Showing posts with label Kamenashi Kazuya. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kamenashi Kazuya. Show all posts

Sunday, August 26, 2018

Kaito Yamaneko (2016)


Tonally defective yet thematically complex, Kaito Yamaneko has this skittish energy that runs counter to the weightiness of its socio-cultural commentary resulting in one bifurcated mess of a series. It lends itself to sharp changes in mood, characterization and storytelling---so unnerving that even a Kamenashi Kazuya apologist would have trouble defending it. Unleashing a cascade of what appears to be utter nonsense amidst its bipolarity, it is consistent in its inconsistencies and yet curiously steadfast in advocating the identification and practice of core values even as it lumbers wearily to its befuddling conclusion.

It's easy to dismiss it as a loonier version of those page to screen adaptations of suspense thrillers that went off kilter (e.g. Bloody Monday and Jiu) but on closer inspection, it's more like the jdorama that has something to say but doesn't know how to say it.... or does it? The show in itself tackles too many social maladies and references historical events pertaining to Japan to be brushed off as whimsy or coincidence. Kaito Yameneko is zany, offensive and culture-specific, which leads this particular reviewer to believe that all the insanity and shaky tirades are intentional and should be taken as no less than satire disguised as pointless, childish entertainment.



Much like GTO and Gokusen, the main character of this series is someone who acts with righteous zeal and whose loud, fervid demeanor belies a capacity for brutality. Made out to be extremely abrasive, the great thief Yamaneko (Kamenashi Kazuya) is not exactly a lovable character---cartoonish to a fault, he wets his pants, sings out of tune, and wears flip flops during winter to air out a chronic case of athlete's foot. But make no mistake, he's out on a mission. As rogue agent turned ferocious ally of justice, he's out to take down a legendary crime boss and leader of the country's shadow government, Yuuki Tenmei. In the process, he exposes corruption and wrongdoing, steals from the rich to give back to the poor, deriding both the offender and victim for lacking in principles and  being empty at their core.

Using the Stray Cat Detective Agency as his cover, Yamaneko tackles each case with the help of a kindly den mother (Otsuka Nene), a talented high school hacker (Hirose Suzu) and a reluctant but gullible magazine reporter (Narimiya Hiroki). Secretly working alongside them is his former handler, turned police detective, Sekimoto (Sasaki Kuronosuke), who obstructs the investigation every time detectives Kirishima (Nanao) and Inui (Ikeuchi Hiroyuki) get too close for comfort. It's all fun and games with ridiculous heist sequences until someone dies, a mysterious woman with a vendetta appears and the villain manifests himself in a spindly life support system helmet. When Yamaneko comes face to face with a ruthless mercenary known as the Chameleon, a modicum of danger and intrigue is introduced to the series only to have the tomfoolery resurface with renewed force.


Kaito Yamaneko is frustrating to watch as it shifts gears from one moment to the next without prior warning. Even when the chips are down and blood is spilled, the show makes room for a light-hearted intermission. Much like how socio-anthropologists and cultural psychologists write about theories on the search for identity in Modern Japan, the show is continuously at odds with itself, unable to determine whether it's supposed to be a slapstick caper or a wannabe political espionage thriller. The action sequences are likewise plagued with this schizophrenic touch, some being decently choreographed fight scenes, while others resembling a mix of the hammy 70s Batman scuffles with a little bit of the Three Stooges' smacks, slaps and kicks.

Replete with annoying shenanigans and cruel impassioned sermons, it can grate on the ear and try one's patience but at the same time one can also tell that it's intended to reach a particular audience. It makes mention of issues particular to Japan and paints a rather dim and sad picture of a society wherein the youth pass on the blame and do not take responsibility for their actions, where parents betray and give up on their children and politicians view their constituents as dumb sheep fit to be manipulated. The antagonist is virtually a phantom that is symbolic of a rigid but obsolete economic and social system that once provided wealth and prosperity but now struggles to cope with changes in the global age. The hero, being representative of a value system of a bygone era, is someone who is of equally questionable relevance and lost in the fray.

