aku Takahashi from Japan is a professional boxer. At the beginning of 2010, he moved to the United States to become a world champion, since that country offered better opportunities. But tragedy struck; and when he needed to communicate misconduct to various authorities, a language barrier, general disregard, and unfriendly foreign policies became tremendous impasses.

In June of 2020, Gaku was rear-ended on the L.A. freeway in a potential hit-and-run. When he confronted the offender, who was about to flee the scene, that reckless driver began a racist diatribe and lashed out, pummeling Takahashi onto the ground. After the beating (against which the pugilist opted not to fight back, afraid of how police might respond), an extensive period of physical therapy was necessary; his whole life was changed. “You can’t box professionally anymore,” insists Gaku’s doctor.

While Takahashi’s story is compelling and infuriating – the injustice is colossal, particularly with the distrust and corruption of law enforcement agencies – the manner in which it’s told is choppy and disjointed. In an effort to withhold information for manufactured tension, the events are told out-of-order, hampering a clear narrative; for a short documentary, lasting just a little more than 10 minutes, it’s entirely pointless to rearrange or muddy the timeline. It merely makes learning about Gaku’s mistreatment foggier. Plus, though the central figure’s ordeal is worthy of attention in this format, it’s unfinished and irresolute; there’s no updates on the perpetrator or a recovery (in body or career). It’s essentially an open-ended premise that hints at unfairness and corruption without presenting enough details to fully understand the inhumanity. No reference to COVID-19 ever occurs, either, which would have been integral for recognizing the xenophobic targeting of an Asian man in a hate crime during this time period.

– Mike Massie