Revisedond

Updoted

"What Boswell was to Johnson, what Gibbon was to ancient Rome,Donald Richie is to the Japanese cinema."

A HUNDRED YEARS OFA ESE

A Concise History, with a Selective Cuide

to DVDs and Videos

DONALD RICHIE

Foreword by Paul Schr ader

KODNSHA INTERNATIONAT

Tokyo . New York . London

Dedicated to the memory of

Kawakita Kashiko

(1gos-rgg3)

Nors: Penonal names re rcmanizedin their original order: family names fint.Still captions list actors left to right.

Distributed in the United States by Kodansha America, Inc., and in the United Kingdom

and continental Europe by Kodansha Europe Ltd.

Published by Kodansha Intemationalltd., 17-14 Otowa l-chome, Bunlryo-ku, Tokyo 112-8652,

and Kodansha America, Inc.

Copyright @ 2001 and2005 by Donald Richie. All rights reserved. Printed inJapan.

ISBN- I 3 : 97 *77 0v2995-9ISBN-l0: L7700-29954

Fint edition, 2001

Revised edition, 2005

05 06 07 08 og 10 tr12 10 g s 7 65 432r

Lib rary of Con gress C atalo gin g- i n- Publication D ata av ailable.

w w w . ko dan s ha- intl. c o m

CONTENTS

Foreword by Paul Schrader 7

Introduction 9

I -A CONCTSE HISTORY OF IAPANESE FTLM

tr Beginnings and the Benshi 17

Film, Theater , andActors 22

Realism and Reality 25

Western Influences 27

Shingeki andNew Narrative Tactics 29

The Gmdnigeki 32

H Taisho Democr acy andshochiku 43

The New Gmdnigeki: Shimazu, Gosho, Shimrzu,Ozu,andNaruse 46

The New Jidaigeki: Itami, Inagal<t, Ito, andYamanakasadao 64

Nik'katsu and the Shimpa: Mizoguchi Kenji 77

Expressionism, Kinugasa Teinosuke, and the Leftist Film 84

Criticism andCrackdown: World War II 96

E The Occupation of Japan 107

Postwar Developments 1 15

Ozu and Naruse 119

Mizoguchi and the Period-Film 129

New Means:Jun-bungaku,, Comedy, and Social Issues L34

tr The Advent of Television and the Film's Defenses: Suzuki, Nak ahta,Kawashima,

and Imamura 177

The Early Independents: Hani and Teshigahara I92

The "New Wave": 0shima, Yoshi da, andshinoda 196

After the Wave 208

tr Making Audiences 213

The New Independents 216

Documentary and Anime 247

Conclusion 259

II-A SELECTIVE GUIDE TO DVDS AND VIDEOS

Introduction 263

Listings 265

Japanese Historical Periods 293

Notes 294

Glossary 300

Bibliography 303

Index 306

Do\(/o

ver the last forf,v years Donald Richie has

written and rewritten not only the history of Japanese filn but also a history of critical

methodology. Whatever we in the West know about Japanese film, and how we latow it, we

rnost likely owe to Donald Richie.

He arrived in Japan in January I)47 as a civilian staff writer for the Pactfic Stars ar'td

Stripes. His initial motivation was "more to get out of Lima lOhio] than to go to Tokyo," but

he was s00n gravitating towardJapanese cultuls-si11ema in particular-and writing film

reviews for the PJ5'. It was an extraordinary time to be an funerican civilian inJapan Richie

made the most of it, and it made the most of Donald Richie.

His studies of Japanese filrn began in 1959 with The Japa?xese Film; Art and Industry,

which he coauthored with Joseph fuiderson. For me, a film student, it was a seminal instruc-

tive work. As with Borde and Chaumeton's Panorama du Fi,lm IVoir Americafl, & door

opened to aworld of fascinating roours. Richie's first history used a humanistic model: the

filrl director struggling to be an individual while, at the sane tine, moving toward what was

presutlted to be the realistic norm. ("Realistic" or "representational," as opposed to "presen-

tational"-vcritical distinction centraltoJapanese aesthetics as well as to Richie's writing.)

Tlre arn azing-absolutely uniqus-n2[ure of Richie's accornplishrnent is that he has

not simply updated his history (like most other film historians) by appending new chapters

every decade 0r s0. Instead, in every later work he has chosen to approach his subject frorn

another angle, rescreening the filrns and rethinking his assumptions, acknowledging that as

history evolves so does the historian and his methodologies.

Riclrie, writing alone, published his second history, Japanese Cinema; Film Stltle ancl

IVational Charactcr, in 1971. This volume emphasized a cultural point of view: the struggle

of Japanese fihnmakers to be Japanese in a non-indigenous medium, It also subscribed to

the critical Zeitgeist of the time-2x[gurism, the notion that the director is responsible for

everything that appears 0n screeu. Nso, at this time, Richie wrote the initi al andstill defini-

tive book on Kurosawa and Ozu.

The third of his histories, Japanese Cinenta; An Introductiort (1990), turned its atten-

tion to how filrns were actually made: the rnultitude of practical considerations that define a

single filrn and its contemporaries: politics, economics, morality, intermedia competitiol,

teclrnological advances, persolt ality conflicts. To achieve this , A?'t Introcluction ernphas ized

reporting over theory.

In this new book, A Hundred Years of Japanese Ff,lm, Richie relies even less on theory.

He has refined atrd amplified the approach of the 1990 volume, retained his sensitivity to the

actual circumstances of fihn production (something filmrnakeffi consider important but his-

torians often overlook), renounced his previous methodologies and proposed a new or're, one

whiclr seeks to oppose then reconcile the unclnsidered assumption of a native Japanese

accent and the demands of a cinematic lingu a ftanca. He desires to show the interweave of

fihlmaking (the contributions of directors, writen, cinematographers, actors, composers, art

directors, as well as financiers). Decline -and-fall modalities are found too sirnplistic, as is the

infancy-maturity rnodel. Film's unspoken asslunptions, the hows and whys of fihnmaking,

the laws of supply and demand-these are now central concems.

Fascinating issues arise: Japanese assulnptions abor-rt "realisrn," the growing respecta-

bility of the "representational," the merging of high and low cnltures, the evolution of the

getlre, as well as the demise of the period-film and the emergence of the dominant contem-

porary theme, in Ozu as elsewhere, of the failing family.

Stepping ashore in 1947, Donald Richie, the Cornrnodore Perry of Japanese filrl history,

was given a unique opportunity. Still in Tokyo more than half a century later, he has-inresponse as it were-given film historians a rlodel of the modern critic: a llan of restless,

evolving intellect.

Pcrul Schradu

NoUDCN C

I r 1895, when film was first seen in Ja;tan, a

fifff-year-old member of this initial rnovie audience would have been boru into a feudal

world where the shogun, dairnyo, and samurai ruled. He could not have left his archipelago

or, if he did, he could not have returned upon pain of death. His manner of dress and way of

speech were regulated by his status, and his ignorance of the outside world was general. It

was still the epoch of the Tokugawa clan which ruled Japan from 1500 through 1867,

encompassing much of what we now know as the Edo period.

During the ensuing period, the Meij t era (1868-1912), this kimono -clad viewer would

not only have seen the Meiji Restoration (when the sixteen-year-old ernperor was brought

from Kyoto to Edo-now Tolryo-to become the nominal head of the new government),

but also the Meiji "Enlightenrnent."

Here, under the slogan "A Rich Country and a Strong Military" (Fukoku lg,ohei), he

would have seen the abolition of the feudal socioeconomic system under which he had

grown up, the adoption of rnodern (Western) production methods, and universal conscrip-

tion. Under another of the many colorful slogans of the period, "Civthzation and Enlighten-

ment" (Bommei lhika), he would have experienced the official urging of Western clothes

and nreat eating, the abolition of sword carrying and chommage (topknots), and eventually

the disbanding of the samurai themselves.

Tlris hypothetical fifty-year-old would have also witnessed the forced adoption of the

Western (Gregorian) calendar, the emergence of a nationwide public school system, the

inauguration of telephone and postal seruices, and the construction of railways.

fuid through it all, he-now perhaps in a three-piece suit and wearing a bowler hat-would have been told to somehow hold on to his Japaneseness. Yet another slogan indicated

the way: "Japanese Spirit and Westem Culture" (Wa,kon Yosai)-in that order. The national

ineffables of Japan were to illuminate Western materialism. In this nanner, it was hoped,

Japan might avail itself of the ways of the moderu West and, at the same time, retain its

"national entity." It was a difficult task, one whichJapan is still trying to carry out.

When filn cane to Japan, the country had only allowed foreign irnports for a few

decades. The nation's culture-which neans its way of accounting for, of constructing, of

assuming-was still its own. Whatever early debts were owed to China and Korea, they had

long been canceled by an appropriation which rendered their influence "Ja;tanese." The

nontraditional, the nodern, the Western, wffi not even half a century old. The traditional,

though eroding swiftly, was still centuries deep.

Irr Japan, fihn arrived as acomnercial product. Though it might eventually be illuminated

by native ineffables, proving that fihn was a uniquely nation aI art was not aJapanese issue.

Norwas there a need to discoverparudigms-to trace apathfrom simple to complex, fronr

infancy to maturity and beyond. Indeed, it was not necessary to treat film history as destined

to fill any of the various categories of an aesthetic system.

In time, however, a need to account for a ceftainJapanese tradition in Japanese films

developed, a need which still remains. And though "Japaneseness" is not a concept which

ever much interested the Japanese filmmaker (though it has occasionally fascinated the

Japanese politician), filmmakers remain Japanese, and the international language of fihn is

even now locally spoken with anat:e accent. As director Ozu Yasujiro once put it: "We are

Japanese, so we should makeJapanese things."

Histories of the Japanese film (both in Western langllages and in Japanese itselfl have

most often chosen a t,olksgeist theory where the culturally specific can be used as a vehicle

for histo rical reorienting and aesthetic inquiry, and where the uniqueness of the Japanese

filnr may be insisted upon. In actuality, however, therearcmore similarities than differences

among the fihns of Europe and America, and those of Japan Though each country creates

a natronal cinem a (and hence a nattonal cinematic style), it is only through the most

common, pragm atic, and universal of means. A film history is a search for a way through

wlrich narrative can be presented more efficiently.

Conventionally, the histornn is given several choices. He or she can arrange the ntaterial

to fornr a kind of narrative, one which stretches from primitive beginnings toward sornething

like present perfection. 0r, another ploy, the events can be arcanged to assume a familiar

pattern-birth, maturity, decline. 0r, again, the historian nay postulate as prinary acoun-

try's culture and character. The rnethod adopted here is more eclectic and less concerned

with any single theory. It follows the rnechanics of cause and effect and it believes, along

10

witlr Alexis de Tocqueville, that "history is a gallery of pictures in which there are few

originals and nany copies."

Further, this narrative insists upon the importance of irnportation. While all countries

incorporate culture from elsewhere-the process is called "progrest"-Japan does so with a

certain finality. Any definition of Japarrese style has to face the fact that rnost Japanes e are

usually unable to lrandle anything without swiftly nationalizingit. 0r, perhaps better put,

the Japanese have a particular genius for assimilation and incorporation. Thus any influ-

ence-be it gagaku, court dancing from medieval Korea, punk rock from modern fuirerica,

the narrative patternings of European sophisticate Ernst Lubitsch, or the made-in-U.S.A. atti-

tudes of QuentinTarantino-is swallowed, digested, and turned into somethillg sometimes

riclr, often strange, and always "Japanese." Nl of these choices, moreover, are purposeful:

identity is, in the process, more constructed than discovered.

In Japanese cinema, there was thus no Japanese essence awaiting liberation by a few

individual directors. Nor was astorytelling narrative there frorn the first. This rose from the

rreeds, often commercial, to regulanzeproduction. The storytelling cinema was not so muclr

the result of cinernatic discoveries as that of aconsolidation of techniques, nany of thern

old, some of them new, all of them depending upon circumstances. Narrative rose from regu-

Iarization ; style from standard ization.

The enormous if rapidly shrinking weight of the traditional certainly infonls Japanese

culture, but so does the mass of all its imports. Balancing all this, not succumbing entirely to

uolksgezsl theory 0n one hand, nor, on the other, completely subscribing to the effects of

foreign influences, is the task of the historian.

One of the ways in which l have attempted to identify the demands of an assumed native cul-

ture is by presupposing a polarity between what I identify as apresentational ethos, which I

find more in Asia than in the West, and a representational ethos, which I find more in the

West than in Asia.

The representational intends to do just that, represent: It is realist and assumes that

"reality" itself is being shown. The presentational, on the other hand, presents. This it does

through various sfi/izations, with no assumption that raw realiry is being displayed. The

West is farniliar with some of these stylizations (irnpressionisrn/expressionisrn), and the

Japanese cinema will introduce us to more. Film "realisn" is itself, to be sure, just one sfyli-

zation among nany, but its position is in the West privileged. It is not so traditionally privi-

leged in the East. fuid, though l believe my gene ralization is largely true, we can still think of

presentational European and American films, and representationalJapanese ones.

My use of this presentational-representational axis is not original. It is a concept familiar

to rnany historians of the Japanese film. I am, however, perhaps alone in so stressing it.

Though it remains a scherna, it is a powerful one, because through it one can discover a

basic assumption governing the shape of the Japanese fihn. It provides a base upon which to

build

The idea of presentation also welcomes an expanding tradition. Japanese tradition now

includes much that was originally foreign. Ozu made )nr Gang his 0m, and group-

nrinded Japanese descendants have become the attractive gangs of rascals in the fihns of

Kitano "Beat" Takeshi and others of his generation. At the sane time, presentation as a

dominant assumption makes possible the creation of individual directorial styles. This is true

in all cinema; the gestural canlera in Mizoguchi Kenji and Max Ophtils, the precision of

detail in Kuros awa and Hitchcock, the narrowly selective realisn of Ozu and Robert Bresson.

One night say that a rcpresentational ethos results rn aless individual style.

This said, one must also add that commercial film is a collective effort, and tracing

responsibilities is not all that easy. The auteur theory conventionally assigns such responsi-

bility to the director himself, under the assumption that the captain is respottsible for the

slrip. However, contributions to afinished film arevanous, perhaps particularly in Japan,

wlrere harmonious contribution is encou raged and single-minded determittation is uot. In

this work I may not have entirely solved the many problems of attribution but, at least, I

have indicated some of those-producers, writen, photographen, art directors, actors-who

have contributed. In so doing, I hope to have ernphasizedsomething about the nature of this

joint product.

fuiyone attempting a history of.Japanese film is at something of a disadvanlage in that so

little Japanese film is left. Even in a world medium where two-thirds of all silent cinena is

lost and perhaps a quarter of all sound films as well, the destruction of the Japanese cinema

is extraordinary. Except for a few known titles, there is little ftrlly extant from the period of

I89l to 1917 andonly sornewhat rnore from 1918 to 1945. The 1923 earthquake, tl-rc 1945

fire-bombing of the rnajor cities, the poslwar Allied Occupation torching of banned films,

and the later indifference of the industry itself have meant the destruction of ninety percent

of allJapanese films made before 1945. I lrave noted such missing films in the text with the

designation "n.s." (not surviving) .

Tlrere is now a large amount of scholarly work on the Japauese film. Since one of nty

aims in writing this llew account is to acconmodate film students, I have puryosely availed

myself of it, calling attention in the bibliography to its availability, For the same reason I

have cornpiled a guide to English-subtitled film on DVD and videocassette to assist both

teacher and student, as well as the interested reader.

t2

Finally, in writing this book I am grateful, as always, to the KawalttaFoundation, the

JapanFoundation, and the National Film Center, and to their generosity in allowing screen-

ings and lending stills. I want to acknowledge my debt to the \ate Earle Ernst who first intro-

duced me to the presentationaVrcpresentationalparadigm which has become central to this

book. I am as well indebted to David Borwell, Arthur Nolletti, Keiko McDonald, and Mark

Schilling, aII of whom took time to read the manuscript andmake suggestions; to the input

of Aaron Gerow; to Paul Schrader, who not only read the manuscript but wrote the foreword;

and to my Kodansha editon, Barry Lancet, UchiyamaMichiko , andCathy Layne.

Donald Richie

\ i t \l 13

"One need only compare American, French, and German films

to see how greatly nuances of shading and coloration c nvary

in motion pictures. In the photographic image itself, to say

nothing of the acting and the script, there somehow emerge

differences in natio nal character. "

TanizahJun'ichiro , In Praise of Shadnus (1933) Qn'ei rAisAn,

translated by Thomas J. Harper and Edward G. Seidensticker,

rg77)

BECINNINCS AND THE BENSHI

f ilm began in Japan, as in most countries, during the last few years of the nineteenth cen-

I tury. The Cin lmatographe Lumidre made its Osaka debut in 1897. Within weels, Thomas

Edison's Vitascope was also seen there and, shortly afterthat, in Tokyo as well. In the same

yeff tlre fint motion-picture camerawas imported by photographer Asano Shiro of the Koni-

shi Camera Shop, and he was shortly shooting street scenes around the capital. At nearly the

same time the Mitsukoshi Department Store formed a photography department and its

cameranen, Shibata Tsunekichi and Shirai Kanzo, began taking shots of the Ginza and of

geisha.

By early 1899, Asano had turned to geisha as well, capturing a series of dances. Komada

Koyo, also originally with the Konishi Carnera Shop and soon to be one of the leading bmshi

(silent-film narrators) ,later remembered the trouble they hadwith the focus andwith keep-

ing the dancers within the sight-lines they had drawn 0n the floor. Nonetheless, after much

struggle, they finally produce d aJapanese motion picture.

Geisha were chosen as subjects not because they were quintessentially Japanese but

because their appealwas s0 strong. Asano and Kornadahadboth noticed that among the

various popular photographic postcards their stores sold, those of geisha outsold any other.

Geisha were therefore a commodity popular enough to wanant the necessary cinematic

outlay.

By the rniddle of 1899, Komada had acquired enough capital to leave the camera store

and form the ksociation of Japanese Motion Pictures. This organrzation now sponsore d an

entire program of such geisha dances, all newly filmed, all in focus, at the Tokyo Kabu\t-za,

and the event was well attended even at the inflated admission prices common to that venue.

Thus inspired, other camera-wielding businessmen began producing their own programs.

Slribata, at the request of a local dramalic troupe, filmed a scene from one of its plays,

Armed Robber: Shimizu Sadakichi (Pisutoru Goto Shimizu Sadakichi, 1899, n.s.) , and

17

later in the year he approached kabuki itself and fihned excerpts frorn Maple Vieuling

(Monrij tgan, 1899) and IVinin Dojoji (Two People at Dojo Temple, n.s.). The latter was

tinted (anotherJapanfirst) by the Yoshizawa Company, later one of the first fihn production

companies.

Maple Viewing, 1 899, Shibata

Tsunekichi, with 0noe Kiku-goro V, lchikawa Danjuro lX

Originally, the leading kabuki actor Ichikawa Danjuro IX was ag inst the idea of rnotion

pictures, dismissing them as (apparently unlike kabuki) merely vulgar Amllselnent. In f.act,

kabuki 26[e6-though not Danjuro hirnself-had already appeared before the Lumidre

caneranen when they visited Japan, but this apparent contradiction was acceptable since

those performances were for export. However, Danjuro was eventually won over by the argLl-

nrent that his appe arance would be a gift for posterity.

Consequently, joined by Onoe Kikugoro V, Danjuro went through three short scenes for

the camera. Shibata had decided to shoot rn asrnall outdoor stage reserved for tea parties

behind the Kabul<t-za, but that morning there was astrong wind. Stagehands had to hold the

backdrop, and the wind carried away one of the fans Danjuro was tossing. Reshooting was

out of the question, and so the mistake stayed in the picture. Later, Shibata remembered that

some viewers remarked that the accident gave the piece acertain charm. As one of the earli-

est Japanese fihns to survive , Maple Vieu,ing can still be appreciated today, with the "flying

f.an" scene intact.

In the same year, the active Komada appeared at the Kinkikafr, zsrnall theater in Tokyo's

Kanda district where Vitascope prerniered. Dressed in formal evening wear and carrying a

silver-headed cane, he greeted his guests and began explaining what they were seeing-in

tlris case, a series of funertcanVitascope shorts.

Although this benshi lecturer-commentator had his counteryarts in most early cinemas,

the role was retained longer inJapanthan elsewhere. The need for alive narrator had faded

in the United States by 1910, but inJapan the benshi survived well into the era of sound, and

ltl

was not really challenged until 1932. Eventually, the profession was done in by the enormous

popular success ofJosef von Sternberg's early talkie, Morocco (1930).

The reasons for the long life of the benshi were various. Since Japan had only some forty

years before been "opened up to the West" (a phrase invented in the West), ignorance of

much of the outside world was conrnon. The benshi filled in the gaps of knowledge Western

viewers hadacquired long before. They were "a reassuring native presence with a presumed

acquaintance of the foreign object," a necessity which might even now "explain theJapanese

affection for teachers, tour guides, sommeliers, and other conduits for the acquisition of new

experience."l

In addition to his educ ational role, the benshi was essential to the film-viewing experi-

ence. In part, this was because the early cinem a of Japan wff, as elsewhere, a cinem a of

slrort, often unrelated clips-initially fihns from abroad: in the Lumidre collection, orle saw

babies being fed, gardeners being squirted, and s0 0n. A commentary connecting these clips

not only made a short progran longer but more coherent. Later, when longer programs

becanre available, story links were created by the benshi. Still later came the illusion of a

self-contained story-world. Until then, the benshi was all that these little glirnpses had in

colnlnolt.

The benshi was also required to fill the time. This he accomplished in various ways.

Besides talking, he sometimes lengthened the viewing tirne. Many films were quite short, and

s0 a number were shown 0n a single bill. Sometimes, as was common in early showings in

Frartce and the tinited States, films were repeated. Since the audience had not yet developed

wlrat lras been called a"linear response," n0 one minded a second viewing as it gave olte a

chance to catch new things the second time around.

In recalling the films he had seen around 1898, as achild of about ten, novelist Tanizaki

Jun'ichiro said: "The ends of the reel would be joined together so that the same scene could

be projected over and over,l can still remember, endlessly repeated, high waves rolling in on

a shore somewhere, breaking and then rcceding, and a lone dog playing there, now pursu-

ing, now being pursued by the retreating and advancing waters." l

Another example of the need for length occurred during the initialJapanese showing 0f

tlre Edison film, The Maj, Irutin]ohn Rice Kiss (1895). Though the film was seen by Western

spectaton but once, inJapan, with the ends joined together,John approached May and kissed

her some dozen times. This repetition had consequences. Suspicious police appeared, but the

quick-minded conmentator-one Ueda Hoteikan- expl ained thatWesterners custom ari ly

greeted each other with a ftrll-rnouth kiss and that the ladies and gentlemen of the audience

ought to be edified by this docume ntary footage of what in Arnerica was an everyday courtesy.

The technique of repetition has aproperJapanese name, tasuke (continuous loop), and

its use remains common 0n Japanese television and in the movie theaters, where advertising

(l

I-r--L-'

I9

clips are repeated several times. The aim now is not to make a short program longer, but the

argument holds that anything short rray be twice savored. After all, repetition seemingly for

its own sake is so accepted an element inJapanese drantaturgy that its cinematic equivalent

seenrs quite uatural. Perhaps those Western viewers who, even during aMizoguchi Kenji or

an Ozu Yasujiro film, sigh and hope the director will soon get on with it are responding to

this tradition of repetition.

The benshi mostly filled in the time with lengthy explanations, l time-consurning

rhetoric, and drawn-out, often moralizing conclusions. It was the benshi who created the

narrative for the audience to follow, and even today, wheu the narrator's performance has

been reduced to a more or less scholarly reconstruction, a plethora of explanations, repeti-

tions of information, and voice-overs remains in Japanese commercial film. This was what

the uninformed audieuce required and conseqLlently wartted. "What to filmgoers in the West

nriglrt seem an overdetermined, annoying repetition was for Japanese audiences constitutive

of meaning." i

From the Western perspective, it could be said that the benshi delayed the cinerttatic

development of narrativeinJapan. However, this line of thought is valid only if one believes

that tlre development of narrative was a "natural" development of the film and that there

were no otheL alternatives. Actually , uJapanese film itself indicates, there were.

In the West, cinema was evolving into a self-sufficient narcative. It seemed the rlost prac-

tical and efficient way to entertain increasingly sophisticated audiences. A series of short clips

gave way to lengthier, lltore coherent stories. The audience's involvement iu more detailed

stories increased attend ance.lt was thus possible to find in the narrative film the tnost suit-

able cinerratic form if the industry required films to be quickty and che aply made.

In Japan, however, the perception of narrative was different. It was the benshi and not

any self-contained cinematic narrative which made sense to the audiettce. He not only

explained what was being shown on the screen but also was there "to reinforce, interpret,

counterpoint, and in any case to intercede." *

The role of the benshi was avery traditional one. From the earliest times, Japanese drama

lrad required an informing voice. The chorus in noh drarna, the joruri chanter in bunraku

puppet drama, the gidrtl'Lt, naffator itt kabuki-all premodern Japanese theater is a pictor-

ial expansion of verbal storytelling. Joseph fuiderson has indeed defined theJapanese drama

as apresentation "in which actors do not autonomously enactevents for spectators; dialogue

spoken by actors is not the primary speech mod ality; and basic plot structure is not based on

conflict, crisis, climax, r'esolution, and dramatic unity." 5

Rather than being presented as an occurrence, drama is presented as a recoultted occur-

rence. Although many national dramas have entertained like assumptiotts, the Japanese

theater (and its descendents, movies and television) has remained remarkably faithful to the

20

authoritativevoice. As one early critic expressed it, the fihn itself was like the bunraku puppet

and the benshi was the gidayu reciter.

Initially, the benshi merely told the story before the performance-the setsurnei (surn-

ming Llp), 0r an explanation provided before the fact. Soon, however, he was telling the story

during the screening itself. In those fiLst yeaffi, the irnages had been sornetimes accompanied

by the actors (if available) who voiced their lines behind the screen. Hence the narne of

this teclrnique-tr agezerifu ("shadow dialogue"). Such presentations were somewhat like

anotlrer early cinematic fonn called rmsageki (joined drama), where scenes from aplay

witlr real actors were interspersed with filmed scenes, the actors stationed behind the screen

to voice their roles. Eventually, the benshi assumed all the lines. To do so, he often resorted

to using avariety of voices. This technique, which was an earlier method taken over from the

puppet dranta, was called koutairo ("voice coloring").

A suliving outline of atypical stage-inspired film, The Golden Demon (Konjiki yasha,

1912, n.s.), suggests how this worked. This fihn version of the stage adaptation of }zaki

Koyo's popular novel became a vehicle for Tsuchiya Shoju, a benshi noted for his mastery of

"seven separate and distinct voices." This scene of an argument requires three voices:

Koutairo (for the heroine, Omiya):

Koutairo (for the hero, Kanichi):

IVaruator (the benshi voice):

If I nrarry Torniya,what will you say?

Tlren you're all set to marry him! What a fickle flirt

you are!

Kanichi, overcome with :'age, kicls the fragile

0miya

The rnany-voiced benshi also developed avocabulary of styles. The historical film was

tlrouglrt to demand an inflated, somewhat nual delivery; fihns about nodern life were more

colloquial, and the tone for foreign films was sententious and didactic.

