Black Rain Blu-ray delivers great video and decent audio in this enjoyable Blu-ray release
Director Ridley Scott's international crime thriller stars Michael Douglas as Mike Conklin, a
New York detective under investigation for corruption. When yakuza hit man Sato (Yusaku
Matsuda) kills two American mobsters in New York, he's extradited to Osaka to face trial,
with Conklin and Charlie Vincent (Andy Garcia) as his escorts. Mistakenly turning over their
prisoner to yakuza disguised as police, Conklin and Vincent realize, after running down some
blind alleys, that they have no chance of finding Sato in the unfamiliar city and enlist the
services of Japanese desk cop Masahiro "Mas" Masumoto (Ken Takakura). While relaxing
with Mas at a karaoke bar, the cops also get information on the world of the yakuza from
Joyce Kinglsey (Kate Capshaw), a high-class bargirl. As they continue the search for Sato,
the scrupulous, methodical, and civilized style of Japanese police work rubs the
improvisational, rule-breaking Americans the wrong way. But when Vincent is murdered, Mas
and Conklin realize that success will come only through a blending of investigative and
cultural styles. The almost impenetrably sooty, neon-saturated city of Osaka is superbly
photographed by future director Jan de Bont.
For most Americans in the 1980s, Japan was a total mystery. Aside from the general fear that
their auto industry was steamrolling ours, from our perspective, way across the Pacific, the land
of the rising sun was cloaked in a fog of cultural ignorance. And despite the newfound ubiquity of
anime and Japanese videogames—not the best sources for cultural enlightenment, admittedly—
things haven't changed much in the intervening years. My wife and I were at a restaurant today
and we overheard a middle-aged woman talking about her first experience with sushi. "I saw
tuna roll on the menu," she said, "and I thought it was a roll, you know, bread. When it
came, the roll was seaweed." Granted, the town where I live is no cultural epicenter, but
really? I suppose I'm a bit sensitive because I recently spent two years teaching English at a high
school in northern Japan. My ears perk up at the mention of anything Nippon-related, and when I
first read the synopsis for Ridley Scott's Black Rain—for years the film was remotely on
my radar as one of Scott's lesser works—I was worried that it would be a series of gross
misconceptions about Japan wrapped in the conventions of a by-the-numbers buddy cop drama.
I'd say I was about 55% right. As a cop movie, Black Rain is a torrential downpour of
every cinematic cliché imaginable. That said, the film's Japanese setting is certainly unique for the
genre, and though the contrasting of east and west gets heavy handed at times, Black
Rain is fairly objective in its treatment of both cultures.
Michael Douglas thinks that now that he's in Japan he can burn his American cash.
Michael Douglas plays Nick Conklin, a hard-nosed New York City police officer and living checklist
of cop movie chestnuts. Is he a quote/unquote rogue? Check. Does he refuse to play by the
rules? Absolutely. Is he estranged from his wife and kids? You know it. Does he have anger
issues? Hell yes. Is he under investigation by Internal Affairs? You bet. The only way he could be
any more predictable would be if he had a mellow, rational partner to balance him out. But wait,
he does? Yes, Andy Garcia occupies the buddy role as Charlie Vincent, a style-conscious, laid-back
cop with slick shoes and slicker hair.
Nick and Charlie are out for drinks in the meatpacking district when they witness a shocking
yakuza execution. After apprehending the perp, a mid-level gangster named Sato (Yusaku
Matsuda), the two are tasked with extraditing him to Osaka prefecture. When they land in Japan,
Sato's cronies pull a clever con and the gangster escapes into the night. The Osaka police allow
Nick and Charlie to "observe" the manhunt for Sato, but of course the impetuous Americans
can't leave it at that. For the most part, Charlie has an agreeable, "when in Rome" attitude, but
Nick is loud, rude, and xenophobic—well, just plain racist—and wants to do things his own way.
To keep the Americans on a tight leash, local detective Masahiro "Masa" Matsumoto (Ken
Takakura)—a true team player—is assigned to be their translator and guide. Together they snoop
through Osaka's criminal underbelly, exposing a counterfeiting operation, getting leads from a
blond hostess (Kate Capshaw), and acting like tangible stereotypes of Japanese and American
attitudes.
