Dragnet Girl (1933)
Directed by Yasujirô Ozu

Film Review

Yasujirô Ozu's obsession with western culture, specifically American crime films of the late 1920s, early 1930s, is powerfully reflected in Dragnet Girl, the last of three gangster-themed films he made for Shochiku studio.  There is scarcely a single reference to contemporary Japanese culture in the film, and yet western accoutrements abound, from posters of American and European films to the familiar gangster garb of trenchcoats and fedoras.  Throughout, the signage is in English, the mannerisms are more overtly Occidental then Oriental, and the boxing club, jazz club and record shop settings imbue the film with an unmistakable aura of western decadence.

Stylistically, the film is as close to 1930s Hollywood as Ozu ever got, and the influence of such directors as Josef von Sternberg can be felt throughout the film, particularly in the claustrophobic nocturnal sequences in which the expressionistic lighting brings a seductive thrill of its own.  Sternberg's Underworld (1927) is on obvious point of reference, although Ozu doesn't slavishly follow the American model but instead imposes his own mark on his stylish, lovingly composed pastiche.  For a director who is renowned for static camera set ups, Ozu shows a surprising addiction to camera movement in this film, making this one of the most fluid and visual exciting of his silent films.  Here, Ozu uses camera movement to alter the perspective within a scene (inviting the spectator perhaps to alter his or her mental viewpoint), to emphasise order (the regimented uniformity of the typing pool) and chaos (the result of a brawl), and also (most ingeniously) to provide a seamless transition between scenes.

Plotwise, Dragnet Girl is virtually identical to Ozu's first gangster film, Walk Cheerfully (1930).  In both films, the central intrigue is concerned with the redemption of a hardened gangster figure, but Dragnet Girl offers an interesting and quite unexpected twist.  Here it is not, as we might think, the good girl (Kazuko) who turns the hoodlum from a life of crime, but rather the bad girl, his sly, vampish moll (Tokiko).  The tone of the film is also much darker than in Walk Cheerfully, with none of the comic interplay which is evident in that earlier film.  Ozu eschews comedy and focuses much more on character, introducing some intense and moving moments of conflict as Tokiko struggles desperately to redeem her beloved Jyoji (who bears an uncanny resemblance to Alain Delon in his gangster roles of the 1960s and 70s).

Tokiko is by far the most interesting character in the film.  Not only does she drive much of the plot, she is the only character who manages to rise above the familiar Hollywood archetype.  From the moment we first meet her, a seemingly innocent office typist being seduced by her employer, we sense there is more to her than meets the eye.  Sure enough, she turns out to be an underworld babe who frequents gangster haunts as she tags alongside the town's most respected hood.  When she pulls a gun on someone, which she does with alarming regularity, we know she is more than capable of pulling the trigger (and she does).  Just when we think we have pinned Tokiko down she surprises us, as she sets about making a reformed character of the man she loves.  This melodramatic volte-face would be pretty hard to swallow were it not for the fact that Ozu gave the role of this enterprising female to one of Japan's most capable actresses, Kinuyo Tanaka.  Although Tanaka appeared in a number of Ozu's early films, she is far better known for her subsequent work with director Kenji Mizoguchi, most notably Miss Oyu (1951) and The Life of Oharu (1952).  She also became a successful film director in her own right, Japan's second woman filmmaker (after Sakane Tazuko).

Film Synopsis

By day, Tokiko leads a respectable life, working as an office typist for a large corporation.  By night, she drops her pretence of respectability and becomes the mistress of a small time hoodlum, Jyoji.  Hiroshi, a young student, is in awe of Jyoji and is honoured when he is allowed to join his gang.   When she hears of this, his sister Kazuko confronts Jyoji and begs him not to draw Hiroshi into a life of crime.  Jyoji is moved by Kazuko's appeal and begins to take a liking to her.  Realising that she may be about to lose her man to another, more virtuous woman, Tokiko scares Kazuko off at gunpoint and then sets about trying to redeem Jyoji herself.  She urges him to give up his criminal exploits and start a new life with her.  Eventually, Jyoji agrees, but first they must undertake one last crime...