If you're a fan of SMAP's TV shows, then you're probably familiar with Kattori Shingo's unique humor. He leaps in front of little kids with a huge smile squeaking "NIN NIN" and quickly shifts his eyes to the side realizing that his pants are down. He is certainly one of the most talented comedians of his generation and will no doubt continue to give quality performances in the future.
He does not disappoint in NIN-NIN, a film based on an old anime broadcast on Japanese television 30 years ago. Shingo is perfect for the role and got me genuinely laughing during several scenes, but I had the feeling that he was holding back a little. On TV, he is ultra silly, like a kid bouncing off the walls, but I'm guessing that strict direction, tight schedules, and an unimaginative script from Toei Pictures must have wilted his normally vibrant silliness. Nonetheless, with Shingo in your cast, you're guaranteed a bellyful of laughs. When the legendary red-cheeked ninja is introduced, the kid in you is full of excitement that will carry you at least half-way through the movie.
The second half of NIN-NIN turns mediocre like a fading cherry blossom with no stamina, and towards the end it gets pretty stupid. I'm attributing this wilting second half to a production team with no stamina, but I could be wrong.
There's also a lot of unnecessary and misplaced additions to NIN-NIN. While there are pleasant hazily filtered daylight shots featuring the beautiful Rena Tanaka and obligatory hazily-echoed flash back scenes with the cardboard-stiff spectacled-kid squawking "thank you NIN-NIN", they could easily be saved for a more serious drama. This is Shingo's NIN-NIN, after all, and we pay to see goofy, silly comedy, not teary-eyed shampoo commercials.
Finally, the villain is terrible. At first we might think that the mysterious black ninja is some kind of Neon-Tokyo punk, but he turns out to be some pudgy 50 year old enka singer in a cheap plastic trench coat. He's the type of guy you'd find in a Japanese bar drinking sake with his salary man buddies laughing really loud about stupid stuff. His little speech at the end is like a contrived oratory to the Japanese Diet, and Shingo must have been like, "Hey, man, this is a silly ninja comedy for crying out loud, not an ovation to Japanese film or its board of directors. Jeez, someone skip to the credits quick!"
Okay, enough enka bashing for now. NIN-NIN is a decent movie, but such a nicely set-up concept deserves a production team that is more together and dedicated. While it has the potential to be molten-rock silly, it instead wanders into irrelevant territory and finally fizzles like the post-bubble Japanese economy. If you want to see a comic book remake done well, search for Cutey Honey (2004), which is full on comic book pulp-style, with all the costumes, special effects, and cult-inspired quick-cut editing that NIN-NIN fails to deliver.
JY
He does not disappoint in NIN-NIN, a film based on an old anime broadcast on Japanese television 30 years ago. Shingo is perfect for the role and got me genuinely laughing during several scenes, but I had the feeling that he was holding back a little. On TV, he is ultra silly, like a kid bouncing off the walls, but I'm guessing that strict direction, tight schedules, and an unimaginative script from Toei Pictures must have wilted his normally vibrant silliness. Nonetheless, with Shingo in your cast, you're guaranteed a bellyful of laughs. When the legendary red-cheeked ninja is introduced, the kid in you is full of excitement that will carry you at least half-way through the movie.
The second half of NIN-NIN turns mediocre like a fading cherry blossom with no stamina, and towards the end it gets pretty stupid. I'm attributing this wilting second half to a production team with no stamina, but I could be wrong.
There's also a lot of unnecessary and misplaced additions to NIN-NIN. While there are pleasant hazily filtered daylight shots featuring the beautiful Rena Tanaka and obligatory hazily-echoed flash back scenes with the cardboard-stiff spectacled-kid squawking "thank you NIN-NIN", they could easily be saved for a more serious drama. This is Shingo's NIN-NIN, after all, and we pay to see goofy, silly comedy, not teary-eyed shampoo commercials.
Finally, the villain is terrible. At first we might think that the mysterious black ninja is some kind of Neon-Tokyo punk, but he turns out to be some pudgy 50 year old enka singer in a cheap plastic trench coat. He's the type of guy you'd find in a Japanese bar drinking sake with his salary man buddies laughing really loud about stupid stuff. His little speech at the end is like a contrived oratory to the Japanese Diet, and Shingo must have been like, "Hey, man, this is a silly ninja comedy for crying out loud, not an ovation to Japanese film or its board of directors. Jeez, someone skip to the credits quick!"
Okay, enough enka bashing for now. NIN-NIN is a decent movie, but such a nicely set-up concept deserves a production team that is more together and dedicated. While it has the potential to be molten-rock silly, it instead wanders into irrelevant territory and finally fizzles like the post-bubble Japanese economy. If you want to see a comic book remake done well, search for Cutey Honey (2004), which is full on comic book pulp-style, with all the costumes, special effects, and cult-inspired quick-cut editing that NIN-NIN fails to deliver.
JY