Adrenaline Drive (adorenarin Doraibu)

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Pop Tunes

You’re at the front of a car, briskly moving down a street. Loud music plays as the credits appear. It is a familiar shot from film and television. The surroundings can orient the viewer, but more than anything else, the choice of accompanying music determines where the viewer thinks she is headed. Japanese director and screenwriter Shinobu Yaguchi’s latest film Adrenaline Drive (following Down the Drain and My Secret Cache) begins with this image while a pleasant pop tune plays. The camera rushes down the road, to a land we’ve visited before.

It’s a land of violence and heroes in jeopardy, but it’s unfailingly pleasant, much like the song playing over the credits. The characters are a collection of types: shy boy, mousy girl, persistent villain, and clownish thugs. All are engagingly performed however, and the film’s generic story takes some unexpected turns. Satoru Suzuki (Masanobu Ando) is stuck as a driver for his browbeating boss (it is his car we accompany as the film begins). One day while arguing with his boss, he runs their car into the back of a Jaguar which sits at a stop sign. Tough-looking Kuroiwa (Yutaka Matushige) takes Suzuki with him back to a Yakuza den. Because of an amusing accident, the room explodes, bringing mousy nurse Shizuko Sato (Hikari Ishida) to the scene. They leave in an ambulance with Kuroiwa, who awakens and causes an accident. Sato and Suzuki take his money and run, slowing becoming attracted to one another as Kuroiwa recovers, and a band of Yakuza thugs, though now freed from their obligation to the organization, chase after the money.

Lust for money brings all these characters together, including the head nurse from Sato’s hospital (Kazue Tsunogae), who joins with Kuroiwa in the pursuit of the cash. But their pursuits are almost lackadaisical, the titular “adrenaline” seeming ironic. This makes for some unanticipated comedy, some of it so quiet that jokes become apparent only in and as repetition. At the beginning of the film, as Suzuki’s boss berates and slaps him, Suzuki — and the viewer — are not sure who to respond. His boss tells him, “You hate me… you want to quit.” The camera holds them in a two shot, not indicating the scene’s tone. Suzuki’s increasing bewilderment becomes amusing, particularly as his boss stops the interrogation, laughs warmly and then suddenly starts again on the same line of prodding. Those viewers familiar with Yaguchi’s work may recognize the humor here, though everyone will likely feel more comfortable with its offbeat style as the film progresses.

Yaguchi believes he’s working against a trend: a CNN article quotes him as saying, “Each period has its own representative brand of humor… but the type I do really doesn’t have much relationship with what’s in vogue now.” He’s right that the market for Adrenaline Drive probably isn’t large. But the film has particular charms. In fact, the movie reminds me of Wes Anderson’s Rushmore and particularly Bottle Rocket, both well liked by critics but not embraced by large audiences. The latter film follows a group of eccentric, likeable young men aspiring to be robbers. Yaguchi’s film, like Wilson’s, uses its characters’ desire for riches to move the plot, but neither addresses the cause or validity of this desire, and neither condemns its engaging protagonists. Both films offer oddball dialogue, move at a deliberate pace, and present moments of slapstick, though different from most slapstick. At one point in Adrenaline Drive, each member of the pursuing Yakuza gang takes a blow on the head with a shovel from Kuroiwa, and the scene goes on for at least a minute so that each one can be hit in turn. It is a silly, and each guy’s goofy expression before and after being swatted is entertaining. And even as you laugh at each hit, you also grimace at the pain caused, because the characters are endearing and recognizably human.

The actors deserve considerable credit along with Yaguchi for the film’s success. Suzuki’s bewilderment at (nearly) everything is charming because of the gentle, innocent look on Masanobu Ando’s face. But the Yakuza gang, in the scene described above and throughout, nearly steals the film. The interesting collection of actors’ faces which make up the gang is so perfect, you might wonder if the casting director has been paid well enough. So it’s not surprising to find (I didn’t know until reading the press kit) that the 6-man comedy performance group called Jovi Jova performs the roles. Occasionally, each gang member has a unique function, a line or two which differentiates him, but for the most part, they move and act as one. However, the group members do seem at odds with one another when crammed into a car (looking very much like clowns stuffed in a tiny car for a circus performance), chasing after Sato and Suzuki, who have hopped into the back of a truck. A tune comes on the radio and one member identifies it as a favorite “golden oldie” as he turns it up. Another guy complains, but the group is united again as all the car’s occupants begin to sing along. The song’s lyrics are translated in subtitles as, “He gave me a ride,” and may reflect on the film (perhaps the song describes Sato and Suzuki’s situation as they sit in the back of a truck), but the contagious, bubblegum joy of the song is most striking. It unites the band of thugs, links Sato and Suzuki (who smile and watch the countryside move past), and even connects our heroes to the clowns pursuing them, as the film cuts between them. Crosscutting between characters throughout the film indicates their mutual greed, but here the music is a particular bridge. Sato and Suzuki and the Yakuza all hear and enjoy the song.

The moment emphasizes their shared delight in a bit of pop music, something that seems very simple but has great power. The song, while diegetic, also fills the soundtrack, becoming nondiegetic as everyone onscreen sings along, and viewers are invited to share their moment of happiness. This illustrates the way that music can become the soundtrack to your life; it can make you feel as though understanding exists between you and the singer, or between you and those listening along with you. As the characters all respond to the cheerful pop tune, they are (hopeful) stand-ins for the audience, finding temporary escape or enthrallment. And indeed, for most of Adrenaline Drive‘s 90-odd minutes, you’re not aware of time passing or the fact that your shoes do not fit as well as they could.

The film is consistently meticulous, offering small moments such as the one above, and is regularly amusing — and is almost immediately forgettable. Chances are, a few of the jokes will stick with you, but as the hours pass after the screening, you are hard pressed to say anything more specific about the film than that it is “pleasant” or “sweet.” But this isn’t a negative characteristic. There are songs that you’re content to hear on the radio occasionally, but you don’t feel strongly enough them to but your own copies. You may not feel compelled to see Adrenaline Drive again, though the first viewing is fun enough that you’ll likely be humming along by the end.

(All Japanese names reversed according to Western style)