When the vocal demands were too great, benshi often shared films, just as bunraku

sometimes switches gidayu narrators in mid-play. There were also benshi "contests," which

drew spectaton attracted to particular benshi rather than to the film itself. Benshi even made

recordings, which sold well and were listeneC to without the accompaniment of fihn. One of

the later benshi constantly rendered his big hit, Robert Wiene'sThe Cabinet of Doctor Cali-

gari (1919), on the stage, butwithout the film; he even made a 78-rpm recording 0f part of

it that sold quite well.

The benshi were employed in many other ways. One of their nurnber, for exarnple, solved

a serious censorship problem. This concernedaFrench Path6, feature, La Fin du Rdgne de

Louis Xyl-Rduolution Frangaise (ca. 1907, n.s.), a film considered incendiary sinceJapan

had proclaimed its own ruler to be of divine descent. "0n the day before it was to be shown,

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tlre French film was withdrawn as arnenace to public peace." In its place appearcd another

film, TIte Cat,e Kng: A Curions Storl, of IVorth Americcr (Hokubei kiden: Gankutsuo, 1!08,

n.s.). This was in fact the same film, only now Louis XVI was the "leader of a robber barld,"

and tlre rabble storming the Bastille became "abandof citizens loyally joining the police to

suppress the outlaws, all this action takingplace in the Rocky Mountains."T

The benshi affected the growth and development of theJapanese cinemain other ways.

His preference tended toward simple stories-the better to exhibit his 0m talents. No narra-

tive function other than his own was welcomed. Given his skills, he also preferred that each

scene be alittle drama, amise-sn-scdne. With the benshi present, there was n0 need to con-

struct the illusion of a scene-to-scene development, since he himself provided the necessary

narrative. He was in this way much like his theatrical predecessors.

The influence of the benshi continues even today. Joseph fuiderson renenbers listening

to a modern Japanese television soap opera from another r00m in the house and discovering

that "voice-over narration not only recaps previous episodes but every so often talks about

tlrings that are happening right now on the tube. I don't have to look at this television

drana.l hear it."8

FILM, THEATER, AND ACTORS

Th, Japanese audience perceived film as a new form of theater and not (as in, say, the

I United States) a new form of photography. It is not surprising then that nearly all of the

earlyJapanese story films were in some manner or other taken from the stage. Though this is

no longer true, theJapanese film audience still behaves much as it does at the theater. Like

tlre audience of the latter, the moviegoer takes his seat at the beginning of the session. Film-

viewing is not seen as acircular entertainment that one rray enter and leave at will. Rather,

it has its own narrative rules, and these are to be respected. Mernbers of the Japanese audi-

ence rarely leave the theater during the projection and often remain seated until all the

credits have been viewed and the lights g0 up. For whatever reason, the film is watched in

silence, in marked contrast to film-viewing habits elsewhere, but much in keeping with Westem

theater- goin g behavior.

The subjects of the early Japanese cinema were equally theatrical-scenes from kabuki

classics or sections of shimpn These two genres were thought of as separate. Kabuki was "old

school" (kyuha) and shimpa (which had fint appeared around 1890) was the "new" (shin)

"school" (ha).

This \atter drama was originally designed as a lypically Meiji-era compromise. It was

written for a rapidly modernizing Japanwhich had thrown off feudal rule. The language was

colloquial, the topic was largely concerned with the contemporary scene , and the perfor-

22

mance was ^cted

out not through the strictly stylized rnovements of kabuki but through

movement thought closer to life itself. Still, shimpa retained many kabuki accoutemrents,

including males in female roles.

It was this distinction between old and new school that shaped the forms taken by the

nascent cinema: kabuki-based films became jidaigeki (more common|y, jiclnimono) , a

rubric which now defines all period-filrns; and the shirnpa-based pictures were the begin-

nings of gmdnigeki, or contenporary films.

Kabuki-based movies continued to be constructed of various snippef5-5gsnes abstracted

from popular stories long part of the collective consciousness-but adaptations from the

nore dranatic shirlpa provided astronger narrative and thus generated longer fihns. Yet both

kyuha and shimpa were constructed, photographed, and presented in much the same way.

Not only was the nanator present, but there were also lyama (male actresses) in place of

wornen, and the film itself was usually cornprised of ftrll-frontal, long-running stagelike shots.

Wlren Konishi Ryo shot the first film version of the kabuki classic Chushingura (The

Loyal Forty-Seven Ronin, 1907, n.s.)-an extrernely popular subject, with over eighty-five

film versions to date-the camera was fixed at aspot about thirty feet away and, since the

filnrwasintendedtobe justlike ap\ay,theviewwasstrictlyfrontal.Thenwasevenacurtain

between scenes.

The film frame was commonly considered the equivalent of the theatrical proscenium.

Regarding his My Sin (Onoga tsumi, aka One's Own Sin, 190!, n,s.), the first shirnpa scrcen

adaptatiou, carnerarnan-director Chiba Kichizo recalled that he erected poles on the beach

and strungacurtain between them. The curtain could be raised to reveal the dramataking

place. This dramaturgy "indicated the direction earlyJapanese cinema took it captured stage

action as apicture, rather than as amoving image."e

Though many films from other countries were still constructed of extended long-shots,

early Westem directors were finding new ways to direct the viewer's attention within this

frame. They integrated shorter scenes with the camera set closer to delineate the action, and

close-ups to call attention to characters. None of this occurred inJapan, however, because of

tlre pervasive theatrical infl uence.

Early Japanese filmmakers clung to the idea of the film frame as stage. 0n the stage

itself, audience attention was directed by the dialogue, a convention which continued with

benshi-dominated cinema. But as the benshi's voice was divorced from the actor on the

screen, it was sometimes difficult to see just whom among those distant flickering figures was

doing the talking.

One neans of effectively directing attention was to focus on aprivileged person: the hero

or heroine. Spectators could follow a story shot at a considerable distance if they had some-

one to follow about. Stars became necessary, andwere s00ll created.

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Among the earliest stars was aprovincial actor,Onoe Matsunosuke. He was discovered by

Makino Shozo, a former kabuki-troupe m n ger and, it was later said, the first person to

deserve the title of director in the Western sense of the word. 0n0e, who had met Yokota

Einosuke (head of the company which later became the Nikkatsu motion picture company),

began acting in kyuha films featurin g tachimautari (kabuki-style sword-fighting). Makino,

impressed by 0n0e's ability to handle the physical rigors of his trade, made the actor the star

of Goban Tadanobu (1909, n.s.). 0noe becarne s0 popular that by the time he died in

1926 he had made hundreds of films, many based on kabuki stories, such as lris popr-rlar

Sukwoku (1914, n.s.).

Sukeroku,1914, Makino Shozo, with Onoe Matsunosuke

Despite the competition of the new shimpa product, these kabuki-based kyuha rernained

popular for decades to come: nearly six thousand jidaigeki were made between 1908 and

1945, andtheir descendants still grace the tube. The audience for asword-wielding starwas

large. It is said that during 0n0e's period of greatest fame, when Japanese schoolboys were

asked to name the greatest man in Japan, they always named hirn second. (The emperor

wffi, of course, first; third was one of the reigning benshi.)

Onoe has said that during this period of early filmrnaking, neither actors nor directors

used a script. Instead, Makino carried the plot in his head and ca\Ied out the lines for the

actors while they were 0n camera, just like the joruri chanter in bunraku. Onoe also recalled

what hard work it was. He was required to make nine 0r more features a month, which

meant that he was working on three separate features at any one time. Sometimes, he said,

he was so exhausted thathe mixed up his parts. And, indeed, overworked, he died on the set.

Seen today, these Makino-Onoe films indicate how necessary such acentral figure was to

the audience's understanding. Even in an inferior print (and by any standard , a\l extant

24 ii i: \l i

prints are inferior), the star is always plainly visible. So, t00, even when the film is projectedat

the wrong speed (nost of 0noe's films were undercranked in order to save on film), his ath-

letic vitaliff is apparent. He alone comprised the narrative upou which the benshi commented.

At the same time that Makino's films werc beconing star-based attractiolts, solnething

similar was occurring in the West, though for different reasons. In an effort to create stars (in

tlris case, to win respectability and raise ticket prices), both the Fren ch film d'art (Sarah

Bernhardt, among others, like kabuki actor Ichikawa Danjuro before her, having been

induced to allow selected stage scenes to be filmed for posterity) and, in Anerica, Adolph

Zukor's self-explanatory "Famous Players in Famous Plays" were introduced.

These static stage presentations, one scene sedately followittg another, may have brought

a better class of people into the theaters in the West, but Japan did not have to worry about

respectability. Film was by now an artpopular with all classes, n0 matter what their income.

Indeed, the Crown Prince was induced to attend an early film showing andlater the Entperor

Meiji hirnself was sat down and shown one.

One of the results of the Western films fl'n1[-r67ith all their scenes from famous plays

passing before the viewer-was that they prepared audiences for longer films. By 1910, the

filrn d'art, as well as the Italian epics and some of the longer fuierican movies, set a prece-

dent for length. Longer running tirnes, in turn, required detailed and developed scripts.

ht the West, the energence of scripts led to scenic construction, to early expository inter-

titles, and to greater visual connllnication.Laler, the intertitles werc more commonly devoted

to dialogue, and these eventually evolved into a screenplay, which attempted to sltow as

much as it told.

None of this, however, initially occurred in Japan. Nor was there any reason for it to.

Onoe bounced from scene to scene capturing attention, while the consequences of the slender

narrative were still assumed by the benshi. Whereas the Western script incorporated more

complex stories plus innovations in shooting and editing, theJapanese benshi had no use for

any of this.

Nor need the benshi concern himself with an assumed fidelity to what in the West was

becoming known as cinem atic "rcalism." In Europe and Am enc , this child of photography

was expected to obey the laws of appearance. And since realisrn was aphotographic virtue,

the film became a document. This did not occu r inJapan-for a number of reasons.

REALISM AND REALITY

.fo most Japanese, the Western ideaof "realisrl," particularly in its naturalistic phase, was

I something truly new. All early Japanes e dramatic forrns had assumed the necessity of a

structure created through mediation. The same was true for Japanese culture in general: the

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wilderness was natural only after it had been shaped and presented in apalpable form, as in

theJapanese garden, or flowers were considered living (ikebana) only after having been cut

and arranged for viewing. Life was thus drarnatically lifelike only after having been ex-

plained and cornmented upon. Art and entertainment alike were presentational, that is,

tlrey rendered aysarticular reality by way of an authoritative voice (be it the noh chorus or

the benshi). This approach stood in marked contrast to the representational style of the West

in which one assumed the realiW of what was being shown.

Irrdeed, Japan had no tradition of the common style known as realisrn, the style that

Susan Sontag has defined as "that reductive approach to realiff which is considered realis-

tic."r0 Though Hokusai's sparrows are thought realistic in Japarr, this kind of realism is seen

u partial when contrasted with the clairls of "cinerratic realism" in the West. Thus, what

passes for realistic in Japan, elsewhere is thought highly stylized. These inherent differences

nay also explain why the Japanese were puzzled over what Degas and Monet could have

found so special in ordinary Japanese prints.

The national inclination toward the presentational did not mean that certain realistic

aspects of the moving picture were neglected. It was rather that they were not insisted upon

and that, when included, they appeffed cornprornised (to Western eyes) by a stagey artifi-

ciality. The documentary, with its almost ostentatious lack of presentation and its tacit assump-

tions of representation, became influential in Japan much later than it had in other

countries. Indeed, it was not until the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-05 that newsreels of an

event showed \arge audiences docurnentary footage, thereby preparing the way for a wider

reception of a more representational and less presentational cinema.

Even early newsreels retained an unusual amount of presentation. A tlteater showing

such newsreels had Japanese flags, aband, and a benshi. Komada Koyo's wartime offerings

in Tokyo's Asakusa district in 1905 included high claims of authenticity-every foot of film,

he said, had been shot right where Japanese blood had sanctified the soil. And, in truth, solne

of it was. Yoshizawa Shokai had dispatchedacan"rcra crew to capture sone scenes. Shibata

Tsunekichi and another early cameruman, Fujiwara Kozaburo, were sent to the front.

Authentic material shot by Path6 and the Charles Urban Company was also included.

Still (as was common in the newsreel footage of sone other countries as well), there was

much fake footage added. Though this fakery was detected and reports of derision from the

audience did surface, the Japanese, as a rule, aclarowledged, even enjoyed, the charm and

entertainment value of the falsified newsreels. As has been wisely said: "Originality was never

a ptimary value in Japan. " I I

In the West, on the contrary, faked newsreels caused concern. fui funerican attempt to

cash in on the San Francisco earthquake of 1905 was sternly refused distribution in that

country. This regard for realisn was to lead to acinematic style that was almost ostenta-

26

tiously representational .InJapan, one might say that newsreels were expected to be "fake,"

that is, as presentational as anything else. If early Western newsreels defined, and to an extent

created, narrativefilm in the West, nothing of the sort occurred inJapan until much laher,

Wlren Japan'sfirst war drama,The ChuUt Blossoms of Japan (Yanato zakura, tt.s.), wA

finally filned in 1909, realism was not among its values: Ridge 203 in Port futhur was obvi-

ously the studio lot, and firecrackem were used-kabuki-like-to create the bursts of sntoke

from fired rifles. The realisrn of newsreels was thus turned into nonrealistic theatricality.

In Japanese film, as on tl-rc Japanese stage, actuality was one thing; theatricality was

anotlrer . Armed Robber, based on a scene taken frorn a play which in itself is based 0n "a

real-life happening," was using a standard ploy of the topical bunraku and kabr-rki vehicles

of such early Edo playwrights as Chikamatsu Monzaemon and Tsuruya Namboku. The actu-

aliry of the event might be aselling point, but theatricality, not fidelity, was the goal. Though

a robbery rnay have occurred last month, the scenery, acting style, and lighting would have

come from a century before.

Realisrn as a style concerned with apperances was nevertheless slowly influencing the

enrergin g Japanese film. Wartime newsreels were, in part, responsible for this, as was the

growing importation of Western films. A third reason for change was a new form of theater,

shingeki (literally, "new dtanta"), which was also foreign, consisting as it did of aJapanese

version of Western proscenium theater.

The Japanese audience was now ready for sonething besides shimpa melodrama and

0n0e's kabuki-like cavortings. What in ten years had become the "traditional" Japanese fihn

was losing its audience. Sato Tadao has said thatatthattime, around 1910, itwas "comrnon

knowledge that Japanese films were rubbish compared to foreign films. People who went to

Japanese films were snotty-nosed little kids."rr While the audiences may have included a

grown-up 0r two, the narrative means of these early films were juvenile, or what the foreign

critic would call primitive. Early Japanese fihn thus contained a paradox: It was a new

means of expression, but what it expressed was old.

WESTERN IN FLU ENCES

ft orp ared to the perceived staleness of the Japanese fihn, new films from the West were

Vfreshlless itself. Imported in numbers after IgI5,foreign cinema offered rlew perspectives

to the Japanese moviegoer. Initially, in the 1890s, these films were seen as educational. When

tlre early Japanese audience watched the waves at Deauville rolling toward them, they were

enjoying their first glimpse of the outside world, a thrilling experience to a people for cen-

turies isolated from the world atlarge.

As might be expected, given the audience, the appeal of these early films was at least

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partially didactic: the audience went to be educated as well as entertained. Since Japan,like the

rest of ,{sia, lacks entirely the antipathy for being taught that is so cornmon in the West, these

early films found a ready and enthusiastic following, for whom learning what the French

cavalry looked like and how Fatirna danced were matters of the most lively interest. }zu

Yasujiro recollects how "the [fapanese] rnovies at that time did nothing more than follow the

plot. . . but when an fulerican film, Cit,ilizatiort [1916] by Thomas Ince, was showll . . .

that was when I decided I wanted to be a film director."rl

Though he was speaking of a slightly later period , }zu was obviously impressed by a narrative intricacy different from that of the simple, staticJapanese film. When fuirerican movies

began appearing in greater numbers, ruanyJapanese would have agreed with Ozu, who con-

fessed, "film had a magical hold 0u rne." Now films were not only educative, they also

offered a rrew way of looking at the world.

After Llniversal Pictures opened a Tokyo branch, among the first films to enterJapan was

a rnodest group of hour-long program pictures called Bluebird Photoplays. The series had no

influence 0n filmmaking in the United States, but it certainly left its rnark in Japan. Oue

critic remarked that when a Bluebird film was courpared to aJapanese fihn it was like sud-

denly moving from the early playwrights of the Edo period to the literature of the modern

n atu ral i sts (S h i r nazaki Toson, T ay ana Katai ) .

These "photoplays" had shots of nAture, detemined young heroines, and a dose of senti-

mentality. Though the settings were mainly rural, much of the story found the young people

coping with new urban ways, just like yourlg folk in Japan. In addition, there was a novel

kind of narrative: scenes were not only shorter but shot from various angles, and the cameru

moved in closer. The audience was actually shown what it was expected to see.

In the face of this fresh approach, the benshi changed their habits. For the Bluebird films,

they dropped their didactic ways and turned lyrical. A benshi "script" for the conclusion of a

Bluebird film called Southern Justlce (1917) ends with: "Sta$ strewn across the sky, blossoms

falling like snow on the green eafth. It is Spring-romance is in the South. Spring, ah, Spriug!"

Western fihns were warmly welcomed. In his autobiography, Kurosawa Akira drew up a

list of over one hundred foreign films he had seen between I9I9 (when he was nine) and

1929. Many were Anerican. At the age of eleven, the future director saw Charlie Chaplin's

The Kd (1921); at twelve, D. W. Griffith's )rphans of the Storm (1922); and at thirteen,

Chaplin'sA Womnn of Pari,s (192r. He had begun watching serials even earlier. Favorites

irrcluded William S. Hart inTlte Tiger Mnn (1918). Remembering how impressed he was as

a child, Kurosawa wrote: "What remains in my heart is that reliable manly spirit and the

smell of male sweat,"'a qualities which he was later to reproduce in his own work.

Foreign film was popular not only with the audiences but also with those in the industry

itself. The 1919 showing of D. W. Griffith's Intoluance (1916) was asensation, and many of

28

tlrose who Iater became directors, scripfwriters, 0r cameramen remember attending and

being impressed by this and other foreign-film showings-impressed, often to the point of

imitation. Sato Tadao has listed some later funerican films which have been "repeatedly imi-

tated": Ernst Lubitsch'sThe Marriage Ci,rcle (1924), F. W. Murnau'sSu,nrise (1927), Frank

Borzage's Se?tsnth Heattm (1927), and Frank Capra's Lafit for a Da1, 0933).'5

Among those many professionals attending showings of new foreign films was Makino

Shozo, who had by then discovered there were better ways of making fihns than shouting

directions at Onoe. Indeed, he was the first Japanese director to reahze the importance of

having a scenario.

The first two decades of Japanese fihl history had already passed before scenarios were

used: Makino's original The Lo1t577 Forty-Serten Ronin (1912, n.s.) was shot from a mere

outline, a simple list of the forty-five scenes held in the hand of the director. Now this sarne

director saw that this was not sufficient. His production philosophy, when he got around to

plrrasing it, was: first, the story; second , a clear picture; third, action. This differs from the

director's previous stance, in which getting a picture focused and lit was as important as hav-

ing something to film. The story had not been the first priority. Makino's next version of The

Lo1t677 Fortj,-Seuen Ronin (1917, n.s.), by contrast, had aproper script, matching cuts, and

reframing pans, along with other indications of advanced planning.

Earlier films had often been a procession of postcardlike scenes, 0r an assemblage of bits

from kabuki or shimpa, their continuity assured not by the fihnmaker's skill but by the audi-

ences' familiarity with the basi c narrative. What story there had been was rigidly formed to fit

into the requirements of the benshi. Now, however, something more cornplicated was about

to be discovered. This was a more revealing and hence engaging kind of storytelling, an

ordering which would nake ernotior-r more palpable. Rather than a simple assemblage of

separate scenes, there would be a series of linked scenes- each of which commented on the

otlrer, fonvarded the story, and reve aled cause and effect. In short, this was finally narration

since (in Sontag's words, applicable everywhere) "only that which narrates can tnake us

undemta116l." l6

SHINCEK/ AND NEW NARRATIVE TACTICS

I ust as the shimpa had made possible the beginnings of a more complic ated kind of cine-

Ll nrattcnarrative, so it was that a newer form of.Japanese drama, shingeki-along with

contemporary Western fihns-enabled tl'rcJapanese cinema to further evolve.

Like shirnpa, shingeki, the Japanese version of Western realist theater, was regarded

as reformative. The narratives were those of Ibsen, Chekhov, Gorky , and 0'Neill, and the

rhetoric was that of the European (particularly Russian) proscenium theater, or what was

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2g

understood of it. ffshingeki later became as standardized as shimpa, initially-from 1909

on-it had a greatreforming influence.

Looking at the popularity of the new shingeki on the stage, those in the film industry

decided that a motion picture with a self-contained story along more realistic lines would

win back the former audiences who had been supplanted by "snotty-nosed little kids." One of

the first shingeki adaptations indeed proved popular. Resurrection (Kachusha, 1914, n.s.)

was Hosoyama Kiyomatsu's filming of aportion of a shingeki dramatization of the Tolstoy

story. Itwas "realistig"-2.fleast to the extent thatit used "authentic" Russian costumes-

and, though it used oyama instead of actresses and stuck to other stagey conventions, it

nonetheless impressed many moviegoers. Playwright Akimoto Matsuyo described the picture

as magnificent, adding that he had truly felt whatever it was thal, so agitated the heroine

Katsush a, an emotional response presumably not afforded by priorJapanese films.

Resu rrecti on, 1914, Hosoya ma

Kiyomatsu, with Tachibana Sadajiro,

Sekine Tappatsu

Hosoyama's success encouraged others. Since audiences flocked to both the "foreign"

shingeki as well as Amerrcan and European films, producers were s00n drawing up lists of

popular foreign techniques: short scenes, closer shots, a more thorough narrative, and an

editing process more complic ated than that of pasting one tableau to the next.

A favorite foreign film of the period, the Germ an Gendarme Mdbiu& becam e The Lieu-

tmant's Daughter (Taii n0 musume, I9I7, n.s.) in Inoue Masao's adaptation, which was

quite "Western" in its use of flashbacls and close-ups. Large close-ups were also employed in

the director's Poisoned Hubs (Dokuso, 1917, n.s.), but since these shots were of oyama

rather than actual female actresses, the producers decided that in the future female imper-

sonators would be best appreciated aI a distance.

In all of these experiments, enlarging the audience was a major concern. The nascent

Japanese industry was also looking to export its work. Japan had been the only country to

tlrus far successfully resist the Amencan cinematic invasion. (lndia's film industry had not

30

yet begun, while in France and Italy, production was suffering.) Though foreign influence

was everywhere and its products were well regarded, the Japanese industry itself was slowly

expanding. With a finn home audience that would support a local product if it were suffi-

ciently updated, the Japanese industry saw no reason why it, in turn, could not push into for-

eign markets. This was the idea behind the encouragenent of some of the early conpanies to

produce "Western-style" films.

Such tactics were s0 sllccessftrl that by 1914 the movies had becone a big business in

Japan. As early as 1908, the means to insure steady profits had already been sought. Kawaura

Kenichi of Yoshizawa Shokai (provider of the 1904 footage of the Russo-Japanese War and

the first production company to have an in-house "story departrnent") returned in 190S

fron afact-fiLrding world tour and proceeded to construct in To$o's Meguro Ward a studio

like Edison had in the Bronx and, behind it, a villa like Georges Mdlids's in Paris, an indica-

tion of big-business intentions.

In the same year, Urneya Shokichi decided that exploitation was one of the ways to make

money. fui indication of this surfaced when he forrned his M. Path6 Shokai, borrowing both

name and reputation without Pathd's knowledge 0r permission. In the appellation, Shokichi

also chose to flagrantly ignore the fact that rival Yokota Einosuke's company, the original

irnporter of Cindmatographe Lumidre, wffi the actual importer of Pathd fihns into Japan.

Slrokichi's originality confined itself to the addition of the "M," which he later claimed was

for "distinction. "

The director-producer's costurne spectacular The DAu;rt of the Soga Brothers' Hunlin,q

Grounh (Soga kyodai kariba no akebono, 1908, n.s.) was designed to showcase the attrac-

tiorts of both East and West. The Soga brothers themselves were a staple in kabuki repertoire,

and the fihn starred an unprecedented all-girl kabuki troupe, apparentlv put together for the

occasion. Added, too, were dialogue titles, attempted speech synchronization 0n discs, anda

kind of wide-screeu process. To top things off, the film was shown in alarge theater usually

used for drama, with attractive usherettes, a higher admission price, and all the hype that

such a venture usually demands.

Though the film appears to have been financially successful, there were technical dif-

ficulties as well as the jealous ire of the benshi to contend with. Nso, competition was in-

creasing. There were now four motion picture manufacturers, all trying to turn a profit.

Having heard that similar circumstances of overcrowding had led to the creation of the

Motion Picture Patents Company in the United States-seven companies that formed a ca:

tel and monopolized the entire industry-shokichi now approached his Japanese rivals with

anattractive offer. The resultwas the creation, in 1910, of the GreaterJapanFilm Machinery

Manufacturing Company, Limited, though all such rnachinery was actually being imported

from abroad. Yokota became the director of the new caftel, KobayashiKizaburo became the

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31

head of the business department, and Yoshizawa backed out and sold his shares. Nl told, the

new company owned three studios, including the former Yokota studio in Kyoto, and seventy

pernanent theaters.

In 1912,having rnade his profits, Umeya decided to leave as well, and the larye cartel

changed its unwieldy and inaccurate nalne to Nippon Katsudo Shashin Kabushiki Kaisha

(Japan Cinematograph Company), which was in turn s00ll shortened to Xikkatsu. The three

srraller studios were sold, andalarge llew studio was built in Mukojirna, 0n the east side of

Tokyo. By 1914, the company was producing fourteen fihns a month.

The Mukojima studio initially turned out the expected shirlpa product-one of the resi-

dent oyanawas Kinugasa Teinosuke, later director of both A Pnge )ut of Orderp (Kurutta

ichipej r, aka ACrazy Page/A Page of Madness, 1925) andThe Gate of Hell (Jigoku mon,

I95r.By 1915, the average Nikkatsu fihn was rapidly changing: itwas about forty minutes

long and comprised fifteen to thirty caneruset-ups.

Tenkatsu (Tennenshoku Katsudo; Natural Color Motion Picture Company), a nonmem-

ber film company, run by Kobayashi Kizaburo, was rnaking fihns of the sane length with

some fifry to seventy camera set-ups, some of which utilized Charles Urban's Kinemacolor,

whose rights Kobayashi had acquired. His were, it was thought, the more "lroderu" product.

Nikkatsu and Tenkatsu thus largely controlled the creation and exhibition of Japanese

motion pictures. In 1917 , they overtook foreign companies as the maiu source of income for

a\l Japanese screens. By I)21, Nikkatsu alone owned over half of the six hundred motion

picture theaters in Japan.

