A gangster (Ryo Ikebe) gets released from prison and has to cope with the recent shifts of power between the gangs, while taking care of a thrill-seeking young woman (Mariko Kaga), who got in bad company while gambling.Director Shinoda was influenced by Charles Baudelaire's poetry collection "Les Fleurs du mal" while making the film, an unusual source of input for a film. Shinoda chose the subject of yakuza as he felt the yakuza world is the only place where a Japanese ceremonial structure is sustained.Recently (the first half of 2016) I have seen several Japanese gangster films thanks to Arrow Video and their release of "Gangster VIP" and various other Nikkatsu treasures. This film, from Criterion, is different. A bit darker, perhaps. But most interestingly, it has a very active role for a young woman, being not just a love interest but actually driving the plot. That strikes me as being uncommon, maybe even rare.

Muraki is a middle aged yakuza fresh out of jail for murder. Played to perfection by Ryô Ikebe, he's quiet, disciplined, smokes his cigarettes with style, sports a smart suit and a Johnny Bravo haircut. When a woman from a past affair (Chisako Hara) desperately pleads for his love, he shows no interest in yielding. If anything, he seems almost embarrassed by her need of affection. His mind is only preoccupied by a sense of duty toward his gang and some casual betting. Enter Saeko (Mariko Kaga), a beautiful, young girl with the face of a doll and big, daring eyes. She has the look of someone who has nothing to lose. A wealthy, spoiled brat, a nihilist bored with life, she kills time by gambling away her money. Muraki is immediately drawn to her. At first, he's flattered by her attention, but he soon discovers he's too decent and safe for her, not quite extreme or dangerous enough. His pride is wounded, yet he becomes addicted to her youthful foolishness and decadence. Doom is around the corner.Everything about this film is superbly elegant: the acting, the art direction and black-and-white photography, the avant-garde music composed by Toru Takemitsu, the man responsible for the soundtrack of any number of Japanese classics, including Teshigahara's 'Woman in the Dunes', Kurosawa's 'Ran' and Imamura's 'Black Rain'. Directed by Masahiro Shinoda, 'Pale Flower' belongs in the pantheon of great films noirs alongside the likes of 'The Big Sleep' and 'The Postman Always Rings Twice'.***** Spoilers ***** Part of what's most interesting about the relationship between Muraki and Saeko is that it is so Platonic. There's no sign of sexual contact between them. Muraki wants her physically, yet fails to have her. It's a kind of impotence that he experiences. In turn, he becomes more of a protective father figure. After all, Muraki's probably over twice her age. (When they made the film, the actor was 47 and the actress 21.) So there's a sexual tension, an Electra complex (like the Oedipus complex, with the male and female roles reversed). But she saves herself for Yoh, a younger, wilder, more exotic yakuza and this drives Muraki crazy. (This reminds me of Nabokov's 'Lolita', published only a few years earlier.) By the end, a despondent Muraki volunteers to take down the boss of a rival gang, knowing well that this will put him back in prison. But he accepts to do it because he hopes it will excite and impress Saeko. He is sacrificing himself for her pleasure. When he thrusts his knife into the body of his victim at the restaurant, he's projecting onto the act of murder the violence of his frustrated desire for her. Fascinated, she watches from a distance. However, we later learn that Yoh has killed her in an act of passion. So it is Yoh who actually penetrates her with a knife (obviously, a phallic symbol). Muraki has been one-upped again. He has come up with a concept that Yoh ultimately takes to the next level. Saeko's relationship with Muraki remains ideal, while with Yoh it is carnal.Similarly, Muraki is tormented by the prospect of Saeko doing drugs with Yoh, partly because he wants to protect her as a father figure, but also because that could involve Yoh penetrating her with a needle (another phallic symbol).

Whereas "Blue Velvet" is about the lengths that people go to for sexual gratification, "Pale Flower" is about that lengths that people go to for a few "kicks," kind of like a Japanese gangster adaptation of Kerouac's "On the Road."Upon attempting to release "Pale Flower," the studio's censor banned the film, and this fact says quite a bit about the temperature of Post-War Japan's pop culture, and the target audience of this film. While the director claims the film is about Japan's uncertain stance in the Cold War, it may be more accurate to say that the film is about Shinoda's Nihilistic stance towards Japan's relationship to the world's superpowers. And while nihilism describes Shinoda, existentialism may better describe Muraki and Saeko. Gambling, animalistic sex, drugs, all in an effort to just feel something, anything, and to get lost in the moments those emotions provide. Some would say that the gambling scenes are too long and do little to advance the plot, but this movie's script is made up mostly of unspoken dialogue and it is during the gambling scenes that the main characters are developed.While I loved 95 percent of this film's moody and atmospheric lighting, at times it's so dark you can't tell what's going on. Still, the shots are well constructed, the actors well directed, and their performances subtle yet effective. Dig the sexual tension that is constantly building between Muraki and Saeko, and how this tension is dealt with. Somehow I felt myself sympathizing with this killer in a very real way, and this says something about Shinoda's and "Pale Flowers" success.

Film devotees have long realized that the "new wave" art cinema of Japan in the 60's was as innovative and profound as the revolutionary American and European product of the era. What is now becoming clear to fans in the West inured to Godzilla and Starman is that the little-seen Japanese genre pictures of the time were in many cases just as startling and artistic. "Pale Flower" is a case in point. It has the breathtaking luminous-white on inky-black lighting, the fragmented framing, and massive potential energy threatening to explode from the edges of the screen that so characterize the contemporaneous films of Seijun Suzuki (of "Branded to Kill" fame). But instead of that director's post-modern excesses, this film takes a somber, meditative tack, not unlike Beat Takeshi's recent "Sonatine", presenting a carefully-wrought, moody character study amid the expected thrills. The musical score, when it surfaces, is suitably avant-garde, and the frame is filled with rich detail and well-defined characters, like the crime boss obsessed with his dental health. A must-see for the adventurous film buff.