I’ve been waiting for this one since last summer.
Despite its distributor’s claims of theatrical release, Tokyo Cowboy never made it to the Northern California market, and evidence suggests only a few film festival appearances. Streaming options also took longer than usual, but patience has been rewarded.
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| Having thus far failed to impress anybody at the Lazy River Ranch, Hideki (Arata Iura) is surprised when Javier (Goya Robles) offers a genuine sign of friendship. |
Scripters Dave Boyle and Ayako Fujitani have concocted a marvelous premise that revolves around a hopeless culture clash: a quiet, slow-burn dramedy that is — by turns — aggravating, frustrating, and gently amusing. It also speaks volumes about how wildly contrasting people must forge a common bond ... and be willing to do so.
On top of which, a great moral: Sometimes true happiness can be found only when we’re brave enough to step outside our comfort zone.
Marc Marriott — in a sparkling feature directorial debut — maintains just the right tone, and elicits delicately shaded performances from everybody, even those in fleeting supporting roles.
Hideki Sakai (Arata Iura) has built a career as a Japanese corporate turnaround artist employed by Miki Holdings Ltd.: confident that he has the “secret sauce” to recharge any stagnant brand. He’s introduced as his company takes over the Matsuyama Handmade Chocolate company, where employees are shown carefully crafting candy delicacies made from the finest chocolate.
The elderly Mr. Matsuyama (Masashi Arifuku), lacking grandchildren to inherit his business, reluctantly relinquishes control as Hideki assures him that the company will be well chaperoned.
Uh-huh.
Within days, the cocoa is out-sourced to one of Miki’s holdings in Brazil, the product menu is slimmed down, artisan employees are replaced by a production line, the word “Handmade” is removed from the company name, and its previously attractive logo is replaced by an ugly blend of sharp lines and blobby colors ... all of which cuts front-end expenses by 15 percent.
(At what cost to the taste of the final product? That question has a delectably slow build and a great payoff.)
Miki’s corporate President Miwa (Ryô Iwamatsu) is pleased.
His company’s recent acquisition of Kerrygold Dairy, in the States, includes one of the smaller items in its portfolio: Montana’s 70,000 acre Lazy River Ranch, with “dreadful margins.” Hideki’s immediate boss, corporate vice-president Keiko (Ayako Fujitani), advises selling it as quickly as possible ... but Hideki senses another challenge.
Given the rising popularity of wagyu beef, surely this money-hemorrhaging cattle ranch can be transformed into a thriving enterprise ... and the self-assured Hideki believes he’s just the man for the job. Miwa gives his blessing.
Before departing for the States, though, Hideki has other business with Keiko ... with whom he’s engaged (!). Their reserved relationship dynamic results both from the necessities of respective employment status, and the oh-so-Japanese brand of stiff formality. (One cannot imagine these two at a karaoke bar.)
That aside, Keiko worries that Hideki might be too laser-focused. “Not everything is about reading the numbers,” she cautions him.
The next day accompanied by the jovial Wada (Jun Kunimura), a Japanese beef consultant, Hideki flies to Montana for what he assumes will be another quick fix.
The first sign of arrogant pride going before a fall: his naïve insistence on renting an average suburban sedan, despite the agent’s strong advice to get a four-wheel-drive vehicle.
The second mistake: Hideki’s reflexive preference for his usual business-suited attire and ubiquitous briefcase, a “look” that understandably garners raised eyebrows and snickers from ranch co-owner Peg (Robin Weigert) and her half-dozen cowboy employees. (As eventually is bluntly stated, Hideki is in desperate need of a “sartorial intervention.”)
Hideki’s gifts, intended as ice-breakers? Matsuyama chocolate bars.
The third mistake: Hideki haughtily assumes that Peg and her staff will just fall into line with his grandiose suggestions, the way Matsuyama did. But the ranch folks immediately recognize that Hideki doesn’t know a damn thing about their operation; and that the necessary parameters for raising wagyu cattle are impossible on the ranch’s terrain; and that he’s merely the most recent in a long line of corporate jerks attempting to tell Peg — who grew up on the ranch — how to better run her operation.
This is the gut-punch portion of Boyle and Fujitani’s script, because — the “fish out of water” humor notwithstanding — this sort of corporate crap happens increasingly often these days, when equity firms scoop up companies merely to strip easy assets, end product quality be damned.
It’s therefore tempting to dismiss Hideki as a soulless villain. But no; Iura’s’ performance is so carefully shaded, that we feel sorry for the guy. His often bewildered expression reflects a belief that he’s doing the right thing, and cannot understand why it isn’t working. His carefully honed politeness also gets him nowhere, among these rougher new companions.
On top of which, everything goes wrong, starting with lost luggage.
Weigert is note-perfect as Peg, initially savvy enough to be accommodating and patient, but soon justifiably exasperated by her visitor’s wildly impractical suggestions. Weigert’s stand-out moment comes when the aggrieved Peg finally shares a bit of personal history with Hideki.
Meanwhile, though, she “assigns” him to Javier (Goya Robles), a ranch hand whose rodeo career was cut short by a busted leg. Like his mates, Javier initially regards Hideki with amused contempt, but that soon fades. Robles’ performance is complex: Javier is too instinctively courteous and sympathetic, and understands the frustration of plans gone awry.
Watching these two men bond, every so slowly, is totally endearing.
It’s also delightful — augmenting the film’s multicultural theme — that Hideki’s eventual epiphany results from his exposure to Javier’s Mexican culture.
Kunimura is a hoot as Wada, who goes hilariously native the moment he reaches the ranch, drinking too much and jonesing for a Hardee’s hamburger. Scout Smith is adorable as Cindy, the desk clerk at Hideki’s motel, who — unlike anybody else — made the effort to learn a bit of Japanese before his arrival.
Oscar Ignacio Jiménez’ cinematography exploits everything marvelous and wonderful about the Big Sky setting, which early on prompts Hideki to say that Montana is “ big ... wide.”
The one sour note (literally) is Chad Cannon’s haphazard score, which never quite fits the scene it accompanies.
It’s impossible to imagine where all this will lead, in the third act, and that’s half the fun.
And it would be nice if things worked out in such a manner — at least occasionally — in the real world.
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