Tokyo Tribe, 2014.
Directed by Shion Sono
Starring Ryohei Suzuki, Riki Takeuchi and Yosuke Kubozuka.
SYNOPSIS:
Tokyo is split into a number of hip hop obsessed tribes. One of the gangs want to take over the city, but the rest aren’t going down without a fight.
After the four hour exercise in Catholicism and upskirt shots that is Love Exposure, and the farewell to cinema that is Why Don’t You Play in Hell?, Shion Sono loses all the good faith his fans put in him with Tokyo Tribe.
It’s got the same kinetic energy as Shion’s other movies, with some amazing choreographed violence and a beautiful pallet of colours making up this deranged and disgusting future, but the rampant sexism ruins pretty much everything, if the ‘hip hop musical’ vibe doesn’t put you off first.
Shion Sono is a director that’s willing to take risks. Far from chasing commercial success, he goes straight for the cult audiences with his big ideas and eye for production design. In fact, the first few minutes of Tokyo Tribe might be the most impressive, with a number of amazing long shots that throw you head first into this world of warring hip hop gangs. Introducing you to a load of characters, it doesn’t matter if you spend the next two hours without remembering their names, because every one of them has their little quirks, from a desert eagle shaped mobile phone to a penchant for sauna’s or ridiculous bling. Everything about this film should be awesome. Like Escape From New York via The Warriors and West Side Story, it tells a tale of a rival hip hop gangs who come together to defend their turf against one big gang who want to take over Tokyo.
The actual music itself is a bit jarring at first, but you slowly settle into it’s…rhythm. It’s not exactly going to go down in the history books for its show tunes, but it’s an interesting take on a musical – and it’s easy to argue that Tokyo Tribe might not have attracted such an audience if they’d simply played it straight. With the aesthetics of hip hop music videos down to a tee, it’s the treatment of the female characters in the film that will really leave a sour taste in some peoples mouths. Every female character, aside from a memorable beat boxing servant to one of the villains, is there to be ogled, leered at or abused by every single male in the film.
Yes, it’s not that much different from women in your average hip hop video, being splashed with Cristal or having bundles of cash thrown at them, but in Tokyo Tribe it’s particularly mean spirited. If you can get past the first ten minutes – which shows an innocent policewoman being molested and threatened with a knife in front of a crowd of teenagers – without feeling a little bit uncomfortable, then you might enjoy Tokyo Tribe to a certain extent. But these issues really ruin a film that should just be pure fun from start to finish.
From a scene where a gang take to the streets in a tank, to the final action sequence that just gets more ridiculous as it goes on, as well as some admittedly catchy tunes, Tokyo Tribe should be the most fun you have in a cinema all year.
And while, towards the end it tries – and fails – to combat its horrible attitude towards women, it never really recovers from the onslaught of ‘whores, upskirt shots and gratuitous threats of rape’ that litter the film. I really did find this film offensive, if you haven’t figured it out already and considering how much of a fan I am of Shion Sono, it’s a shame that in pushing the boundaries of cinema, he’s arguably crossed a line that there’s no going back from. Some of you might forgive this and think of it as something to be expected with colourful adaptations of Japanese manga. But Tokyo Tribe should have been one of the most entertaining and most talked about cinema experiences of the year, much like Love Exposure and Why Don’t You Play in Hell? before it, and it just turned out to be a sadistic, misogynistic film that might put some people of Shion Sono for life.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Matthew O’Donnell
Originally published November 14, 2014. Updated April 13, 2018.