Despite novelties from Tenkatsu and othen, Nikkatsu continued to control most of the nar-

ket, For one thing, the theater ownen were satisfied with Nikkatsu's contracts (double bills: one

l+rha fihn, one shirnpa) and, for another, the largerJapanese audience was not all that certain

that it really liked what it had glimpsed of further cinematic innovations in foreign films.

Though this sarne audience had originally embraced the novelty of movies with even

more enthusiasm than that of some other nations, they werc now in phase two of what is per-

haps a peculiarly Japanese pattern of behavior: first an indiscriminate acceptance of a new

idea, then a period of reacti on against it, and finally its complete assimilation, whereby the

idea is transformed and tailored to Japanese tastes.

THE CENDAICEKI

I n t 9l7 , Tenkatsu hired Kaeriyama Norim asa, a man who was to have a decisive influence

I orr tlre development of theJapanese film. In lg13,KaeriyamabeganJapan's first fihn mag-

azirrc. Tlrree years later, he wrote The Production and Photography of Mouing Pictnre

Drama, (Katsudo shashingeki no sosaku to satsueiho), abook in which he roundlycriticized

.12 :

the product of that tirne. Since filrl was a silent medium, he argued, a narration was neces-

sary in order to make the result comprehensible. Yet, if a script could be designed for a purely

cinematic presentation (that is, without benshi) and titles were inserted only where lleces-

szry, fihns would be widely understood by everyone. In his opinion, films that needed off-

screen narration were devoid of any value, nor was the capturing of stage dramas from an

unmoving frontal position what he considered cinema.

In line with his more elevated estirnation of the motion picture, Kaeriyama changed his

terminology. Ihtsudo shashin, which rneans "rnoving photographs" (as in the company's

original name), had already taken on the nuance of "the"flickers." T0 counter this anti-

quated irnage, Kaeriyarna introduced the rnodern term eiga,which is still used today. Itwas

contemp orury sounding and could mean (depending r-rpon how it was read) "descriptive

pictures," "reproduced pictures," "projected pictures," even "atfiaclive pictures."

Believing, like Makino Shozo, in the necessity of a script, he wrote that the scenario was

the foundation of the motion-picture dranta, and tltat the value of this drama depended on

the script. The director would use it to decide the actions of the actors and all other aspects of

tlre film. This made the scenario very different from the text for astage dranta.

Kaeriyarna's dissatisfaction with Japanese film was echoed by Tanizaki Jun'ichiro, al-

ready a well-larown writer, who said, as though in answer, that not only did he enjoy nothing

more than going to see Western films, but that he believed the difference between them and

0troe Matsunosuke's fihns was the difference between the West andJapan.

The Living Corpse,1917 , Tanaka Eizo, with Yamamoto Kaichi, Kinugasa Teinosuke

33

Tantzalt andKaerryama also believed that not only would a good script produce a good

nodern fihn-a gendaigeki which could compete with rivals and thus win a laryer audi-

ence-but that such a product, being self-explanatory, would elirninate the need for benshi.

The idea of winning larger audiences appealed to the producers. Thus, the twenty-four

year-old Kaefiyana convinced Tenkatsu that he and his associates-actor Murata Minoru

and slringeki dranatist Osanai Kaoru---<ould come up with a product that would win audi-

ences both in Japan and abroad. Besides, Nikkatsu-the competition-h ad aheady profi-

tably allowed Tanaka Eizo to make a "Westem-style" picture, Ihe Liuing Corpse (lkeru

slrikabane, 1!17, n.s.), which containedalarger number of shots, some dialogue titles, and

realistic costumes. At the same time, reassuringly, there were oyan)a in the cast (Kinugasa

played the heroine), the benshi talked through the dialogue titles, and shimpa was imposed

over Tolstoy's storyline. It was awinning combination of elernents: a tried-and-true shimpa

formula plus lashings of novelty from abroad.

Kaeriyama's first film wu The Glory of Ltfe (Sei no kagayakr, aka The Glow of Life, n.s.),

released in 1919. It was the story of a country girl (HanayagtHarumi) who falls in love with an

urbatr arrstocrat (Murata Minoru). In a playful rnoment, the girl asks hirn the meaning of

life. He lightly responds that it is to do whatever one likes. When he does just that and aban-

dons her, she attempts to drown herself but is saved. The aristocrat reappears, repents, and

the films ends with the sober statement "Life Is Effort," sllperimposed upou a shot of the dawn

of a new day.

One critic called the novie shirnpa with irnitation Western titles. With its desertions and

beffayals, it was indeed quite shirnpa-like. Still, there was much that was new . Kaefiyama, like

everyone else, had studied the Bluebird Photoplays with their simple, undemtandable struc-

tures. He had his heroine read Ivan Turgenev, while her little brother imitates Charlie Chaplin.

In addition, the whole picture was tinted in the manner of the fashionable Italian product.

Kaeriyam a and his associates added s0 nany new touches that the company became slls-

piciotrs during the shooting. In his defense, Kaeriyarna clanned the pictlrre was something

like an experiment and that he therefore needed room to be creative. Further, he argued, as

he was actually making the picture for export, he needed to cater to the foreign audience's

appreciation for things like editing, short shots, and close-nps. As final justification,

Kaeriyam a explained that he intended to make a statement with the work, which he de-

scribed as"an ambitious attempt to unravel the meaning of life in four t€els."17

The cornpany accepted the argument that the requirements of an overseas audience were

distinct. Then, as now, products made for the foreign market were conceived differently from

products made for local consumption. Kaeriyama's film was thus shown rn atheater special-

izing in foreign pictures, where it experienced a modest success. More importantly, it proved

inspirational to other filmmakers. Yarnamoto Kajiro, later himself a film director (and

34

mentor of Kuros awaAkira), saw it when he was a student. The picture's hyperbolic advertise-

ment had caught his eye: "the first filmlike film made inJapan " Since he had, in fact, never

seen aJapanese film, he decided that this would be a double first. Yamamoto was favorably

impressed. He later wrote: "Japanese dialogue, titles of a modern design; close-ups and nov-

ing carnera work; the actors' faces untouched by elaborute stage make-up; the plain, un-

affected presence of a real woman; and the slightly awkward yet straightforward and sincere

acting-this was a genuine film."r8

The Glory of Life, despite its failure to draw alarye audience, was considered successful

enough that the indr-rstry as a whole, scenting future profit, grew more reform-minded. Even

conservative Nikkatsu, which had by then absorbed Tenkatsu, allowed TanakaF,izo to make

The l9,sy6 Collar Shop (Kyoya eri rlise , 1922, n.s.), which, though traditional in content

and structure, contained some innovation. Reassuringly and decidedly traditional was the

picture's shimpa story: the proprietor of an old business marries his favorite geisha, only to

have his children leave him, while his new wife continues to see a younger lover; in the end,

the old rnan's shop is destroyed by fire. The film was among the last to use oyama in all the

female roles. (Later that year there was a mass walk-out of all the female irnpersonators,

frustrated over the fact that the new directors were not using them,)

The Kyoya Collar Shop, 1922, Tanaka Eizo, with Azuma Takeo, Miyajima Kenichi,Fujino Hideo, Koizumi Kasuke.

Other traditional elements included a four-part structure that emphasized the seasons

(with titles indicating Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter-somewhat haiku-like seasonal

references) and a melodrun'ntic finale (during the fire, the distraught merchant grabs the

geisha's hair, is next shown carrying a bloody swath of it, and then stabs her in the stomach

J--'-

35

with a butcher's larife). Shindo Kaneto, later a director hirlself, long remembered the "sinis-

ter smile fixed on his [the rnerchant's] face."re

fulong the innovations was the attention paid to set design. Kamehara Yoshiaki, the first

real art director in Japanese cinemA, pr'ovided LlnLlsually detailed sets. The entire shop, for

exantple, wffi constructed in the Mukojirna studio, with walls that could be removed to

accommodate the camera. The assistants (including young Mizoguchi Kenji) were all famil-

iar with the latest Western products. Their knowledge combined with the director's sensibili-

ties resulted in a cinematic experience apparently traditional and yet conternporary/ enough

to please all audiences.

In the meantime, some companies had again gone foraging in the West in order to

return with modern methods and people familiar with Hollyvood know-how. Taikatsu hired

"Tlrornas" Kurihara, then just twenty-five years old, and an actor, part of the entourage of

tlre popular matinee idol ,Hayakawa Sessue. With hirn returned "Henry" Kotani and"Jackie"

Abe (later better known as Abe Yutaka), as well as young Tokunaga Bunroku, who had

changed his given nane t0 "Frank."

Taguchi Oson, another Japanese who had studied abroad, returned with rnany ideas for

wlrat lre called rnodern methods. He introducedasystem whereby allJapanese scripts were to

be phonetically transcribed into the Western alphabet, thus rendering them foreign looking.

Tlre actors were never to be shown the script, nor allowed to develop a character-this was

the iob of the director. They were rnerely told to laugh or to cry without being given any hint

of motivation. In addition, what instruction they received was to be indirect. Hertry Kotani,

orre of this group, is famous for having attempted to create f,ear by announcing that a lion

was preparing to pounce, though there was nothing about any such anirlal in the script.

Though anecdotes such as these may indicate cultural rnisapprehension, some of the

methods matched Japanese examples. Except for the biggest nanes, actors are often treated

in just such au Lursympathetic manner. Some of the finest perforrnances in Japanese cinema

were given by the actors working for Ozu Yasujiro, a director who famously used the

Taguchi-Kotani approach. When the actress Sugimura Haruko, weary of endless takes, asked

wlrat lrer motivation was for playing her role in Tokl,o Storl, (195r, the director is supposed

to lrave answered: money-you are getting paid for it.

Taikatsu went on to rnake a number of rlew films, of which nothing remains but a few

stills. One of these filrns, Arncttetn' Club (furachua kurabu, 1920, n.s.), an Auerican-style

cornedy written by the newly appointedTanizakiJnn'ichiro and directed by returnee Tltomas

Kurihara, was about a bunch of young enthusiasts trying to stage a kabuki play by the sea-

side furother wu The Lnsci't,iousness of the \liper (Jasei u0 in, aka The Lust of the White

Seqrent, 1921, n.s.), a Kurihara film, based on the tiedaAkinari story, in which KaeriyamA's

concepts were first seeu in a historical setting. Playing one of the extras was future director

36

Amateur Club,1920, Thomas Kurihara, with Kamiyama Sango (left)

The Lasciviousness of the Viper, 1921, Thomas Kurihara, with Okada Tokihiko (left), Benizawa

Yoko (right)

Uchida Tomu. The sarne story was later used as the basis for Mizoguchi's better known

Ugetsu (Ugetsu monogatari, 1953)

Despite or because of these innovations, Taikatsu ran into such financial difficulties that

only a few years later it merged with the Shochiku Cinema Company, a new conceln which

lrad been organizedby Shirai Matsujiro and Otani Takejiro. Both of these entrepreneurs had

started their careers as peanut vendors (nowadays it would be the popcorn franchise).

37

Slrochiku, akeady an entertainment entity, had its owr kabuki and shimpa troupes, but both

Inelt were eager to enter the film industry. Shirai had returned from a successful overseas

fact-finding trip, and Otani, who had stayed in Japan,watched httolerattce playing to packed

houses at ticket prices higher than those of the bestJapaltese dranta.

The ffio men saw that the old-style Japanese rlovie was probably on its way out and that

sontething new was perhaps coming in. Consequently, the new cinerna anrl of Shochiku

built its own studio. Looking for a place a bit like Southern Califomia, rtsettled on Kanata

in the southern suburbs of Tolryo and adjacent to the Pacific, or at least to Tolqro Bay.

Since the company had to train all of its employees, a Shochiku Cinema Institute was

irtaugurated, and 0sanai Kaoru, one the founders of shingeki, was put in charge. Osanai had

worked with stage director Max Reinhardt and had introduced the Stanislavsky acting

rnetlrod into Ja;;an. His Jiyu Gekijo (Free Theater), named after the ThdAtre Libre and

founded in 1909, lrad staged some critically successful productions but had failed financially,

and its founder was now grateful for movie work.

Cast complete, Shochiku releasedamanifesto which read in part: "The main puryose of

this cornpany will be the production of artistic films resembling the latest and rnost flourish-

ing styles of the Occidental cinema;itwill distribute these both at home andabroad; it will

introduce the true state of our national life to foreign countries. ." r0

Critics corlplained of a perceived Americanization, but such complaints ceased when it

became apparent that Japanese cinern a, far from being assimilated, had itself assimilated a

studio system not only very like that of Hollywood, but also prornising to be just as successful.

fui early Shochiku picture-one of the fewprewarJapanese films thatcan still be seen-was Souls on the Roal (Rojo no reikon, I)21). Its reconstructing from various prints, fol-

lowirrg World War II, was the work of Ushih araYttyohiko, who not only helped write the script

but also played the comic butler. He later became one of Japan's most popular directors.

(furother future director of note, Shirnazu Yasujiro, was listed as lighting director.) The

direction of the picture itself is credited to Murata Minoru, though Osanai (who plays the

uncornpromising father in the picture and is also billed as executive producer) certainly had

a hand in its making. It was he who sometimes spoke of this fihr as the first "realist" picture

in Japan.

As is often the case with such ideas, the concept of filrn realism has evolved over time. In

any event, there is also the peculiarity of what various cultures call "realistic." Today, of

course, the film does not strike the viewer as "realist," but then few 1921 films, regardless of

origin, would. What strikes the contemporary viewer is the eclecticism of influences on the

film and the emotional power which, despite or because of these, the fihn retains.

Souls on the Road was originally viewed as apicture "in the foreign manner," and one

sees why. It is composed of a number of stories, taken from foreign sources, which are then

3t

-l

dr

Sou/s on the Boad, 1921 , Murata Minoru, with Minami Komei, Tsutami Takeo.

reconbined in a style sirnilar to that of profitable Intoluance. The main story, two ex-cons

on tlre road, was culled from the shingeki adaptation of Maxim Gorky's The Lower Depths;

the wastrel son who returns home with wife and child is from a story called "Children of the

Streets" by aonce-popular Gerrnan author named Wilhelm Schmidtbaum; and the pastoral

romance between the daughter of the house and a working-class youth owes much to the

Bluebird Photoplays.

The title that opens and closes the picture is a pious quotation from the Gorky drama:

"W€, as human beings, must have pity for those about us. Christ had this quality and we also

must cultivate it. There is a time for us to express this-this we must watch for." There are

other titles as well: 127 of thern in what was originally a ninety-one-minute film-anextremely high averugq much more in line with the funerrcan than theJapanese pictures of

the time.

The fihn's other influences from abroad include an enactment of that exotic holiday,

Christrnas; the conscious decision to have the daughter (played by the actress Sawamura

Haruko instead of an oyama) dressed to look like, and apparently instructed to act like, Mary

Pickford; plus a plethoruof optical effects, including wipes, fades, dissolves, and irises. There

are also panoramic shots (the camera swiveling), dolly shots (the c meru on wheels), close-

ups, flashbacla, and moments of parallel editing. In its use of these innovations, however,

the film's discourse reveals its local accent.

Earlier films had given many indications that Japan's use of Western techniques was

going to be different. Japan's fint pan shot, said to have occurred in the previously men-

tioned The Golden Demon of 1912,wu filmed during the beach scene when the brutal

(i

r

-U

.39

Kanichi kicks the fragile 0rniya. The director, it is clairled, noticed the peaceful mountain

range across the bay and (having an articulated head on his tripod) decided to film it first,

only then panning the camera to the principles. Ordinarily, pan shots in early Western films

were rnore uarrative in intent: two acting areas were connected, making for a tighter and

lltore "realistic" story. In Japanese films, as one rnight expect, the focus was initiallv aes-

thetic. Thus, in The Golden Dernon, the director called attention to the beautiful mountains

simply because they were beautiful. There is also a kind of narrative connection: drarratic

coutrast-the mountains are peaceful, the kick on the beach is not. The assumption that

character can be defined by sirnilarities or contrasts to the physical surroundings is likewise

an oldJapanese narrative technique seen in rnany a scroll and screen. In all, the pan was uot

initially used to the sane effect as it was in the West.

The close-Llp, which had gained a prominent role early on in Western cinema, was also

applied differently in Japan.ln the West, the close-up brought the audience neArer to the face

of the protagonist so that moneuts of high emotion could be observed. The theory was that

this created empathy, enabling the viewer t0 "feel" more. Yet the first Japanese close-up

(there are several contenders for the honor) was not used in this lnanner at a\l.It-Resur-

rectiort (1914) being a typical exarnple-merely permitted a closer view of a character who

was doing a bit 0f business that would cornplicate appreciation of the anecdote unless closely

observed.

Even now, close-ups are not nearly as common in Japanese films as in Western pictures,

and some directors (notably, Mizoguchi) employed a scarcity of close-ups as a part of their

rrrattrre styles. Indeed, the Japanese audience was very late in accepting the assurrptions of

tlre teclrnique. There is some evidence that the close-LUls in Henry Kotani's Islancl Wonten

(Slrirna n0 onna,1920, n.s.) actually provoked laughter in Japan.

Irr the same way, the initialJapanese flashback-usually ascribed to a 1909 M. Pathd

filnr called The Cuckoo; A Neru Version (Shin hototogisu, u.s.)-was used not so much to

explain as to decorate the storyline. In The Cuckoo, the viewer need not know that the hero-

ine had been previously victimizedby a nan. The flashback is not ernployed to elucidate the

present by reference to the past but rather, as inJapanese poetT, to suggest a;sarallel.

Similarly, in Souls on the Road the flashbacks explain nothing at all, nor are they

irrterrded to. In general, the editing in the film insists Llpon an aestheticization of tirne and

space. Each of the several stories stops after a certarn portion is viewed. When we return to it

we find it just where it was when last we saw it. There is no elapsed time in this universe, just

as tlrere is none in traditionalJapanese dranaturgy.

The editing is unusual as well. Those who complained they could not follow the single

simple flashback in The Cuckoo would have been truly confused by Sotils on the RoarJ.

Tlrere is, however, n0 record that anyone actually wff, and this fact is sometimes used to

40

sllggest that Ushihara, when he put together the single 84-minute print we now have, was to

a degree influenced by all the pictures he had seen between I92I and 1951, ittcluding not

only those by Griffith but also some by Sergei Eisenstein as well.

A nore likely explanation for the "erratic" editing pattems in manyJapanese films of this

period is provided by David Bordwell in his discussion of "decorative tendencies." The critic

speaks of "flashy transitions" and maintains that the Japanese filmrnaker is more likely to

take the transition as apretext for stylistic embroidery."rr Bordwell's example is the dissolve

(one irnage appearing over another): in the West it suggests the passing of time, while in

Japan it is simply decoration. Through the dissolve, the filmmaker-intentionally or psf-insists on the theatricalify that remains so much an aim in anyJapanese entertaiument.

The editing in Souls on the Road is certainly not put to any of the putative uses 0f "real-

isrn." A particularly "Llnrealistic" use is seen in the final sequence of the film. A title

auuounces, "lf he [the father] hadn't forgiven them; if he had forgiveu them," and we see

what would have perhaps happened had things been otheruise. Unlike a similar constructiorr

in tlre double ending of F. W. Murnau's The Lnst Luugh (1924), this decorative flourish

proceeds froru nothing inherent in the film itself. It is used for its own innocent sake.

ht Souls on the Rood, as in many other films of this and later periods, one is struck by

tlre free use of what in the West would be considered advanced, even avarft-garde techniques.

This held true for the ruost conmercial of Japanese films as well. One reason, undoubtedly,

was that the presence of any kind of narrative (in the Western sense) was an irnported idea.

fuld while Japanese have always discriminated anong imports as to their usefulness, there

are often no other criteria for their use.

Even in today's media this phenomenoll can be observed. fui FM radio program of

Western music is likely to contain fuiton von Webem alongside Leroy fuiderson. The

reasoning is not that one is avant-garde and one is not, or that one is serious and one isn't,

but simply that both are Westem.

Thus, even routine Japanese program-pictnres of the twenties and thirties contained shots

0r sequences which the West associated with only the rnost advanced art films. Usually, how-

ever, such techniques were used solely for effect and played a negligible part in the structure

of the picture. The combination of traditional (East) and modern (West) forrned the patterns

tlrat gave the prewarJapanese film both its traditional base and its nodernistpatina.

That such a n-EIartge of influences as those creating Sotils on the Road should have pro-

duced a film still enjoyable after eighty years indicates something about the Japanese aes-

thetic and its universalify. What one sees and retains in Souls on the Road are pffiallels, not

conflicts. This is true not only of the characters and their problems but also of their very

position within the cinematic world they inhabit. The interest is in the emotional overtones

of a situation, one which creates an overall mood or atmosplrere.

J

41

Creating a sturdy narralive is all well and good, but just as important is the careful con-

struction of. a context, a nexus. Love within a family, for example, 0r comradeship among

men-these themes are not to be shown through the uncommon moments of high emotion

usual to a carefully plotted story. Rather, they arc to be appreciated within a context of winter

landscapes and overcast skies, where "the men and women move as though aimless, hanhly

outlined, sharply defined, against the somber mountains and the dark forest."22

During the first yean of its history, theJapanese film was thus evolving in its own eclectic

manner. But the manner was truly pragmatic-only what worked for the audience was

used. The aim was popularity, film being the commercial business that it was (and still is).

There is a theory that the conventions of the Japanese theater-the appearance of men

acting as women; the presence of that presentational agent, the benshi-all somehow seryed

to preserve the 'Japaneseness" 0f this cinema, protecting it from rapacious Hollywood. Such

a theory, however, fails to take into account the fact that achievin gJapaneseness was never

an ambition, and that. any Hollywood "takeover" was a highly selective and invitational

affaft.lf anything, it wuJapanese companies that took over the ways of the Califomia studios.

It is probably safe to say that Japanhas never assimilated anything that it did not want to.

42

TAISHO DEMOCRACY AND SHOCHIKU

Th, 1923 Kanto Earthquake continued what the Meiji Reformation had begun, the

I erosion of the Tokugawa-period foundations Llporr which traditionaIJapan had rested.

Though "feudal" elements rernained, the assumptions of the Tokr-rgawa governmeut were

hardly useful rn aworld where many of its creations had vanished.

Actually, the erosion had been going on for decades-the earthquake merely provided a

sense of closure. Upon the death of the Meiji emperor in I9I2, the rnajor oligarchies which

had effectively ruled the country reluctantly withdrew fron positions of direct political leader-

slrip. Though they continued to oppose many progressive ideals, including the idea of parlia-

mentary rule, their influence gradually lessened. The modern, the new, and the foreign

thrived in the new Taisho era, posthumously named after the emperor Meiji's third and only

suliving son, Yoshihito. The Taisho era was a period of lively artistic progress, severe eco-

nonric stress, ard a series of rnilitary crises that eventually cuhninated in the disaster of

World War II.

Tlre decade is now characterized as the period of "Taisho dem octacy ," a term coined by

post-World War lI Japanese historians to imply a contrast with the much less democratic

Meiji period and the plainly repressive Showa era which was to follow. A period of social

unrest and major change-particularly in rnedia, education, and cultural matters-Taisho

also saw the relaxation of governrnental surveillance and censorship, those Tokugawa tech-

niques adopted by the Meiji rulem. New emphasis on the individual and on addressing social

inequalities meant that the traditional position of women was qllestioned, unions were

formed to protect workers, parliamentary procedure was introduced, and big business was

encouraged.

The cinema was hard hit by the earthquake. Many of the studios and theaten in the capital

were destroyed or badly damaged, and the structure of the film industry was seriously shaken.

Many old concepts had to be abandoned and many new methods and ideas had to be adopted.

43

Oue rnajor change the earthquake hastened rvas the division of production. Jidaigeki pro-

duction was now firmly centered in Kyoto, where there were still studios standing , and

gendaigeki were exclusively rlade in Tokyo. This made sense. Kyoto was thought conserva-

tive and old-fashioned; it was also believed to ernbody traditionalJapanese virtues. Tokyo, on

the other hand, was seen as modern and new, and attractively Western. Whether anyolte ever

intended a division this cornplete or not, it occurred, and, until the collapse of the genre fifffyears later, most jidaigeki continued to be made in Kyoto. Even today, historical television

serials are still often shot in the old capital.

Post-earthquake Tokyo took to the movies and, as did Tokyo, so did Japan. Before long,

rrew features were being turned out, eventually some seven hundred ayear. By 1928, five

years after the disaster,Japan produced more films annually than any other country, and

would continue to do so for another decade, until World War II curtailed production.

Movies made noltey. As public entertainment, films lrad no rivals. Nrnost every/one in

Japan, it would seem, went. This audience watched Japanese films, foreign films, and per-

ceived all cinerna, old-fashioned or newfangled, as mass entertainment.

This new post-earthquake cinemA, as Kornatsu Hiroshi has said, "virtually destroyed the

long-standing and traditional forrns on the one hand by assirnilating funerican cinem a and

ou the other hand through the imitation of avant-garde forms such as German expression-

isrn and French impressionisrn."I

Tradition was thus challenged in late-Taisho and early-Showa movies, and no one nore

firmly flung down the gauntlet than did Kido Shiro when he became head of the Karlata

Shochiku Studios in 1924. "There are two ways to view humaniry . . . cheerful and gloomy.

But the latter will not do: we at Shochiku prefer to look at life in a warm and hopeful way. To

inspire despair in our viewer would be unforgivable. The bottom line is that the basis of film

rlust be salvation." l

This represented a new kind of bottorn line. Usually, finances dictate the bottom line, and

tlris eventually proved to be true at Shochiku as well, but initially, atleut, the company was

atternpting to make a new kind of product. This it did-though not always an excessively

cheerful one.

In fact, though Kido gathered around him some of the best directorial talent of the post-

eartlrqu ake eru, he could not, despite rnany efforts, impose such facile restrictions 0n direc-

tors as varied and as talented as Gosho Heinosuke, Shirnazu Yasujiro, Shimizu Hiroshi, Ozu

Yasujiro, and then Naruse Mikio, YoshimuraKozaburo,Oba Hideo, and Kinoshita Keisuke.

These directors all went on to make serious films, and by n0 means did most of their work fit

the ideals of the "Kamatastyle," thatsobriquet under which Kido envisioned his salvationist

product.

Actually a light and cheerful style was not a Shochiku monopoly. Attractive modern ways

44

of presenting attractive modern experi-

euces were by now fairly common. Eveu

the rnore consewative Nikkatsu made a

few nrodern moclan-mlnl ("modern

pieces"). Exarnples are found in the films

of Abe Yutaka, a director who trained

in Hollywood under Ernst Lubitsch and

created such successfttl satirical conte-

dies as The Girl Who Touched His Legs

(Ahi ni sawatta onna, aka The Wornan

Wlro Touched the Legs , 1925).