Kaito Yamaneko is the type of show that can be deconstructed in a number of ways---it has lofty ideas beneath a barrage of distractions, probably designed to soften its message and make it agreeable to a wide audience. Is it interesting or entertaining enough to pass off as a light, harmless series in the same vein as a Lupin III live action adaptation without need of figuring out the context in which it was made? Sadly, it's not. It's too jarring for a serious viewer and too abstruse for a casual one.  


RATING: 
SHARPLY BIPOLAR
TONE-DEAF SINGING
INTENDED SOLELY FOR JAPANESE AUDIENCE
LOOSE COMMENTARY ON JAPANESE SOCIETY

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Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Second Love (2015)


With nothing else but the relationship of its characters to focus on, Second Love is a throwback to what appears to be a dying genre---the renzoku renai of old. Bucking the trend of breezy, quirky romances and sensational melodramas, the series features two people, brought together by a strong physical attraction, struggling to find common ground to keep an extemporaneous relationship going. But perhaps more important than finding love, it's also about letting go of old dreams and finding the courage to pursue new ones. Hence, more than a nod to its stars' previous works, the title is really more about starting over and following a new path in life.

The show takes a stab at kitchen sink realism by presenting ordinary (but extremely good looking) people stuck in a rut; and said "ordinary" people hooking up. There appears to be a conscious effort to ground the characters by placing them in humble and oppressive environments from the stevedoring dock where the lead does part time work, the hostile school laboratory where his counterpart teaches, down to his dingy apartment where the two fortify their union, bathed by the light of a faulty heater. Such attempts at realism and serious art, however, is dampened by abbreviated character development, not to mention the innate glitz and affectations of its lead actors. Clocking in at seven episodes, the tail end feels a bit rushed, with very little dialogue to communicate the conflict between the characters, but overall, the series seems to have benefited from cutting a lot of corners.


Out of work dancer, Taira Kei (Kamenashi Kazuya) spends his time doing manual labor and is about to give up hope landing his next big break when he catches sight of high school teacher, Nishihara Yui (Fukada Kyoko) against the backdrop of the setting sun. Smitten, he doggedly wooes Yui, whom he considers his savior and his muse. He bares his soul to the older woman and asks her if they could start seeing each other. Moved by Kei's sincerity and equally dissatisfied with the life she's leading, Yui accepts his feelings and decides to spend the night with him.   

They decide to move in together just as quickly as they jumped into bed the night they met. In each other's arms, they find solace, but their relationship is soon put to the test when both professional and personal concerns need to be addressed. Kei gets an unexpected job offer and has to decide whether to take his friend's (Hayami Akari) advice to give up his goal to dance for a foreign company in order to be more financially secure. Meanwhile, Yui has to handle leaving behind an emotionally dependent mother (Asou Yumi) and thwart unwanted attention from a former lover, who happens to be a co-worker (Namase Katsuhisa).  



Second Love doesn't beat around the bush and presents its story in a forthright manner. Two people meet, fall in love and surmount both internal and external issues in order to find their way to each other. It's a generic love story which is in part romanticized because of the instant physical and emotional connection shared by the main characters but it's not a full-on fairytale either. The relationship for instance is anything but chaste; their past, checkered by failure and rejection. The series sets up customary story elements but cleverly side steps a number of dramatic clichés which is a pleasant surprise. 

Writer Ohishi Shizuka generally does a good job in conveying the thoughts of flawed, insecure characters, using voice overs as a means to indicate resolve, acceptance and surrender. In the case of Second Love, it's all about identifying one's limitations and learning to begin again. The injection of realistic components make up for the sheer pageantry of the show's contemporary dance segments, even if it seems to bend over backwards to give its lead actor every chance to perform. Kei and Yui may possess extraordinary skill or potential but at least they're portrayed as ordinary people behaving within the realm of reason. Even the secondary characters and their respective reactions are quite believable. As such, there are no drawn out dramatic scenes, no obsessed parents, scorned ex-lovers or villains in need of psychiatric help---which is pretty rare for a show in this genre. The ending is a bit of a cop out and some love scenes could have been edited out, but the given number of episodes feels just right for this story format.  


RATING: 
GENERIC LOVE STORY
VALIANT EFFORT TO AVOID CLICHÉS
TOO MANY GLAMOUR SHOTS OF KAME

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