It’s funny how different the air feels. Classic American noir is all compression and claustrophobia — everything squeezed into alleyways. Here, in this Japanese neo-noir, the world feels wider, like trouble has room to move.
A Colt Is My Passport plays like a mash-up: hardboiled hitman thriller, yakuza business, with a spaghetti-western swagger drifting through the score. It’s lean and brisk, and it even tosses in a Bond-ish flourish (the sneaky second brake behind the driver’s seat). And Joe Shishido turns up looking like he’s smuggled two extra cheekbones through customs — you can’t not stare.
The rough edges show. Some of the violence plays more theatrical than visceral — big reactions, bodies flying — and the low-budget seams peek through. Still, there’s real confidence in the staging and plenty of cool in the stride. Not quite top-shelf, but a stylish getaway worth taking.