Kido might not have been able to fully enforce the ideals he wanted but he was able to

preverrt what he did not want: "The shimpa style . . . failed to portray real people. Some

inmutable ruoral code of the tirnes was taken as a point of departurc, the character's actiotts

were considered to lrove within the confines of the code as though utterly ruled by it. We

wish to resist blind acceptance of sone banal moral rule, to use a criticism of tuorals as a

point of departure to grasp the realiW of human beings." 3

What was being criticized was nothing less than traditional Japan and those attitudes (a

repressive kind of pessirnism, ableak spirit of self-sacrifice, etc.) which were still being fos-

tered in sorne corners of the bright rlew Taisho world. However, the cheerful Kanata sffle

could tum just as sober, as is indicated by the fate of several of its pictures. When Ozu Yasu-

jiro's I Wts Born, Bu,t , ,. (Urnarete wa rlita keredo, 1932) "came out very dark," as Ozu

hintself phrased it, Kido delayed its release by a nurnber of rnonths and remained farnously

r-ulnollified when this uncheerftrl film won the Kinerna Juntpo First Prize that year. Md

wlren Oshirna Nagisa made the grave Alight ctncl Fog irt Jclpan (Nihon n0 yorul to kiri,

1950), Kido ordered it yanked out of the theaters three days after its release.

Some directors, however, if they

were cheerful enough, experienced

no such difficulties. Ushihara Kiyo-

hiko, one of those on the staff of

Sottls on tlte Rorrcl, retumed effort-

lessly optirnistic in 1927 , from a

year of study with Charlie Chaplin.

Suclr conseqLlent fihls u Loue oJ'

LtJb (Jinsei no ai, 1923, n.s.) and

He and Ltfe (Kare to jinsei, 1929,

n.s.) earned him the nickname

The Girl Who Touched His Legs,1926, Abe Yutaka, with0kada Tokihiko, Umemura Yoko

He and Life, 1929, Ushihara Kiyohiko, with Tanaka Kinuyo,

Suzuki Demmei

45

"set'tchimentaru [sentimental] Ushiharai' atitle considered lnore complimentary than not.

At example would be Tbe Age of Emotion (Kangeki jidai , 1928), nineteen minntes of which

still exist, a rnaudlin but cheerful romance, starring the "[ove tearn" of Suzuki Demmei and

Tanaka Kinuyo.

Though Kido proclaimed optimistic intentions, he also spoke of "the reality of human

beings," and this not always cheerftrl quality found its way into the films he produced. Here

his better directors were with him. They were yoLurg, they were equally sick of the dour

shimpa product, and they did not approve of official repressive measures such as the "Lurder-

st00d" rnoral codes the government was beginning to suggest. Having now glimpsed the

outside world (even if only through funerican productions), these yourrg directors were n0

lorrger satisfied with "traditioltal" Japan.

Since the Shochiku brand of gendaigeki was both pro-modem and pro-Western (that

these two are not identical mrains a major theoretical argurrent inJapan), anyone exanin-

ing Japanese cinema must look beyond the storylines. One must inquire into the assulnp-

tious of the directors and their associates as well as exanline their conjectures and surmises.

THE NEW CENDAICEKI: SHIMAZU, COSHO, SHll'llzu, OZU, AND NARUSE

fi director who first-and some maintain best-exernplified the aims of the new Kamata

t{sffle was ShimAZu Yasujiro. Shirilazuhad worked on Souls ort the Rocr,cl and would

b.rorc the mentor of Gosho Heinosuke, Toyoda Shiro, YoshinlLlra Koz'.tburo, and later,

Kinoshita Keisuke, Nakanlura Noboru, and Kawashima Yuzo-ail directors wlto were at one

time or another in their careers associated with shochiku. He made nearly one hundred and

fiftv films and had astrong influence 0n those who worked uuder him.

Shimazu's first notable

picttrre, Fother (0tosan ,1923,

n.s.), wffi a light conedy about

a baseball champiou and a

sinple countryr girl. It ap-

parently resernbled fulericau

cornedies of the period except

that it seerns to have relied

more on char actet and mood

than upon plot and slapstick.

It also exposed class differ-

ences in a way unusual for

Japanese fihns.

46

Father, 1923, Shimazu Yasujiro, with Masakuni Hiroshi, MizutaniYaeko

In the old-school kyuha, the samurai class was assumed to be on top and everyone else

on the bottom; in the shimpa-based film, the distinction was not so much socialized as gen-

dered-it was the men who were on top (however insecurely) and the women (however

undeservedly) who were on the bottom. In the films of Shirn azu and those who worked with

him, issues of social class long appareut in Japanese life now became discernible on the

screen as well.

Tlre simple country girl in Father struggles with her rural, low-class social standing as

does tlre lrero of AVillage Teachw (Mura n0 sensei, 1925, n.s.). This interest in "people just

like you and me," one of Kido's original dictates, had the effect of ernphasizing "the lower

classes" in a manner hitherto rare in Japanese fihns. People liked the novelty of seeing

"thenrselves" on the screen and the result was a geure usually called shomingeki or

shoshimingeki Such fihns abor-rt the "little people," which would later turn pathetic or polit-

ical or both, began in these light comedies of Shinrazu and those who worked under him.

)ur Neighbor, Miss Yae, 1934, Shimazu Yasujiro, with Aizome

Yumeko, Takasugi Sanae

Tlre picture by which Shirnazu is best remembered, )ur lVeighbor, \l[iss 17rc (Tonari no

Yae-clran, 1934), shows how the director and his associates portrayed everyday people andat

the same tirne satisfied modern expectations.

The two neighboring farnilies featured in the film, though lower middle-class, have

enough income to be noticeably Westernized (the krds sing "Red River Valley," for instance,

and they all go to the movies and see a Betty Boop cartoon), but these lives are presented in a

context very different frorn that of, say, Frank Capra's It Happened )ne lVight, the big

foreign hit of the saneyear.

In)tr lVeighbor, Miss Yoe, there is no social subtext as there is in the Caprafilm, where

tlre heroine is an heiress, spoiled and snobbish, and the hero a workaday reporter, poor but

47

honest. fuid certainly, there is no comparable melodramatic plotting. Instead we have an

anecdote and, in the place of an assumed social text, we have aesthetic patterning, in the

Japanese llanller. The daughter (Miss Yae) of one farlily fancies the son of the other; Yae's

sister, too, has her eye on the boy, but it is Yae who moves in with the neighboring family to

finish her high-school studies when her own farlily rnoves away. Her last line is: "l'rr not a

neighbof arlyn]ore. "

Though there is a degree of social comrnentary (one father says to the other: "lf the boys

latew howwe talk about our jobs, theywouldn't have much hope for the future"), the inter-

est is in the design of the narrative. The film opens, for example, with a slow dolly shot sltow-

ing two houses with boys playing baseball on the lot in the rniddle. A tuissed ball breaks a

window (one family has intruded upoll the other) and the story begins. The opening scelte

thus encapsulates the entire plot. Throughout, highly selective realism reveals how a director

can rnake things lifelike while retaining control through that very selection.

One of ShirlanJ's assistant directoru was Gosho Heinosuke, who wettt on to enlarge the

shomingeki tradition, to deeperl an interest in character, and, at the same time, continue to

suggest ways in which the Western techniques of cinema could accommodate the Japauese

audience.

Though some have said that Shimazu's was the first and only influence 0n Gosho, there

were others as well. First, the younger director was au even morc avid student of Western cin-

erna tlran most of his contemporaries. He said he had seen Lubitsclls The \l[arringe Circle

(1924) at least twenty times and named it (along with Chaplin'sA Wontan of Pnris,1923)

the greatest Western influence on his work.

This influence is quite apparent in the earliest of Gosho films extAut, he lVeighblr's

Wfe ancl fulhrc (Madarnu to nyobo, 1931). Usually referred to as'JapAu's first talkie,"

though there were other earlier part-talkies, it remains interesting because of its deft use of

sound. The film recounts how a struggling low-class journalist-one of the "little people" to

be found in such shomingeki as this-is kept front couceutrating by the lazz-band racket

coming from the house next door. Going to complain, he rernaitn to be seduced by the noisy

"rnadame" 0f theJapauese title. Nong the way are various lazz selectiorts, all of thern qr-rite

loud, and anumber of aural jokes-meowing cats, sqr,reakirtg mice, crying children.

Like the later Lubitsch, Gosho found away to incorporate sonud as a structural elentent iu

this earlv film and to coltunent on the "all-talkie" as he simultaneously established its colt-

ventions. There is even a Lubitsch "toLrch" at the end, where a couple take tlteir baby out for

solne air to the sound-track accolnpaniment 0f "My Blue Heaven" (a great favorite in

48

The Neighbor's Wife and Mtne, 1931,

Gosho Heinosuke, with WatanabeAtsushi, Tanaka Kinuyo

Japan). At the lines "And baby makes three," the happy couple find that they ltave wandered

off and left the baby carriage behind.

fuiother iufluence from foreign fihls was an unusllAl number of close-Llps and the rela-

tive breviff of separate shots. As early u 1925, Gosho became larowrt (in contradistinctiott to,

say, Mizoguchi Kenji, already working at the Nikkatsu Studios) as the director wlto used

tlrree shots where others would Llse one. A later filur, Art hut in Osaks (Osaka no yado,

1954), is composed of over one thousaud separate shots, and the following year's Grou,ittg

Up (Takekurabe, 1955) contained, in its now-lost integral version, even more. Other con-

temporaneolls fulerican fihls averaged only three hundred to seven hundred shots. Only

rarc filrns, such rc Shane (195, or Rem' Windou, (1954), had one thousaud.

Gosho was one of the Kamata directors rrost interested in literature-as differentiated

from popular reading rnatter. As we have seeu, early Japanese filrl was nrllch indebted to

drarna. Many of the popular shirnpa dramas had been adapted frotu popular novels. Cortse-

quently, filrls canle more and more to rely upon the same type of source material. Sorne

critics have justifiably rlaintained that the Japanese cinema is singular in its closeness to

popular literature.

But rlelodrama (which is what most popular literature was and is) lends itself to stock

situations and stereofypes. Iu the 1930s, those not satisfied with such limitations turned to

arrotlrer kind of reading. In Japan, this resulted in the genre known rcjun-bungft,u (pure

literature), books nlore closely resembling real life, considered also as "seriolls" literature.

Alnrost all Japanese novels known through translation in the West belong to this gerlre.

Gosho and those who wrote his scripts were among the many in the Japanese film industry

who were dissatisfied with stock plots and characters. In striving for sornething more

approaching truth, they also-perhaps without intending to-prepared for a cinema which

was rnore representational than presentational.

49

Gosho, however, the fastest cutter on the lot, was also a haiku poet. There is no contradic-

tion in this. Even now, many Japanese (and back then, most Japanese) included in their

tttodern (Western-influenced) lives a traditional pastine such as penning these short lyrics.

Here is a haiku that Gosho sent to his friend )zuYasujiro as a seasonal greeting on Jarnary

2,1935,

Hot springs here,

and there goes

rny first New Year crow. t

His composition is conventionally expert, as it includes a seasonal reference, a definite

place, and a novement-in this case the felicitous way that first things are awaited on the

New Year: the first rice, the first hot bath, even the sight of the first crow. Note the Gosho-like

touch of hurnor since, unlike the nightiugale, this cornmon bird is not pleasurably awaited.

Gosho's double-aesthetic heritage (Japanese and Westem) naturally affected his cine-

rnatic style, which combined "the haiku and Lubitschian ddcoupage-and how they func-

tion." 5 He sometimes used what we might call a haiku-like construction. One of the best

known examples is in 6vsuti?tg up. In one scene the young heroine, destined for a life of

prostitution but never fully awarc of it, innocently enters into a conversation with the adults,

who avoid divulging her precise fate. As the scene closes, Gosho cuts to abird in a cage. We

have noticed this caged bird before; there was even a bit of business built around it. Now,

however, Gosho makes a comment through cinematic rnetaphor. Brevity and lack of empha-

sis restore to the trite symbol much of its original freshness and power, just as in a haiku.

During his long career, Gosho made atotal of ninety-nine filrns. These were of various

genres: farces, light cornedies, romantic rnelodramas, family dramas, social dramas. Most

rewardingly, these genres are eclectically rnixed. Just as he cornbined Western techniques

with an often haiku-like construction, so he could infuse cornedy with unexpected emotion.

This creative blending 0f gerlres was not thought well of in the West. Sergei Eisenstein

once had an opportunity to see Gosho's early Trickl, Girl (Karakuri musurne, 1!27, n.s.) and

disliked it, saying that it began like a Monty Banks comedy but ended in the deepest despair.

What he objected to was the rnixing of genres. Indeed, over and over, the filrns of Ozu,

Naruse Mikio, Toyoda Shiro-even Kurosawa Akira-have disconcerted the rigid West by

successfully combining elements assumed to be antithetical

The Japanese audience felt no such compulsion to adhere to strict categorizations. Irr

fact, "Gosho-ism," which became anaccepted critical term often used byJapanese film crit-

ics, was defined as a style incorporating sornething that makes you laugh and cry at the

sarne time. Chaplin was often mentioned as the single foreign example.

50

There are other similarities between Gosho and Chaplin besides the deliberate mixing 0f

lrunor and;sathos. Both directors-shirnazuYasuiiro as well-rnake much of the kind of

hurnanism which the shorningeki encouraged and which is perhaps best expressed at the

end of .,4 n Inn in }saka when the hero, finally transferred to Tokyo, says: "None of us catt

say he is happy or fortunate, yet things still seem promising . . . we are able to laugh at our

own misfortunes, and as long as we can laugh we still have the strength and courage to build

a new future." And so it goes in Gosho's films. There is a sense of release-the circum-

stances remain the same but the outlook has changed. In his work we calt clearly see the

familiar pattern of joining modern methods to traditional assumptions.

Shimizr-r Hiroshi, a contemporary of Gosho's at Shochiku, made nore than oue huttdred and

sixty films in his long career, though many of the earliest worls are now lost. From the first,

Slrinrizu seens to have fit the Kanatasffle well. Kido recalls that, even in his melodralnas,

"slrimizu conposed his effects, not in tenns of the facial expressions of the actors, but in

terns of the story itself. His composition becarne the expressive rnedia. This was his ltew

tnethod." ('

Even melodrarna itself was apparently reformed in these early Shimizu films. At

Nikkatsu, directors such as Uchida Tomu and Mizoguchi Kenji were at the tirne still staging

shirnpa drarna, relying on stage sets and stage-trained actors. At Shochiku, on the other

lrand, directors such as ShirnazuYasujiro and Shimizu were using natural locations and

young acton who had never been on the stage.

Slrinrizu's early Undlting Pearl (Fue no shiratarna, I92D, based 0n a melodrama by

popular writer Kikuchi Kan, used natural settings, such as harbors and stations, in coujunc-

tion with sets. Mr. Thank, You (fuigato-san, 1936), a film about a bus driver, was shot in its

entirety on real streets and roads.

Such methods affected the style of the films themselves. It has been suggested that one of

the reasons for Mizoguchi's signature long-held shots was that the actors needed time to gen-

erate their performances. If this is so, perhaps the shots were often short in Shimizu films

because the actors could not handle long takes. Kido noticed this when he said: "lnstead of

using facial expressions to draw the drama out, lShimizu] dissolves the actor's movenents

into several fragments, each shot in a short take. This mounting tension of short shots

becones the propelling force of the story."7

Indeed, acting had little to do with a Shimizu film. Oba Hideo rernembers that when he

was assisting Shirnizu, the director rarely, in any usual sense of the word, directed his actors.

Ratlrer, he treated thern as props, saying that if they acted, they would overdo it. ff an actor

51

asked what kind of f'eeling was rreeded, the directil,e would be to just do the scene without urrv

feelin g,

Such treatnrent of actors wrts alreadv a tradition-the "Taguchi ntethod," 1rs we have

seelt being nruch prztcticed bv directoLs such as 0zu. Though clown at the Nikkatsu studios

Nlizoguclti lvas being equallv difficult r,vith his nrore fzuuous zrctols, his ntotil,ations were clif-

ferettt. He wartted outstunding perfonnances and wcluld go to great lengths to achieve what

one critic has called the nrainstav of Xlizoguchi's fihus: a gnutd displav of the will of a

wonran who endures her fate irr tears.

Howevel indifferent Shirnizu nright htrve seelued to his actors, he was not so with the

filnrs thenrselves. If his tLeatnrent of his actors ll'as untraclitional (nrost Japanese clirectors,

thett its ltow, willirtgl)I accept whatevet etttotional interpretation the actor offers), lte lvas

nruch nrore traditional in his structuring. His fihns consist of tt series of scenes in lvhich the

nzuLative is sinrltlv the'r colunron mutualitv. Each episode conlneuts uporr and ertends the

ston', but there is no heavilv plotted narrative ston'to be told. Rather the content is (in the

Japanese nranner) shaped bv the fornt.

In./rtltrtttese Girls ut ilte Hut'blr (N{inato no nihon nlusunre, 1933), the stolry is both

attecdotal and ruundane: three high-school girl friends all like the sanre bor'; when one of

theru rnarries hinr, the other two go bad and start working in a dunce hall. He, no better tharr

the\', begins to dallv lvith

**;'**xlt*: !HThe filnr opens as it euds:

with scenes of an ocean

liner leaving a port. This

is followed bv a patterned

sequence of scenes show-

ing two of the girls walk-

ing honre fronr school,

with the ship in the dis-

tauce. A bo)' ou his bike

joins thenr. The next seqlrence is stnrcturally identical, inclucling the sanre pattenr of scenes,

but this tinre the boy appeam 0uh'in the girls'couversAtion. At the end of the fihn, it is to this

sanre location that the bov and one of the bad girls (now married nrAn and fallen wonran)

conre. Again, the patterning is identical. This kind of structuring does indeed render nratter

subseruient to the form.

ln one sequence, the spurued girl finds the bov with another wonran. Having f ust takeu

his gun, she rrow Lrses it. The wa-v in which this is shown is fonlalized to an LlnuslrAl degree.

52

Japanese Girls at the Harbor, 1933, Shimizu Hiroshi, with 0ikawaMichiko, lnoue Yukiko, Sawa Ranko

Tlrere are four camefa shots, each progressively closer (from frontal long-shot to frontal

close-up). There is a shot of the girl, shot of the glln, shot of the boy and other wonan

(unhurt), and a reverse of the girl in long shot. Later in tlte ntovie, the girl finds the wouau

slre aimed at in her bed (the boy having perhaps just left), and the structure is the same.

Four short shots of the wolnan in bed, from long shot to close-up, recall in patterned and for-

malized form the former sequence.

Thongh the film has seve ral exaggeratedly Westem elements (art-deco dialogue titles,

clraracters with nalnes such as Dora and Henry, the boy listed in the credits as a "ltalf-

breed"), the style is not at alI Western, though the cutting does perhaps owe something to

whatever experimental cinema Shimizu might have seen.

Tlre rnany parallels-the use of objects to contain ernotion (the wife's knitting becomes

a motif almost Wagnerian in its permutations), the ellipses (the boy's marriage is uot showtt,

it is sirlply assimilated, after the fact), and the use of startling simile (when a person is no

longer needed, he simply vanishes, visibly fading out)-all point to something other thau

Western rnodels.

This is equally true of Unch,ing Pearl,the earliest extant Shirnizu film. The appeararrce

of the film is so modernist that one wonders if the director had not viewed the Robert Mallet-

Stevens decor for Nlarcel L'Herbier's L'Argent (I}ZD. In the Shimizu film, the cocktail

lounge where two sisters disport themselves is all frosted glass and exposed structure; the

dance hall is all spotlights and geometrical furniture. At the same titne, this kind of ntini-

malism was not only on display in moderu Japanese coffee shops, it was also present in tradi-

tionalJapanese architecture. Though the hero writes "l Love You" (in English) in the sand

with the tip of his companion's parasol, the elaborate playing with the curues of its opening

and closing, employed to flesh out the corlposition and provide continuity, calls to rnind the

visual and structural strategies of the traditionalJapanese artist.

One is also remiuded in this and in many of Shirnizu's films of a kind of structure seeu

in Japanese fiction-Kawabata Yasunari, for example, particularly in his "modernist"

phase, around 1930-where the work is filled with ellipses, Lutexpected rnetaphors, and a

conclusion which rnerely stops when the pattern is coruplete rather than effecting a conclu-

sion. One might say that Shimizr-r's "new method," where composition becomes the domi-

nant expressive rnedium, can be seen as an assumption about narrative design and as an

echo of Japanese literary heritage.

If this is trne, then particularly "Japanese" is an eleven-minute episode in A Star Athlete

(Hanagata senshu, 1937), where thirty consecutive dolly moverlents are used: "forward or

backward along a country road, with the canera always preceding or following the str,r-

dents." 0f this sequence, Nlen Stanbrook has also said that "by subtly varying the angles,

now dollying forward, now dollying back, now narching at the double or letting the caurera

53

break free to follow, Shimizu here created a seqlrence close to pure cinema in which the mat-

ter of the film is almost subservient to the forn."u lt is also an example of the usage of space

as ancient as that of the e-rnaki, the painted handscroll where space is unrolled (unreeled)

before us. It is also during this seqllence that Mo of the marching students colnpare their

situation with that of Gary Cooper in llloroccl-an example of Shimizu's fusing of Eastenr

and Western concerns.

Tlre "rnodemist" aspect of the Kantata style found its ftrllest expression in the work of Ozu

Yasujiro, who in his thirty-five-year directing career made fifff-four films, some thirty-three

of which suruive, though several of these are incorlplete. From the first, Ozu was interested in

Westem films. He once proudly said that when he had his Shochiku interuiew he could recall

having seen only three Japanese films.

Ozn was thus ideal for Kido's purposes. Though Ozu was originally made merely arr

assistant cameran)an and forced to lug the heavy machine around the set, he was later

apprenticed to Saito Torajiro, known as something of a specialist in Western-style comedy,

Thus, he s00n rnet his Shochiku contemporaries (Shirnizu Hiroshi, Gosho Heinosuke,

Naruse Mikio) as well as his future scriptwriter, Noda Kogo, and his future cinematographer,

Shigehara Hideo. All were involved in forging the new Kanata style, one which was more

progressive than that emerging from Nikkatsu and other studios.

Japanese filmmakers borrowed extensively from native popular literature, from the thea-

ter's reworkings of Western narrative principles, and from foreign (particularly fulerican)

filrns' conventions of style and structure. It was traditions both native and foreign that gave a

basic linear unity to earlyJapanese films.

New genres also emerged. One of the most engaging of these flourished under the eupho-

rrious designation of ero-g1ff0-??ansensu. None of these three components were new. Nl

were characteristic of late Edo literature, especially ero, the erotic. The g,url, or grotesque,

was solnething often seen in art or dram a, and ?xansensu--comic exaggeration 0r f.arce-

lrad been aJapanese staple for centuries.

It was this latter characteristic which appealed to the young 0zu. When he was given his

clrance, he asked to work not under Ushih araKiyohiko or the other prestigious directom, but

under Okubo Tadamoto, a specialist in nansensu productions who called hirnself a truly

vulgar director, a terrn which-with necessary qualifications-could be applied equally to

Ozu and later to Kawashima Yuzo, who also worked under Okubo.

Ozu later explained that his choice of Okubo may have been due to his own laziness

and Okubo's notorious laxness-Okubo's assistants never had to work very hard. Certainly

54

another reason, however, wffi the cornmonness of 0kubo's naterial and its complete lack of

pretensions. The difference between the two directors is that 0kubo created from vulgar

material; Ozu, from mundane material.

David Bordwell has discerned three principal tendencies at work in the creatiott of

Japanese-style cinema narrative during the period when Ozu was emerging as a director.

First, the "calligraphic" sfyle, associated with chambara (Japanese sword-fighting), wx5

flamboyant, full of fast action, rapid editing, and bravuracamera movement, and had as its

chief exponent Ito Daisuke. Second was the "pictorialist" style-derived from shimpa and

influenced by Hollywood's Josef von Sternberg-where each shot was a complex composi-

tion with long shots predominating, rn astyle later exernplified by Mizoguchi. Finally, there

was tlre "piecem eal" style (one bit of information per shot). In this style, the average shot

length ranged from three to five seconds, and the narrative, comprised of neat, static shots,

was associated with gendaigeki and derived mainly from Lubitsch. No doubt Ozu was drawn

to this style because of Kido's partialiry to it, but also in part because of the style's generic

predisposition, including the fact that Okubo used it. Likewise, Ozu responded favorably to

the style "because of the possibilities it holds for mixing playfulness and rigor." e Finally, this

resulted in a clean, transparent structure, something which Ozu admired both because it

reflected Japanese tradition and defined modernism.

One of the reasons for this was that modernism as an international style was much

indebted to Japan Its continued use, now that it had become internationally fashionable,

seerred but natural. The Bauhaus, a school which codified many rnodernist assumptious,

sponsored a style which was colnfortable to the people who had created the Katsura Detached

Pa\ace, that single structure which influenced the construction of the Bauhaus itself.

Ozn hirnself never paid close attention to theory. Nonetheless, he did, from fihn to fihn,

incorporate anumber of assumptions about structure. Such assumptions may be viewed as

operating within the larger cultural nexus. One of Japan's structural assumptions has always

been that visible structure is permissible. Thus, there are n0 faEades in traditional Japanese

arclritecture. In traditional drama, such as noh, anecdote takes the place of scenery and a

kata-Iike structure takes the place of a plot. Whereas early cinema worldwide revealed its

structural elements, false fronts were soolt erected to hide these. In Japan, structure long

remained visible , and not only because modernism insisted upor'l it. Thus Japan's visible

structural assumptions contributed to the West's definition of modernism, just as Japan's

later lack of consistent aesthetic theory contributed to postmodernism. Ozu looked at mod-

ernism and identified with what he saw there.

Many other Japanese at the time also related well to modernism. For most, however,

modernism merely meant being up-to-date. All periods are "modern," though not all of

tlrern so label thernselves. For traditionally-mindedJapanese, modernism was away of work-

rt-'rJ_

')*-

I)

55

ing with what they already knew. In the West, modernism questioned temporality, reevalu-

ated it, opposed it, and thus defined itself against tradition. This was very difficult for Japa-

nese, including Ozu, to comprehend. In anv event, modernism in Japan was not the

polernic aI affair it was in the West. It was rnerely one of a plurality of styles, though one

which somehow reaffirned traditional notions, reinforced earlier rnethods of construction.

Modemism as a Western style also shared with traditionalJapan a freedorn frorn accepted

realism, a tendency to the formally complex, and a fondness for the elliptical. What is left out

of noh and of the typical Ozu narrative call, in this case, be eqr-rated with what is left out in

the stories of Gertrude Stein and the novels of Henry Green.

There is also in Westem modernistic narrative a certain openness of structnre. These

works show how they are made. Even in Ozu's earliest pictures, so influenced by the collven-

tional Westem fihl, there is a like transparency of structure which is Western only in that

some modernist Western films had inadvertently appropriated Japanese ideas. Despite all the

American paraphernalia, even the early Ozu films show the pellucid structural exposure

which we associate with both the

traditional ethos of Japan and mod-

ernist foreigu cinema.

There are urAny examples of such

visible construction. In the eleven

nrirrutes that remain of I Grctcltnted,

But . , . (Daigaku wa deta keredo,

192D, a cltaracter is introduced in

analytical manner: first a foot in adoor, then the Llpper frarne of the

door, then a hat. ht A Struight-

foru'cn'cl Bo.l' (Tokkankozo, 192il,

nine rninutes of which are preserued,

a series of gags is shown, each one

scene loug, with callse and effect

plairrly visible. Fighting Friench,

Foreigtt Style (Wasei kenka tomo-

datchi, 192D, fourteen miuutes of

wlrich still exist, anuonnces itself as a

Japanese version of an funericarr

filrrr, Fighting Friencls. The Japanese

flavor was to be enjoyed more in the

parallel seqllences and the visible

I Graduated, But , 1929, Ozu Yasujiro, with Takada

Minoru, Tanaka Kinuyo

I Was Born, But , 1932, Ozu Yasujiro, with Sugawara

Hideo (left), Tokkankozo (right)

56

linkage of like scenes rather than in the exotic buddy-bonding inherertt to the original story.

