Now Playing in Japan: Shin Kamen Rider

It’s finally here! My most anticipated film of the year has been Shin Kamen Rider. It serves as the convergence point of many different areas of Japanese “geek media.” Firstly, it is a new film in the 50-year-old Kamen Rider franchise dating back to the original 1971 TV show. Secondly, it is the final film in director Hideaki Anno’s line of “shin” branded classic tokusatsu revivals. This started back in 2013 with Shin Godzilla and continued with last year’s Shin Ultraman. However, Anno did not direct Shin Ultraman (although he did write, edit and was a cinematographer on the project). So finally, Shin Kamen Rider serves as Anno’s direct follow-up to the culmination of his pop culture phenomenon, Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The three “Shin” films represent revivals of the classic kaiju monster media that Anno grew up with in his childhood and remained loyal to into his adult life. In fact, this isn’t technically his first interaction with these franchises. Before he became an animator, Anno made his fan film using the Ultraman character titled Return of the Ultraman. These old kid series clearly left a big impression on Anno, and that impression can be seen throughout all of his early work in anime like Evangelion or Gunbusters. Not just in their overall premises, but also the granular details like the particular editing style and shot compositions of shows like Evangelion.

That makes the new Shin Kamen Rider an interesting study in the genealogy of these film techniques. We can see multiple generations of influence such as how 70s Tokusatsu shows led to the ’90s anime boom, and how those anime in turn influenced the rest of Japanese pop culture from then on. These two different eras in pop culture are now synthesizing into something that is both modern and also a nostalgic throwback.

The obvious parallels start in the spectacular fight scenes. Many of them have direct parallels to episodes of the TV show. There are shot-for-shot recreations of the same fight 50 years ago, implementing many of the same techniques. Most notably is the use of jump cuts to help sell the attacks. All through the fight, the edit jumps forward a couple of seconds in time, cutting from the punch/kick wind-ups directly to impact. This emphasizes the attacks and also creates the illusion that the characters are moving faster than they actually are.

A comparrison of the opening scene is Shin Kamen Rider and its classic show counterpart.

However, its main purpose is to build the overall retro aesthetic of the picture. The jump cuts are exciting, but they are also dated in a way that will turn off most modern audience members. Jump cuts aren’t the only technique resuscitated from obscurity. Most jarring is the film’s use of repeat cuts; these will be familiar to any fan of classic Hong Kong martial arts cinema. This is an action that repeats in the edit to emphasize its importance or impressiveness. It manifests in the film whenever Kamen Rider does a flip or a high-impact attack, but also occurs at more mundane actions, like our hero doing a simple flip into the battlefield. These moments are usually direct callbacks to moments in the ’70s show and, as such, run the risk of seeming dated.

That’s why it’s important that the film is so energized from the very beginning. Right from the jump, the entire edit is so dynamic that you don’t really have time to be distracted by the retro techniques. Shots rarely last more than a few seconds, and the abnormal coverage Anno and crew go for results in multiple angles that simply could not be maintained for an entire scene. This means each individual action gets at least one, if not multiple, different shots. Is Kamen Rider taking off his jacket? Well, then we get a close-up of his shoulders as he rips the jacket off, a second low-angle shot from behind the back of him tossing it to the side, and a third final shot of the jacket falling to the ground. This is even present in the quieter moments. A conversation between parties can fluctuate between multiple different angles, from medium shots to a standard shot-reverse-shot set-up, to direct POV’s of the characters and increasingly more bizarre shot compositions that highlight minor gestures and microscopic movements, segmenting off individual parts of bodies, focusing on the minutiae of their actions either to present quick jokes or just give the scene an animated tone. It’s most likely a leftover from the team’s animation background, where more stagnant shots highlighting seemingly mundane elements served as both a stylistic but also budgetary choice.

In fact, far from a straight retro rip, there are many elements that have been added by the new team. The most curious addition to the classic show’s toolbag is the use of POV shots. These are peppered throughout the film, from action to dialogue. This is a result of a widespread use of handheld cinematography. It’s a bold choice, especially in how it purposely clashes with the polished steady look of the retro scenes. Early on, it’s mostly present in the moments of shocking violence that are peppered across the runtime. We often get the POV of enemy grunts as they are about to be killed. (This is a shockingly hard R15+ with copious buckets of blood used in some scenes.) That’s, of course, very fun and exciting and leads to some pretty unique moments early on in the movie.

However, I’m more interested in the moments where we are given the POV of our main protagonist Hongo Takeshi, especially how it evolves throughout the film. At first, the moments are pretty standard, a simple way to get our protagonist’s perspective. Then the camera starts shaking. It usually happens near the end of fights, during the melodramatic peaks of the movie. It’s not a natural shake, it doesn’t feel like Hongo himself is shaking his head. It’s very jittery and unfocused, like something is wrong with the footage. This builds with every proceeding shot until the emotional zenith of the picture. I won’t spoil it, but needless to say, the camera almost goes wild at this moment. It’s such a modern feeling element, something that could only really be thought of in our current cinematic landscape. Almost reminiscent of digital era David Lynch.

This dichotomy serves as the aesthetic crux of the film. The contrast between the retro and the modern, between the handcrafted and computer-generated. The film utilizes complex CGI but also involves men in very fake-looking rubber suits. The editing is reminiscent of classic tokusatsu shows, but there is also heavy use of more contemporary handheld cinematography. The contrast even extends to the story, with the episodic monster of the week structure morphing into a much more violent and adult work.

Nostalgic reboots are not a new thing in today’s media landscape. Film and TV reboots are released every day, it seems. We are familiar with this trend in the U.S., of course, but it is also endemic in Japan. In the past few years, we have seen revivals of shows such as Urusei Yatsura, Trigun, and Inuyasha, as well as film adaptations of long-finished works such as Full Metal Alchemist. The “Shin” line of films absolutely fits snugly into this trend.

The difference, however, is in how this legacy is adapted. For the longest time, at least among American fans, Anno’s earlier work was seen as a sort of deconstruction or elevation of his influences. “Evangelion was the first mech show for adults.” However, it is clear that the source material is not being pandered to. This is not an attempt to elevate Kamen Rider. It has all the same cinematic tropes that would alienate most modern audience members; things they would describe as silly.

On the other hand, it is a film that has something to say beyond “wasn’t Kamen Rider cool in the ’70s.” It is not pure fan service for nostalgic 50-year-olds. Those elements are there, assuredly, but this film is just as much about pushing the style forward in unique ways as it is about becoming a comfortable return to a simpler time. In modern times, it seems most legacy reboots are either ambitionless appeals to nostalgia or updates that neglect the artistry of the past. Shin Kamen Rider succeeds not because it finally makes a version of Kamen Rider that can be regarded with genuine artistic interest but because it proves that Kamen Rider should have been viewed as such from the very beginning.