Kinji Fukasaka is considered one of the masters of the yakuza genre, and his 1964 film Wolves, Pigs & Men is a stark, often brutal look at the violence within the yakuza, as well as the bonds of brotherhood that are found there.
The film follows three brothers, Kuroki (Rentarô Mikuni), Jirô (Ken Takakura), and Sabu (Kin'ya Kitaôji) , and charts their escape from their world of poverty into the the violent world of organised crime. Each of them grew up dreaming of escaping their world, of making more of themselves. The eldest of the siblings, Kuroki, is the first of them to escape the slums that they've called home, leaving behind his siblings and ailing mother to join the Iwasaki yakuza gang. A number of years later Jirô follows suit, leaving home and entering a life of petty crime. Jirô ends up working alongside another criminal named Mizuhara (Murota Hideo), and the two of them achieve some success. When Jirô catches the attention of the yakuza bosses, however, his operation is destroyed, and he finds himself in prison for several years.
All of this happens in the films opening sequence, despite being enough for a film itself. Once the film begins in earnest, Jirô returns home from prison, where he learns of his mothers death. This brings him back into contact with his youngest brother, Sabu, who was left alone to care for her in her final years. Wanting to escape his home and start a new life Jirô plans a daring heist, knowing the time and location of an upcoming drugs shipment. He hires his brother Sabu and his friends to help him, an offer that he intends to go back on. However, the drugs belong to the Iwasaki yakuza, where their eldest brother Kuroki has become a leader, and the plan looks set to bring the three brothers on a collision course with disaster.
Despite being recognised as a master of the genre, this particular release from Fukasaka was somewhat overlooked in its original release, thanks in part to its stark and brutal nature being in contrast with the image that Japan was pushing for itself in the build up to their first Olympic games. Despite this, the film has found something of a following over the years, and the new 60th anniversary release makes for a perfect opportunity for fans to rediscover it.
The film presents a stark, often bleak look at the world of Japanese organised crime, and where often a story about three brothers would have them working together within that world Fukasaka makes the bolder choice to have them all walk their separate paths, ones that end up crossing each other and bringing them into conflict instead. It at times feels more like the three lead characters are doomed, that perhaps they're cursed by the world of crime, drawn in against their will into these terrible circumstances. The film is brutal, and even nihilistic at times, and whilst it's an entertain watch it's far from a fun one. It shines a spotlight on the darker side of Japanese life, and human nature, in a way that would become a signature for the director.
The film has been restored from the original Toei prints, and looks great in HD. There are some elements that are weaker than others, such some parts of the film looking perhaps a little too dark, and some of the outdoor scenes lose a bit of quality over the interior shoots; but this is more due to the filming limitations and equipment at the time and isn't far removed from what you'd find from other film of the era.
Alongside the restoration there's a new audio commentary track by Jasper Sharp, an expert on Japanese cinema who goes into the life and careers of the cast and crew, as well as discusses the impact of the film both at the time and over the years. As with other Eureka releases, this kind of commentary track is incredibly interesting and informative, and is a wonderful accompaniment for the film. There are also interviews with screenwriter Satō Jun'ya, and producer Yoshida Toru, both sitting at around 20 minutes each. There's also a short interview with Fukasaku's biographer, Yamane Sadao.
As one of the important films in Fukasaku's career Wolves, Pigs & Men makes for a culturally interesting piece, as well as a damn good movie in its own right. It's a bleak, dark, and often violent affair, one that won't exactly have you coming away from it feeling particularly cheerful, but as a piece of Japanese film history it's not to be missed.
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