Wlren in Ozu's I Was Born, Bu,t , .., the can)erudollies past bored boys at their school

desls, then cuts to a similar dolly naneuver past the boys' bored fathers at their office desks,

the fihn reveals its construction through parallels. Its structurt becomes visible; its cotttent

becomes its form and vice vema. At the same time, the origin of this particular type of sequence

was not to be found in traditional examples of Japauese structural exposure but in Rend

Clair's A lVous la Liberte (1931), a fihn released ayear before the Ozu filrn in which parallel

dollies connect and contrast bored prisoners in jail and bored factoryworkers olt the job.

Ozu forrned his style frorn all sorts of sources. By appropriating and then usirtg or dis-

carding as ltecesSary, Ozn offers something of aparadigm for the way thatJapanese directors

ofterr work. There is a great opeuness about influences. Not only did Ozu learn front

Lubitsch, as did evelyoue else, but often frorn Mack Sennett and from the Hal Roach )urGrmg comedies. He took from whatever he saw around him.

Tlrus Naruse Mikio's film Flmkl,, Wlrk, Hard (Koshiben garnbare, aka Ode to a Sales-

rlran, 1931) was also a soluce for 1 Was Born, But The Ozu filnt, though made in 1931,

was released ayeff later. The two films shared the same nilieu, the Kanatasuburbs, and tlte

sane indications of social inequality. In Narnse, the ernployee's son beats up the boss's solt,

and the aggressor's father implores the boy to go and apologize. In Ozu, the sons say they

can beat up the boss's sou s0 why does their father have to work for his.

The wa.v in which Ozu combined influences created his methods. For example, Kihachi,

tlre lovable no-good hero of a nurnber of pictures-Passing Fanc1, (Dekigokoro, I93r,Tlte

Stor.l, oJ' Flocrtirtg Weecb (Ukikusa m0n0 gatan, 1934) , Alt Inrt in Tokl'o (Tokyo n0 yado,

I93D, andArt Innocuil Maid (Hakoiri musume,1935, n.s.)-is based 0n a real person. Ozu

said tlrat when he was growing up he knerv just sr-rch a person. Ikeda Tadao, his scriptwriter,

knew the same fellow, so they created the character together.

Kihachi was also 0zu. In his joumal entry for August 8, 1933, the dircctoL addresses hirlself:

"Kiha-chan! Remember yollr age.

You're old enough to know it's get-

ting harder to play around with [in

English] 'sophisticated corredyl' " r0

At the sAme time the character is

most certainly based 0n Wallace

Beery in King Vidor's The Cbamlt

( 1931) . Later, Kihachi was to be

metamorphosed in like fashion by

another director, Yamada Yoji, in

the popular Tora-san series.The Story of Floating Weeds, 1934, Ozu Yasujiro, withYakumo Rieko, Sakamoto Takeshi.

57

Kilrachi may serue as an antalgam of the various influences that fonled Ozu's way of

doing tlrings. In Passirtg Fancl' orre notices how Wallace Beery's eminently natr-ualistic per-

fornrance has been choreographed and structur alized by Ozu and his actor, Sakarnoto

Takeshi. Their Kihachi could be seen as a modernist construction. His personal characteris-

tics are surmised from his behavior: he always scratches hirnself in the same way, he stomps

his way out of his trousers irt the same manrler, his typical gestures are typical. The result is

hutnorous, since repetition is one of the techniques that comedialts use, but at the same

time, the spectator is allowed to see into the character, just as visible structure allows one to

see irtto a fihr or, architecturally speaking, to peer into a building.

Ozu went on to further refine his rneans. He made some emerging techniques, such as

color, his own. Others he abjured-the wide screen, he said, rerninded him of a roll of toilet

paper. In general, he minimalized his technique: "While I was rlaking I Wts Born, But . . . ,

I decided to never use a dissolve and to end every sceue with a cut. I've never used a dissolve

or fade after that. They aren't elements of filrl grannar or whatever you want to call it, but

sirnply physical attributes of the carnere."rr He later said that he had fully intended "to filrn

the last fade-out of the silent cinelna." rl

Such modernist sentiments created the traditional Ozu style, comprised of low-angle

shots, a station ary can)eta, affangement of characters in the scene, avoidance of movement,

full-face shots of the speakers, stability of the size of tire shot, linking by means of cutting

alone, a prevalence of curtain-shots, performance-based ternpi, and choreographed acting.

In a completely contemporary setting, using the most modern and mundane of materials,

Ozu was also using the tools of the earliestJapanese cinerla.

Though the same can be said of some other directors, Ozu was much more rigorous. He

is also emblematic of Japanese filmmakers of his generation, directors able to avail thern-

selves freely of both national past and foreign future. Perhaps for this reason, critical opinion

can even now find )zu not only a conseruative ("the rnostJapanese of all directors") but also

a radical rnodernist.

Looking more closely at Ozu's stylistic characteristics, we rnight inquire into their origins

and nature. Ozu once told his caneraman that it was very difficult to achieve good composi-

tions in aJapanese room, especially in the corners, but that by keeping the catneraposition

low, the task was made easier. As for the veto on dolly shots, there were no dollies that could

accomrnodate such a low cameruposition.

The maiority of Ozu's stylistic means had asingle end in view: the creation of a composi-

tion which satisfied him. This most traditional of airls lre gratified throLlgh the most mod-

ernist of methods. Experimenting and refining, watching Western films, absorbing influences

everywhere, Ozu was also, in his owlt way, concerned with a kind of traditionalisn. This is

not only true of his subject matter (throughout his career he only had one serious theme: the

58

dissolution of the traditionalJapanese family) but also of his way of working with it.

}zu, like many Japanese directors (Mizoguchi, Kurosawa, Ichikawa Kon), wffi a

draughtsman. His pictures (usually still lifes, all in that rustic manner typical of the tradi-

tional amateur aesthete, the bunjin) are highly competent. Whether he so regarded thent or

not, his sketches, watercolors, and ink drawings are the opposite of modernist-they are

deeply traditional.

Perlraps the most traditional aspect not only of Ozu's films but also of Japanese cinema

as awhole is its long-lived and still-continuing concern for composition. Dictionaries define

composition as the cornbining of distinct parts to create a unified whole , and the tnanner in

which the parts are combined or related. This presentation of a unified view is one of the

elements in Japanese culture-the garden, ikebana, the stage-and it is ttot surprising that

an acute compositional consciousness should be part of the visual style of the country.

In Japanese fihn the compositional imperative is so assumed that it is the rarc director

who fails to achieve it. (lf he so fails, as in the fihns of Imanura Shohei, it is intentional.)

Usually, a concern for abalanced composition, symmetrrcal or asymmetrical, has become an

identifying mark of Japanese fihns-right up to the films of, say, Kitano Takeshi , andbeyond.

If Ozu's compositional interests can be seen as traditional, s0 too, can his thoughts on

construction. Critic Nagai Tatsuo once rnentioned that many of Ozu's titles refer to the sea-

sons and asked Ozu if that meant he was interested in haiku. The director replied that he

wrote maybe three haiku ayear, although, in truth, his journals are filledwith them-one a

week 0r s0. He wouldattimes be self-critical, such as with the following haiku, after which

lre wrote, "What abadpoem."

Spring rain

Begins to fall

Poor kotatsu.t3

The seasonal reference is certainly there. The fact that the foot-warmer is no longer needed

now that the warm spring rains are fa\IiLrg is, true, abit mawkish. Nonetheless, Ozu himself

tlrought haiku of relevance to fihn: "Since renga fiinked classical verse] is similar to film

editing, I found it a good learning experience."r*

Among the less traditionalof the new gendaigeki directors at Shochiku, and perhaps conse-

quently the last to be promoted, was Naruse Mikio. Naruse eventually made eighty-nine films

(forty-four of which have survived), though he was not allowed to begin directing until 1930.

a)

I

-i-t

59

Otte of the reasons for this relatively late start was Kido Shiro's antipathy. Kido later told

Audie Bock that he had disliked Naruse's "absence of highs and lows," his "rronotone pace,"

characteristics, he believed, endemic to the director's sryle.rs

Light, cheerful, diverting cornedies that looked on the bright side were not characteristic

of Naruse. The director is famous for having later said that "from the earliest age I have

thought that tlte world we live in betrays us-this thought remains with ne." He used to

speak of his cltaracters as being caught in this betrayal: "lf they llove even a little, they

quickly hit the wall." r(r 11, felt the home was simply too tlarrow a;tlace,yet almost all Japa-

nese gendaigeki fihns dealt with mainly the home, solnething which the director found a

major fault. Perhaps he was influenced in this view by his reading of such novelists as

Slrinrazaki Toson, Tokuda Shusei-whon he wor-rld adaptin [Jntamecl (fu'akure, 1957)-and Hayashi Furniko, a nlunber of whose worls Naruse rrade into movies.

Naruse's mature style was probably rnore formed by the books he read rather than (as it

was with rlost of the other yollug directors at Shochiku) the films he saw. His style, realistic

yet carefully banal and devoted to the ordinary lives of ordinary/ people, was achieved through

sirnplified scripts in which superfluous lines were cut. Location work, which he disliked, was

avoided, 26 were elaborate sets (which he called nuisances); his caurerawork was simple, even

severe. The scripts themselves were usually adaptations from serious books, jun-bungaku.

This econorny would later stand Naruse in good stead with his prodLrceffi (when he went

to work at Toho, his producers praised him for never exceeding the budget), but the earlier

filrns were praised only by 0zu. After seeing NAruse's Pure Loue (Junjo, 1930, n.s.), a filnr

Naruse later thought a presage of his rnature style, Ozn said that soneone who could do that

well on only his second film had real directorial strength.

Kido had also noticed, with disapproval, this affinily between Naruse and 0zu. As he later

told Naruse, he didn't ueed two Ozns. Iu any event, the director's Shochiku days did not long

corttirtue. funong the last of the first groLlp of directors to be taken on, Naruse was the first to

leave. In 1931, fed up, he went to say goodbye to Gosho, the single director, besides Ozu, who

had fought the company 0r'l his behalf. Gosho scolded him, saying he was still young and

that he would never succeed by giving up.

Narttse did not give up. He went to auother studio . ht 1934 he joined the Photo-Chemical

Laboratories (PCL) which later, under the leadership of Mori IwAo, became Toho. Originally

concenred with developiug and printing, PCL was by now producing filrns as well. Here

Naruse fared much better. In his words: "At Shochiku I was ulloueclto direct; at PCL I was

uskecl to direct. A significant difference."r- Working considerations were much less struc-

tured, producers were much closer to directors, And just one year after Shochiku had seeu the

last of Naruse, Kido suffered the embarrassnent of this disnissed director's winning the pres-

tigiorrs KiuemaJumpo first prize with his WtJb, Be Like n Rose (Tsuma yo bara no yoni,

60

Wife, Be Like a 80se,1935, Naruse Mikio, with Chiba Sachiko, Fujiwara Kamatari,

Ito Tomoko.

1935). Naruse's film was also one 0f the first Japanese pictures t0 achieve a long-held Japa-

nese anbition of playing comlnercially (under the title of Kirniko) ut the United States.

Tlre picture came from a shimp a dranta named Tu,o Wittes (Futarizurna; a more accll-

rately descriptive title and one retained for the original release of this film). Naruse himself

adapted the drarna to film. In it, a daughter desires lnarriage but, as her mother has been

deserted by her father, she must find him to get his consent. The girl's father is supposed to

be disLeputably living with a geisha, but when she locates hirn, she discovers that the ex-

geisha is uot only supporting him but also sending money to her and her mother. The ex-

geisha is opposite in all ways from what the daughter had feared and contrasts starkly with

the cold, selfish, poetry-writing intellectual woman whom her father deserted. Two wives-

the one supposedly good is in reality bad, the other supposedly bad is actually good. And the

father, brought back to give his blessing, returns to the good one, leaving the bad one to rue

her fate. It is to the latter that the studio-selected title directs its pointed imperative: Hey, wife.

Be like a rose! The daughter, Kimiko, has learned a lesson about life and she, too, becones a

better sort of wife.

The play from which the film was made, the work of Nakano Minoru, was a shinsei

shirnpa, or "new drama." The melodrama is toned down and the heroines are much more

modern than usual. Kirniko (the daughter) certainly is. She wears the latest Western fashions

of. 1935, walls independently in front of her fiancd rather than respectfully behind, and is

outspoken with her estranged parents. She has what was then called an "American" person-

ality. Yet she is able to sympathizewith the more traditional elements of Japan: she respects

lrer parents and, at the end, defers to her fianc€.

61

Wlren the film opened in New York in 1937, one critic understood it as an example of

nrodern trends in that the heroine is atypical rnodernJapanese girl with astory that unfolds

against a background of the old traditional and the newly Westernized Japan. Unlike

Mizoguchi Kenji's Sisters of the Giort (Gion no kyodai, 1936), the film does not contrast

these two elements at work in sociely so much as it makes a distinction between the modern

(Kimiko) and two aspects of the traditional (the two mothers).

Tradition in its ordinary sense is belittled. Mother's classical poetry is made fun of and

uncle's gidayu bunraku singing frightens his pet birds and rnakes Kimiko giggle. Later dur-

ing kabuki, the father falls asleep to the scandalized irritation of his art-loving wife. At the

sane tirre, however, tradition in its better sense is seen in the generosify of the ex-geisha, the

sincerity of the traditional father, and Kirniko's gradual awakening to the moral worth

around her.

Modernity in this film is consequently not a foil to be encountered but a kind of modish

decoratiou. fui office boy whistles "My Blue Heaven," which is-transition-the very tune

the boyfriend is whistling. Kimiko is a modern funerican-like girl who, initially at any rAte,

competes with her rnan. Nso, she has seen Alerican fihns. This she indicates when they cAn-

rrot get ataxi and she says that she knows how to stop one, that she's seen how it's done irr

the movies. She then steps into the street and repeats Clark Gable's thumb-in-the-air gesture

fronr It Hapltenecl )ne lVight, a filrn released inJapan the year before. (She does not repeat

Claudette Colbert's more successful gambit in that film, showing a bit of ieg. This would

lrave been impossible, even in the rnodernizedTokyo of the time.)

Other lessons Naruse learned from funerican films are evidertt itt the plethora of sourtd

effects (often used as bridges, as in the talkies of Ernst Lubitsch) and the constant use of

background music. Equafly "Anerican" is a super- act:e canera which is always seeking

ways to express itself. One of the most singular exarnples is a very high shot frorn over a wis-

teria trellis, by way of an elaborate aerial dolly, which shows the interiors of several rooms, irr

succession, of Kirniko's house, but has no other justification. There are also numerous dol-

lies in and out which are not used for the emotional emphasis Westerners would expect, but

as ornanentation.

All of this is decidedly unlike the rnature postwar Naruse. Still, there is a moral concern

present in all of his better films of that time (the quality which rnade Shochiku-style come-

dies an impossible genre for hirn) and a talent for simplicity, lending the films their emo-

tion al persuasiveness.

Film critic Iwasaki Akira has said "everyJapanese film shows signs of the director's strug-

gle with his Japaneseness-his identity, his tradition. Apart from the few directors such as

KurosawaardYoshimuralKozaburo] who try to avoid 0r g0 beyond this, there are two who

are the mostJapanese in both the good andbadsenses: Ozu and NarLlse."rs Though Iwasaki

62

did not stipulate what the bad is, Naruse did when he said: "We've continued living a life of

poverty on these small islands . . . our aesthetics reflect this poverty. Plain tastes like green

tea over rice are regarded as authenticallyJapanese and since the people are like this, a film-

maker has to resign himself to the limitations of this way of life. There's no other way to

work."19

Nonetheless, though Naruse would not have expressed it this way, it is only within lirlits

tlrat creative freedom can be found. Further, the Japanese aesthetic has always found this

rewarding-nothing but mud and, consequently, perfect pottery; too poor for furniture, and

so ma, a geometry of space.

Kurosawahu left an account of how Naruse (whose assistant he once was in 1938)

coped with temporal poverty: "His method consists of building one very brief shot on top of

another, but when you look at them all spliced together in the final film, they give the im-

pression of asingle long take. The flow is so magnificent that the splices are invisible. This

flow of short shots that looks calm and ordinary at first glance then reveals itself to be like a

deep river with a quiet surface disguising a fast-raging current underne ath." r0 0kamoto

Kihachi (also a former assistant) tells about Naruse's nakanuki ("cutting out the middle")

technique "where an entire [dialogue] scene is shot with only one person's lines, then the

caneraangle is reversed and the other actor's responses are filmed."rr This frugal method of

work (to be encountered in the West mainly in fihns with smaller budgets) is, as Okamoto

points out, very efficient for the director and his crew but terrible for the actors. Even Ozu,

often cavalier about his actors, usually filmed his dialogue scenes as written, changing the

catneraposition for each actor as the lines were spoken.

Such a technique rnight be likened to the attitude of traditionalJapanese craftsmen: the

caryenter observes the grain of the wood, the rnason, the texture of the stone, and both work-

ing swiftly and econornically with few tools and much skill.

One of the attributes of this attitude is also a tenet of the aesthetic tradition, something

which lwasaki recognized when he said that "Naruse Mikio, in both personal ternperaneut

arrd artrstic vision, is totally and purely monl n0 au,are, the essence of Japanese tradition,

tlre mostJapanese element of Japaneseness." 12

This much rnisunderstood if venerable quality of mono n0 aware was perhaps first dis-

cussed in the work of Ki no Tsurayuki, a tenth-century theorizer of poetry, andis later men-

tioned fourteen times in flie Tnle of Genji, and to be evoked many times since then. There

have also been many attempts at definition. All are agreed that m0n0 n0 aware connotes a

kind of contented resignation, an observance of the way things are and a willingness to go

along with them. It advocates experiencing the basic nature of existence, savoring the

conrforts of being in harmony with the cycles of the universe , an acceptance of adversity, and

an appreciation of the inevitable.

63

Tlre novelist Kawabata Yasunari has been called the purest exponent of nono n0 aware

in modernJapanese fiction, just as Naruse has inJapanese filur. The director, in fact, worked

ofterr with the novelist. Kawabata is listed as "script superuisor" on Repnsl (Meshi, 1951),

though it was based 0n a Hayashi Fumiko novel. Naruse adapted three of Kawabata's works:

Ihree Sisters uitlt tl,[aiclen Hecn'ts (Otomegokoro sannin shimai, I93), Dnncirtg Girl (Mai-

lrinre, IgSt), and Sounds of the l'lountain (Yama no 0t0, 1954). All are conternporary,

all are to solre degree moderuist, and all arel in their own *ny, deeply conseruative in

essence-n0n0-r10- aware- esque 0euvres.

Perhaps it is this combination of the contemporary with the conventioual, rnodern frost-

ing on the traditional cake, that appealed to the appetites of the 1935 audience and which

won Naruse his coveted KinemaJumpo prize. The additions from the West are apparent, and

retentions from the East are there to be discovered.

THE NEW JIDAIGEKI: |TAMl, INACAKI, lTO, AND YAMANAKA SADAO

fluring the same period that the gendaigeki was being developed from, among other

lJ things, the shimpa, the new jidaigeki was being fashioned from the old kabuki-based

kfuha. fuid just as the Shochiku contemporary-life films were much indebted to the

shingeki, so the impetus for the new period-film was yet another recent theatrical form-the

shinkokugeki,or "new national drana." When the shinkokugeki appearcd in I9I7 and fea-

tured a llore literal violence in substitr-rte for the dancelike duels of the (vuha, this, itt turu,

created in the jidaigeki a kind of realism new toJapanese period-drarna.

One of the first of these new iidaigeki, based on apopular shinkokugeki play, The Purple

Hood; Woodblock Artist (Murasaki zukin: Ukiyoe-shi, 1923, n.s.), wffi important itt deter-

mining the future of the genre. The fihn was directed by Makino Shozo, who had by ltow

broken with Onoe Matsunosuke and founded Makino Motion Pictures, aud was written by

Suzukita Rokuhei, a young shingeki director and playwright whose subsequent scripts wor-rld

come to define the period-films of the 1920s. Sr-rzukita's major contribution to the genre was

the application of what he called "realist" principles to period-films: "l gave Makino a script

filled with real violence, real combat scenes, thoroughly realistic. He said it would have to be

done with real weapons . . . what happiness I felt. Several of the actors were actually hurt by

the flailing swords." r'1 Equally inspired by funerican action films and by such swashbuckling

local novelists as NakazaloKarzan and Hasegawashin, the Suzukita scripts, and the subse-

quent fihns of both the Makinos-Shozo and his son, Masahiro-were s00n popular.

It was the apparent, if selective, rcalism that probably appealed to audiences. And realistic

tlrese films appeared, atleast by cornparison with earlier period-films. Ouoe certainly had not

depicted such desperate emotions as are to be found in these new hgless-all deternined

64

jaws and defiantgazes. Perhaps this was because he had come from kabuki while these new

heroes were drawn from the illustrations in popular novels. None of the sources of the new

period-film had anything to do with any other kind of literature. It is estimated that sone

seventy percent of these films drew their ideas from sefializations in newspapen and rnagzines.

The placement of the actors (as distinct from their acting) was, however, still stage-

oriented. Makino'sTlte Lojt6sl Fort1,-Set,ut Ronirt; A True Accounl (Chukon giretsu: jitsu-

roku chushingura, 1928), a portion of which still exists, indicates the refonns he intended.

The acting style was "realistic," that is, the gesticulation was toned down and even the oyama

were persuaded to curb their more extreme mannerisns. Stagelike Mo-dimensionality was

often abandoned, and some use was made of depth, particularly dr-uing the various proces-

sions, arrivals, and evacuations which stud the story. At the same time, Makino ("the D. W.

Griffith of Japan") retained the dancelike patterns of the shinkokugeki (referred to as

"shimpa with swords") with heavily and unrealistically choreographed blocking of action.

This combination of "realistic ernotion" and forn alized dueling distinguished the genre

througlr its entire career: orle may compare the period-films of Ito Daisuke , Yantanaka

Sadao, and Kurosawa Akira and find them, in this respect, sirnilar. One remembers an earlier

ideal, u,akon ),lsai ("Japanese spirit, Western culture"), a coucept which continued to

ernerge during the Showaera, including this new kind of hero who was very much his own

individual but was restrained by the national group-choreography irnposed upon him.

This new hero was played by such popular period-film actors as Tsukigata Ryunosuke,

Kataoka Chiezo,Okochi Denjiro, Hayashi Chojiro (later to become even more famous as

Hasegawa Kazno), and the most popular of them aIl, Bando Tsurnasaburo. These were

young, streetwise toughs who had about them nothing of the noble warrior as portrayed by

Onoe. The sword fights of the new genre, as choreographed by Bansho Karnmori, were

lreroic, but the heroism was that of the intrepid fighter of popular fiction: fast and calcr.rlated.

Nso, as the director MasurnunYuuzo has stated, from the 1920s 0n, some directors self-

consciously set out to study popular literary techniques, after which they incorporated their

owr findings. He nentions kodnn-with its abbreviated statelnents, curt dialogue , andswift

shifts of scene -astorytelling

fonnat which exerted a najor influence 0n the structure of these

new jidaigeki. The restrained kodan narrator was not, however, emulated. Instead, the acting

consisted of lots of facial gestures plus influences from the fair and high-minded Williarn S.

Haft, and the daring and insouciant Douglas Fairbanks. This new sword-fighting samurai

was thus an individual, even a nonconformist, a kind of kirnonoed cowboy-as epitornized

by Mifune Toshiro in one of his later appeannces, in Kuros awaAkira's Yojimbo (1961).

Wlren the young Bando began playing this kind of hero tn 1924, the popular image of

tlre young rnasterless samurai (ronin) as an intrepid but suffering rebel quickly became

established. This Vpe has been identified as the tatel,aku, a tenn taken from kabuki to

ri

TI

65

characterizeidealized sallurai, warriors who are not only victorious in fights but also saga-

ciotts men, with strong wills and a determination to persevere. This new hero, lrowever, wffi

also often dispossessed. Though brave and occasionally victorious, lre had begun to doubt the

idealized code of conduct which had created hirn.

In the 1930s, another scriptwriter, Miurura Shirltaro, extended the self-conscions tateyaku

cltaracter. His heros were malcontents in an age of repression. Though Mimura favored the

Edo period as his setting, his screenplays also reflected the results of the so-called Showa

"Restoration" (1933-t940), that period during which govenlmental repression began to

push back Taisho "dern0crac.y."

While the traditional-minded (including those in the govemment) criticized and eventu-

ally censored or banned works featuring the antisocial heros of Mimura and others, figures

of this sort obviously spoke to the larger audience. The populariff of the rtew jidaigeki was

such that the hero's role grew to encompass not only sarnurai and ronin, but also itinerant

garnblers (presumed the early ancestor of the pLesent dayJ,akuzo,Japanese organized gang-

sters) and the various hoodlums who loitered outside society. The post-World War II gang

gerlre, one which coutinues even now on television and iu the films of Kitano Takeslri,

among othem, has its roots in the jidaigeki of the 1920s and 30s.

Early ronin, those in Makino Shozo'sTlte Lol,al Fort.),-Set,en Rlrtin (1912), for example,

were bound by ar,vful oaths to their former lords. But the ronin in the films of the later 1920s

were loyal to no one. Not only did they lack feudal faith, they seemed to lack any faith at all.

Irrdeed, "nihilistic" was a term applied to )rochi (1925), written by Sr-rzukita, directed by

Futagawa Buntaro, and starriug Bando. In this filrn the ronin-one man against a whole

gang of samurai-lives a misunderstood [ife. To his constant qLlery as to whether there is

justice in this world, the answer is always no. In fact, titles appear at the beginning and end

of the film asserting that "there is no justice, society judges only by appearances, it is a world

of lies." This rrray have reflected the view that in turbulent modern Japan, an eqllally rnind-

less authori tari an gove rnment was again emergi n g.

Tlre multipart The Street of Masterless Sarnurni (Ronin -gai, 1928-29, u.s.), directed by

Makino Masahiro, Shozo's solt, and scripted by Yarn agami Itaro, was about two men who

questioned the feudal code. Itwent so far that, even though it won the KinemaJumpo award

for 1928, it was much cut before release. Nonetheless, it proved of lasting influence on the

work of Yamanaka, Kurosawa,Kobayashi, andlater filmmakers. The film was remade (sight

unseen, though the ortginal scenario exists) by Kuroki Kazuo in 1990, and the original

director is listed in the credits as advisor.

fuiotlrer filrn so outspoken that it ran into trouble was Ito Daisuke's flIart-Slnshing,

Horse-Piercing Sutord (Zanjinzanba ken, 1929, n.s.). Ayoung sarnLuai is hunting for his

fatlrer's murdere t-a colnmon enough opening to the ordinary historical film. But, unlike

66

The Street of Masterless Samurai,

1928-29, Makino Masahiro, withMinami Komei

Ma n-Sl a sh i ng, H orse-Pi erci ng Sword,

1929, lto Daisuke, with Tsukigata

Ryunosuke, Amano Jun'ichi

the lypical hero who always battles his way to the top, this samurai meets only reversals.