Director Ridley Scott makes it clear in his commentary that he feels the film's overriding theme is
xenophobia—the fear and distrust of foreigners—and it clearly goes both ways. The Japanese
slang term for foreigner—gaijin (literally, outside person)—has some negative
connotations that are absent from the more formal gaikokujin (outside country person).
As
a nation that was closed off from the world for 200 years, Japan has a disproportionately
homogenous population, and outsiders—especially in the countryside— are still viewed with
curiosity and occasional suspicion. And though America claims to be the world's melting pot, we
can also be guilty of seeing the Japanese as "exotic" and "alien." In the film, Michael Douglas'
character is everything a gaijin is presupposed to be—brash, assertive, disrespectful, and
individualistic. Masahiro, on the other hand, is cold and emotionless, bound to traditional
etiquette and the conformity of a groupthink, herd mentality. While these are stereotypes, the
individual vs. group priorities are certainly built into each culture, and though they may be
dialectically opposed, I think we can all agree that each has its merits. "Not better, or worse, just
different" was the mantra my advisor at the Japanese consulate would repeat. As the film
progresses, Nick begins to see the value of "the Japanese way," and Masahiro opens up, showing
himself—once Nick really gets to know him—as warm and loyal.
Black Rain was the term used for the irradiated precipitation that fell after the Hiroshima
and Nagasaki atomic bombings, and the film stretches a bit too far when mob boss Sugai
(Tomisaburo Wakayama) tries to blame America's post-war occupation for impetuous, rule-
breaking gangsters like Sato. "You shoved your values down our throats. We forgot who we were.
You created Sato and thousands like him," Sugai says. Though America undeniably had an effect
on post-war Japan, it seems presumptuous for the film to boil down the myriad influences of
history into a simple causal stew that can explain why yakuza members aren't as traditionally
bound as they were before.
Historical asides aside, Black Rain is a fill-in-the-blanks cop drama that's completely
predictable. Is Nick going to have to avenge his partner? Bingo. Will east and west team-up to
take down the baddies? With extreme prejudice. Still, Ridley Scott infuses the film with his
hallmark sense of architectural style, perfect pacing, and a cool, noir-ish undertone. The
performances all have a fun, off-the-cuff quality, and Michael Douglas in particular plays up his
gaijin gall with red-blooded American swagger. With a sleazy, lion's mane of a haircut, he
mouths his way through Japan, outraging the locals and never taking no for an answer. Andy
Garcia just plain seems like a nice guy, and his Charlie is always the mediator, apologizing and
bowing, his figurative peace pipe perpetually at the ready. It's Ken Takakura, however, who gives
the film its heart. Having appeared in hundreds of Japanese films—as well as Sydney Pollack's
Yakuza—Takakura-san built a reputation for stoic dignity, reputedly never even cracking
a smile in any of his roles. And while "Masa" keeps up that appearance for a while here—he's a
meek and diplomatic officer—he forms a quick bond with Charlie and surprisingly gets to let loose
in a nightclub with some live karaoke. His relationship with Nick gives the end of the film some
weight—these are two men who are basically trapped in their cultural roles—but the exploration
of their differences and similarities is surface level at best.
Don't be fooled by the grungy, fleck-filled Paramount logo at the beginning of the film—Black
Rain sports a nearly immaculate 1080p/MPEG-2 transfer that does justice to the flashing lights
of Osaka's nightlife. For a film that's now 20 years old, Black Rain looks great on Blu-ray.
The opening scenes in New York are appropriately dingy, realistically presenting the now-defunct
meatpacking district with dank grays and smoke rising up from manhole covers in smoggy clouds.
