From the first moment of the first season, you could feel that Tokyo Vice was something special. Created by award-winning playwright JT Rogers (and starring Ansel Elgort, Ken Watanabe, Rinko Kikuchi, Rachel Keller, and Show Kasamatsu in primary roles, the series began under the tutelage and pilot direction of the great Michael Mann. Mann created a moody and kinetic setting that for 17 more episodes, other filmmakers had to match.
One might say, “Good luck with that,” but I’ll be damned if Rogers and the small group of directors he assembled (Alan Poul, Josef Kubota Wladyka, Hikari, Takeshi Fukunaga, and Eva Sorhaug) weren’t up to the task. Mann is a director’s director, but all those that followed stuck with Mann’s template while also adroitly deepening the personal relationships of all the characters involved.
Early on, it was easy to see Ansel Elgort as the naive crusading journalist Jake Adelstein (whose real life story the series is based on) as the lead. In current times, this may have raised an eyebrow—a white journalist in Japan at the center of the show. And while Jake does remain the linchpin of the series throughout, the Asian characters continued to creep to the fore, until the show became a true ensemble.
Taken from Adelstein’s own book (also called Tokyo Vice), his story is remarkable enough on its own. After leaving Missouri, Adelstein becomes ensconced in the Tokyo way of life. He learns the language perfectly, studies the martial arts, and becomes a fixture in the night life. Despite all of his efforts to integrate with the Japanese way of life, Adelstein remains very much an impetuous and impatient American, which often gets him into trouble at his newspaper, The Meicho, where he takes on the crime beat. Just like Ansel’s character, the real life Adelstein was the first non-Japanese reporter ever hired at the paper.
But Adelstein, despite his obvious talents for chasing down a story and his ensconcement in the culture, often breaks the rules of decorum when dealing with the police and the Yakuza, which not only drives his editor Eimi (a terrific Kikuchi) to distraction, it often leaves him on the precipice of getting fired, or worse yet, killed.
But Jake finds a little luck along the way in forging a relationship with Detective Katagiri (the great Ken Watanabe). The dogged Katagiri and the relentless Adelstein form an uneasy bond in their efforts to infiltrate the Yakuza (the Japanese mafia).
From there we are rolling as Jake meets Samantha (a fellow gaijin—outsider) who is a hostess at a club bent on creating her own spot, even if it means going into business with the Yakuza. Both characters strike up a dangerous friendship with Sato (Show Kasamatsu) which is full of push and pull tension as Sato is a conflicted, but rising member of his own Yakuza faction.
I suppose all of this description could seem like fairly typical culture clash cop story stuff. But the authenticity and drive of the show carry the series to a higher level. Tokyo Vice isn’t a simple cops and robbers story, it takes its milieu and characters very seriously.
As Katagiri gets closer to the truth, he must find ways to protect his family from the Yakuza, putting a strain on their lives. Kikuchi’s Eimi must continually stretch the boundaries of what is acceptable at the relatively conservative Meicho to get to the truth, all while managing a mentally addled brother. Samantha must navigate the creation of her own club while constantly negotiating with the Yakuza to maintain her location’s stability, and Sato goes to great and risky lengths to protect his two gaijin friends (and his brother who wants to follow in his footsteps) while remaining loyal to his Yakuza faction.
In other words, there’s a lot going on here. Many a show might have stuck with the surface level details of the story and created a fine procedural, but Tokyo Vice is just as concerned about character as it is the thrust of its story—the effort to take down a particularly brutal leader named Tozawa (a terrifying Yamudi Tanida), who aims through negotiation, and if necessary, brute force, to bring all the Yakuza families under his wing.
Season one adroitly sets up the slow burn of season two as Sato’s Obayun (Yakuza leader) makes the grave mistake of elevating a loose cannon named Hamaya, who Sato must try to control without running completely afoul of. Interestingly, it is Sato, the reluctant Yakuza who becomes the heart of the show while playing a part surrounded by bigger names.
Kasamatsu is a huge star in Japan, and one can see why. He radiates cool while also being easy to warm to— no mean feat, that. And as the season closes with Sato’s ascension ceremony (beautifully filmed and edited by director Wladyka, cinematographer Daniel Satinoff, and editor Ralph Jean-Pierre) with great attention to detail, you never lose the sense that Sato isn’t necessarily wanting this honor. A part of him longs for a normal life, but at the moment the layers of robes are placed on his shoulders and he takes to the center of the room, on his knees, and accepts his new status to the sound of pounding drums, any hope of that normal life disappears. And wordlessly, all of these emotions play out across Kasamatsu’s remarkably expressive eyes.
Season two closes on a lovely muted note. Adelstein visits Katagiri at his home. The aging detective contemplates retirement after closing out the case of his life—in let’s say using very unique methods. Adelstein suggests his life might calm down. Katagiri takes issue with Jake’s suggestion. He sees Jake for what he is: an adventurer, an adrenaline junkie. He challenges Jake to simply sit with his eyes closed and count to ten while removing all other thoughts from his buzzing brain. Adelstein doesn’t make it to three. He pops up from the back porch and says he needs to “take a leak.” Katagiri smiles. He then thinks of this challenge he presented to Jake and decides to take it on himself, privately, and as the camera transfixes on Watanabe’s marvelous face, he finds he can’t make it to ten either, and then he laughs. Jake may be a gaijin and Katagiri a native, but they are cut from the same cloth.
Fade to black.
MAX hasn’t guaranteed a third season of Tokyo Vice as of yet, but the word is promising. Still, in the modern world of streaming, even great shows with solid followings often don’t make the cut. While I desperately hope that isn’t the case with this riveting modern neo-noir, if it is, no one will be able to argue that the show didn’t stick the landing—legs straight on the mat, and arms perfectly extended.
Reel Reframe 