Tuesday, October 14, 2008

On Kitano's editing

A revisiting of Takeshi Kitano's Hana-bi made me realize several peculiarities. Kitano's style has been described as sharp, bare, minimalist. His editing might suggest otherwise. A minimalist filmmaker, such as Bresson, would pare his elements down to only the necessary; as such, Bresson prefers precision over expressiveness, singularity (close-ups, medium shots) over multitude (wide shots, cluttered art direction). Though Kitano eliminates most camera movement from his shots, the dictum of his camera is not specifiying or isolating (like Bresson), it is more akin to the camera of Hou Hsiao-Hsien in its all-encompassing capacity.

In this frame of reference, his shots often have a focal point, either a character or an object - usually directly facing the camera - although its distance to the camera might vary. Similarly, in his editing movement, this focal point wavers: it is inchoate, at times solidly present and at times invisible altogether. This can be seen most clearly in Kitano's character, Nishi, who contributes most of the film's violence. As an action hero, his presence is strangely minimal. An early fight scene shows him grabbing a pair of chopsticks, cuts to blood splatterd on the bar top, then cuts to the aftermath of the violence: the chopsticks have landed squarely in the eye of the attacker. Another fight scene shows him confronting two thugs in the parking lot; we first see him looking at the two goons, then we see only the shadow of the punches on the ground before the thug falls into frame, defeated.

In other words, action is often deflected. The editing in the film does not serve to pinpoint, to locate; it serves to diffuse and distract. The nature of Nishi himself seems to mirror this: laconic and emotionless, he is completely imperceptible - his personality and background has to be articulated by the supporting characters. Even though it is a film ostensibly about Nishi, the film seems to dwell considerably on its supporting characters who contribute little to the main narrative: the wheelchair-bound cop who spends his time painting to keep himself from suicide; the child of the Nishi's dead partner; the brassy owner of the scrapyard. Nishi is the inchoate center of the film, at times clearly visible (as during the flashback sequences or the occasional violent scenes where we actually see Nishi pulling punches) and at times completely not there.

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