When the film moves to Japan the palette opens up considerably—the nightclub is drenched in bold
blues, yellow and orange tones heat up a yakuza-owned smelting factory, and neon signs of every
color blink furiously, hanging over Osaka's clustered, bustling streets. While this isn't the sharpest
catalog title I've seen, Black Rain never lacks for clarity, and the sheer amount of detail
gives the on-location shots a distinct sense of place. Just look at the clutter of the Osaka police
station—I used to work in a Japanese office and trust me, no American set dresser could ever
reproduce that organized chaos. I really have few complaints. There are some overly dim scenes,
one or two instances of mild contrast wavering, and a few crushed details, but other than that,
Black Rain's transfer is clean, moderately sharp, and a pleasure to watch.
While there's nothing outright problematic about Black Rain's audio, it doesn't exactly
impress either, as the dated source material can't keep pace with more modern mixes. The film
offers a DTS-ES 6.1 surround track as well as a Dolby Digital 5.1 EX mix, and I went with the DTS
because of its higher bit-rate and more open sound. Since the film is arguably driven more by
character than action, Black Rain's audio is largely placed front and center, with dialogue
receiving clear priority. The surround channels play a mostly passive role here—supporting the score
and delivering location-establishing ambience—and there are relatively few discrete effects.
Motorcycles zip, sirens peel out loudly, and cars zoom by, but that's about it. A few of the foley
effects are less-than-convincing—punches in particular are clearly canned—but other sound effects,
like gunshots, are crisp and believable. Dynamically, the track has a decent enough range, but it
seems to lack low-end density. And while Hans Zimmer's eastern-infused score certainly kicks it
with big electronic drum hits and some raucous flute, the music is way too digitized and
immediately dated.
Black Rain: The Script, The Cast (SD, 20:23 total)
Only the front end of this featurette discusses the origins of the script--which was penned by
Craig Bolotin and Warren Lewis—and the rest is devoted to an examination of the principals
actors and their characters, featuring interviews with Ridley Scott, Michael Douglas, Andy Garcia,
Kate Capshaw, costume designer Ellen Mirojnick and producers Sherry Lansing and Stanley R.
Jaffe.
Black Rain: Making the Film (SD, 37:55)
Broken into two, lopsided parts—28 minutes and 9 minutes—this comprehensive documentary
explores the pre-production process, the cinematography by director of photography Jan De Bont,
and the financial and cultural strains incurred by shooting in Japan. The bulk of the feature
definitely concerns the latter, as the production crew ran into numerous obstacles, from the
unyielding Tokyo government to the super-specific permit process and last-minute changes to
agreements that had been made months before shooting was set to commence. From the sound
of things, it seems that the producers of Black Rain had just as much of a culture clash
as Michael Douglas' character. Nearly everyone involved with the film turns up for interviews
here, and as far as "making of" documentaries go, this one's more enlightening than
most.
Black Rain: Post Production (SD, 12:25)
This addendum looks briefly at the editing process, Hans Zimmer's score (and first Scott
collaboration), and the critical reactions to the film. What I found most interesting was that Ridley
Scott's first cut ran in excess of 2 hours and 40 minutes. When he cut it down to under 2 hours,
the producers cried foul—he'd taken out most of the film's texture—and they all agreed that the
film should be "the right length," even if it meant going past the 2 hour mark. It's unfortunate
that portions of the first cut don't exist as deleted scenes here.
Commentary by Director Ridley Scott
Scott revisits the film in this track, recorded a few years ago, and though he initially seems fuzzy
about a few of the details, it all comes back to him rather quickly. Much of the material is
redundant if you've watched the four-part "making of" documentary, but Scott does go into more
detail about the film's xenophobic themes, along with the more-often-than-not frustrating ins
and outs of shooting in Japan. There's rarely a dull moment, and Scott is one director who knows
how to talk about shooting a film, elevating the humdrum details with almost philosophical
insights about filmmaking itself.
Though its Osaka setting is vibrant and alive, and though the film tries to explore Japanese-U.S
relations at a time when they were somewhat strained, in all other respects Black Rain is
nearly indistinguishable from the glut of other 1980s cop dramas. Still, fans of the genre will find a
lot to love, and this Blu-ray release is well-equipped with excellent video quality for a catalog release,
a fairly good sound set-up, and plenty of extras. While it may not warrant a purchase for anyone
besides Japanophiles, cop-o-holics, or Michael Douglas fans, Black Rain is certainly worth a
rental.
