Abel Ferrera’s Bad Lieutenant, featuring Harvey Keitel as a morally decaying, cocaine-addicted cop, is often described as a journey through the seedy underbelly of urban life. The film’s tone is dark and chaotic, much like the character it portrays. When Japanese director Takashi Miike was approached to adapt the story for a Tokyo setting, it was seen as an intriguing—if controversial—idea. Miike is known for his stylish, often brutal approach to horror and action, blending graphic violence with artistic flair. His version, Bad Lieutenant: Tokyo, promised a fusion of moral decay and physical brutality, but the film ends up being more of a mixed bag, balancing moments of brilliance with frustrating inconsistencies. At the center of the film is Shun Oguri as Lieutenant Yabuki, a character who closely mirrors Keitel’s original portrayal, transplanted into the gritty, claustrophobic streets of Tokyo. Yabuki is often found in dimly lit basements, back alleys, and exclusive gambling dens, where the city’s waste and neon lights collide. Unlike the shaky, handheld style of Ferrera’s original, Miike uses steady, elegant camera work. Yabuki moves slowly, burdened by his own demons, but when he’s high on meth or forced into desperate situations, he erupts in wild, exaggerated physicality that echoes earlier portrayals of the character, notably Nicolas Cage’s over-the-top performance. The film’s early scenes are engaging, particularly Yabuki’s interactions with sex workers who are fascinated by his strange, toxic energy. He also encounters a young drug dealer influenced by his generous but manipulative grandfather, who is cooking meth in the background. A brief but poignant moment occurs when Yabuki is confronted by his children, who warn him not to fall asleep at the wheel and to be kind to their mother. The scene is heart-wrenching, but Yabuki has no response—his silence is telling. These characters are never seen again, leaving a sense of emotional distance. As the story progresses, a string of brutal murders pulls Yabuki away from his chaotic life and into a past entangled with the Yakuza. The violence is graphic but somewhat restrained, possibly to appeal to a broader North American audience. Lily James plays an FBI agent, Gwen Birgssen, who is awkwardly inserted into the narrative as part of a cross-continental collaboration. Her performance, while well-intentioned, feels out of place, especially as she struggles with an exaggerated American accent and a language barrier with Oguri’s character. Meanwhile, Liv Morgan plays Megan, a young woman caught in a drug-related scandal while studying in Tokyo. Her subplot is more compelling, though the film’s convoluted structure makes it hard to fully appreciate. Bad Lieutenant: Tokyo premieres at the Toronto Film Festival and will be released later this year.