Takeshi Kitano's last film didn't go over well with the critics who thought Kikujiro paled in comparison to the beautiful, universally revered Fireworks, or with the devoted followers of the Japanese writer/director, who thought it was a lame attempt at making a Feel Good movie (the good critics and smart viewers saw through the bullshit and recognized Kikujiro as one of the year's best films).

Kitano's latest, Brother, is likely to earn a similar response.  After the disappointment of Kikujiro, critics will see it as a quick return to the violent Yakuza films that made him famous, while Kitano purists will cry "sellout" again, since, for the first time, Kitano sets his picture in the United States and uses, of all the horrible things, a handful of American actors.  It's the same kind of narrow-minded backlash we've come to expect when somebody tries to grow as an artist and isn't satisfied just making the same film over and over again.

Kitano, who edited the film in addition to writing and directing, casts himself in a familiar role - a stone-faced, hard-boiled Japanese gangster named Yamamoto.  As Brother opens, most of his clan has been wiped out in a brutal drug war.  Looking to make a fresh start, Yamamota heads to California, where his younger half-brother Ken (Claude Maki) runs a struggling two-bit drug operation.

Though he can't speak much English, Yamamota (or "Aniki," as Ken and his crew call him - it's Japanese for "brother") begins to transform his little brother's operation from a tiny enterprise into one of Los Angeles' major players in the drug racket.  Through a series of colorful standoffs, Yamamota punches, kicks and shoots his way through L.A.'s underbelly, eliminating virtually all of the pansy American competition and teaching Ken the proper (and cooler) way to seek revenge for his fallen homiez.  Only the Mafia stand in Yamamota's way of completely dominating the business.

Brother is more than a shoot-'em-up flick - there's also a sweet relationship between Yamamota and one of Ken's cohorts, Denny (Omar Epps, Dracula 2000).  The differences in Japanese and American culture cause these two characters to butt heads early in the film (their first meeting is classic Kitano), but they eventually grow to respect and admire each other as they spend more time together.  Denny teaches him how to play basketball and football, and he teaches Denny how to cheat at gambling, smoke like a proper gangster, and wear designer suits and sunglasses.

The film has a bit of a cheesy ending, and some of the scenes between Denny and Yamamota are a little too cute (like flying paper airplanes off the roof), but Kitano keeps things moving with an effective blend of style, comedy, violence and, thankfully, no time-consuming love story.  I'm not sure if it was the theatre that screened Brother at the Toronto International Film Festival, but the sound was amazing.  Every punch and kick sounded like giant bass drum, and gunfire sounded like a tank.  The cool cocktail jazz comes courtesy of Jô Hisaishi, who has scored the last few Kitano films.

Nobody but Kitano could pull off a role like this.  He's one of the masters of calm, expressionless cinematic fury that works on both dramatic and comedic levels.  Even though he doesn't have much dialogue, Kitano can say more with a look than most action stars can manage in their entire lives. Brother works where films like Romeo Must Die and Rush Hour struggled to successfully blend different cultures into a cinematic melting pot.  It's more like Ghost Dog, which also featured an assassin with few lines, as well as efficiently combining different aspects of Asian, black and Mafia life.

1:47 –

for graphic violence and adult language