Tokyo Vice: Mysteries in & of the East
Stars Ken Watanabe & Ansel Elgort; Image courtesy of HBO Max
Tokyo Vice. The name makes me think of three other pieces of media: Tokyo Drift, the ancient Fast and Furious movie which I have (mercifully) never seen as well as the (excellent) song of the same name, Grand Theft Auto, a game I have never played, and Miami Vice, a show which I have (also mercifully) not seen. Okay, so that’s four things. After watching the show starring Ansel Elgort and Ken Watanabe, I wonder if Tokyo Vice is the best name for this project, given that only one of the ensemble cast is part of the Tokyo police’s vice squad.
The show, set in the late 1990’s (1999, so as late as it gets), is loosely based on American journalist Jake Adelstein’s memoir, Tokyo Vice: An American Reporter on the Police Beat. Published in 2009, the first season of the 2022 show depicts Elgort’s protagonist as a talented young writer significantly out of his depth working at a popular Japanese-language newspaper in the milieu of a Tokyo dominated by rival mafia clans, or yakuza. As Jake begins his career, he gains (and loses, before gaining back) the confidence of his coworkers, superiors, and eventually, members of the yakuza. As the series progresses, the show asks you to suspend any disbelief towards how entwined Jake becomes with the machinations of organized criminals and their police counterparts. In effect, you are asked to enjoy the immersion into the somewhat standard for the genre “everything is not what it seems” fare while savoring the setting and ever-evolving narrative.
The world building is rich, as the show contextualizes the well-paced plot with allusions to citizens’ fear of and reliance on the criminal world. The show also places emphasis on shame and propriety embedded in an ancient, homogenous culture, and the less-than-hidden hidden culture lying beneath in which vice reigns alongside the yakuza themselves. A key American (and generally Western) pastime is voyeurism into the societies of (mostly, but not exclusively, East) Asia. Japan has attracted a large portion of this fascination from Americans, who have fixated on the insularity and opacity of this country and various aspects of its culture ranging from arts high and low to food, philosophy, corporate culture and beyond. It’s no wonder that Adelstein’s memoir has been transformed into prestige drama; actually, it’s a wonder that it didn’t happen sooner. Painting a lush picture of Tokyo in the American imagining, replete with addicts, gangsters, and female hosts of various ethnic backgrounds (no, they are not prostitutes! Someone tell Jake before he puts his foot in his mouth! Oh, too late…), the show also makes sure to depict regular people who have become casualties of the criminal world in which many of the main characters take part.
A Tokyo alleyway, one of the series’ many locations
Image courtesy of Tokyo Cheapo (tokyocheapo.com)
Voyeurism aside, the plot moves thanks to 8 decently paced one-hour long episodes, and the shots are beautiful. Glitzy Tokyo, shabby Tokyo; many versions of the city are on display for the viewer to enjoy. The characters and their characterization are, however, somewhat of a mixed bag. Throughout the season, Jake struggles with duties to his Missouri-based family and a sister who has attempted suicide at least once previously. We learn that he hasn’t seen them in 3 years, and Jake ultimately balks at notions of filial piety even after various setbacks which reach a climax in the season finale. The actual reasons why he has chosen this path of most resistance in which he must repeatedly put himself and those around him in danger are less fleshed out. Ranting to bemused Japanese coworkers and the other American on this show, Samantha (played by Rachel Keller, who does a decent job given her character’s seemingly unlikely and vaguely baffling situation), about American newsmedia’s emphasis on finding “the truth” through investigative journalism, we aren’t clearly shown why exactly Jake has chosen himself to expose such dangerous truths in a country that isn’t his own. Still, these outbursts of frustration early in the season are important (albeit tiresome) mechanisms for understanding this character and a section of the American population at large.
By relying on the oh-so nebulous notional truth that Jake believes is key to investigative journalism, he demonstrates an arrogance borne of the U.S.’s self-aggrandizing rhetoric about its place in the world that has only begun to subside in recent years. The truths he seeks based on his idea of what American journalism entails is a somewhat amusing notion given that journalistic outfits in the U.S. are underpinned by boards of directors comprised of or run outright by corporate denizens and other powerful private interests. This show is set before 9/11 shattered the myth of American invincibility and before the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan revealed the hypocrisy of the U.S.’s global democratic project. After World War II, Japan was, and arguably still is, reliant on the U.S.’s protection from its Chinese neighbor, as are Vietnam and other countries in the region. So it’s no wonder why Jake feels this arrogance, and though this makes him a frustrating person, the show does a decent job of making him into a believable character. It’s also no wonder why these rants fall on deaf or uncaring ears. No one, not even Samantha, cares as deeply about the things that Jake cares about. Injecting artificial camaraderie or any real debate between Jake and others regarding the ethical superiority of American journalism to Japanese journalism would have felt unnecessary and idiotic. The only character that does agree with Jake that they must out the truth is Emi (played by Rinko Kikuchi), his boss, who has little interest in the young American’s idealistic rhetoric and is more interested in informing the public for the good old-fashioned common good. These motivations align well, but it’s slightly mystifying that Emi has no fear of repercussions from the yakuza or from Jake’s sources within the police department even after he repeatedly targets them in his stories. Hopefully in season 2 (yes, the show has been renewed!) her pragmatism complicates her idealism, and we are treated to the tension that will inevitably bubble up between her and the necessarily impetuous Jake.
