"...unless the person sitting next to you is a detective and you happen to be a criminal." And this is exactly what happens in "What Happened in New York", a most unusual episode of "Furuhata Ninzaburô", a show which pretty much specializes in the unusual, the subversive, and the form-busting. Only a show that does would go to New York only to film the entire episode inside a dingy old bus. That's the first subversion here. The entire story takes place on a bus, mostly in the same seats and between the same two people - wily inspector Furuhata and his fellow passenger and co-patriot Noriko. The second subversion is that the murder investigation is already over. In fact, the murder had happened years ago and Furuhata, trapped on a long and boring bus trip, has only Noriko's recollection to go off.
This set-up is not entirely unheard of in mystery fiction. Sherlock Holmes solved the mystery of "The Five Orange Pips" from his armchair, Hercule Poirot bet five pounds and his reputation that he could solve "The Disappearance of Mr Davenheim" without leaving his flat and Nero Wolfe made a career from his famous brownstone. And yet, on television, such a premise is a curiosity. In that world, "Furuhata Ninzaburô" is a genuine pioneer - a show that's not afraid of being uncinematic, only of being predictable. What the setting gives the show, however, is a sense of claustrophobia and the endless boredom of a long trip. Such a setting thus becomes a perfect place for a killer to confess their sins and a bored detective to accept and play a real-life game of "Clue".
Honami Suzuki plays the killer/challenger and she is probably the best guest star the show's had since Akina Nakamori. Her performance, cool yet unaffected, is worthy of some of the finest noir femme fatales. With her sunglasses worn at night and stylish costume, film noir was clearly an influence (as befits the American setting) and yet Kôki Mitani writes her as a very Japanese character - soulful, sentimental and tortured by guilt. The monologue she delivers in the final minutes of the episode is the best text Mitani's written for the show yet and Suzuki plays it to perfection.
Keita Kôno directs the episode in his usual workmanlike manner but in this case, his unassuming direction is a perfect fit. His work never distracts from the dialogue which is front and centre. There are no flashbacks, no photos, no recreations. The entire story is told through dialogue. The only distraction comes in the form of a vaguely racist comedic subplot involving Shintaro and a female passenger on the bus. It doesn't quite work, especially not in conjunction with such a serious, emotional mystery and, for the first time in the show, the gags started getting a little obnoxious. Still, even this side story gets a nice twist, a subversion of the obvious and the conclusion is quite entertaining.
This set-up is not entirely unheard of in mystery fiction. Sherlock Holmes solved the mystery of "The Five Orange Pips" from his armchair, Hercule Poirot bet five pounds and his reputation that he could solve "The Disappearance of Mr Davenheim" without leaving his flat and Nero Wolfe made a career from his famous brownstone. And yet, on television, such a premise is a curiosity. In that world, "Furuhata Ninzaburô" is a genuine pioneer - a show that's not afraid of being uncinematic, only of being predictable. What the setting gives the show, however, is a sense of claustrophobia and the endless boredom of a long trip. Such a setting thus becomes a perfect place for a killer to confess their sins and a bored detective to accept and play a real-life game of "Clue".
Honami Suzuki plays the killer/challenger and she is probably the best guest star the show's had since Akina Nakamori. Her performance, cool yet unaffected, is worthy of some of the finest noir femme fatales. With her sunglasses worn at night and stylish costume, film noir was clearly an influence (as befits the American setting) and yet Kôki Mitani writes her as a very Japanese character - soulful, sentimental and tortured by guilt. The monologue she delivers in the final minutes of the episode is the best text Mitani's written for the show yet and Suzuki plays it to perfection.
Keita Kôno directs the episode in his usual workmanlike manner but in this case, his unassuming direction is a perfect fit. His work never distracts from the dialogue which is front and centre. There are no flashbacks, no photos, no recreations. The entire story is told through dialogue. The only distraction comes in the form of a vaguely racist comedic subplot involving Shintaro and a female passenger on the bus. It doesn't quite work, especially not in conjunction with such a serious, emotional mystery and, for the first time in the show, the gags started getting a little obnoxious. Still, even this side story gets a nice twist, a subversion of the obvious and the conclusion is quite entertaining.
