree given to excess, except that this tree has pachinko machines and plenty of noodle shops.
And it's not just the settings that matter, but the evolution of Douglas's character from unabashed crookedness to the Royal Road of ethical conduct. The mechanism of this transformation is his Japanese partner, Takakura, famous in Japanese movies for his many roles as a brooding tough guy.
After Garcia's gruesome death, Takakura takes on the job not only of cornering the Mafia but of educating Douglas in Japanese behavior. We've seen that before, of course, in "A Majority of One," "Sayonara," "Teahouse of the August Moon," "The Yakuza," and other exercises that arose out of the contact between the Japanese and American Armed Forces in the years following the way. The educational factor is made explicit in "Rising Sun." When Takakura explains that thievery shames not only the thief but the thief's friends and family, it may sound like an exaggeration, perhaps a deliberate scolding of America's dog-eat-dog mentality, but it's not. Like any other society, Japan has its miscreants, but by and large they simply don't suffer crime rates comparable to ours. I knew a guy in the military who was walking off down the street after patronizing a Japanese sporting house, and one of the hostesses came running after him, waving her hand, and shouting that he'd forgotten his wallet. Let's eat THAT with our sashimi.
There was also a moment when I thought the film might actually "go deep." While examining a crime scene, Takakura spots Douglas snitching a hundred-dollar bill from a pile. He says nothing at the time but later tells Douglas of his profound disappointment at the theft. Douglas explains defiantly that he only boosted it to determine later if it was counterfeit, then he demonstrates that it was in fact fake, jut as he suspected. At first I thought this might be an interesting object lesson. The Japanese have stereotypes of foreigners just as we do. But on reflection I think the incident was included in the script chiefly to burnish the image of Michael Douglas -- American, hero, police officer, movie star. After all, at no point do we ever see or hear evidence that Douglas is as crooked as everyone claims, although the many accusations leave us with little doubt. But I can't imagine the writers ever considered making this point too explicitly. You don't want to insult the proxy of the audience. And the movie avoids few clichés. Near the beginning there is a slam-bang fist fight between Douglas and the chief villain, who clobbers Douglas as if with a hammer. Not that Douglas actually LOSES the fight -- it's not that kind of movie. But afterward, after this brutal, punishing hand-to-hand combat, Douglas isn't bleeding. He's not even out of breath. A brief later shot shows him with a tiny Band-Aid over his eyebrow, the kind you use for a paper cut.
Not a bad movie, though. The performances are all by polished professionals. There are subtle comic moments as well as drama. And another exposure of Americans to an alien life style couldn't hurt. Yet, finally, it could have been much more than what it is, if the writers and producers had had more "thumos." Instead, they went for the commercially successful, dragging in a kind of middle-brow lesson in morality, easily swallowed, not too challenging, soothing even.
The two American cops, only too happy to dump their prisoner, release him to gangsters posing as Japanese cops after doing "the paperwork," which in this case consists of Douglas signing a laundry bill written in Japanese.
The rest of the movie has Douglas and his Japanese partner, Ken Takakura, tracking down and nailing the mob in the expectable mêlée, Garcia having gone the way of all good-natured sidekicks.
The film isn't just another shoot 'em up, although fundamentally its origins are in the Mafia movie, a genre unto itself by now, and a successful one.
The Japanese locations are made good use of. Osaka is known as a city ablaze with lights. It's like living inside a Christmas tree given to excess, except that this tree has pachinko machines and plenty of noodle shops.
And it's not just the settings that matter, but the evolution of Douglas's character from unabashed crookedness to the Royal Road of ethical conduct. The mechanism of this transformation is his Japanese partner, Takakura, famous in Japanese movies for his many roles as a brooding tough guy.
After Garcia's gruesome death, Takakura takes on the job not only of cornering the Mafia but of educating Douglas in Japanese behavior. We've seen that before, of course, in "A Majority of One," "Sayonara," "Teahouse of the August Moon," "The Yakuza," and other exercises that arose out of the contact between the Japanese and American Armed Forces in the years following the way. The educational factor is made explicit in "Rising Sun." When Takakura explains that thievery shames not only the thief but the thief's friends and family, it may sound like an exaggeration, perhaps a deliberate scolding of America's dog-eat-dog mentality, but it's not. Like any other society, Japan has its miscreants, but by and large they simply don't suffer crime rates comparable to ours. I knew a guy in the military who was walking off down the street after patronizing a Japanese sporting house, and one of the hostesses came running after him, waving her hand, and shouting that he'd forgotten his wallet. Let's eat THAT with our sashimi.
There was also a moment when I thought the film might actually "go deep." While examining a crime scene, Takakura spots Douglas snitching a hundred-dollar bill from a pile. He says nothing at the time but later tells Douglas of his profound disappointment at the theft. Douglas explains defiantly that he only boosted it to determine later if it was counterfeit, then he demonstrates that it was in fact fake, jut as he suspected. At first I thought this might be an interesting object lesson. The Japanese have stereotypes of foreigners just as we do. But on reflection I think the incident was included in the script chiefly to burnish the image of Michael Douglas -- American, hero, police officer, movie star. After all, at no point do we ever see or hear evidence that Douglas is as crooked as everyone claims, although the many accusations leave us with little doubt. But I can't imagine the writers ever considered making this point too explicitly. You don't want to insult the proxy of the audience. And the movie avoids few clichés. Near the beginning there is a slam-bang fist fight between Douglas and the chief villain, who clobbers Douglas as if with a hammer. Not that Douglas actually LOSES the fight -- it's not that kind of movie. But afterward, after this brutal, punishing hand-to-hand combat, Douglas isn't bleeding. He's not even out of breath. A brief later shot shows him with a tiny Band-Aid over his eyebrow, the kind you use for a paper cut.
Not a bad movie, though. The performances are all by polished professionals. There are subtle comic moments as well as drama. And another exposure of Americans to an alien life style couldn't hurt. Yet, finally, it could have been much more than what it is, if the writers and producers had had more "thumos." Instead, they went for the commercially successful, dragging in a kind of middle-brow lesson in morality, easily swallowed, not too challenging, soothing even.