Eventually, in order to live, he must steal from the farmers, who are just as p00r as he is.

When he learns that the reason for their poverty is the oppression 0f the local government, he

joins them in their revolt, an actftrrther motivated by his discovery that his father's killer is

the local overlord.

Itami Mansaku further enlarged the role of the period-protagonist. A boyhood friend of

Ito Daisuke, he later, along with lnagaki Hiroshi, became assistant to the older director.

Itami's first films were for Kataoka Chiezo, who not only owned his own production com-

pany, but was an actor as well, capable of projecting the type of hero the new jidaigeki

needed. He was heroic without being a superman; he portrayed an ordinary person who hup-

pened to do the right thing at the right tirne. For him, Itami created a series of ironic and

sometimes satirical historical fihns.

{-)

:_

67

Peerless Patriot (Kokushi muso, aka The Unrivaled Hero, aka A Drearny Patriot, 1932)

was a typical film with this new hero. In the existing twenty-one minutes, a decidedly irrever-

ent young swordslnan impersonates his high-bom samllrai fencing teacher. The situation

was developed in a nallner which ridiculed many of the feudal traditions, particularly those

which had survived in modern Japan. That the imposter could not be distinguished frorn the

lordlike teacher and bested hirn in a parody finale openly questioned basic feudal precedents.

Itarni furthered his radical humanization of the sanluai in lttkita Akanishi (Akanishi

Kakita, 1936). In this adaptation of a Shiga Naoya story, the good-hearted hero joins other

like-minded sarnurai to defeat the bad retainers who surround an essentially stupid lord.

Itami Juzo, the director's son (who preserved this film and even made an English-titled

print), maintained that the film was a political allegory. The bad retainers represented the

militaristic governmeut, and the intellectually challenged lord, the emperor. Good-hearted

sanlluai Akanishi cleared the way for those later, postwar heroes who s0 rcsemble him. When

Kurosawa's "yojimbo" first appears on the screen, swinging his shor-rlders in that characteris-

tic uranner, he is walking straight out of this tradition.

Along with new dramaturgy and charactenzatton came new cinematic techuiques. They

exernplified the iconoclastic intentions of the uew jidaigeki. Itarni wrote (bravely, in wartiure

1940) that "the first thing we learned frorn funerican movies was afast-paced lifesffle . . . the

next, a lively lnauuer and a readiness to take decisive action . . . we learned to take an affft-

rnative, pluposeftrl, sonetimes even combative attitude toward [ife."r*

In 1928, Itami, in collaboration with Inagaki Hiroslti, rnade Tenkct Taiheiki (1928) one

of tlre first matntabi ("drifters") movies. The dialogue titles used colloquial speeclt, aud the

heroes were contemporary with their audience. It was Inagaki who regarded the jidaigeki as

68

>I

=l

Kakita Akanishi,1936, ltami Mansaku, with Sugiyama Shosaku, Kataoka Chiezo

"chommage 0 tsuketn gendnigeki fgendaigeki with a sarrurai topknot]).":s He conse-

quently availedhimself of all the new cinerlatic techniques coming frorn the West as had his

rnentor, Ito Daisuke (often called "ldo Daisuki" ["] Love Pan-Shots"] on the set because of

his predilection for the latest irnported cinernatic sffles).

Nonetheless, much of the dramaturgy of the traditional drama was somehow retained in

jidaigeki. This was particularly evident in the sword-fight scenes, choreographed with details

showu in sudden close-up: visual compositions which held the eye. Like the traditional prints

upon which they were sometimes based, these compositions dramatized scene and encapsu-

lated story. furd, as in the traditional drana,one scene followed the other, impelled not so

rtruch by storyline as by aesthetic spectacle. As Donald Kiriharahu noted: iu, say, Tlte Recl

Bat (Beni komori, 193D by Tanaka Tsuruhiko, all that flashy tracking, panning, spinning,

canting, and fast cutting "is there for just that reason: flash,"16

This combination-guided narrative and unleashed spectacle-is seen at its most spec-

tacular in the films of Ito Daisuke.InJirokichi, the Rat Kd (}atsuraeJirokichi goshi, I93I),

Okochi Denjiro, a Robin Hood-like robber ("a life rich in nothingness" says one of the

titles), has a series of adventures which lead to a colupletely decorative finale. Festival

lanterns in one corlpositionally perfect tableau after another stud the sequence, culminating

in, not drarnatic revelation, but aesthetic enjoyrnent.

A fine example of Ito's prowess with regard to the pictoLial is seen in Diarl, of Chuji's

Trcn,els (Chuji tabi nikki, 1927), a film thought entirely lost until part of it (one hour and

thirty-six ntinutes) was discovered in IggL Its gambler-hero (Okochi Denjiro), predecessor

of rnodern ;lakuza-movie heroes, is caught in the perceived opposition between giri and

rtirtjo, the traditional conflict between duty to society and duff to oneself, rendered in terrls

easily recognized by the audieuce.

Diary of Chuji's Travels, 1927 ,lto Daisuke, with 0kochi Denjiro

69

Much of the film looks like a moderll-specifically Anerican-movie. Yet it often

segues into a decidedly Japanese sensibiliff. The dialogue scelres are in mediurn close-up,

tlrere are two shots with a forty-five degree shift of viewpoint, and eyelines follow interna-

tional standards. Yet, in the sequence at the sakd brewery, we follow a downward pan from

darkness to patches of sunlight, beams, ropes, and finally to the men manning the works.

A written title appears in this initial darkness and contiuues all the way through the pan-in effect tuming the screen into a calligraphy surface, a two-dimensional page.

The following sequence, in the sakd brewery yard, isJapanese aesthetic bravura. The area

is littered with enormous erlpty barrels, some on their sides, and so the scene is filled with

circles. Shot after shot emphasizes ceaselessly the resulting circular cornpositions. A girl walt-

ders in circles; children play circular games: the desigu has become the story. fuld during the

remainder of the film, sceues return to the compositions of this sequence, reminding us of it.

The heroine goes to sit in the circle of a big, empty vat; later, children fonn a dancing circle

around the distraught samluai hero.

Such appareut design-as-narrative reminds one of traditional printmakers, particularly

Hokusai, and brings to mind the printmaker's insistence that visual schernes can take the

place of plot. We can readily understand the role that traditional composition plays in Japa-

nese cirterna. At the same time, decorating this pictorial balance are details of a quotidian

realisnt. One of Ito's characters is shown realistically brushing his teeth, realistically spitting.

After all, the director had originally been a scripter for 0sanai Kaoru, one of the first "rcalistic"

shingeki authors.

The joining of concern for aesthetic design and realistic ("undesigned") acting in Ito's

film is evident in the stylization of the sword fights which ornarnent the storyline. These are

striking combinations of rlovements, both those of the actors and those of the carrera. Long,

raciug dollies, flashpans all over the place, close-ups of the various deaths, and lots of

shinkokugeki extras scampering abor-rt. The last of these fights concludes with a slow marclr

through the forest, the survivors bearing the fatallvwounded Chuji through the (blue-tinted)

night, the water glistening, the leaves softly rnoving. This procession is far more beautiful

than it need be and it is beautiful for its own sake: an aesthetic diqllay which enhances the

charm and pathetic vulnerabilit,v of our dying hero.

Set in contrast to this is the finale sequeuce, in which the hero in his hidden fortress

holds a long dialogue through which the rnysteries of the plot are urlraveled (a conclusion

typical of this genre), while elsewhere the authorities search for him. After the open-air

excitement of the fight, and the nocturual beauf,v of the journey, the close-ups are now tight.

A gun is produced to ward off the attackers who have forced opeu the door; we tunr and look

at the dying hero, his breath visible in the cold. All the exhilarating cltoreography has

brought him to this, a close-up which chronicles his last mornent. He sililes acceptingly-

70

this is what the feudal world has done to hirn and he (a modern man in Edo times) smiles.

The End.

Perhaps the finest of the directors of the new jidaigeki was YatnanakaSadao, though, dying

at twenty-nine, he made the fewest films. He cornpleted twenty-three pictures in seven years,

only tlrree of which have been preserued.Yananaka's ambition was to further modernize the

period picture. Such modernizationwas the stated rnanifesto of a group of eight yolurg Japa-

nese filmrlakers who called themselves the Narutaki-gumi lNarutaki gang], after the area

in Kyoto where they lived and where they jointly wrote under the collective pseudonym of

Kimpachi Kaj twara.

Yananaka, who worked with the Nikkatsu studios, was not interested in a nihilistic hero

nor in a savior of the conmon nau. Rather, he wanted "t0 shoot a jidaigeki like a

gendaigeki," rT the kind of picture that Inagaki called contemporary drama with a topknot.

The differences belween Yantanakaand the more representative Itauri can be seen in a

comparison of their separate versions of the same story. hr 1935, they both rnade a film

abotrt Kunisada Chuji. Itarni's was Clttqi Xlakes u IVumeJbr Hirnself (Chuji uridasu,1935,

n.s.) and Yamanaka's was simply Chtqi Ktnisnch (Kunisada Chujt, 1935, n.s.). The former

picture was oriented toward social criticism and dealt only with the young Chuji after he had

abarrdoned famring because of oppressive taxes and a despotic government. That a farmer

lrad tumed into a gambler was the concem of the picture. Yarnanaka, 0n the other hand,

was interested only in character. His Chuji, under an obligation to a man who hid him from

tlre authorities, must kill to pay back his moral debt. This rloral dilemrna was used to create

an atrlosphere. Yamanaka was not specifically concemed with social criticism but with

emotional problems and the way in which they reflect character.

Humanity and Paper Balloons, 1937,

Yamanaka Sadao, with Suketakaya

Sukezo, Kawarazaki Chojuro, Naka-

mura Gan'emon.

71

Yamanaka's finest film was his last, Humani4, nnt, Paper Balloorzs (Ninjo kamifttsen,

1937). In the opening seqllence, a former samurai has committed suicide. His neighbon talk

abor,rt the death and one says: "But he hr,urg himself, like a rnerchant. Where was the man's

spirit of bushido? Why didn't he disembowel himself like a real samluai?" To which another

replies: "Because he no longer had a sword-he sold it the other day for rice." This is the

fanriliar death-theme opening, so typical of the conventional period-drarna, with its refer-

ence to bushido, "way of the sallurai." But there is an enormous difference. In the corlven-

tional product, the hero would have corne to a glorious end. Not so, however, in tltis critical,

contemplative, and contemporary film. The sword, which supposedly syrnbolizes asamurai's

life, has been sold so that the samurai, ironically enor-rgh, might live.

Sato Tadao has said that this film is "a consistent endeavor to shatter old stereotvpes."rs

The characters speak modern Japanese instead of the thees and thous of sword-fight melo-

dramas; the samurai behavior is no longer ritually stylized; there are no conventional gener-

alizations, and those that do appear arc used for ironic purposes. The result is a freshness,

a freedom, in which serious problems are treated lightly.

In tlre first of Yamanaka's surviving filrls, The Milliln Rlts ps1 (Tange sazen yowa:

lryakuman ryo no tsubo ,1935), the hero is a charnbara (sword-fighting) character as famous

as Kunisada Chuji. Tange Sazen is rneant to be a superhero despite his missing eye and

lopped-off arrn. Here, as played by Okochi Denjiro, however, he is a shambling swordsrnan,

slow to think things through and incorrigibly lazy.

Yamanaka's hero does not realize lust where the priceless pot is, thouglt this has been

obvious to the spectator since the beginning of the film, and his atternpts to find it are conse-

quently amusing. Like Kurosawa's Sanjuro (Tsubaki Sanjuro, 1962), a picture iu many

ways indebted to this Yamanaka film, he is limited as well as skillful, and therefore com-

pletely human. Such was not Nikkatsu's original intention,Tlte Million RJ,o Potwas to have

been a fihn by Ito Daisuke, who would have created a much morc serious and heroic picture

had he not left the company to go to Dai

Ichi Eig a. Yantanaka was a very different

director frorn Ito.

The second of Yamanaka's suliving

filrns is the Nikkatsu feature, Soshu,n

Kochil,nnta (Kochiy an)a Soshun, 1936) .

Written by Mitsurnura Shintaro, it was

originally conceived as a period-rnelo-

drama, after a kabuki play by Kawatake

Mokuami. In the rewriting and directing,

Yatnanaka changed the undenuorld thugs

72

Million Ryo Money Pot, 1935, Yamanaka Sadao, with0kochi Denjiro (right)

*''t

into warm-hearted, good-natured people. He did the same thing to Mitsunura's kabuki-

based script for Humaniff and Paper Balloons. The original version has intrepid villains

fighting each other, but in the finished fihn there is little of such action: the people arc quite

ordinary , rncapable of such heroic resolve. Anong the reasons Yarn anakaso humanized his

scripts at the very time when there was a governmental call for heroics is that he valued

ninjo rather than giri, personal rather than institutionalized feelings.

Irr Yananaka's last scenario, Sono Zen1,6 (I93D, which he did not live to direct, ninjo

becomes something like bravery. A family running a Kyoto inn during the Meiji "revolution"

is caught in the midst of the Shinsengurni uproar. The Shinsenguni, a pro-government

army usually portrayed as a benevolent band of Boy Scouts, is here depicted as something

approaching the Red Guard. \Yhen one considers the date of the work, one realizes what

Yamanaka is doing. The wonder is that he could have gotten away with it-implicitly com-

paring a violent and destructive Shinsengllmi with a violent and destructive contemporary

Japanese army. Maybe he did not get awary with it after all. He was drafted shortly after.

Yatnanaka had much in comrnon with )zu, one of his closest friends. Both were what we

would now call liberals, both inculcated unpopular truths, and both used what we now

recognize as minimalist techniques. They stripped sets of all but essentials; they lirnited

gestures; they expressed ideas indirectly through jokes, asides, and short, suggestive

conversations. Like 0m, the younger director began early on gathering about him actors

witlr whom he could work. Though Yananaka used such stars as fu'ashi Kanjuro and 0kochi

Denjiro, he also cultivated his owr grollp. In his later films, he used members of the Zensen-

za,the Progressive Theater, in addition to such new actors as the nowfamous HaraSetsuko,

who appears in Soshttn Kochil,cunn.

Tlre actiug in both Soshun Kochil,a,mo and in Humaritl, ancl Paper Bctlloorzs is note-

worthy. There is an ensemble quality which is rare on the Japanese screell and was only

dtrplicated in such perfect form in Kurosawa's later fihns, such u The Louter Depths (Don-

zoko, 1957). In Yamanaka's fihns, there is also a reliance Lrpon performance which is rare in

Japartese fihns of the 1930s. For example, in Soshun Kochil,atna, the entire sequence in

wlrich two of the minor characters attend an auction consists of a medium shot of the two

aloue. We never see the rest of the crowd, and we have no idea what they are bidding for, but

the ensemble acting, one actor playing off the other, allows us to follow the action with inter-

est and amusement.

Equally ntinimal arc the interiors, often filrned from slightlv below (just as Ozu's films

were being shot), showirrg lirnited period-detail as well as ceilings, Story structure is also kept

to what is necessary, and only that. Series of scenes (younger brother in a fight, elder sister irr

trouble, complications over afake sword) are kept separate, with manypulposeful ellipses in

the story. In one such scene, the younger brother takes his knife and creeps into the house of

73

one 0f the bad men. The carnera stays outside the closed shoji door. We hear voices and see

shadows against the paper panes. There is a glimpse of the larife silhouetted. The light is

suddenly extinguished. We hear an exclanation. That is end of the sequence. We are never

directly told the outcome (though we learn it from the context of the rest of the film), nor

what it might mean.

Plot in its causal sense is missing, but all the story strands are forcibly pulled together in

the action-filled finale dr-rring which repressed anger erupts and the full panoply of cham-

baraswordplay is displayed. The whole town, all those sets we have been obliquely viewing, is

rlow used as the men battle up and down the narrow alleys. Though the pace is very fast, the

editing never loses us. From a narrowly frarned alley we are turned forty-five degrees to a

bridge crossing a ditch, a perspective that affords a view of three different fights (on three

different bridges) going on in town. In the end, the rnain ruffian dies a samLlrai's death as

he allows the unhappy youl'rger brother to escape.

Action leads to resolution, though that is not its only plupose in the film. This violence

(like so rnuch Japanese blood-letting) is an aesthetic spectacle. The patterns of disorder are

composed into corrpositions which filter the excitement and render beauty frorl chaos. By

simplifying action, reducing it to its individual elernents, excitement may not be enhanced,

but appreciation is.

We recognize this forced simplicify in the concluding night sequences. This is expression-

ism (of which nore will be said later), the nominally Gerrnan style for indicating a single

frame of rnind thror-rgh everything the artist shols. By the 1930s, the sffle had been com-

pletely Japanified. Expressionisll n0 longer contained any derange d Doctor Caligari con-

notatious and was used, instead, as one rrore element of a complete presentation-the rnind

of the viewer rnade visible.

There are nauy other Western influences in the work of YarnanAka, particularly in storyr

development. Hasumi Shigehiko has discovered elernents from an fulerican comedy LaclJ,

and Gent (1932) by Stephen Roberts in The fulillion RJ,o Pot, and sections of Jacques Fe.v-

der's Pension fulintosu (1934) in the final shots of Hurnnnitl' ancl Paper Bctlloons. Yet

there is also ntuch that indicates earlier Japanese rnodels. For example, Yarnanaka uses a

narration technique, taken from both kodan and the balladlike ncmiu,abt,tsbi, where the

authoritative voice, at first anonymous, is later revealed as a character in a subsequent seg-

tnent. The first scene of Tlte \L[illion RJ,o Pot is a castle, whole and in some detail, which we

exanrine as avoice begins the tale. When the director finally cr,rts inside the castle, the voice

is revealed as that of a retainer telling the daimyo the secret of the pot.

At the sane time sorne of the dialogue might have come out of Lubitsch. Bride turns to

gr00n and says: "That old pot is going to look pretty strange to our wedding guests," a

remark which sets the desirable container 0n its adventures, just as firmly as the loss of the

74

lottery-ticket-carrying coatsends that garnent on its journeys in Rend Clair's Le Million, a

I93t film that was enormously popular in Japan. Like the Clair film, this Yarn anakapiece is

also conceived as an operetta. Therearefestival dances and songs-'Just apinwheel turning

in the wind" sings the entertainer heroine, presunably of herself.

There is also much ridicule of the foolish paraphe rnalia of the old-fashioned kfuha plot,

often concemed with military secrets. One such secret is hidden in a pot, hence its apparent

value. The samurai searching for the important container says that all the fuss "makes it

sound like a vendetta," a line repeated twice in the fihn, lest differences from ordinary period

fihns not be noted by the viewer.

fuid since the ordinary period picture is about decision and intrepid action, we have

Yantanaka's hero absolutely reftrsing to do something and in the next scene doing it. This

adamant refusal-followed by an inexplicable revemal indicating something less than a res-

olutely courageous decision-is used on three different occasions in the fihn, attesting to its

satirical usefulness. The film is, in effect, a loving parody of the charnbara.That Kurosawa

learned nuch from this film is evident in TIte Hidden Fortress (Kakuishi toride n0 san

akunin, 1958),wheretheadventuresof thegoldbarsparallel thoseof themissingpot.

Technically, Yamanaka melded native and foreign influences into a most persuasive

style. In speaking about his technique he said that once he found where to put his camera,

his problerl was solved. "As regards this positiorr," he added, "l do the reverse of what

Pudovkitt taught." re (What Pudovkin taught was that montage was "the highest form of

editing . . . the foundation of fihn art.") r0 Yamanaka,like mostJapanese directom, edited rel-

atively little, at least in comparison with the Russians. Editing usually simply involves

ddcotrpage, nothing like what Pudovkiu rlearlt by rlontage. Yan.nrnka's concept of space

was different, hence the prime irnportance of the camera position, his vantage point.

Irt Humattitj, ancl Pnper Bctlloonr, Yamanaka presents a contrast of nvo areas of

space-the only ones shown. One is the world inside the gates of a tenernent quarter, the

other is the world outside thern. The difference between these worlds, the dernonstration of

tlreir separateness, is emph uized in both the opening and closing sequences. In the first, the

gates are closed and the residents confined while the authorities investigate asuicide. In the

last, the gates Are again closed, this time to check the deaths of the hero and his wife. This

reticulation of space -a network of scenes describing a specific arca-rs fitting in other

tlran cinematic terms. The film is based on lhtmiJ,ui Shirtzo, a Mokuarni kabuki drama

that, like most in its geltre, is geornetrical in its use of space.

The concem for the concepts of inside and outside is also a very/ Japanese one. t-ichi

(inside) and,soto (outside) are considered much rnore defining, and lirniting, than they are

in tlre West. There is also aJapanese assumption that the fonner is safe and the latter is

not. The assumption therefore fittingly delineates a story where the outside is a repressive

7t

governmental are distinguished by its lack of ninjo, the quality of human feeling so touch-

ingly depicted inside the tenement, the closed quarter.

In the second sequence of the film -a

lane outside the tenernent-we find that the

carnerais placed level with the human eye and that all shots are economically edited alonga

single axis. In this, Yamanaka was certainly influenced by Ozu. Though there are uides dur-

ing tlre length of this sequence (one of thern is to introduce Unno, the masterless-s amurai

lrero of the film), in the main the camenplacement of each scene during the progress along

the alley varies not at all-the angle coinciding with the axis.

This way of working is not often seen in funerican or European films of the period

because these scenes could be said t0 "not match," also because their sequence violates one

of the assumptions of international cinema style, namely, that a film progresses by opposing

shots. Shots which are compositionally sirnilar are thought to confuse, though this

Yantanaka sequence is proof that this is not necessarily so. The theory about opposing shots

seems to be based upon a Western assumption that narrative can proceed only through con-

flict and confrontation, compositionally as well as otheruise. The idea of anarratleproceed-

ing through harmony and similarity, not often encoLlntered in Western cinema, is seen

again and again in Japanese movies.

Wlrat this sequence does provide, and this would seem to be Yantanaka's concem, is a

literal depiction of the alley. 0nce we have been led so carefully along it, we become thor-

oughly familiar with it, and we believe in it. One is reminded of the old Japanese studio rule

that in the initial seven cuts the whole house, or main location, rnust be established. Such

ritualized rules werc comrnonly disregarded when the exigencies of production took over, but

itt some pictures, such as those of Yamanaka, something like the old rules prevailed, and

overall concepts as to how space was to be depicted remained.

In showing us the tenernent alley, the director moves along its length, shot after shot. A

precise rendering 0f the street is given, abelievable accounting of its space, alogical intro-

duction of the characters, and the setting up of half of the spatial rnetaphor. This is the

closed and crowded alley itself which, though invaded by officials from time to time, is really

the safer part of the world.

When the outside world (the towrr outside the tenement district) is deline ated, we are

given no such spatial grounding. We do not larow the location of the pawnbroker's house in

relation to our alley, nor the location of the bridge where one of the main characters will be

killed. The temple gate, the fairground, all those "outside" locAtions are separate, distinct,

cut off from each other. They lack the continuity of the tenenent, which we were showrr

whole and complete. Consequently, it is the tenement which feels safe, like home, and it is

tlre outside which is dangerous, or alien. "spatially, Yam anaka-having set up this opposi-

tion of spaces, having fully reticulated one and left the other carefully and threateningly

76

un reticu I ated-h as cre ated for hi mse lf a bipolar structur€. "'l I

Among these new iidaigeki, these "gendaigeki with toplarots," it was commonly thought

tlrat Inagaki Hiroshi's worls were sentimental but lyrical,that Itani Manuaku's were intel-

lectual but ironic, and that Yantanaka's, with their minimal elegance and beautifully flow-

ing rhythms, were tn aclass all by therlselves-the highest. It is also conceded that with his

early death (sent to the front as a common private, he died of dysentrry) Japanese cinerna

lost one of its finest directors.

NIKKATSU AND rHE SHTMPA: |I|TOCUCHl KENJI

Jhough the lcyuha had been effectively transforrned into sonething more complicated,

I shimpa-based fihns continued (and indeed still continue today in the daytime serials of

contemp orary television) in their established pattern. Nevertheless, some changes were tak-

ing place.

Nikkatsu, home of the shimpa-film, allowed Suzuki Kensaku to make a more involved

kind of dram a rn Human Sffirnry (Ningen ku, aka Human fuiguish , 1923, n.s.), a multi-

stranded story, with nocturnal photography, dialogue titles, faster editing, and a kind of real-

isrn: since the film was about the hungry poor, Yamamoto Kaichi, the leading actor, was not

permitted to eat before and during his performance.

Murata Minoru, who had directed Souls 0?t the Road,, left Shochiku and went to

Nikkatsu, where, in 1924, he made Seisakub Wtfe (Seisaku no tsuna, n.s.), the first of

several "rrew style" fihls. In it a yoLlng wife, unable to tolerate her husband's retlun to the

Russo-Japanese front, deliberately blinds hirn. After prison she returns to her sightless mate,

begs lris forgiveness, and drowns herself. When Seisaku learns this, he forgives her, then

jumps in after her.

This was all very shirnpa-like, but there were differences. For one thing, the unhappy wife

was played not by aman but by one of the firstJapanese actresses, Urabe Kumeko, an ama-

teur shortly to become astar. Here, too, was a heroine who was active and forceful , rf tn a

subversive manner. Nso, since the story is that of asoldier about to go to the front to fulfill

his sacred duff to the divine enperor, the picture would become, in the eyes of some critics,

one of the first antiwar films.

To create this rnovie, Murata used what he called "symbolic photographicisln," a realism

in wlrich all the characters were lifelike, yet their actions had symbolic, ahnost allegorical

meanings. In her final sequence, for example, Seisaku's wife is shown, or rather displayed,

bound in fetters-both a real character and an abstract symbol. That this particular irnage

had been borrowed from Karl Heinz Martin's fihn Von Morgens bis Mitternacht (1920),

and would again be borrowed for the final scene of Kinu gasa Teinosuke's Crossroads

77

(Jnjiro, 1928), did not affect its usefulness. Whether or not nuch of the allegorical message

was appreciable on the screeu, the intentions were progressive. Masurrura Yasuzo has said

that cinematic psychological realisrn in Japanese cinema had its origins in this Murata filur,

as well as iu TanakaEizo's The $,01'a Collnr Shop, adding that "it strikes me as nore than

coincidence that the main characters in these realistic films were wolnen.".il

0tre of the results of Seisaku's Wife was more real females playing worrerl on the screen.

The oyama ltad by now all but disappeared, and actresses were becorning poplrlar. Among

these were Umemura Yoko, Sawamura Haruko (who had appeared in Souls on the RouA

attd-most popular of all-Kurishima Sumiko, whose photographs were best-sellers.

Perhaps consequently, nore womeu were going to the movies, and this meant a new audience

to be satisfied. Shortly, a separate genre evolved, one which was loosely called the "wolrelt's

picture," perhaps to differentiate it from meu's pictures, the jidaigeki.

