I’ve previously written at length about the joy of discovering new films and filmmakers through Radiance Films — one of which was I, The Executioner (1968), a brutal neo noir which introduced me to Akira Kurasawa’s former apprentice Tai Kato. Radiance are clearly passionate about restoring and celebrating his work, as they have also published Tai Kato, the first extensive writing on the director (by Tom Mes), and are now releasing another one of his films By A Man’s Face You Shall Know Him (1966). This kind of continued curation from Radiance is valuable as it provides an opportunity to satisfy newfound curiosity by digging deeper into an extraordinary director’s filmography.
By A Man’s Face You Shall Know Him explores post-war tensions in a small community in Tokyo as The Nine Heavens Gang (made up of Korean nationals) terrorise local residents and plan to takeover their market and turn it into an entertainment district. Doctor Amamiya (real-life ex Yakuza Noboru Andō) owns the targeted land and, after serving in the War, desires to stay out of the conflict because he has seen enough bloodshed for one lifetime. Things become complicated by the return of his younger brother Shunji (future filmmaker Jūzō Itami), who is disgusted by Amamiya’s position and joins the uprising after falling in love with a local Korean woman Gye Hye-chun (Akemi Mari). He is aided by Choi (Ichiro Nakatani), a member of the Nine Heavens Gang who disapproves of his group’s behaviour and had previously passed as Japanese and served under Amamiya during World War Two. Shunji soon finds himself in grave danger, which finally forces Amamiya into violent action. The film is told seamlessly across three time periods; the war, the post-war conflict described and during the present day, where Amamiya is reunited with Choi once again when he is rushed into Amamiya’s medical practice for emergency surgery.
From the opening credits which state that “the producers of this film made this drama in the belief that someday mankind can live in harmony,” Tai Kato sets out to use the Yakuza genre as a backdrop to tell a story about the pointless cyclical nature of violence and reckon with Japan’s complicated past. The film is significant for being one of the first films to tackle the taboo subject of Japan’s Korean nationals. At this point it is important to point out that the Korean gang members are played by Japanese actors and many of the gang members are portrayed as one-dimensionally evil. You could argue Kato aims to balance this out with the film’s portrayals of Eye Hye-chin and Choi, but as a modern viewer, it ultimately stills feels like an uncomfortable depiction.
Having been engrossed in the narrative, the emotional impact of the movie somewhat snuck on me as I found the inevitability of the stacking body count quietly devastating.
With that said, Kato’s ambitions are to be commended as By A Man’s Face You Shall Know Him does give a voice to some of the intense hardships that Korean’s suffered under Japanese rule and it recognises the consequences born from ruling with oppression. This gives the film a remarkable sense of gravity that weighs heavily on the viewer and instantly distinguishes it from its peers as Kato is constantly reminding the audience of the ongoing human cost of violence committed past and present. In that sense, with the film’s opening statement in mind, Kato’s narrative challenges viewers to come to terms with the atrocities of the past in hope of breaking the cycle. The film accepts that harmony isn’t currently possible, that is evident from Amamiya’s inability to escape violence, but by highlighting the historic cause and effect that makes his pacifist ideals unsustainable – the film is hopeful that Japan can learn from its mistakes.
It speaks to Kato’s skill that By A Man’s Face You Shall Know Him still operates as an incredibly entertaining Yakuza film. The context and the themes are heavy, but the sublime pacing and the efficiency with which it weaves together its different time periods make this an easy watch. I lost myself in the simmering tension, engrossing action and beautiful imagery. Much like with I, The Executioner, Kato’s framing stands out on this beautiful restoration and I was once again in awe of his use of his famous low-angle camera angles and striking extreme close-ups. Having been engrossed in the narrative, the emotional impact of the movie somewhat snuck on me as I found the inevitability of the stacking body count quietly devastating. As the credits rolled, I sat with Kato’s exploration of how violence breeds violence and reflected on how far we still are from anything that resembles harmony.
I can now say I fully share Radiance’s enthusiasm for Tai Kato, he is a singular talent and I would love the opportunity to see more of his work. The film’s extras include an excellent appraisal of By A Man’s Face You Shall Know Him by filmmaker Kenta Fukasaku, who speaks passionately about the film and helps contextualise the influence of Tai Kato on his work. He also leads a Tribute to Sanae Nakahara, which discusses the life and career of his mother, the female lead in the film. There is also a visual essay Tale of Sacrifice by Nathan Stuart that delves into the extraordinary career of the film’s impressive star gangster-turned-actor Noboru Ando.
By A Man’s Face Shall You Know Him is out now on Radiance Films Blu-Ray
