Deliriously fast-paced, with some scenes barely clearing the 20-second mark, and perfectly encapsulating the barking, every-moment-a-world-ending-crisis energy of marketing whiz-kids in a booming post-war economy. I am certain, given the speed with which events happen and words are slung out, that it loses a bit in translation, but the gleeful toxicity and cynicism come through loud and clear. Depicts the Americanisation of Japanese culture as a descent into loud, visually clumsy and chaotic hell, where everyone from hotshot businessmen to addleheaded teenagers are consumed by calculating narcissism. Has just enough zany moments to avoid feeling totally bleak, but this is definitely more Sweet Smell of Success than Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter, of the films that it most openly invites comparison to.