Anong the new directors enlisted for the newproduct was Mizoguchi Kenji, who has said

that "when I was working for Nikkatsu, the company already had Murata Miuoru naking

films featuring heroes, so for balance they rnade me do films featuring heroines. Nso, I'nr

very quarrelsome, and so when I work there is always the possibiliry of a fight, but I can't

very well slug an acffess." i.i

Mizoguchi rnade over eighty-five films frorn his first in 1922 to the yeff of his death in

1957 . So many arc about women that this is often seen as the director's preferred subject

rtratter. Indeed, the Japanese caII Mizoguchi a "feminist," though in Japanese the term

means not one who believes in wornen's rights but rnerely one who likes and coucems him-

self with womeu-by extension, a womanizer rnight be called a feminist in Japan.

There are other reasons, of course, for Mizoguchi's rnaking the kinds of film he did. One

was studio practice. Shochiku's Kanatastudio was emphasizing a shot-by-shot construction,

and it was frorn this that Ozn, for exarnple, derived his sfyle. Nikkatsu, 0n the other hand,

was using a sequence-by-sequence approach. Yoda Yoshikata,Iater Mizoguchi's major sce-

narist, remembered that Murata had him analyzing sequences in foreign films and then

considering them "as basic elements in the construction of a scen ario . . . Every director was

expected to more or less construct ascenario in this fashion, including Mizoguchi."s*

Though this director"s choice was for the sequence, not the shot, he made a number of

early fihls (all of them now vanished) which seem to call for a method perhaps more

dynarnic than that for which he is now famous. Tokj,s UIarch (Tolryo koshinlryoku, 1929,

n.s.), for example, wffi a keiko-eiga, what would later be called a tendency (leftist) fihn.

Written by popular novelist Kikuchi Kan, it proved a box-office success, prompting the

company to order more of the same. The result wu fu[etropolitan Sympfusn! (Tokai

kokyokyoku, 192D, a "people's film" of which five minutes or s0 still exists. The script was

not by a popular author but by several "proletarian" writers, something the company did not

7u

lcrow, or else it might not have allowed its production. Nikkatsu wartted a fashionably liberal

picture, not leftist propaganda.

lletropolitan Sl,m7horl-l'was shot on location in Tolcyo's L'ukagawa area, where, as

Mizoguchi later remembered, it was so dangerous that cast and crew alike srueared their

faces with dirt and dressed like laborers. He himself went around hiding the camera nnder

his coat. The danger, it should be added, was not from the proletariat but from the police,

already looking for dissidents. Later Mizoguchi made And Iet The.rGo 0rr (Shikamo karera

wa vuku,1931, u.s.), shot iu Tamanoi, nnother tough place. Not only did the police again

investigate, but the crew was threatened by gangsters as well. This was uot the fiLst and

certainly not the last iustance of gang activity in Japanese filnr production.

Popular though these fihns were, Nlizoguchi did not believe them to be successful. He was

interested in the "rlew realism" but, at the same tirne, this style was rlever one he made his

own. Mmumura has said that Mizoguchi simplv "couldn't adapt to the realism of 0sanai

Kaoru and MurataMinoru," and gives ztn interesting reason: "because it was too contami-

nated witlr Westemization." ];

So, though Mizoguchi made many different sorts of fihr, it is his seqllenced "wornau's

pictures" which distinguish him. The first of these of which a priut still exists is The Wrtter

l'lct31ician (Taki uo shiraito, aka Taki of the WaterfallZtXlhite Threads of the Waterfall/Cas-

cading White Threads ,193r. Scripted rnainly by Tateoka Kennosuke and based 0u au Izumi

Kyoka shinpa play, the film is fraught with coincidence aud melodrarna illustrating the

burden of the wolnan's plight-her silent suffering at the hands of meu. Taki, an enter-

taiuer, falls in love with a young man whose education she pays for. Unfortunately, the

money has been borrowed from a loan shark who eventually becomes so inportunate that

she has no recourse but to kill hirn. The presiding judge at the trial turns out to be the youug

man whom Taki has educated. He upholds the law of the land and condemns her to death.

Taki eludes this fate by biting off her tongue; he, iu renorse, cornmits suicide.

The Water Magician, 1933, Mizoguchi Kenji, with lrie Takako,

0kada Tokihiko.

79

Redeerning such shirnpa-like excesses is the physical beauty of the filnt's images. The

asymmetrically balanced seqr-rences-each of which increases ollr understanding of the

characters-carry along with them the subtext of their own aestheticism. The bridge where

the lovers meet is used to comment upon their relationship: they meet there, she wanders

alone there, he kills hirnself there. During the seduction scene, the camera writhes almost as

much as does Taki. Later, in prison, jail bars castperfectlyplaced shadows across Taki's face.

Mizogr-rchi, initially apainter himself, wffi, like mostJapanese directors, tnuch concented

with the beaufy of his scenes and the aesthetics of his sequencing. Because of his pictorial

interests, he was also drawn to aview which focused on the big picture, rather than its sub-

ject. He disliked subtitles because they interrupted the sequential flow, aud coltsequently

rather preferred the benshi.

The director himself has said, "When I was finally able to learn how to sltow life as I see it,

it was also from about that time that I developed a technique of shooting an entire sequence

in a single cut, the car\erualways remaining at acefiaindistance from the action."16 This

technique is indeed paramount to the Mizoguchi style. Yoda Yoshikata, who scripted a

number of Mizoguchi's later films, said: "The deepest beauty must be recorded with a long,

continued shot . . . I take this single-shot technique into account in all my scripts." rT

The effect of this technique has often been comrnented upon, but its strength has been

perhaps best described by Shinoda Masahiro, when he contpares the long shots of Mizoguchi

with the short shots of Ito Daisuke and stresses "the trernendous increase in emotional

irnpact which [Mizoguchi] gained by exchanging the manipulations of short multiple shots

for tlre objectiviff of the long single shot."i8 One such sequence in The Water X[agician

opens with the autumn slry, the camera moving to a tree, panning down with the leaves as

they fall, watching them. The camera then moves to theater posters being taken down, on

past this scene to inside a theater, where it records the actors packing, glides past, and,

finally, stops-all this in one shot-only to catch one of the characters saying what we have

akeady seelt, that this is the end, that the season is over.

Sato has remarked upon the close relationship between Mizoguchi's style andtraditional

perforrning arts. "His characteristic 'one scene equals one cut' technique, for example, is like

tlre mus ical accompaniment in tradition al dance, in bunraku puppet theater, in noh . . " 3e

Sato also draws attention to the moments called kimaru in classical dance, that is, poses or

gestures which ernphasize the beauty of shape. Mizoguclti's cutting, Sato continues, empha-

sizes this. Motion is sequential, "changing frorn one exquisite shape to another. Short shots

cannot capture this subtle flow, which can be caught only by complex camera movements

such as panning or craning."{0 The director's long shots are thus seldom static, though they

are often of a singular duration. The aesthetic structure of any single scene is the result of a

balance within an asymmetrical composition.

80

Sato cites in a later film, The Life of )haru (Saikaku ichidai onua, aka The Life of a

Worrran by Saikaku, 1952), a coucluding kimaru-like morrellt, a long shot showing the

place of execution, and the hero (Mifune Toshiro), bound. After his last words ("May there

conle a time when love is not a crime."), the canera palls swiftly up to the executioner's

sword. "The nloverreut is comparable to a stroke in calligraphy, when plessure is applied at

the point where the rnoviug brush stops . . . In the next iustartt tlte sword flashes dowu with-

out a sound, but the camera renrains immobile, staring ont irtto space. Unwaveringly, the

kinraru movement has been resolved."*l

This stvle can lead to a static, superficial kind of beaul,v-Sato heLe mentious such late

filnrs ashcll'tllusnsllzo (Musashino Fujiu, IgSt) and lliss 0,1'u (Oyu-sanra, 195l)-and

N,lizoguchi was indeed often criticized for just this. Also, refined though the director"s tech-

nique wa^s, critics felt that it was not progressive, that it looked back to the fonnalized aes-

thetics of the classical theater and that his slow tempo indicated old-fashioned sentiments,

things that a modenr Japanese should regard with anrbivalence.

One critic has derided the director's well-knowu autiquariau tastes and found his

coutemplation of old porcelains A strauge devotion to meaningless trivia. Another critic has

called Mizoguchi's use of long shots a rather rudinrentary techniqr,re, one which is ntost

comuron iu conutries producing secoud- and third-rate films. Yet another critic has goue

fiuther, calling Mizoguchi so old-fashioned, his views 0u aesthetics so prentodenr, that irr

mAnv wa,vs his pictures are just like "primitive" Japauese films.

Mizoguchi himself was aware of these aspects and began to turn away from such obvi-

orrslv pictorial stmctnres as that of Tbe Wrter Alnl4ician. In later filnrs, snch as }saka Eleg,

(Narriwa ereji,1936) and Sisters oJ'tbe Giorl (1935), he began to reflect the very cultural

dichotoml, 15^, urade this kind of criticism possible: the pull of the traditional and the

equally strong impetus toward things new.

7,'ilUl

tfi

}saka Elegy, 1936, Mizoguchi Kenji, withEitaro, Yamada lsuzu, Hara Kensaku

Shindo Sisters of the Gion, 1936, Mizoguchi Kenji, withUmemura Yoko, Yamada lsuzu

Many Japanese of Mizoguchi's generation were necessarily of two ninds-mutually

irtcotnpatible to the West-about their world. Just as there was a presurned gulf between

Japanese kirnono and Western dress, between a native fish diet and the meat victuals received

from abroad, between jidaigeki on one hand and gendaigeki on the other, s0 there was a

perceived antagonism between these two different images that Japan had of itself.

This divide had been reflected in muchJapanese aft and in filrn, too, it became a major

concern. Emotionally, the present was a sirlple and understandable continuation of the past;

at the same time, the contrast between old and new was s0 problem atical that it led to com-

plications. This became a major Mizoguchi therne.

The director has said that he didn't begin portraying Japan realistically until }sakct

Eleg' and Sisters of the Gion, and both filrns clearly indicate Mizoguchi's accomnodations

to a selective realism. In the first pictnre, a dilemma is presented on its own [s1ms-that is,

realistically-and the audience judges the situation for itself, A young telephone operator

(a modenl occupation) is ruined because of an innocent desire for money. Her boss takes

advantage of her and her family stands helplessly by-a traditional element presented in a

lifelike nanner. Realism was apparently an aim. After making Yoda Yoshitaka rewrite the

scenario ten tirnes, Mizoguchi was still dissatisfied because he said it failed to portray people

so real that the audience could srnell their body odor.

h-t Sisters of the Gion, the heroines are traditional Kyoto geisha sisters. The elder pos-

sesses all the virtues of the legendary Gion entertainer, while the yollnger is modern and

inclined to ignore the traditions of her profession, and Japanese traditional society in gen-

eral. Despite the geisha code which authorizes only one patron per woman-a rnan who is

wealthy enough to afford her-the yoLlnger geisha jumps from rran to tnan in search of

ready cash. She also decides that the elder sister needs a new patron as well, since the first

one has lost all of lris noney. The contrast between tradition and tuodernity is entbodied

evelt in the casting: the elder being played by u now established traditional star, Umemura

Yoko, and her younger counterpart, by newcomer Yamada Isuzu.

One of the younger geisha's rejected suitors jealously pushes her frout a tnoviug auto-

mobile, but even when she lies in the hospital, unable to interfere with her sister's life arty

longer, the elder is still too encumbered by tradition, too mr-rch the geisha to rejoin her now

irnpoverished lover. She will always be afraid of going against custom. The youltger, how-

ever, with every chance of recovery, will take up where she left off,

The director went to great pains to create the uniform background against which these

extrernes are viewed. The opening sequence is an exarnple. Shinoda Masahiro has givett a

description of it: "The Furusawa household, the possessions of a bankrupt textile merchant

are being auctioned. The carnera begins with a medium shot of the fast-talking auctioueer

behind a podiurn, then slowly pulls back. 0n the sound track the dialogue of auctioneer and

u2

bidders. As the bidding continues, the cameruslowly reveals that the store had been a large

one. Then, as the auctioneer enters the final bid in his ledger, the catneraslowly rnoves into

the livirlg quarters in the back of the house. As the off-screen bidding resumes, the camera

discovers three forlorn people seated in a r00rn stripped of all but the barest ftunishings: the

owner Furusawa, his wife Ornie, and his elderly manager Sadakichi, wlto says: 'Depressing,

isn't it, watching them sell the things we've lived with our whole life. Almost like they're slic-

ing us up and selling us off.': " '1)

The fihn ends with the celebrated hospital sequence. The canerudollies along a corridor

and then pauses for a very long tiure on the other side of a screen, behind which are the sis-

[g$-2 period of stasis in which the director seems to ask us to reflect on what we have seen.

Only then does the camera move to the protagonists. Eventually, it slowly tracls toward the

yoLrnger sister, to end with a close-up that Donald Kirihara has called "a visual as well as a

didactic climax. " *'j

Mizoguchi used the close-up, when he used it at al[, in a manner all his own. For exam-

ple, at the end of The Dou,nfnll of }sen (0rizuru Osen, I93;:) there is a full close-up show-

irrg tlre heroine deranged in a railwav station. But this shot is not for easy identification with

0sen. It is for us, like her, to ignore the crowds, t0 more readily understand rather than to

experience her situation. Likewise, the close-up of the younger Gion sister, Omocha, is for us

to regard and contemplate her own final question: "Why are there such things as geish a in

this world?"

If Mizoguchi's sentirnents occasionally, and almost by default, go to the elder sister, his

ending questions these. The problerl suggested by the filrn adrnits no easy answer and, by

implication, goes far beyond the narrow world of the geisha, to the shifting pendulum of

Japanese society itself.

Tlre problem of choice is one which anirnates rnany films and mu ch Japanese modern

literature. In noh, the choice has already been rnade before the play begins, and if the choice

is made for personal indulgence over social duty, one may be certain that ghostly revenge is

not far behind. In kabuki, the choice itself constitr-rtes the plot: will the lovers neglect duty

because they love each other? Can the hero bear to decapitate his own son, as duty plainly

deruands, s0 that his lord's child may be saved? Even lyric poetry reflects the therne of choice.

The elegiac qualiry of rnuch Japanese traditional veme is occasioned by the poet's regrets that

he followed the path of personal inclination, or that he did not. In Japanese films, often the

choice between the old and the new, the traditional and the modern, becomes the theme

itself. In world cinema as well. All directors find themselves facing the force of the traditional.

Producers are often conservative, s0 are audieuces-the director is in the position of having

to rnodenize his traditions or traditionalize his rnodernitv.

Nonetheless, timely though it was, Skters of the Gion was not a ftnancial success. The

8.1

director has said: "Though it didn't take long to finish, certainly less than a month, Daiichi

[where Mizoguchi continued to make fihns after leaving Nikkatsu] went bankrupt because of

it. Actually, it was Shochiku [the distributor] that gave us a raw deal by refusing to show a

good film like this in a first-class theater."** hr any event, Daiichi Eiga broke up in 1937, and

Mizoguchi moved to Shinko Kinema, originally aysaftof Shochiku. Here he began rnakir-rg a

different kind of film, starting with Tlte Storlt 0f the Last Chrl,santhernum (Zangiku mouo-

gatafi, 193il.

EXPRESSIONISM, KINUCASA TEINOSUKE, AND THE LEFTIST FILM

[ fl izoguchi's concern for a realism so extrerne that he could smell the characters' body

M odor represents one end of the realistic spectrum. At the other end are the stereolypes of

early fihn, the clichds and patterns of shimpa-based melodrama. Yet, what the Japanese

mean by realism is not what is usually meant elsewhere, According to Erich Auerbach, the

Western definition of realism is "t0 represent phenomena in a fully externalizedform, visible

and palpable in all their parts, and completely fixed in their spatial and temporal relations."*5

As previously suggested, however, realism as a style is always partial-one chooses from life

to make that sinulacrlun which is film. The degree is marked by the openness with which

the choice is dirylayed. The United States-a land where realism was thought a virtue and

where reality itself was not only defined but endorsed-produced films the realism of which

was assumed, as thor-rgh there were no other stylistic possibilities.

According to Ar-rerbach, in realism nothing was to remain hidden or unexpressed, noth-

ing was left fragmentary or half-illurninated, never a lacuna, never a glimpse of unplunbed

depths, all events in the foreground. Though even Anerican films were rarely this realistic,

their makers often assumed that they were. However, other countries-France, Germauy,

Japan-gave early evidence of the possibiliff of film styles reflecting different concepts of

realiry.

Cinematic irnpressionisn, for exarnple, offered another kind of realism (as in the films of

Jean Renoir and other French directors) where, following the exarnple of the irnpressionist

painters , away of seeing more natural to the eye was approxirlated. Things were painted as

tlrey "looked," not as convention suggested, That Japan did not avail itself of the impression-

ist style might be because there were no close ties between it and France (nothing approach-

ing those between Japan and Germany), and because rrany impressionist films (those of

Dimitri Kirsanoff andJean Vigo, for example) were not locally shown until much later.

0n the other hand, expressionism played an important role in earlyJapanese cinern a, and

traces can be found even now. Historically associated with Gerrlan literature and graphics,

81

expressionism was a style in which the writer-or'painter, composer, filmmaker-sought

to avoid the representation of external reality and, instead, to project a highly personal vision

of the world.

In drama, this style was seeu as areaction against naturalism and, consequently, a uuln-

ber of plays imported into shingeki were expressionist: those of August Strindberg, Franz

Wedekind, Ernst Toler. The film Von Morgens bis X{itternacht, s0 popular in Japan, was

originally an expressionist play by Georg Kaiser. It was also thought fitting that expressionist

plays imported into this far archipelago should be performed in what was understood to be

an expressionist style, one which it was discovered, rneshed so satisfyingly with the Japanese

assumption of presentation as adominant mode.

A further reason for the preponderance of expressionisn in Japan was that there had long

been a definite, if undefined, disinclination toward naturalisrn-th at varrefy of realism

wlrich expressionism was definitely not. Though some Japanese authors, such u Tayana

Katai and Nagai Kafu theoretically emulated Ernile Zola and the other early "natLrralists,"

wlren tlrese methods were put to use in the first-person shishosetsu novels they became pro-

jections of avision of the world so personal that it colored whatever the author looked at. It

was in itself a kind of home-made expressionism.

Hence, though it was considered avant-garde in other cultures, expressiouism found a

ready lrome in mainstream art iu Ja;san. fuid, as forrrulahad long beett aJal:arrese prefer-

ence, expressionism h,la Doctor Caligari offered a new and novel formula. In addition, and

rnost importantly, expressionism did not pretend to be representation, it was not "realis-

[i6"-i[was pure presentation, and this was something theJapanese knew all about,

Finally, this imported expressionism contained an urban prejudice which made it seeur,

in the eyes of the Japanese, truly modern. The works of early expressionism in Europe were

"typically, situated on the edge of the specifically modem context, the megalopolis of indus-

trial capitalism . . . Beneath a rigid asphalt crust, man-made and controlled by the authori-

tarian father-figllre, chaotic forces, urlgovernable by rnan, are destructively active."a('

The typical expressionist product made criticism of the social status quo both irnpossible

to avoid and easier to voice. Social criticism was traditionally expressed in what Carl Znck-

mayer called the major expressionist therne, the revolt of soll against father, atheme implied

in rnany Taisho-era films, Souls on the Roncl anong them. Challenging authorily was

implicitly a political act, and it is for this reason that Japanese expressionisrn could so easily

and qr-rickly tum leftist.

Ambitions were similar in both expressionistic and leftist literature. Plays and films often

presented the negative effects of authority. Mizoguchi Kenji's first picture, Blood und Spit'it

(Chi to rei, 1923, n.s.), about the masses downtrodden by authoritarian capitalism, was

said to lrave been noticeably expressionist. So was Murata Minoru's Eikichi, Chaffiur

85

(Unterrshu Eikicl-i, 1924, n.s.), with an added touch of class consciousness. Social criticism

fotrnd anatutal discourse in expressionism.

Tlte work of Uchida Totuu, a director originally much influenced by expressiouisrn, indi-

cates tlris. Frorr his expressionist social satire, A Lit,ing PtQpet (lkeru ningyo, 1929, n.s.),

Uchida went on to refirte this stvle (threatening capitalist city, sinister goings on) into its

close relative, what we now know as fihr noir, in Police (Keisatsukan, 1933, n.s.). He also

engaged in social criticism in his naturalistic-seemingEnrth (Tsuchi) of 1939. This film, a ftrll

print of which was discovered in the Russian archives in 1999, recounts the plight of a pool'

famer under the capitalist heel. The therne is taken Llp again in many of Uchida's later pictures,

such as the Hunga' Strnitt (Kiga kailqro, 195), wherc the whole of social justice is questioned.

Expressiottism as astyle is seen in its ftrllest and most extremeJapanese form in two early

pictures by Kinu gas Teinosuke, the former oyama turned academic director, who later

becatne famous for the Kikuchi Kan-scripted The Gate of Hell (Jigoku rnon, 195r. Between

1920 and 1965, Kinugasa made over one hundred and ten pictures of varying quality.

Nuntber thirty-five in his prolific outpnt, however, wffi utterly unlike anything before or after.

Tlris was.4 Page )rtt of Order' (akaA Page of Madness/A Crary Page), the negative of which

was discovered in Iglt Made to be shown in a comtnercial theater (though one usually

reserued for foreign films), it is-arnong other things-an illustration of how styles consid-

ered advanced or difficult in the West were readily accepted into the Japanese mainstrealn.

A Page )ut of )rder, 1926, Kinu-gasa Teinosuke, with lnoue Masao(right)

Expressionism was regarded as the latest entertainment import fron the West, and that in

itself made it welcome. Nso, it was from Germany, a collntry from which Japan had adopted

a number of products, such as an army based on the Prussian rnodel. Early expressionist

Gernran films proved popular in Japan. Tanizaki Jun'ichiro very much liked the Paul

Wegener films Der Student u07t Prag (1913) and Der Golern (1920), and Kinugasahad

86

seen a g00d nalty as well, inch-rding F.W.Murnau's Det'Letzte X[cutn (1924)-ltis "ideal

fihn"-which he viewed five times.

Much of the artistic ferment of the Taisho mid-1920s was occasioned by literature attd

filrls from abroad. Miyoshi Masao has spoken of the wholesale iuterest iu "bits and dollops

of Paul Morand, fuidreyev, Croce, Bergson, Futurism, Cubism, Expressiottisnt, Dadaisur,

Syrnbolism, Structuralism, Realisrn, Strindberg, Swinburtte, Haupttlaun, Ronain Rollaud,

Schnitzler, Lord Dunsany, Wilde, Lady Gregory, Aud a lot else." *7

By I)25, the two rnajor literary schools in Japan were the proletarian-literature rnove-

ment and the expressionist-like Shinkankakr-rha, 0r "Neo-Perceptionist School," a group

wlriclr included Kawabata Yasunari, now in his experiutental phase, and Yokomitslt Riichi,

whose The Surt's Clrlno (Nichirin, I92) had already been filmed by Kinu gasa.Though

finislred in 1923, this film's release was held up by the Ministry of the Iuterior. The story of

an aristocratic woutau who rluls off with the farnily chauffer-rr was thought to cotttain veiled

references to the imperial farrily.

Kawabata had early pointed out that German expressionism, as opposed to the realistic

naturalist view, was the best vehicle for perceiving the prirlacy of subjectivity. He cotnpared

the new German style to old Asian-style Buddhism, which-as in Zen-had amottg its aitus

the breaking down of subject and object. The subjective view of expressiouisur wffi, he thought,

rluch like the prelirninary stages of this breakdown. Kinugasa agreed, so did Yokornitsu, aud

it was decided that they would attempt a self-consciously exprcssionist independent film.

0riginally, Kinugasa wauted the film to be about an amusement park, Iike Caliguri, a

filnr lre had not seen but which Kawabatahad. Later, scouting for ideas, he weutto atuetttal

hospital and discovered his subject. This location appealed to the other two Neo-Perception-

ists-after all, Caligari had also taken place in a rnental hospital, and the hallucinations of

someone institutionalized would be an ideal vehicle for expressionist treattuent. Apparentlv

the entire group wrote the script, and Yokoruitsu named it. Kawabata subseqr-rently wrote a

short story abor-rt the filming called "Warawan Otoko" (trAuslated as "Tlte Unsmiling Otte")

and eventually included the script in his conplete worls.

A Page At ol')rcler is about a lnau who abandons his wife, causing her to drowtt her

baby and go insane, or else to go insane and drown her baby. The older daughter holds her

father responsible and he, feeling guilty, attempts to make amends by getting a job in the

asylurn where his wife is incarcerated. His memories and hallucinations occlrpy hirn as they

do his unfortunate spouse. In the end, his surviving daughter's marriage having beerr

happily affanged, he stays 0n-u0w as rnuch apartof the asylum as his wife is.

Such a story would have equally suited the demands of shirnpa, but the scriptwriters pLlr-

posely scrarnbled time and space. hr addition, Kinugasa complicated any easy reading by

leaving out all the dialogue titles that Kawabata had provided and by cutting any scenes that

87

could fonvard a recogltizable plot. He also urged the inclusion of logically irrelevant but

etttotionally evocative scenes-a broken rice bowl, a rain-soaked cat-and interrupted the

narrative so oftett that the audience had to bring its own subjectivity to assist in any interpretation.

funong the opening scenes is the following seqllence:

The rain falls outside. Flashes of lightning appeaL- in the sky, one superimposecl

ou the other.

A dancing girl.

The sor:nd of ataiko drum artd other rnr,rsical instrurlents is heard in the rain.

The dancing girl, exhausted from dancing, suddenly collapses 0n the floor. Her

feet are bleeding.

Musical instrunents are heard in the rain.

The dancing girl on the floor listens inteutly. Then she gets up and starts dancing

agal-n.

Blood stains here and there 0n the floor. *s

This is a translation of the Kawabata script rather than a reconstruction of the actual filr1,

but its "expressionism" is obvious. It is the attthor's intent that the dancer shonld "heAr"

music during a rainstorm in a silent film (by double-printing the musical instruments gver

her itttage), that her intpressiotts should be oLlrs, and our experience of the asylurn be hers.

Kinugasa also seeks to ittcrease this visual irnpact. He turns this seveu-part scene into a

sequence made up of over fifry cuts.

A Page }ut of )rcler was photographed by Sugiyan)a Kohei, the cameraman who also

wetrt otr to witt Kinllgasa his various prizes for Tbe Gate of Hell. Visually, it owes much to the

Gernlan expressiouist product: nighttime lighting, lots of reflections, rain-soaked sets, shad-

ows, and r,rrban nenace.

In place of the steady, sober pace of the Germau expressionist films, however , A Page }utof )rder ts a mosaic of srnall sceltes, the pattern of which must be inferred by the viewer.

There is ettottgh of a plot line to assist tlte benshi (who mlrst have been otherwise baffled by

the film), but its ternpo is oftelt as fast as possible, making one wonder if Kinugasa had lotalso seetr fihns by Dimitri Kirsanov or Sergei Eisenstein. But Kirsanov's Xlenilntontctnt

(1924) was ltever shown in pre-World War II Japan, and Kinr-rgasa saw neither Eisenstein's

Strike (1924) nor his Poternkin (192) until he went to Russia several years later.

