Crazy Thunder Road (1980) Japan’s Mad Max or Generational Clash? (Review)

Released to Blu-ray this week by the Third Window Films label, Crazy Thunder Road is the breakthrough movie of Gakuryu, the artist formerly known as Sogo Ishii. A high-octane and proudly (cyber)punk movie, Crazy Thunder Road was actually the filmmaker’s graduation project. So impressive was it deemed for a student film, that it was bought by Toei Studios and distributed nationwide. It remains a pivotal example of the Japanese indie scene of the early ’80s (the jishua eiga: i.e. self-produced) era of movie-making.

The film explores a Maboroshi biker gang and the conflict that arises in their number when their leader, Ken (Koji Nanjo) decides to end his delinquent ways and settle down for the quiet life with his barmaid girlfriend, Noriko (Michiko Kitahara). It’s a move that affords the reckless Jin (Tatsuo Yamada) to take the reins of the gang, ostensibly to form an alliance with the other biker gangs in the city, including some right-wing, militia-style nutjobs led by Shigeru Izumiya’s imposing and erect Takeshi, who all look and act like they’re still fighting WWII. However, the anarchic new leader soon starts to rub his supposed brothers up the wrong way when he makes it clear that he isn’t about to do their bidding for them, preferring instead to go his own way. As a result, it isn’t long before a city-wide war is declared to take Jin out of the picture.

Right from the off, it is clear that Ishii was deeply influenced by movies from the West such as Walter Hill’s The Warriors and George Miller’s Mad Max, both from the previous year. The world of Crazy Thunder Road is a deeply stylized, industrial dystopia in which the streets belong to its rebellious youth. These characters, arguably like many Japanese youth at that time, clearly take their influences from the West; specifically from 50s America, with their towering quiffs and leather jackets, but Ishii – keen to suggest something a little more post-apocalyptic and in keeping with his cinematic influences – adds little freaky touches to their dress, such as one rider being equipped with a metal lower jaw, whilst another has a circuit board attached to his forehead. Further still, one wears face paint that would not look out of place within one of Hill’s nocturnal New York gangs. Despite these out-there touches, there’s something quite traditional about Crazy Thunder Road; after all, the premise of a wild one hanging up his spurs for the quiet life, making way for an impetuous, recusant maverick, is hardly an unfamiliar one and the narrative beats of expected loyalties and fractious mergers owe a formulaic debt to most gangland movies, including Japan’s rich tradition of Yakuza pictures. But there’s something very interesting within this familiar set-up that speaks directly to Japanese culture and a more enlightened critic than this one may be able to put their finger on it a little better, but alas you’re stuck with me so please bear with.

As I see it, Ishii is, just as the likes of Nicholas Ray with Rebel Without a Cause before him, exploring the generational divide as much as he is creating a punkish nihilistic hinterland of Japanese society. The decision to place the Westernized Jin, a literal young punk, up against Takeshi’s militaristic group of nationalists is a telling one, as it pitches male – and specifically machismo – youth culture of the 1980s against the alpha-male Japanese identity of the WWII era and beyond; of delinquency versus discipline, chaos versus order. These nationalists may appear over the top and indeed some reviews comment on their inclusion as being too jarring and too eccentric (in a film in which a guy has a circuit board on his head? Seriously, that’s where you bail?), but I think such comments miss the cultural line in the sand that Ishii was trying to draw.

This, of course, makes Jin a really interesting and unmistakably punk protagonist, one who meets all forms of institution and order, be it the nationalists themselves or Ken’s newfound domesticity, with derision and contempt. Whilst he’s never wholly likeable (again, pretty punk – who among us could ever truly claim to like a figure such as Johnny Rotten, and why should he care if you did or you didn’t?), Jin nevertheless has his own principles – to be his own master – and his refusal to waver, plus his spirited commitment, makes him a character worth rooting for and he is winningly played by Yamada, a walking middle finger in a leather jacket. Incidentally, whilst the bikers may look like they’re extras from Grease or Happy Days, it is worth pointing out that the punk aesthetic here is definitely that of The Clash and the music fits accordingly too.

Of course, being ostensibly a student movie, Ishii understandably threw everything and the kitchen sink at the screen. Filming on grainy 16mm, the director is keen to showcase his skills with a variety of styles. The camera work is kinetic and often in close quarters, including one dizzying off-kilter spin around the protagonists. This approach helps to really throw the audience into the melee, it is really raucous and anarchic filmmaking. Unpolished yes, but that’s what punk is all about.

Extras on this Blu-ray release include a new master approved by Gakuryu Ishii, plus an interview in which he shares his memories of making the film, whilst an audio commentary from Tom Mes rounds off the set.

CRAZY THUNDER ROAD – MARK’S ARCHIVE