Introduction

Hideo Nakata is a director that has, ever since his early J-horror successes (Ring (1998), Ring 2 (1999) and Dark Water (2002)) struggled to deliver narratives that have an impact. It is not that he suddenly started to make bad movies, but he is not always able to give the material he is given the edge that would make them stand out. His Sadako (2019) was a decent horror narrative and his Stigmatized Properties (2020) an interesting but failed genre-blending experiment.

This time, he brings Toshio Sako’s manga series Usogui (published from 2006 to 2017 in Weekly Young Jump magazine) to life on the silver screen. Can he give the material his own unique spin or does he, by meekly following the imposed limits of the film’s committee, merely craft a botched product in accordance to what they ordered?

Review

One night, on the top of skyscraper, eat-all-your-lies Baku Madarame (Ryusei Yokohama) challenges Royal leader Soichi Kiruma (Kaito Sakurai) to become the next head of Club Kakerou, an illegal organisation that controls the world of gambling as well the Japanese nation. Yet, while he has foreseen his deceit, the Royal leader outsmarts him.   

The price of losing a bet has, since ancient times, been the same: death. Yet, Soichi Kiruma  decides to let him live, stripped from his membership. Three years later, Baku lives on Mikage island as a fisherman, yet not without exposing local gambling swindlers.

After hearing that the Royal leader is interested in a scientist called Ikki Sadakuni (Shohei Miura) for unknown reasons, he decides to return to Yokohama. By mere chance, he meets Kaji Takaomi (Hayato Sano), a young man with a lot of debt. He decides to help him out and introduce him to the world of gambling at Casino Darkness, owned by Kurama Ranko (Mai Shiraishi). Maybe, Baku can utilize him to infiltrate Club Kakerou.

Usogui a narrative that, despite offering a thrilling and suspenseful opening and finale, is marked by all kinds of problems that plague live-action narratives of manga narratives. It might offer the gambling tension one has come to expect from narratives like Kakegurui (2019), but it does not deliver any kind of thematical depth.

Such thematical lack forces the narrative to rely on exploiting tension, yet as a minimal narrative structure needs to be unfolded, Nakata is unable to do so. As a result, the first 40 minutes of Usogui are quite difficult to get through. While it is important to introduce the essential relational structures (e.g. between Baku and Kaji) and important antagonistic characters (e.g. Ikki Sadakuni), Nakata fails to create any engaging drama simply because the stakes are not yet high enough.

As Usogui is based in a manga, it is not surprising that there are some quite absurd elements within its narrative. While some of these absurd elements are easily integrated into the unfolding of the story, other more absurd revelations in Usogui really test the spectator’s limits of his ability to suspend disbelief. In fact, the throwing of unexpected bombs of misplaced silliness endanger to derail the more suspenseful moments of the narrative. Rest assured, we are not talking about the colourful manga-like appearances of many characters.   

Nakata brings Usogui visually to life with lots of dynamism. Yet, his composition does not merely aim to give the narrative an engaging rhythm. Nakata, in fact, thoughtfully plays with the visual flow to punctuate dramatic moments, to heighten the drama of the signifier or the act.

The suspense and the drama in Usogui is, as can be expected, not simply function of Nakata’s compositional play with fixed and dynamic moments. To enable the suspense to reach the spectator and give certain gestures and signifiers their pleasing dramatic coolness, Nakata heavily relies on musical accompaniment. In this sense, one can argue that the composition is structured in function of the suspenseful music, of the need to be overly dramatic.

Yet, Usogui is, sometimes, marked by an over-reliance on music. Beyond effectively heightening the suspense and supplement the flow of the visuals, some moments are unnecessarily decorated with music (Sound-note 1). Such game-like use of music signals a lack of confidence in the performances as such or the (quite understandable) fear that some parts of the narrative are not-good-enough to engage the spectator.

The performances are effective in giving the enunciation of fierce signifiers and combative facial expressions and gestures their dramatic weight. While some spectators will be put off by this kind of over-acting, it does, at least in these kinds of narratives, help in raising the stakes and give the flow of drama its ability to please and engage the spectator.  

Usogui delivers dramatic thrills of the gambling manga genre, but is unable to offer anything more than that. There is little to no thematical depth, the structure of the narrative is barely able to keep the spectator engaged, and the surges of silliness threaten to derail the narrative. In short, Usogui got 99 problems, but the manga-like appearances of the characters ain’t one.

Notes

Sound-note 1: The use of sounds to add a comical touch to certain events is another kind of decoration that is not only unnecessary but, by its very usage, threatens to endanger the spectator’s sense of tension.