That link only took me to a general directory, here is the review:
Machismo-happy genremaniacs who consider Quentin Tarantino the last word in idiosyncratic gangster movies are likely to start gnawing on their baseball caps when they encounter the English-subtitled Gonin (The Five), Japanese writer/director Takashi Ishii's (Alone in the Night) dark, pounding exercise in mayhem, revenge, nihilism and despair in contemporary Tokyo. The movie pushes the envelope of the genre not only with its subjective, often surrealistic, visual design, but by sending several of its seethingly hypermasculine characters into each other's arms during those brief moments when they aren't running for their lives, taking out an enemy, getting shot or beating the crap out of each other.
The quintet of title characters-Bandai (Koichi Sato), a financially strapped disco owner who owes a fortune to the Ogoshi, a brutal yakuza gang; Mitsuya (Masahiro Motoki), a knife-wielding gay hustler who specializes in blackmailing closeted politicians; the manic, unpredictable Ogiwara (Naoto Takenaka), a corporate wage-earner who can't bring himself to tell his family that he's been downsized; Hizu (Jinpachi Nezu), an ex-cop/ex-con now working as a bouncer in a B-girl bar; and Jimmy (Kippei Shiina), a bleached-blond pimp-meet at a Tokyo batting range. When, after spending the night together, Bandai and Mitsuya come up with a half-baked plan to rob the office of the Ogoshi, the others are too broke and too desperate not to want in.
Although the robbery is badly botched, the novice masked bandits manage to get away with the money. Jimmy and his hooker girlfriend are packing for a hasty trip to Thailand when the yakuza thugs burst in on them. Soon the two are dead, the identities of the other holdup men are known, and Kyoyo (Takeshi 'Beat' Kitano) and Kazuma (Kazuya Kimura), a pair of yakuza hitmen who also happen to be S&M lovers, are busily tracking down the remaining four. Needless to say, there are Wagnerian death scenes galore.
What makes Gonin so different from its Western counterparts isn't its striking stylism, its sky-high level of violence, its moments of sentimentality, or even its [b]gay content[/b][shock], which brings to the surface an underpinning of the genre that's always been implicit[?]; rather, it's the intense, effusively expressed emotionalism of its characters. There's not a taciturn John Wayne or Clint Eastwood type to be seen here. These guys, from the anti-heroic holdup artists to the yakuza hoods and hitmen out to get them, are boiling over with emotion, and they're anything but timid about showing it.
Takenaka (The Mystery of Rampo, Shall We Dance?) plays the out-of-work businessman Ogiwara as a loose cannon who's teetering on the brink of mental collapse. It's a scenery-masticating performance, but one that matches the film's overheated style. As the failed entrepreneur Bandai and Mitsuya, the amoral hustler with whom he makes an unexpected emotional connection, Sato and Motoki start out suspiciously circling each other and wind up as doomed, star-crossed lovers. Juxtaposed against them are Kitano (the filmmaker/star of Sonatine and Fireworks) and Kimura as the yakuza assassins who celebrate the completion of an assignment with a bout of brutal lovemaking that's bound to raise viewers' eyebrows into their widow's peaks.
Yasushi Sasakibara's stylized cinematography and Hasegawa Keiichi's finely honed editing contribute significantly to Ishii's nightmare vision of a society that's rapidly unraveling. Although it was a major hit in Japan, Gonin's ability to attract American ticket buyers is questionable. Foreign-language genre films are traditionally a hard sell, and this one presents more than the usual challenges. Its chances on video, however, are far more sanguine.