The series’s chief antagonist Shinzo Tozawa, deftly portrayed by Ayumi Tanida;
Image courtesy of IMDb.com
One of the show’s core strengths is its attention to detail in depicting the lives of its characters and the worlds which they inhabit. Significant attention is paid to Jake and Samantha with less, but not insubstantial attention given to the Japanese supporting characters. It’s these characters and the glimpses into their lived realities that make the show as interesting as it is. We are treated to various shots of a leader (played by Ayumi Tanida), but not the leader, of the upstart Tozawa clan struggling with declining health and the tantrum-like measures he takes against those around him to feel in control. We also catch a glimpse into the turbulent homelife of Jake’s immediate superior, Emi, (who’s actor does the best job of any on the show of physically expressing how the drudgery of daily life takes a toll), and of the potentially homosexual inclinations of Jake’s coworker and friend. These are just glimpses, as we spend the bulk of the show watching Jake (often literally) run hither and thither connecting dots and chasing sources.
Perhaps too much attention is paid to Samantha compared to the Japanese characters, who are treated almost as plot movers but given just enough motivation to stand alone. Each seems reduced to one motivation – the Tozawa leader seeks to protect and expand his power in Tokyo at the expense of the dominant Chihara-kai, Emi nobly seeks to educate the public, Sato (one of the lead characters, ably played by Shô Kasamatsu) wrangles with guilt surrounding his allegiance to the Chihara-kai clan and his place in the world as a bringer of violence, and so on. Samantha’s character struggles not from her characterization, but by the oddity of her circumstances. Central to her character are three things: an urge to stake out her own territory in Tokyo by opening her own hostess club, a need to evade agents of her past, and loyalty to a friend and coworker whom we get to know throughout the season. The third is believable enough, and Keller does a good job with the other two, but Samantha is another example of the showrunners asking us to suspend disbelief and enjoy the ride. Work visas aside, the show demonstrates an overreliance on this character as a female prop for two main leads to pine for and tussle over, but she holds enough of her own to make her compelling.
Rachel Keller as Samantha, on the run while looking this good;
Image courtesy of IMDb.com
I accept, after reading my own review, that Tokyo Vice is an apt name for this show. The drugs, lechery, and other vices on immediate display are justification enough, but the characters’ motivations are what makes the show worthy of the name. I also accept that Jake’s motivations for why he is so intent on engaging with Tokyo, the yakzua, and other elements of a world that is not his own are quite apparent, after rereading what I’ve written and recounting what I’ve seen. Jake’s vice and core trait is the thrill of the chase, and where better to chase than in a cultural context he finds deeply interesting and has worked hard to become a part of? He does not care that he puts himself in danger, and while he does feel guilty when those around him face repercussions due to his investigations, he rarely allows this guilt to dictate, mitigate, or suspend his actions. After losing a particularly useful source to suicide (instigated by the Tozawa clan), Jake expresses frustration not at the human cost of his investigation, but at the fact that his investigation has now stalled. His friend and fellow reporter expresses remorse and frustration with Jake’s single mindedness, feelings which Jake does not dignify in any real way. His goal is to find answers, rendering the cost inconsequential as the season continues. Detective Katagiri (one of the main characters, played by Ken Watanabe) even reinforces this perspective, placing blame on the source for becoming entangled with the Tozawas in the first place. A policeman like Katagiri is sure to have developed his own morality based on a career spent interacting with suspects and perpetrators of all types; Jake, however, just started his career as a journalist. How applicable should a detective’s morality actually be to a journalist’s? According to Jake, the answer is fully applicable. This mentor-mentee dynamic, emphasized throughout and especially in reference to Jake’s evolving morality, fuels the show even as it dips into a well-worn trope of the grizzled, incorruptible mentor and his fetal protégée. New ground is hardly broken from a content perspective; yet the show’s beauty is undeniable, and we’re kept on our toes throughout this initial season.
Jake’s approach to family, whom he feels guilty about abandoning but ultimately refuses to return to, reflects this refusal (or inability) to bow to guilt borne of obligation. A broad (slightly simplistic) theory of what differentiates Eastern cultures from Western ones is the individual prioritization of the collective over personal goals and desires. In this framework, Jake is the archetypal representative of a Western man who refuses to bow to familial or communal obligations if it means he must abandon his personal goals. Perhaps he’s just selfish, and we should not view him as anything other than a selfish young man in his early twenties seeking adventure and clinging to naïve idealism. But where’s the fun in that?
Regardless, Jake’s pursuit of his central vice impacts the world that he inhabits, ensuring that each character with whom he comes into contact must face some reckoning. I have not read the real-life Jake Adelstein memoir of the same name, but it is slightly telling (and very American) that the series posits that Jake’s actions have significant impact on his environs and their occupants. Luckily, the show never goes so far as to suggest that Jake’s actions fundamentally alter the trajectories of deep-rooted systems, institutions, and organizations within which he operates. The second season will likely seek to convey how important Jake really is for the future of the yakuza, Japanese journalism, and Tokyo itself, but at the moment we seem to only be gearing up for a demonstration of how one American man from Missouri can impact a society and culture thousands of miles away from the Midwestern heartland that informs who he is. As a standalone installment, Tokyo Vice’s first season does an excellent job of maintaining its momentum without sacrificing quality along the way.
A final note: Ansel Elgort, the lead actor who plays Jake Adelstein, has been accused of sexual misconduct with multiple minors. According to a Vulture piece, “Elgort… was accused in 2020 of sexually assaulting a 17-year-old in 2014. He denied the allegation on social media and instead described their relationship as ‘entirely consensual.’” The article details how Elgort faces accusations from a young woman that he solicited nude photos from when she was 17 and he was 20. Another woman also alleges further misconduct of a similar nature. The full article can be found here: https://www.vulture.com/2022/04/ansel-elgort-sexual-assault-allegations-timeline.html.
Watch Tokyo Vice’s 8 episode first season exclusively on HBO Max. The series will return for a second season, and I will be watching.
