Martial Artist Cinema Academy 12: "The Lines That Define Me" - The Madness of Ryusei Yokohama

Ryusei Yokohama strangely lacks any hint of machismo.
This is despite the fact that he practiced Kyokushin Karate, a martial art that is the very embodiment of "machismo."

I also practiced Kyokushin Karate in the 90s, and back then, it was a world of men—no, "warriors"—who lived by the creed, "If you're a man, stand and trade blows. If you back down, I'll kill you." There were many fighters who seemed unable to adapt to society, possessed by a certain madness.

There were fighters who would try to keep fighting even with finger bones piercing through their skin. There were fighters who would strap up broken limbs with casts and keep fighting. There were fighters who would mutter, "I don't feel like I've trained unless I'm peeing blood" (that was my teacher at the time).
There were handsome fighters, to be sure, but they were all rugged, fierce types.
There was no one as polished and handsome as Ryusei Yokohama.

The high kicks, spinning back kicks, and tornado kicks he shows when prompted on variety shows have incredible sharpness. However, he himself doesn't seem particularly obsessed with action. Even when I watch works centered on action, I feel somewhat uncomfortable.

And so, I am at a loss.
The concept of this "Martial Artist Cinema Academy" is for a "martial artist writer to talk about action movies from a biased perspective." I was given the assignment to "write about Ryusei Yokohama," but the man himself doesn't seem very action-oriented. I'm starting to feel like Yoshiyuki Osawa.

Come to think of it, isn't a movie starring him currently in theaters? It's supposedly about ink wash painting. That's a sophisticated movie. I didn't have high expectations, but I'll watch it for reference. I'll make sure to get a receipt, too.

"Could I get a receipt?" (in a nice voice)
"Who should I make it out to?"
"To 'Sama' (the honorable one)."
"We can't do 'Sama'."
"...Oh, then, 'BadCats Weekly' please!"
"...Bad...cat...? How do you write that in kanji?"
"Just make it out to 'Hashima' then!"
I paid for it myself and had a receipt made out to myself. I won't do things I'm not used to again.

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After watching it and leaving the theater, I booked my next seat on my smartphone. I just had to see it again. While I was at it, I searched for "Ink Wash Painting Class [My City]." Come to think of it, when I watched the "Chihayafuru" series by the same director, Norihiro Koizumi, I also searched for "Karuta Class [My City]." If I had watched "Chihayafuru" in my teens, I would have chosen the path of competitive karuta instead of karate. If I had, I might have had a more elegant youth. And now, I feel like I want to be an "Ink Wash Painting Writer" rather than a "Martial Artist Writer."

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Whether it's "Chihayafuru" or this film, what is depicted is a serene world of Japanese tradition, but flowing at the root is a certain kind of "madness."
The craziness of Chihaya Ayase (Suzu Hirose), Shinobu Wakamiya (Mayu Matsuoka), and Hisashi Suo (Kento Kaku) in "Chihayafuru" is close to that of the Kyokushin Karate fighters.
Surprisingly, the person I felt the most madness from in this film was Yosuke Eguchi.

"Sosuke Aoyama (Ryusei Yokohama), a college student with a painful past, ends up becoming a disciple of the ink wash painting master Kozan Shinoda (Tomokazu Miura)."
The top disciple under Kozan is Kohon Nishihama, played by Yosuke Eguchi. He is a good older brother figure who is always smiling and takes good care of his juniors.

But there is a scene where he writes a huge ink wash painting at a demonstration as a pinch hitter for Master Kozan, who collapsed from a sudden illness. The sparkle in his eyes in this scene is extraordinary. With dilated pupils and a fixed smile, he breathes life into a giant dragon using a thick brush and even his T-shirt.

Ink wash painting seems to be the act of breathing "life" into a mere picture. It probably isn't possible to breathe life into something with an average level of intensity. It is only possible with a level of concentration that makes you forget to blink, combined with pure ecstasy. Probably.
You cannot redo an ink wash painting. Along the way, he makes a mistake, but he even enjoys that mishap.

As a contrasting figure, there is Chiei Shinoda (Master Kozan's granddaughter), also a disciple of Kozan. She is played by Kaya Kiyohara. As was the case in "Chihayafuru," she suits the "poker-faced beauty" role well. She is the most beautiful in the world of poker faces. Personally, she is a type of beauty I really like.

This Chiei paints incredibly precise floral paintings, but she cannot easily get Master Kozan to acknowledge her. It is because there is no "life" in her paintings.
That is why Chiei has no smile. She always faces the rice paper with a stern expression. She is the exact opposite of Kohon, who runs his brush with a bursting smile that borders on psychopathic. If Kohon were to look at her, he would probably think, "Why do you look so miserable when you're doing something so fun?"
She seems to be the type who is too serious at heart and "cannot go crazy."

And then there is the protagonist, Sosuke. Chiei describes his paintings as "having sorrow in the lines even though he draws as happily as a child." That "sorrow" stems from his painful past.
Normally, Sosuke is quiet and calm. He is by no means gloomy, but he never laughs out loud either. He carries his past with him somewhere, and deep in his heart, there is a sense of world-weariness. There is no power in his eyes.
But when he faces the rice paper, he continues to draw with a face as lively as a "child," just as Chiei says, and before he knows it, the room is filled with paintings. He has plenty of potential to be a psychopath.

This work became a masterpiece because it did not make these two into an easy romantic relationship. It depicts them as rivals, as senior and junior, and as companions. I am really, really glad there were no kiss scenes... It would have turned into a cheap, dime-a-dozen entertainment movie. I am sincerely grateful for Director Koizumi's sense of balance.
Whether these picture-perfect, beautiful people get together or break up, that doesn't matter. What matters is whether the two of them can become true "ink wash painting maniacs."

In the final part of the story, Chiei, who must have finally painted a picture she was satisfied with, shows a smile from the heart for the first time. Because she had a poker face throughout the entire film, this smile is truly beautiful.
And Sosuke takes on the challenge of painting in front of a large audience. The sparkle in his eyes at that moment has not a trace of dark shadow. He is so lively that one can even feel a madness similar to that of his senior, Kohon.
I have seen those eyes, possessed by that madness, somewhere before. They were the eyes of the top Kyokushin Karate fighters I saw long ago.

I see.
Ryusei Yokohama was just mimicking. He was just wearing the skin of a handsome actor. His true nature was still that of a mad karateka.
If Ryusei Yokohama hadn't been scouted in Harajuku and was still a Kyokushin Karate fighter today, I think he would have been engaged in battles that would make one's soul tremble. Even if he were hurt or his bones were broken, he would have faced his opponent until his consciousness was cut off.
Such a battle cannot be fought by an ordinary person.
After all, you have to be crazy.