TIFF Review: Vintage Violence Is a Hyperactive Culture Clash and an Acquired Taste

by · The Film Stage

Eugene Kotlyarenko is a filmmaker operating in the present tense—for better or worse, depending on how you look at it. No matter how online you think you might be, he’s probably more online, his films moving at a relentless pace that reflects our current age of all information, all the time. Livestreams, texting, video games, and hidden cameras are a few of the tools in his arsenal of screen life weaponry, none so much deployed as carpet-bombed on viewers. It’s a bombardment bound to cause headaches for some, but Kotlyarenko’s reckoning with our current culture is worth considering; the clash between small screens and the big screen can feel like the modes of narrative film buckling under the weight of our tech-induced hellscape. In some ways, he’s the Tony Scott we deserve.

Vintage Violence, his latest film, is yet another step forward for Kotlyarenko’s hyperkinetic style, this time toward the mainstream in its take on a violent crime caper that spins wildly out of control. Urban explorer and livestreamer Carter (Cole Sprouse), just out of prison after an accident that killed his brother, goes live to check out an abandoned property, which we see via a 19×6 screen with a flurry of comments and audio messages from fans willing to drop the money to send them. As difficult as it is to follow the activity alongside Carter discovering an underground mine, the film then cuts to Japan, where Izumi (Kiko Mizuhara) watches the stream while entertaining drunk businessmen at a karaoke bar. When Carter discovers a box of old Levi’s jeans, she catches his attention by saying she can sell them for a massive amount of money in her country’s lucrative market for vintage denim.

Carter hops a plane to Tokyo, and Vintage Violence unveils itself as a loving tribute to eccentric, go-for-broke Japanese cinema, Kotlyarenko-style. That means it’s thrilling and funny, corny and juvenile, innovative yet exhausting. There are advantages and disadvantages to being somehow a lot and too much at the same time. When he hits the right groove, Kotlyarenko mashes up the crossed-wire chaos of a Guy Ritchie plot with the off-kilter sensibilities of Takashi Miike and drags it to 2026 in truly creative ways, like a chase scene where separated AirPods act as a sonar device within a massive arcade. Because the film can’t sustain that specific energy, some sequences dissolve into an undiscerning blur until things lock back in.

In terms of story, there are concurrent plotlines that break off and reconnect. Izumi’s boyfriend Hiro (Nijiro Murakami) finds a buyer with an America-obsessed Yakuza named Edoga (Hio Miyazawa), only to get kidnapped by exiled gang member Ko (Pierre Taki) who intends to use Hiro as a pawn to get revenge on Edoga. Izumi scams Carter and steals his belongings, leaving him at the U.S. embassy where he’s pursued by a bumbling American agent (Vishwam Velandy) while he finds himself in misadventures en route to reclaiming the jeans. The Japanese hate the Americans while the Americans are too boorish to care about it. If you lose the plot at any point, you’ll find it again eventually. 

There are pleasures throughout. The overwhelming nature of a film like this means the excellent work of DP Sean Price Williams and editors Tucker Bennett and Sabrina Greco (along with Kotlyarenko) might not get the praise they deserve, despite being this film’s backbone. While Sprouse can’t serve as a lead, there are enough distractions and a strong ensemble to carry him along (Taki and Velandy’s performances earn the biggest laughs). If there’s any sense of hesitation in my recommendation of Vintage Violence, it’s only because Kotlyarenko is a truly acquired taste; not everyone enjoys the janky thrills of a spinning carnival ride that’s one loose bolt away from a Final Destination-style accident. Those who know what they’re getting into should expect a fun time, while those prone to nausea should rightfully stay away. If you’re not sure which side you fall on, there’s only one way to find out.          

Vintage Violence premiered at TIFF 2026.