Tokyo Decadence

For the duration of this review I shall be referring to the film by its original name of Topaz, as seen during the film’s opening credits, and it’s one of considerable importance when placed into the context of the lead character’s situation. Certainly Tokyo Decadence would signify the deterioration of an individual or society based around them, in this case during the excessive exploration of sex, while Topaz simply reflects that little bit of hope that one can cling on to so dearly under the stress of a seemingly inescapable environment in which they don’t feel a sense of belonging toward (see synopsis). It’s because of the sheer amount of attention and strain placed on the central character that Topaz, I feel, bares far more relevance to the overall narrative.Taking its title from author Ryu Murakami’s (perhaps best know in the west as the author of Audition - adapted by Takashi Miike) 1988 short story collection entitled ‘Topaz’, which focuses on the observations of young prostitutes working in the S&M trade, Topaz – of which Murakami also directs – explores a cruel and jaded society, in which a young woman named Ai (Miho Nikaido) hopes to one day escape from her job at a popular S&M establishment and become a social worker. One day she visits a fortune teller, who advises her to purchase a pink diamond and turn it into a ring, so that she may enjoy a happy future. Persuaded by this, Ai is recommended a topaz gem by a jeweller and upon placing the new ring on her finger she indeed wishes for that good life. But good things never seem to come for Ai; she’s still sad over her break-up with her boyfriend, who has since gone on to become a television celeb, while she drifts daily from customer to customer, never quite sure what her next job offer will entail. Along the way she meets people, who, in their own way, teach her about the world around her. But Ai needs to follow her own path in life, no matter where it might lead her. As long as she has that little piece of topaz on her finger, perhaps everything will be alright in the end.Topaz, a.k.a. Tokyo Decadence in the west, might appear to have the allure of a soft-core porn movie, but underneath it’s one of the most poignant and intricate films made on the subject of emotional detachment. Ryu Murakami’s film is a slow-burning deconstruction of one individual working in a thriving sex industry during a time of economic distress. There’s never a sense that Murakami feels the desire to truly exploit his characters for the sake of obvious means, not meant to titillate in a manner of which its posters might suggest. It is all very cynical, of course; you couldn’t accuse Ryu Murakami of being anything less than such, although he’s certainly not devoid of wry humour, as he demonstrates a couple of times throughout his scathing commentary.Ai: “You must be very wealthy?”Saki: “Not necessarily. It’s this country that’s wealthy, but it’s not proud of its riches. It drives its men into masochism out of anxiety. As a result, I earn my money exploiting their anxieties…and I’m proud of that.”Primarily, Topaz focuses on the central disillusionment of a woman lost within a system filled with its own sense of perfect ideals, be that related to the entertainment and education industries or otherwise, which can chew up and spit out its inhabitants as easily as one clicks their own finger. The sad thing is that in the case of Ai she is looked upon almost as being some sort of dredge on society, and yet she has more to offer the world despite insisting that she has no other talent to get by in life, relying on the only thing that she knows will safeguard her an income. But she is a well-spirited human being, studying sign language and teaching young children as a part-time social worker. Although we don’t really get to see this side of her much – only in passing conversation and brief interludes of her studies – these are the times when she’s truly happy and alive. If there’s a moral encompass to all of this, aside from simply telling that we should hang onto hope, it’s in reaching out to help others move forward and live out their lives to the best of their abilities, which in turn will make your own all the better.The film is an intelligent piece of work, which naturally bares the sting of a frustrated mind. Ryu Murakami often writes about characters who seek to find some kind of catharsis from their routine lives, while also addressing unhealthy social obsessions and the lack of individuality amongst the masses. In the past he’s pessimistically explored youth culture, entailing drug abuse (ecstasy manifesting itself again here) and stories of teen prostitution (later tackled in Love & Pop by director Hideaki Anno). Topaz would appear to be an amalgam of several previous forays: the vicious and sad cycle of self abuse; sexual perversion and media consumption – all of which the director depicts with almost utter contempt, making his point all the more known by drawing out scenes to considerable length, in turn seeing Topaz’s sexual content become a numbing entity. There is no glorification here. S&M and self abuse is used in a repetitive fashion, in order to illustrate humiliation, loneliness, depression and a sense of loss in a rapidly growing culture filled with plenty of moral ambiguities. Each point serves to underline the reasons as to why the central character of Ai wishes to escape her mundane life, as we watch worrying depictions of topics which have long been overshadowed by their very tabboo nature in Japan. At the same time, Murakami reaches out and shows us that those who choose to follow a more unsavoury path do so by way of trying to sooth their own pain – a sorry state of affairs which allows for some truly effective moments. In terms of lensing the picture itself, Murakami couldn’t be any more nonchalent if he tried, as his camera unceramoniously lingers on people carrying out their daily duties. Nonetheless it’s strangely mesmerising to watch Ai wander throughout her little world, with a narrative that doesn’t strictly hinge itself on dialogue to tell her tale. Not only is this because of Murakami’s self awareness in not adhering to conventional rule, whereby the camera serves as an ever-voyeuristic eye for the audience in order to help us understand Ai, but also largely thanks to Miho Nikaido’s stunning portrayal of the film’s centrepiece. Moreover, composer Ryuichi Sakamoto’s (the founder of the techno band, Yellow Magic Orchestra and who also scored De Palma's Snake Eyes and Bertolucci's Last Emperor) understated piano score does well to match the emotional tone.And Nikaido might just be the key for most to enjoy Topaz’s lengthy run time. She imbues Ai with a charming sense of hope and innocence, despite her obviously demanding and very adult job. Importantly we feel for her plight and Nikaido lulls us with seemingly little effort on her part. The search for an ex-lover; the attempts at salvation through a little topaz ring she holds so dearly; and the humility of doing the dirty deeds that wealthy gangsters, talkative dullards and drug-addicted crazies pay her for are all beautifully handled by the actress, who ends up eliciting a perfect melancholic sadness and leaves one to wonder if Topaz could ever hope to be as good without her.

