Every now and then when the days are long, I take the train from Montrose across the width of Scotland to Kyle of Lochalsh. The scenery in “Tornado” (Lionsgate), showing now at the Montrose Playhouse, reminds me of the western third of the journey, which is especially beautiful. Grasslands with heather, gorse, and thistle; tufty, long grass gently blowing in the wind; inviting, oh-so-still lochs; cloud on the low hills; discrete patches of mini-forest still remaining after the Clearances—and all of it almost completely deserted.
It has all been photographed with great skill and mindful attention. Shots are lined up formally, camera angles wide enough to allow the fabulous colours and natural light of the Scottish sky to cut through, demonstrating clearly the time of day of the associated action. Take a perfect scene near the end: the Japanese protagonist Tornado, played by Kōki,, is rowing a small boat across a loch. The sky at dusk is almost exactly the same colour as the water of the loch—Tornado and the boat (this time in the distance) are dark, in silhouette, because the light is quickly fading. But then, to make the cinematic accomplishment even more impressive, we cut to the group of men, under boss Sugar, played by Tim Roth, who are in a wooded area; the night sky is exactly the same colour. The filmmakers must have been so patient to wait for these fleeting moments. Wonderful.
The men are thieves who have stolen two bags of gold; this has in turn been stolen from them by a pickpocket boy who is hidden along with the stolen-stolen-loot underneath a wagon which is used as a stage for a touring puppet-show. Tornado and her dad, played by Takehiro Hira, then hide the gold in the ground and the original thieves set about getting it back. Tornado escapes from the men, hiding with a travelling circus; but eventually the gang arrives, burning down their camp, and Tornado seeks murderous revenge.
The film, which is set in 1790, has little dialog and what there is is mostly short, barked threats: “Take me to the gold or I’ll slit your throat.” “Don’t move or I’ll break every bone in your body.” “If you run I’ll catch you and if she runs I’ll kill you.” “I am torn between hiring you and hanging you.” As the film continued, I wondered whether the lack of anything original meant that the movie might have been better with no screenplay at all. The benefit would have been to convert it from a thriller (it is overly violent towards the end) into a gentler wildlife-photography film. (On the other hand, I guess it must have been very easy for the actors to learn their lines.)
I dare say Screen Scotland supported the production of “Tornado” to interest future tourists, to provide jobs for the crew, and to scout locations. All of these are worthy reasons; there isn’t much connection with Scotland otherwise. It isn’t really explained why the touring circus or puppet show are here, why the gold was where it was, how the thieves knew about it, or what the gang do the rest of the time. The gang itself seems somehow rather incompetent, they reminded me for some odd reason of the Ant Hill Mob of “Wacky Races” (1968–9) cartoon fame. There is a cursory sub-plot involving the resentful, angry, competitive relationship between Sugar and his adult son, patronisingly called “Little” Sugar, played by Jack Lowden, who spends much of his time onscreen leaning against trees—plotting, pouting or sullenly snooping.
The set with the camp has been expertly built with the odds and ends expected of a travelling circus. There are tents, barrels, chains, washing lines, wagons with huge wheels, bunting on long ropes tied to wooden poles, pans the size of cauldrons, A-frames made of sticks, a makeshift bell, an empty birdcage gently creaking in the wind.
Only 22, Kōki, (stylised with the comma), the professional name for Japanese model-actor-songwriter Mitsuki Kimura, has been remarkably prolific and smoothly holds her own in this film. Inevitably the two famous, white, male actors have higher billing in the credits, but it is Kōki, who has the best role and the most screen time. In many tight close-ups, her face convincingly displays strongly opposing emotions consistent with the moment in the drama: fear or fearlessness, grief or elation, kindness or murderousness. It’s a shame that neither she nor her father are given any backstory (nobody else is either for that matter); I would have really liked to find out why he, in particular, became a Samurai practitioner, and then remained in tiptop physical shape to continue to train alone in the woods, as well as an entertainer, a puppeteer.
Gorgeous, rural Highland Scotland is the substantial star though—and the overriding reason to go and see “Tornado” while it’s on the big screen at the Playhouse. Of course, Scotland is the backdrop to films on a semi-regular basis (“Last Breath” (2025), say) but the familiar landscape has been photographed here with such love, creativity and attention to detail that it makes it rather special. Released as it was over the summer-solstice period, it has encouraged me to take that day-long train journey once again while the unforgettable light at this time of year is still with us.
Adam Poole
21st June 2025
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