Confession of Murder (2017) — Yu Irie
Five years after the original and made in another country, how has “Confession of Murder” changed as a film?
Yu Irie is another director rooted in the Japanese Pink Cinema industry, which, although not based on precise data, must make way more money than ordinary cinema. That would explain why so many of the filmmakers in Japan started there, and also why there are so many few women filmmakers in the country. Gender studies apart, director Irie was the one chosen to take on this remake and adapt it to the Japanese audience, although not sure on what basis, since his work varies from films about rappers to coming-of-age virus epidemics. But precisely because of that, it’s possible to identify his themes as being action-oriented and at the same time very interested in the human psychology, which works well with the plot line of “Confession of Murder”.
The story is basically the same as the Korean original. A serial killer, Masato Sonezaki (Tatsuya Fujiwara), takes advantage of the statute of limitation of his crimes to publish a novel and get publicity and money from his undiscovered and coveted identity without the possibility of being prosecuted, unleashing a series of events involving the surviving victims, including the detective in charge of the case, Wataru Makimura (Hideaki Ito), to the murdered loved ones. Still, the Japanese version of “Confession of Murder” presents us with novelty and unexpected turnouts that make it worth watching even if you’ve already seen the original one.
I won’t get into details about the development’s surprise of this version, so not to ruin it, but I think it’s worth talking about some of the differences between the remake and the previous film. When it comes to the plot, apart from the finale, there are some character changes, although minimal, being the foremost contrast the attention attributed to the sideline characters, the surviving victims of the serial murders. In the Korean original, the survivors gather to plan the kidnapping and murder of the serial killer-turned-writer, and this accounts for a more than half of the story line. It investigated the survivors minds much more than the Japanese version does.
Nevertheless, the 2017 remake goes deeper into the serial killer’s mind, making sure to explain it as something that actually can be explained, not a mere strike of fate or mania. In the original film, the serial killer is depicted as a mad and sadistic man hungry for blood and other people’s suffering. His reasoning is not elucidated and with reason, for if we saw a man instead of a monster the whole production, as it was constructed, would be lacking. But in Yu Irie’s adaptation, they investigate what made the killer into a killer in the first place: violence. It’s like that old saying goes “violence only creates more violence” and if one person has suffered huge loss due to a violent tragedy done to him, he will have to live with this “ghost limb”, as described by the character of the surviving doctor, Akihiro Yamagata (Ryo Iwamatsu), who lost his wife to the killings. And the ones who don’t manage to deal with it might easily release this sadness, anger and frustration onto somebody else.
Apart from the individual psych, the film, just like the Korean one, gives the spectator a sounding of the role the media, the law and the police force play in society. What is each one’s job and actual role when it comes to maintaining its control and order? Both films agree there are some major flaws in Law, perceived by the profiteering of the statute of limitation by the serial killer. But, worse than the legal world, is the media that exploits violence and human tragedy for its own greedy interests. In the Japanese version, though, this accusation is softened by the role of the famous, almost to an idol category, journalist, Toshio Sendo (Toru Nakamura), who won fame after being taken as prisoner by terrorists while reporting from Afghanistan — a fact inspired by the recent kidnappings of Japanese journalists by ISIS. It shows that the media is also a victim to itself, just like in the events of terrorists using the Internet to make themselves aware throughout the world for the kidnapping of international journalists. Meanwhile, the police force serves as the true righteous punisher even going through all sorts of adversities. And here the two films once more disagree with each other. While in Jung Byung-gil’s movie the detective is portrayed in a much more humane fashion, punching people he considers bad and even going beyond the legal contours to get his ways, in Yu Irie’s, the detective, although throwing a few punches himself, is ultimately a hero, put on a pedestal for the society to take as an example of justice, courage and brains.
“Confession of Murder” will always be an interesting story, because it tackles some social everlasting taboos in an entertaining and clever way. It doesn’t matter if it’s made in Korea, Japan or in the USA, it will always sell and point fingers as it has well done so far.
