brother

Sarah had always been his favourite plaything. The others had never given him the same raw pleasure, the same disassociated joy and beauty free of effort or potential consequence. Not with Sarah the strain on muscle and tendon as he crushed the fragile bones of the hand or fingers. Never with Sarah the tedious hours bent scrubbing at a pool of blood, or burying the butchered remains. Of course, this meant that there were limits to their time spent together. The father had always said a child should know their limits. He'd learnt early never to completely sever a limb - too much, too soon and the shock was almost overwhelming. None of the regenerative drugs or automated surgical units at their disposal would be of any use if the body itself failed to perform its required tasks.

Naturally, there were others. Introspection would not always suffice, and on occasions the warm spray of blood on skin, the screaming music in his own ears were the only things to brighten a dark mood. Flowers of blood and stems of bone, with everything blue and red and pink between in the garden of his making.

But he'd always return to Sarah. She of the wide, blue eyes - mutely trying to reject every act, every consequence; always failing. He'd ask her to make him happy. Nicely at first, reasonably, companionably ... like a good brother. She would never listen, could never hear him, never just do what he asked. So he'd have to play puppeteer again. Let his mind drift up, and over her. Let his mind snatch at her with its strong hands. That frightened little sister, inside he could see her trying to scurry away, looking for that one place to hide she hoped she'd missed in a thousand thousand searches.

'Cut the skin, lift the skin, peel the skin o-ver': it reminded him of a child's song he'd heard somewhere. Maybe she had heard it, before. Sometimes he drifted a little as they played together. Sometimes he got too close and heard what the body was screaming. He never liked that ... he wasn't built for that. Sarah was. He was only there for the shock, and revulsion, for the terror, sickly sadness, and for the sights and sounds that he let filter through from her. Beautiful turbulent emotions, thoughts and images red and white and made perfect for an audience of one.

When it was over he'd feel completely sated for a time. Full of all that reluctant beauty, all that pain, he'd never come down this time. But he always did. Sarah would tend herself; running first to the supply of strong synth-narcs to inject her own happiness. She would cover their fun with the dermacompounds that would grow back pink healthy skin, or switch on the autotender that would fix and reattach the broken fingers. And he would listen - listen as she wondered to herself what sickness was in her that she needed this mutilation. What tumour or disease of the mind gave birth to her dark compulsion. Why did she wake up from time to time - her whole body aching and blood in her hair and under her nails - feeling like she had been running for miles and miles. Running after, not away.

She would try harder next time. Look deeper inside herself for motive or cause. Try to sever the compulsion. Try to escape. He knew she would fail again, as she always did. He knew the secret that she had forgotten - because his genesis had been the first escape. He knew what he was, what his name had been when they were both very young: Sarah's imaginary friend. He preferred Brother.

Following Kikujiro, Brother is something of a return to Beat Takeshi's traditional badassery. He shoots people, gores people, punches people, kicks people, and manages to stay incredibly cool though all of it, grimacing at his enemies' bloody corpses, brooding over them with his now-trademark eye twitch.

The exchanges between the two schools of gangsterdom are nothing short of brilliant. Takeshi comes across as a man of refinement trying to impart the fancy suits and expensive wines of high-dollar organized crime on a group of street hoodlums. It's the best Asian-black dynamic you'll find in action film today, with the possible exception of Rush Hour...

Oh yeah, and the movie even features a traditional yakuza de-fingering!

If you're into movies with lots of guns and a dash of wit, then Brother is for you. Rated R by the MPAA for pervasive strong violence, language and brief nudity. Yay!

Broth"er (?), n.; pl. Brothers (#) or Brethren (#). See Brethren. [OE. brother, AS. broor akin to OS. brothar, D. broeder, OHG. pruodar, G. bruder, Icel. broir, Sw. & Dan. broder, Goth. broar, Ir. brathair, W. brawd, pl. brodyr, Lith. brolis, Lett. brahlis, Russ. brat', Pol. & Serv. brat, OSlav. brat, L. frater, Skr. bhrat, Zend. bratar brother, Gr. , , a clansman. The common plural is Brothers; in the solemn style, Brethren, OE. pl. brether, bretheren, AS. dat. sing. br�xc7;er, nom. pl. broor, broru. &root;258. Cf. Frair, Fraternal.]

1.

A male person who has the same father and mother with another person, or who has one of them only. In the latter case he is more definitely called a half brother, or brother of the half blood.

Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother. Wordsworth.

2.

One related or closely united to another by some common tie or interest, as of rank, profession, membership in a society, toil, suffering, etc.; -- used among judges, clergymen, monks, physicians, lawers, professors of religion, etc.

Shak.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother. Shak.

3.

One who, or that which, resembles another in distinctive qualities or traits of character.

He also that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster. Prov. xviii. 9.

That April morn Of this the very brother. Wordsworth.

⇒ In Scripture, the term brother is applied to a kinsman by blood more remote than a son of the same parents, as in the case of Abraham and Lot, Jacob and Laban. In a more general sense, brother or brethren is used for fellow-man or fellow-men.

For of whom such massacre Make they but of their brethren, men of men? Milton.

Brother Jonathan, a humorous designation for the people of the United States collectively. The phrase is said to have originated from Washington's referring to the patriotic Jonathan Trumbull, governor of Connecticut, as "Brother Jonathan." -- Blood brother. See under Blood.

© Webster 1913.

Broth"er (?), v. t. [imp. & p. p. Brothered (#).]

To make a brother of; to call or treat as a brother; to admit to a brotherhood.

Sir W. Scott.

© Webster 1913.