Live-action manga and anime adaptations might be a dime-a-dozen nowadays, but it’s rare to find one which is genuinely unique and ages so wonderfully. Only a handful come to mind; Guyver: Dark Hero (1994), Lady Snowblood (1974), and Oldboy (2003). There was also one which incurred unfair treatment at the hands of distributors pre and post the initial release [1], Christophe Gans’ Crying Freeman (1995). Based on Kazuo Koike and Ryoichi Ikegami’s erotic and action-packed manga (which ran from 1986 to 1988) about a hitman who sheds tears after each assassination. Although it wasn’t the first foray into adapting the manga [2], it was certainly the first to do so with such violent beauty.
Gans manages to take all of the core themes and elements from the manga – romantic eroticism, assassin brainwashing, and violently creative assassinations – and elevates each scene in his own, exquisitely ethereal style. He would do something similar with another Japanese property (again collaborating with writer Roger Avary who did uncredited writing on Crying Freeman) with the first live-action Silent Hill (2006). Here, Gans would once again craft a visually interesting, but also a disgustingly real interpretation of Konami’s long-dormant game series. Even now, certain moments from Silent Hill still manage to chill and unnerve (the church massacre for instance).
Despite only directing a handful of films, every single one of Gans’ features feels wholly unique to him. It’s a case of quality over quantity and is one of the reasons his films – in particular, Crying Freeman – continue to gain devoted cult-like followings of fans, and rightly so. With Crying Freeman, Gans and his crew crafted what feels like a rarity in modern cinema – an exceptional adult thriller, with some outstanding action and fight choreography.
Before even a drop of claret hits the screen, Thomas Burstyn’s cinematography draws the viewer in. From the first shot to the last, each moment is framed like a panel from the original manga in vivid detail and at a refreshingly slower pace, allowing the viewer to saviour each delicious visual morsel. The British Colombian setting is used to stunning effect, especially when the showdown forces Yo (Mark Dacascos) to confront the Yakuza against the backdrop of a lush and leafy Canadian wilderness. This is further improved upon with Patrick O’Hern’s synth score which evokes dreamlike quality to proceedings; apropos given Freeman’s lucid killing assignments.
Lock and Load
Thankfully with Dacascos in the title role, Crying Freeman isn’t short of stylish action. Although they are sparse, every action beat hits harder than the last, thanks in large part to Dacascos’s dexterity and ability to ooze cool off the screen. Stunt coordinator Scott J. Ateah (Punisher: War Zone (2008); Freddy vs. Jason (2003); and The Crow: Stairway to Heaven (1998) working with Dacascos again) showcases some eye-watering action beats, in particular the shootouts.
Outside of John Woo’s Western output, the violent heroic bloodshed on display is some of the best from the 1990s, second only to the highly underrated The Replacement Killers (1998) (which wins by proxy because of Chow Yun Fat). When the bullets fly, the screen is littered with enough bloody squibs and pyrotechnic explosions to satisfy even the most cantankerous action fan.
Let’s not forget the final sword fight between Yo and Lady Hanada’s (the late Yôko Shimada) Yakuza which makes stunning use of Dacascos’ martial arts prowess and when to overcrank the action during the fight. Dacascos (apparently with Gans) choreographed this impressive sequence, full of his trademark gymnastics and badassery. It’s probably the most stylish exercise in murder with flips, spins, and dual sword welding, and it’s clear the camera feeds off Dacascos’s energy. Outside of Guyver: Dark Hero, and some of Gary Daniel’s fights in Fist of the North Star (1995), this is some of the best action found within a manga adaptation.
But it’s not just the action which stands out. Dacascos’ performance as Yo/Freeman is equal parts stoic and emotionally charged, essentially the best interpretation of Yo. This only strengthens the on-screen chemistry with Julie Condra, who feels like one of the manga illustrations come to life – her intense eyes mesmerising both the viewer’s and Yo’s attention. It’s easy to see why Condra and Dacascos would later marry, they feel like soulmates.
Emotional Assassin
It’s not all roses though, as there are imperfections dotted throughout this gem. Despite the calibre of Ron Perlman’s vocals, the dubbing of Tcheky Karyo (as Detective Netah) leads to a diluted version of his typically engaging screen presence [3]. He lacks the instantly recognisable and distinctive accent and cadence he’s identifiable for. The final third, although a fine action moment, feels a little too rushed compared to the purposeful pacing of the prior two-thirds. But these are minor gripes for a frankly exceptional and distinctive manga adaptation.
Ultimately, Crying Freeman is a potent mix of death, sex, and sensuality sometimes in the same scenes. Emu’s attraction and fascination with Yo are kickstarted after witnessing death, which is only further cemented during her sultry voiceover. Sex and death are intrinsically intertwined within the film’s subtext, where it even transposes itself onto Detective Netah and Lady Hanada’s affair, a raw unbridled (almost Shakespearean) passion which leads to the former’s death at the hands of his lover.
Twenty-seven years on, it still feels rare to come across an action thriller which expertly crafts heroic bloodshed action and seduction in such an artistic way as Crying Freeman does. The passion, whether through sex or assassination, emanates off the screen and despite this being Gans’ first full-length feature, it remains his most accomplished outside of Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001); maybe it’s the Gans & Dacascos effect? Lust, love, and violence never looked this good.
[1] At the time of writing (September 2022), Crying Freeman is still not available in any physical format in North America or Canada but would see a streaming release on Amazon Prime in 2018. More recently it saw a Steelbook Blu-Ray release from France (from Metropolitan Film & Video) and a limited-edition Blu-Ray in Germany (from Turbine Media who also released it in 4K). Both are now, sadly, incredibly pricey.
[2] 1990 would see two loose adaptions of Koike and Ikegami’s. The first would be the Simon Yam starrer A Killer’s Romance (1990) released in May of that year and directed by the late great Philip Ko (Tiger on the Beat (1988)). It was closely followed in August by the bizarre, yet highly entertaining The Dragon from Russian (1990) by schlockmeister extraordinaire Clarence Fok (Naked Killer (1992), Her Name is Cat (1998), and The Iceman Cometh (1989) one of Yuen Biao and Yuen Wah’s finest fight films). Both have interesting elements; the former is a gritty hard-boiled thriller, whereas the latter embraces gravity-defying lunacy to the point of farce. Despite neither reaching the almost flawless execution of Gan’s attempt, there’s still plenty to enjoy with each of these loose interpretations.
[3] Karyo’s vocals wouldn’t be the only ones to be dubbed over by another actor. Julie Condra would be re-dubbed by Canadian actress Deborah Kara Unger, to add a more sultry mysteriousness to Emu’s character. Unger would later re-team with Gans on Silent Hill.
DOM O'BRIEN 
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