It's interesting that most Western reviewers focus on the sexuality and the strange S&M in the film and try to draw conclusions about Japanese culture or the Bubble Economy era Japan this film is set in. Maybe it is in the title. But consider that the original name that filmmaker, Murakami, gave is simply, "Topaz".Having lived and worked in Japan maybe it is easier for me to take all sex-play as just part of adult life in Japan. People simply do strange things behind closed doors and the Japanese have always been very accepting of what happens below the surface so long as outwardly we play our part in upholding the necessary facade of "normalcy, decency," for social reasons. That is indeed truly Japanese, unique from the West and many other cultures. They don't try to cram every part of one's personality into just one form or feel guilty about failing to do that.However, if you simply accept that the film maker depicts sexual exploration as merely the canvas or the background of the story, then you get closer to Murakiami's intent of exploring the human condition. Yes, he is describing the pain of emptiness in modern society. But more than that, he points at vapidness of life when people become disconnected from themselves. Due to what? Fear of loss, of heartache... Essentially those who unconsciously choose one form of pain when attempting to avoid another.While we begin the film by seeing an attractive young woman (early 20's) who seems sadly disconnected and devalues herself, really not enjoying her life, we are left wondering why. (It is possible that some in the audience don't wonder "why" at all but accept that life is vapid because they are in her same boat.) But the filmmaker continues to show us who she is in slow unfolding of her life through her work and the perils she (and others) put themselves through in order to feel more alive. Pain give us a hint that we are still alive. Drugs makes us feel "higher". Everyone in the film are asking the same questions in a search for meaning in a life without struggle (everyone is rich) but there is one person who is truly numb: our protagonist, Ai.Of course we soon discover why. She is heart-broken over an affair with a married man and doesn't want to face the end of that relationship. He was her life. He was her drug. When he left her, he didn't say so clearly so she was left with the limbo of uncertainty. She grasps onto hope and so could not move on.Throughout the entire film we see Ai essentially sleep-walking through her life and meeting all these strange characters who themselves are caricatures of human beings, each playing a role in the outer world and exchanging their roles for another behind closed doors. Notice how Ai actually is reluctant to play any role whatsoever -even as her job required her to (she is incredibly bad at serving the needs of her customers). This is because she is afraid to engage life.I'll stop here and not go too far into deciphering and interpreting anything more for the filmmaker. Suffice to say that to me it is a hopeful ending. I see Ai letting go of her fears. At the end (behind the credits) you'll see Ai one more time. She seems to be on stage telling a story to deaf children. Note that her body language is completely changed. She is effectively transformed.So the one thing I hope all viewers watching this film could do is take all the sexuality and pseudo-violence in stride and simply imagine it to be normal and healthy. Note this important point throughout the film: unlike some mean films in the west where the protagonist may truly be sexually brutalized, here Ai is never injured by the people around her. Even in wild depths of depravity (all consensual and private) there is still a line that no one crosses in this film: people don't injure person. Because there is no need. If foreigners take anything away from this film that is mind-blowing this would be it. In Japan, there is less of a need to hurt or injure others because (however lost they feel) they themselves are not inherently injured people. Certainly not during the Bubble Economy (following four decades of constant economic growth). Not so injured as those who grew up in many in other countries around the world (and not even restrained by their religions). The Japanese are just looking for a human connection and are more naive and free about that search. In many ways the Japanese are still doing the same today, only more restrained after the subsequent three decades of economic stagnation (note that you still don't hear about Japanese living in dire poverty while Americans still die and go bankrupt due to healthcare during its longest period of steady economic growth).Yeah, think about all of that.

The cover and the title of this dvd looks like it might be a japanned Tinto Brass film. Nothing could be further from the truth. The voyeuristic scenes start early on giving scant clues to the underlying story of why this young woman has ended up in a life of prostitution. The 'working girl' scenes focus on the japanese male sexuality, which, as many people know, is very far from 'normal' and tend to follow s&m tastes. The heroine participates in these with an almost bewildered innocence, only failing to fulfil one of her client's desires. The film is well scripted and beautifully filmed with an almost tragic ending which may explain the path our protagonist took.

I`m sure this is one you will have to watch again to fully take it in. It is a weird film but incredibly erotic. The scene with Ai at the window dripping with sweat is one of the hottest things I have seen in non pornographic cinema. It isn`t a sleazy film. It just happens to have graphic scenes in it. Worth buying but like I said you probably won`t get it first time.

The unique collaboration of Ryu Murakami in cinema is a parable of sexual decay in the mind of Japanese, which mirrors the social decay of the 90's Japan. A prostitute is obliged to "service" various clients and is compelled to humiliation in a physical but more importantly, in a psychological way. This film shows no explicit scene, but nevertheless I will not recommend it to sensitive viewers.

Top quality, excellent service.

suberb dealer!!! nice add to my collection!! i will sure buy more japanese movies in the future!!! very satisfied with this DVD!!!