Bird People in China
By Chris Hyde
February 1, 2005
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Japanese filmmaker Takashi Miike has spun out so many films since the early 1990s that it's hard to imagine how he keeps it up. Including his straight to video work, he's already directed over 60 films in less than 15 years — a record for production that almost makes Rainer Werner Fassbinder look like Stanley Kubrick. While there are certainly times when this hectic pace shows up in the slightness of some of his projects, the amazing thing is how he mostly manages to maintain a high level of quality across these films even while cranking them out at a rate that seems superhuman.
Best known in North America for his romcom-turned-savage-horror-film Audition and the utterly out of control Ishi the Killer, Miike's works are very often violent and bizarre. His last work to get theatrical distribution here was Gozu, an odd yakuza odyssey that included sidelights like a drooling minotaur, extended lactation scenes, a sexually inexperienced gangster and a Chihuahua mistaken for a killer. (And that's not all!) Fans who have seen these films of Miike's could be forgiven for thinking that the man is little more than a blenderizer of the outré whose main goal is to shock and appall. But that's really selling the filmmaker short, for these strange films are very often also examples of skilled craft; the perfect example is the aforementioned Audition, which plays perfectly as a light romantic piece for most of its first hour before taking its turn to the dark side.
Yet another instance of the director's more introspective nature is his 1998 movie Bird People in China. Though it does possess some Miike standbys — there's the hapless protagonist and the aging yakuza for two — in his body of work this film stands out as much more contemplative and lowkey than much of his output. The story in this one revolves around a young Japanese businessman named Wada (played by Masahiro Motoki), who is thrown into a new job when his older colleague becomes physically unable to travel. The work involves going to a remote village in China to investigate a potentially rich vein of jade, but upon arriving in the country Wada finds himself confronted by yakuza gangster Ujiie (Miike regular Renji Ishibashi) who is looking to collect money that the salaryman's company owes.
Taken off-stride by the news that his company may not have sent him to the wilds of the People's Republic with a complete picture of their operations, Wada is nonetheless forced to continue with his journey into the country's interior. With his unwanted gangster sidekick, they meet up with a man named Shen (actor Mako, who might be recognizable to North Americans for a number of Hollywood film appearances — he was nominated for an Oscar in 1967 for his role in The Sand Pebbles — or his multiple roles in television shows like McHale's Navy, M*A*S*H, Frasier et al) who is to take them to the distant village where they'd like to mine precious stone. The journey proves to be arduous for all involved, and a series of misfortunes leaves them more or less stuck in the middle of nowhere - with little to do but explore the world around them and to think about just what it is that they're doing.
Much of the plot revolves around an old legend that intrigues our mismatched pair of protagonists, one that intimates that once upon a time the inhabitants of this bucolic area flew with wings that they built themselves. Remnants of the tale abound in this countryside, and as the two central figures in the film explore the mystery they discover things about themselves and the world in which they live that they had not considered previously. It isn't as if they're able to leave their former lives completely behind, as Wada remains somewhat reticent and naïve and the violence in Ujiie's nature is never very far from the surface. But at the same time, both characters reveal hidden depths of character that might not be noticeable at first glance — a happenstance that intriguingly applies not just to the audience but perhaps even to the characters themselves.
It's interesting to watch a filmmaker who is generally so associated with an fractured and fast paced urban milieu move his storytelling to the simpler setting into mist-shrouded mountain territory, and Miike pulls off the change of pace with aplomb. Discarding a fair bit of the excess of style that has become his trademark, the director allows this tale to progress at a measured rate that fits the material in ideal fashion. Smaller moments are the norm in this one, and though the director doesn't completely abandon the violent or the offbeat the overall tone is gentle and inquisitive. Miike turns his gaze towards the more spiritual side of his characters, and when the story veers into the fantastic many of the stranger elements are handled with a restraint not seen in most of his other work. Bird People of China shows quite clearly that though his reputation may rest on his cinematic outlandishness, Takashi Miike can act quite capably as a more subtle and nuanced helmsman when he chooses to do so.
Artsmagic's DVD release of what is certainly one of Miike's most interesting outings gives the movie a proper treatment, with a nice 1:85 to 1 anamorphic widescreen transfer and a smart sounding Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround Sound audio track. Also included is a full-length audio commentary by Tom Mes, who appears to have become the house man for these sort of tracks at the company. As with all of his efforts, his comments are full of information on the people and places in the film, and though there is some wandering off into topics that range a bit far from what's on screen, in the main his discourse remains salient and incisive. Next up is a nearly 20 minute interview with director Miike, who is questioned on many aspects of the film and its production, a chat that really makes an excellent inclusion. Filling out the disc are the requisite biographies and filmographies, the original trailer, a gallery of assorted promotional material and a reprint of the lyrics from an old folk song that figures prominently in the plot.
While Bird People in China may ultimately prove a little slow for those who come to the director's body of work from his more gutbucket material, fans who are willing to give the filmmaker a little breathing room will find this one an engaging and rewarding experience. Its importance in Miike's development is unquestioned, as it was with this movie that he established himself as an artist who was capable of taking on bigger projects. And though it is at times very different from his other films, those who have seen other works by the man will recognize many common themes and situations as they unfurl at a rate more suited to the countryside than the city. The whole enterprise is definitive proof that this modern director is capable not only of telling stories that revolve around an urban environment filled with rapidity and blood but can also ply his craft capably with natural rhythm when the situation calls for it. For that reason alone, the film's North American release to DVD stands as a valuable testament to the skill of one of Japan's most fascinating cinematic figures.