Alright, I missed last week, and this post is… late. I promise this one is good, though.

Every time I write this little column, I have to decide what I should focus on out of the multitude of great material out there. So far, I’ve consistently tended toward choosing books or movies I haven’t heard anyone talk about in a while, and this feels good to me. Frankly, no one really needs to know what I think of what I read and watch, but if I can turn you on to something you haven’t heard of before, I’ve performed a worthwhile service. For that reason, even though I’m about to start reading Watchmen, I don’t plan to review it. Everyone who would care about it knows about it. Now, on to today’s review.

Ghost Dog – The Way of the Samurai is one hell of a thing. In 1999, Jim Jarmusch wrote and directed it, Forest Whitaker took the title role, and the two of them gave us a new way of looking at the mafia hitman archetype in American culture. With deep infusions from the Wu Tang Clan and even an onscreen appearance by RZA, Ghost Dog is a samurai film set what is probably modern New Jersey. When the title character was a young man, a mobster saved his life. Having already taken in some of the ideals of the samurai, the young man begins thinking of the mobster as his master. Eventually, he models his life after the precepts of Hagakure, living in simplicity, perfecting his fighting skills, and serving as a retainer with utmost devotion. He tends a flock of pigeons, confides in a Haitian ice cream vendor who speaks only French (Ghost Dog speaks only English), and sees himself reflected in a stray mastiff in the park. I swear to God, if Forest Whitaker were a dog, he would be this dog. It’s uncanny.

The story picks up speed when Ghost Dog carries out a hit on the guy who’s screwing the Don’s daughter. The daughter sees him, and, because the target was was one of the don’s own men, it’s time for Ghost Dog to become a target himself. Yes, it’s incredibly screwy. That’s the point. When he realizes what is happening, he begins one of the coolest one man wars I’ve seen in American cinema.

Both tragic and hilarious, the story moves with the clash between the revived samurai code and the disintegrating mafia power structure. The dichotomy between them is enhanced by the mob’s absurd line up of characters. They are aging, out of shape, stupid, and hilariously racist. The line “Indians, niggers, same thing” comes up at least once or twice. Watch for the ever present vintage cartoons. The mobsters’ inward and outward desensitization is reflected by a shared but mindless affection for vintage cartoons. At the same time, Ghost Dog is infatuated with his environment and his bushido. The ideological confrontation is, to put it mildly, messy.

Don’t think this one is purely high concept, though. The action scenes are plentiful and very exciting. The music is, as the kids say, bangin’. The cinematography tends to be bleak. Forest scenes, the insides of mansions, and the city skyline all seem a little faded, as if covered with a patina of dust. If you like samurai films, I definitely recommend picking this one up. The high concept contrasts of the new and old, tradition and change, stupidity and principle, are balanced by characters who are sympathetic and humorous.

Oh, and keep and eye out for a little old Chinese man who fends off a mugger with two spinning kicks. He gets less than ten seconds of screen time, but he’s one of my favorite characters. Happy watching.