There is also no Ja;sanese precedent for such fast cutting. fuld fast it is. Though it lasts

.8,9

T3

A

$

I6

17

18

19

under an lrour, the film usually exhausts its audiences. Yet, it is certainly part of the expres-

sionist ethos to give all angles of an object and to include in the subjective experience of the

film everything about the space and tirne it encompasses. Expressionist film is not so tnuch

about anecdote as it is about being inside the anecdote.

The writers chose to enter the story at a rypically odd angle, since the insane dancer is

neither the wife rr0r celttral to the story. More important than story, however, is atmos-

phere-something Japanese audiences early detected-in this case, the subjective experi-

eltce of the asylurn itself. This mealts that the narrative, what there is of it, is reassuringly

atrnospheric and at the same tirne takes 0n a near allegorical importance. This is all there is,

but this is enough because this is what the world is.

As Iwasaki Akira said in his review of A Pnge )ut of )rdel': "Directots like KinLlgasa rvho

can lnake use of the camera freely, independently, and effectively are not so comllon in

Japan. They are rare even in other countries. The carnera becoutes almost an orgattism

which grasps the object naturally and perfectly. The operation is not sirrply a mecltaui-

cal one. Hence they [Kinugas a and Sugiyarna] succeed in producing an origiual creative

work."*e Wh€n the picture opened, the press was attentive and respectftrl. Though not enough

money was luade to finance a second experimental film (one of Kinugasa's stated antbi-

tions), it was still thought of as acommercial filrn , tf a rather advauced otte.

The film was thus financially successful enough to attract the attention of Shochiku.

Nways interested in novelty, the compauy agreed to distribute Kinugasa's next picture. The

director later remenbered that "during this period there was a clamor arrong a sectiott of

moviegoers to take away the swords from the chambar"a film: in other words, to remove the

fighting sceltes from samLlrai films in order to elevate the artistic quality of Japanese cinema.

Accordingly, our next film was a conscions attempt to exclude a historical plot with its color-

ful incidents and to include a sirlple story describing the affectiort between a brother attd

sister, p00r, living in an obscure comer of the city." str

Crossroach (Jujiro, aka Shadows of

tlre Yoshiwara, 1928) is a more comner-

cial filnr than A Page Ai of )rder.

Its expressionism 'as well as the pace are

considerably toned down. At the sarlre

time, Crossrocu* illustrates how an im-

ported style can corre to be nationalized.

Tlre filrn's expressionist intentious are

conveyed mainly in the sets-hlrge, cav-

ernous UFA-lype settings, which recreate

Japan's feudal era with lots of nightCrossroads, 1928, Kinugasa Teinosuke, with Chihaya

Akiko, Bando Junosuke

8g

shots, shadows, sntoke, and steam. The wounded and thirsty hero crawls from his bedding

only to find hintself in a Fritz Lang-like space with enomous half-buried casks full of water.

Yet, whert lte tries to drink, the water boils. Pain becomes steam. The hero is particularly

cltarttbara-like and strikes a variety of poses. This is in contradistinction to the actiug iu

A Puge Ai of )rcler, where the actor playing the renlorseful husband (well-known lead,

Ittoue Masao) gives an intensely realistic performance. Overall, the acting in this film is

more 'Japanese" than it was in KinugasA's earlier picture.

Ott a deeper level, the linkage between scenes in Crossrouch is often, in the Japanese

manner, neither logical uor callsal, but emotional. A woman is concerned with her brother's

safety, so the scene cuts directll, to the two of them in their childhood, which establishes her

memories and her concerns. A cut is detemrined not by the convolutions of the storyr, but by

the visuals of the scene-the round shape of a sedge hat suggests the round shape of a

teacup.

Foreign viewers seeing this picture, which was anong the first Japanese films shown irr

Europe, appreciatively noted its "realisrr," for example, how the character's breath was

visible in some sequences. Snch realism was not, however, among the aims of the picture.

Actually, this particular effect was uniutended-the studio was unheated and it wAS

winter.

The differerrce between these two KinLlgasa fihrs is most easily exemplified b,v the treat-

mettt of their respective cats. htA Pu54e )ut of )rcler', the wet cat is just there, and nothing

much is rnade of it. Consequeutly, its misery intensifies the horror of the asylnm. The cat in

Crossrouch, ou the other haud, is oue of the actors. Its role is to creep up to the hero,

attracted by the wounds, and lick the blood.

Films which expressiouistically showed the menace of city life and the prevalence of iusane

asylurns were, intentionally or otheruise, criticizing society itself, finding fault with the status

quo. Since fault is inevitably found with the status qLlo, such criticism merelv expresses the

equally inevitable popular aspirations of certain elemeuts in society, and this offends the

authorities. Perhaps this is even nore evident in Japan, where historically the status quo has

been less regularly challenged.

Literature, drama, andfihn in the "dernocratic" Taisho-Showa 1920s tended to criticize.

The keiko-eiga, 0r "tendency" films-films which tended toward leftist sympathies but

avoided overt political commitrnent-eventually became numerous enough to fonn a

geure. Usually these filrns took a stance against some repressive govemment-backed political

action. As the authorities looked more and more closely at the liberties taken during the

90

decade of the 1!20s, increasing efforts were rnade to curb this license, resLllting freqr-rently in

ever more overt expressiorts of criticism.

Many directors contributed to the keiko-eiga genre, inclLrding Mizoguchi, Itarui

Marrsakn, And Tasaka Tomotaka, whose Look, at This Xlother (Kono haha wo tuiyo, 1930,

n.s.)-a look at a proletarian mother sacrificed to societ,v's cruel hypocrisy-was one of the

nrost popnlar. Uchida's expressionist .zl Lit,irtg Puppet-written by popular proletariart

writer Kataoka Teppei (who also wrote the script for Mizoguchi's lleh'opolitan 51,177-

ltltorrl')-yx5 a keiko-eiga zu well. Its protagonist is a man who begins to fight agairtst the

capitalist system but ends up playiug into its hands. Later the genre included films frotn such

norrrinally conseruative directors as Shiurazll Yzuujiro, his LiJbline ABC (Seikatsllsen ei-bi-

shi, 1931, u.s.), about striking workers, being an exatuple.

The most popular of these keiko-eiga was a fihl which becarre something of a sensatiort

arrd thus attracted the direct attention of the government. This was Whctt llucle Her Do It?

(Nani ga kanojo wo so sasetaka, 1930), the work of Suzuki Shigekiclti, based on a novel by a

well-larowu proletariau writer, Fujirnori Seikichi. Iu it, a poverty-stricken woman turus

arsouist. What made her do it was the tuiseries of capitalism,

The fihl was found s0 persLlzuive that there were (claimed the press) local riots. It

became the highest-grossing picture in Japanese silent-film history. With it, the governmertt

began taking 211'l evelt stronger interest in the industry,, particularly whert it becante apparertt

that the film was scheduled to run in the Soviet Union.

In 1994, a partial print

of this picture was discov-

ered in the Goskino fihr ar-

chives in Moscow, and thus

a r'rew generatiou could fi-

nally see this notorious film.

Wbul llucle Her Do It'/ is a

melodrama in which noth-

ing good is allowed to hap-

pen to the downtrodden, and

anything bad that can hap-

peu to the heroine does. At

the same time, it surprises.

Though a melodramatic potboiler, from the Westem point of view, it is also extraordinarily

film literate.

If a narrative this well designed had appeared in Europe, the fihn would ltave become as

fanrous zls, say, E. A. Dupont's Varietd (1926), a melodrama which it somewhat reserlbles.

What Made Her Do lt?,1930, Suzuki Shigekichi, with Hamada Kaku,

Takatsu Keiko

91

Whett, for example, the hungry heroine is being fed, the meal is encompassed in an unusual

series of dissolves, and the articulation of space around the hearth is a piece of experimental

geornetry resembling the worls of Man Ray, except that it is insteadaproduct of theJapanese

mainstrearn of 1930. Such was the acceptance of the latest in film techniques; such was the

ignorance of their original puryoses.

It was not the aesthetics of the film that roused the government, of course, but its critical

lnessage. The 1920s had been a period not only of "license" and relative freedorl but also of

economic setbacks and widespread poverty. Many Japanese were dissatisfied and made this

krrown. The authorities were quite prepared to act against such dissidence. Director Suzuki,

feeling threatened, retreated to safer ground and three years later was making patriotic docu-

mentaries for both the Japanese arny and navy. Nonetheless, the suspicions of the govenl-

ment, never actually dormant, were now rekindled.

From the age of the Tokugawa shogunate through the Meiji and Taisho governments, an

oppressive governing body had been the rule rather than the exception. One might charitably

call the system paternal but, in fact, it plainly sought to exert control to a degree Llncomllon

irt other countries. The frivolities of the 1920s did not much coucem it, but the growing

dissidence of the 1930s did.

Movies had long been under a kind of semiofficial control. Early on, Victorin Jasset's very

popular Zigomar (1911), about a sllccessful robber, was singled out for investigation and

certsorship. Eventually, it and its variousJapanese emlllations were banned. By 1917, a filrn-

control regulation law was 0l'r the bools, and in 1925 its stringencies were tightened. Oshirla

Nagisa later noted that at first there was only postproduction control, followed by a loose sys-

tenr of general control; then, tn 1939, "total control." 5r This 1939 law, rnodeled after the

Nazi Spitzenorganisation der Filrnwirtschaft, was a result of the militaristic and nationalistic

political clirnate, which had grown much stronger after the 1937 invasion of China byJapan,

and the need to control opinion.

Consequently governlrent superuision became more frequent and more severe. Censors

deprived the script for Ozu's College Is a Firte Plctce (Daigaku yoi toko, 1936) of a seemingly

innocent bit of comedy, when two students try to avoid their military training class. Once the

teacher calls the class to order, what was to have followed was a parody of military training,

at the end of which the two rebellious students were to be upbraided in the overblown, rhetor-

ical style of General fu'aki.

Latet, scissoring becanle eveu more frequent. Naruse Mikio's Trm,elirtg Actors (Tabi

yakusha, 1940), about fellowworkem (who between them played the front and back half of a

horse) had a whole section cut, apparently for reasons of excessive levity. A drinking scene irr

Yanramoto Kajiro's Horses (Urna, l94I) was cut because it was thought to encourage alco-

hol consumption on the job. Yamarnoto's pupil, Kurosawa Akira, had a love scene taken out

92

of lris debut picture, Siurnhiro 5'ttgrtfut 0943), und Kinoshita Keisuke, Kurosawa's contenrlto-

rarv, alnrost lost the final sequence of.Anrlt' (Rikugun ,1944).

Army,1944, Kinoshita Keisuke, with Tanaka Kinuyo

InArttt.)', a clistmught nrother (Tanaklr Kirtn'o) runs alongsicle the train which is tuking

Itet't,oung son lnvay t0 the front. She is so pluinlv upset llv this event thut the censols

denrancled that it be cut; nrothers were sllpposed to be snriling proudlv as sons were sent off

to battle, the kincl of scene which occurred with sonre frequeno' in other pictures. Kinoshitlr's

seqllence was savecl because it could be zugued that the nrother's stress wrn caused br,the

conflict beMeen her knowing r,vhat was socizrlli'correct (sending the bov off) and her owlt

selfish and possessive uature in loving hinr (the old dranratic kabuki stanclbr'-giri versus

ninjo). N1ani'otheL filnrs, thciugh, wete hacked LU),0r else bannecl conrpletelv. Kurosuwa's

Sirtttsltiro Sttgrttrt, ba^sed ou the popular Tonrita Tsuneo novel, and bafflingli,called an insult

toJapltn as well as "Artglo-futtericltrt," wlts savecl onh'bv a tinrelv renrark br'02u, who lvlts

on the corurnittee and wrLs a nuur whose opinion calriecl sonre weight. He said he knew lroth-

ing about Anglo-fuuericunisnr but thut he thought this was e \,€['fine filnr.

F'oreign nrovies as well, particulaLlv those dealing i,vith the nrilitan,, were sinrilaLh, cell-

sored. Lewis Nlilestone's,4// Quiel ut lhe lV'eslenr Frottt (1930) suffered near'[r' three hun-

dred cuts, zuuounting to about twentv peLcent of the screening tinre. ful'thirrg showing wut

as it was hacl to go. This included scenes of those dead in b:rttle, sceltes where ntell were

killed, and the clinractic sequence where Lei,v Avres bavonets a French soldier ancl is stunned

at what he has done. Other r,var filnrs were conrpletelv excluded. When a print of Jezur

RettoiL's Lu Gruttrle lllustott (1937) arrived inJapan, it was confiscated ancl sent buck horne

Naturalh', tl're govenmrent also looked after public nroruls and the possible thLeat to thenr

bv foreign products. Kisses were routineh, renroved, with the result that foreign actors ancl

actresses approachecl each other tenderlv onlv to Lecoil with inappropriate suddenltess. And

e.j

there were lrany other reasons as well for cutting the foreign product. The Mongol prince

was trot left hanging by his queue in Raoul Walsh's Tbe Tbtef o.f Bagdncl (1924) because he

wffi, after alI, aprittce. Rend Clair's Le Derctier lltilliarchire (1934) was ordered deprived of

all scenes that seerned to profalte a royal farnily.

There remained for a time several genres where protest could covertly continue. One of

these was the jun-bungaku film, film adapted from the better class of fiction. Companies

usually accepted the proffered script because directors were at least showing serious inteu-

tiotts to work with pretested material that had already found something of an established

audieuce. This could also hold off the censors, the argLurent being that since the work was

already lcrowu, the film was not responsible for the ideology contained. ht addition, there

was ample precedence for the genre. Japanese cinerna, perhaps more than any other, is close

to all forrns of literature.

Tlre resulting films were called brnryei-eiga, "literary fihus." In the early 1930s, the

genre appeared frequently: Gosho's adaptation of Kawabata's DAttcirtg Girl frorn lzu (lzu

tto odoriko, 1933); ShimazuYtsujiro's )koto and Sastfte (Shunkinsho: Okoto to Sasuke,

1935), based 0n a Tanizaki novel; Gosho's Et,erJ,thirtg Tltat Lit,es (lkitoshi ikeru ll0l-10,

1934), based on a Yantamoto Yuzo uovel. Later, Yoshimura Kozaburo adapted Kishida

Kunio's Warm Ctrrertt (Danryu,I93D, and newcolner Shibuya Minoru calne to popular

attentiou with lVlother artd Child (Haha to ko, 1938), based on a YadaTsuneko novel.

A director who gave the literary-film movenent much of its vitaliff was Toyoda Shiro. His

Yowtg People (Wakai hito, 1937), based 0n a novel by Ishizaka Yojiro, proved popular, aud

he wettt ott to make nany other distinguished adaplations, among them Crl,bab1, Appren-

tice (Nakimushi kozo, 1938), based 0n afamous novel byHayashi Fumiko, and lVightingale

(Uguisu, 1938), after an Ito Einosuke work.

Though bungei-eigawere generally protected frorl the censors, some ran into trouble.

Uclrida Tomu's Earth (193D was based on a serious novel by Nagatsuka Takashi, but the

message was too keiko-eiga-like for the

conseruative censors. Nikkatsu did not

like the idea. The book was highbrow

realisur which criticized the existing

order. Furthermore, as the story took

place over four seasous and was aII

location work, it wor-rld be costly to

nake. In addition, there was the feeling

that the government wor-rld not take too

kindly to a film which shows a p00r

widow forced into poverty by the system.

94

Earth, 1939, Uchida

Bontaro

Tomu, with Kosugi lsamu, Miake

Nevertheless, despite this opposition, Uchida and his devoted staff and cast went ahead

and made the picture. Facilities, money, and film from other productions were slipped to the

Earth production unit. The studio heads, r'lever too close to what was going ott under tlten,

did not notice this activily until the picture was alrnost complete. Presented with the finished

film, Nikkatsu was Anuoyed but finally agreed to release it as a gesture of good will toward its

obviously devoted employees. To the compauy's embztrrassrneut, tlte picture won tlte utairt

KirremaJumpo pfize that year and consequently (since no costs had ever been credited to the

unit) eamed an unprecedeuted returrt ort the irtvestruertt.

Though the government indeed disliked the Uchida film, the geueral public utade it a

success. The reason, said oue critic, was that audiences were weary of rnelodrarna. Bungei-

eiga were more faithful to real life, and by using them, filmmakers could move closer to the

lives of ordinary people and achieve lnore realistic portrayals. Borrowing from literature thus

moved theJapanese film closer to what the West would recognize as realism.

furother geltre which could register protest was films about children. As Iranian cinema

wm to later discover, A repressive governmeut often does not notice implicit criticisrn if it is

offered, as it were, by kids. F'urther, evelt watchful censorship is apt to see such fihns as inno-

cent, just like the youug actors appearing in them. Such films were rarely censored, and all

were notably realistic.

Typical of these films was Tasaka Tomotaka's A Pebble bl, tlte Wa1sicle (Robo no ishi,

1938), scripted by Ikeda Takao, who had earlier worked on Ozu's variolls "children's" pic-

tures. Here the trials of the little boy hero are directly caused by brutal authority: a drunken,

abrtsive fatlter; x s1r51gtt that apprentices ygultgsters to adult trades; a ggventttleut completely

tuncltriug. The pictnre was enormonsly popular, and the censor's scissor's llever touched it.

Toyoda's Cr1,bub1, Apprentice was another example of this strategy, as wAS Shibuya's lllotber

curcl Chilcl, a film in which a young girl sees a repressive society through her disrupted

farnily-an authoritarian father and his mistress.

A Pebble by the Wayside,1938,

Tasaka Tomotaka, with Kosugi

lsamu, Katayama Akihiko

95

None of these films were overtlv sentimental, perhaps because the child's poiut of view

was preserued, and children-rarel,v sentimental about thernselves-are often pragmati-

callv realistic. This was certainl,v true of several such pictnres made b,v Shimizu Hiroshi in a

snccessftrl attempt to escape having to make govemment-spousored films. His Cltildrett itt

the Whtcl (Kaze no naka no kodomo, 1937) and Four Seoszrts oJ' Children (Kodollo u0

shiki, I93D iguore the adult world until it collides head-on with the kids themselves. It is

tlrerr that, just like the two little bovs iu Ozu's I Ws Blr'n, But . . . , thev compare themselves

with grown-ups, onlv to find their elders wanting,

Four Seasons of Chrldren, 1939,

Shimizu Hiroshr

CRITICISM AND CRACKDOWN: WORLD WAR ll

/\ttenrpts to make individualistic films waued as the 1930s drew to a close. The govenr-

F\ ment hacl deciclecl Llporr a collrse which was to preclucle the freeclotu of such persoual

expression for solle time. As one high-ranking govenluent official put it: "Films are our

bullets and there is not a foot of film to give to the private sector."

It was, after all, wartinre. Japan's conflict with China was uot unsought, and a pretext for

irrvasion had occurred tn1937. Three years later the entire archipelago was being mobilized,

and by I94I the couutryr was ert war with, aluoltg others, the United States. The govenlnent

needed to mobilize everything it had, including films.

The problem was that the profit-oriented filnr industry was not initially prepared for

wartime sacrifices. Its fihns were making ruouey just as they were zurd, besides, tltere was a

shortage of executive personnel. Kido of Shochiku, for example, was out helping orgattize

filnr activities in occupied lands. Others were making pictures in Chiua and Korea. There was

little leadership and n0 one at all to direct a change in production policies.

By 1941, the industry had run into real trouble with the militan'because of its failure to

96

produce a sufficient number of national-policy films. Though sone companies made token

efforts-Mizoguchi Kenj i's The Loy617 Fortl,-5suen Ronirt, f.or exatuple, wffi a fihr which

indeed stressed the rnilitary's conception of bushido-it was officially decided that the indus-

try had to be entirely reorganized.

The ten major film conpanies then operating (Nikkatsu, Shochiku, Toho [ex-PCL],

Slrinko, Daito, Tokyo Hassei, Nan-0, Takaruzuka, Otaguro, and Koa) were told that they had

to fornr thernselves into two companies, and that each company was to make two films a

month. Raw film stock would not be avallable unless the studios rnade the kind of pictures

the state required.

Nagata Masaichi, earlier at Nikkatsu and later a major player in the postwar filrn indus-

try, maintained that this plan was really designed by Kido to consolidate his personal power

and Shochiku's strength. It was certainly true that under this plan Nagata's own Shin-

ko Kyoto studios would have been closed and he himself would have been out of a job.

Consequently, he countered with a new proposal: rnake three companies instead of two. The

government was pleased. A new third company, composed of firms with weak nanagernent,

would have little power to oppose government policy.

So, Shochiku and Koa composed one company; Toho, Otaguro, Tokyo Hassei, Nan-0, and

Takarazuka rnade up a second; and the third cornprised Nikkatsu, Daito, and Nagata's own

Slrinko. This pleased everyone except Nikkatsu, which owned alarge chain of theaters and

would now have to show non-Nikkatsu fihns in them. Nikkatsu prcsident Hori Kyusaku tried

to defend his cornpany and thus earned the displeasure of the higher powers. When joining

tirne cane, Nikkatsu found itself puryosely undervalued, while Nagata's Shinko was padded

to the extent that it became dorninant in the combine. Shortly the conpany took a new

nane-Dai-Nihon Eiga, 0r, as it was soon called, Daiei. Nagata as mAuaging director wffi,

of course, appointed as the new president. The govemment, having orchestrated a major

upheaval in the film industry, could now order the kind of filrn it desired.

A probleln renained. Japan had uever developed a war geun. The occasional newsreels of

thirfy years before had done little other than celebrate the glory of victory. Now that a war-

fihn genre was contemplated, it was felt that ernphasis should be placed upon the sacrifice

dernanded and the discipline required. War was to be fully supported.

Construct arealistic film about war; but so far there had not been any. Shochiku's big

production of 1925 had been Fntherland (Sokoku), which featured three thousand extras

and four airylatres; Ushihara Kiyohiko's The Army Aduances (Shingun, 1930), a romantic

Slrochiku cornedy, had cornbined whole sections of King Vidor's Tbe Big Parade (1925) and

William Wellmen's Wirtgs (1927), and featured the top box-office duo, Tanaka Kinuyo and

Suzuki Dernmei, but offered nothing that would raise national consciousness. Others were

even less bellicose.

ii

I

-l:.'

(

97

The existing genre of war-related films would not do if the audience was to believe what it

saw. A compromise was suggested by the kulttu'-filtn, a recently irnported German genre

which allowed for grea.ter nanipulation than did the assumptions of the British or Anerican

documentary. A cornbinatiou of kultur-film "realisrn," nlainstream feature narrative, and

less apparent propaganda ought, it was thought, to be a proper recipe for an acceptable

war filrl.

Japan's initial wartime fihns seemed to Westeru eyes to lack propaganda. The first and

best of these (from the viewpoint of aesthetics, if not that of the war effort) was Tasaka's Fit,e

Scouts (Gonin no sekkohei, 1938). A corrpany commauder calls on five llten. Thev are to

reconnoiter, but on their way they are attacked. 0nly four of thenr return. While ltis cotttpan-

ions lloLlnt, the fifth straggles back. Soon after comes the order to rlove out for a general

attack, The men know that this tinre there will be no returnitrg.

Five Scouts, 1938, Tasaka Tomotaka,

with Kosugi lsamu

0nly at the film's end conles something the West might recognize as propagandistic. The

field comnlauder quietly speaks to his soldiers: "The battaliort is now about to move out into

action. There is nothing I can say to you at this time since I know each of you has prepared

himself . . . From now on I want you to entrust yollr lives to ne as yoLl would to your own

fathers. Let us all join together in the glorious death of the warrior ltero. Tenno Heika Bart-

zcti flong live the enperor!]." Yet despite this closing address, from the Western point of

view, the film's attention to detail, its refusal to generalize, and its lack of nrelodramatics did

not make very/ good wartime propaganda. It is also without the fervent nationalism tltett

being pushed by the govenuneut, and lacked the warrior heroistu of the ordinary period-

drama. The soldiers seem without auy sense of mission-divine or otheruise. The eueruy is

never seeu; all that the scouts experiel'lce is the terrifying effect of enerny fire.

When not being shot at, the soldiers' lives are made up of just what they would be other-

wise: searching for flowers they knew at horne, trying to find sotnething that could be used zn

98

zr tatalni nrat, waiting for the nrail, boreclonr. 'l'he nren, of course, rea,hze their clanger, but

this danger is not objectified. It nright be arguecl that in a Japanese wartinre propaganda

filnr, enelnv objectification was nof necesselr. Irr a nation where obligation, r'ltther tharr f'eel-

ing or reilson, ltow defined the social order', it was not crtrcial to dranratize, icleutif\', 0L pre-

sent a rationule for war. It was necessan'onh'to show people what wrn required of thenr. In

alrv case, the 0ffice of I'ropaglurcla took no exception to F.tt'e Sicottts; rather, it encounrgecl

the pLocluction of others like it

Critic Hztzunri Tsuneo has argued tlurt the ubiquitv of newsreels, rr0 nrzttter how edited,

accustonred the public to "clocunrentarv realisnr," and thut this in tuln nrolded poltular'

taste. Literature tunred to the "reportltge" r.rovel, il,hile illustrative urt becanre photognqthic.

It was but uatural, Hazunri relnonecl, that fihn now hzrcl to accon]nrodate realisnr as well.

People had to be shown things u^s thev nr0r'e or less reallv were. Tasaka, along with the 0ffice

of l'rop:rgancllr, however', hrtd to find, as he phnrsed it, a wav to lchieve son]e clegree of in-

dependence fronr the uuthoritv of the docunrentan'. He thoLrght Fit'e Sicotrls did this ivell.

Trtsakrr followed this success with illttd uttrl Slokllers (Tsuchi to heitai, 1939), a woLk that

createcl u nroclel for nlul, other earlv wartinre fihns.

One of the luore interesting of these variations oll the thenre was Yoshinrura Kozaburo's

T'he Slot'.)'0t"1Ltttk Cottttttrtttrler Arishi.,ttnti (Nishizunri senshecho-den, 1910),lvritten bv

Kikuchi Kan, who, lvith the chunging tinres, \\/us now obviouslv regLetting his eaLlieL keiko-

eiga afliliations. I'he filnr's heLo is shown going ubout winning the waL br'' being friendlv

lvith enemv civiliarrs ancl fratenrizing r,vith his or,vn nren. \'oshinrllra latel explainecl: "l

really didn't'want to nrake the filnr into sonre rousing war-support piece. Iwantecl sonre kind

of battlefield Good lluddies Club, sonrething in the nrocle ol a ti'pical Shochiku honre melo-

drart-tzt, and featuring Nishizunri zts a faillv orclinerl' chltracter'.";l To do so, however', he

r,vould have lurd to trash a script wlrich alreadi'had a nlessage ol Lacial superioritv over the

The Story of Tank Commander

NishizumL 1940, Yoshimura Koza-

buro, with Uehara Ken

99

Chinese built into it. Shimizu Hiroshi, by now thoroughly adroit and to whom the script was

originally handed, might have pulled that off, but he said it was time to give the younger

directors a chance, and went back to rlaking films about children.

The Storj, o.f Tank Commander Nishizumi wu lypical of the new war product. It was

based upon the life of an actual soldier, a nan who had received one of the Japanese govern-

nrent's highest posthumous honors, being designated a gunshin, or "military god." And,

indeed, the young officer is godlike in his militaryr devotion to both his country and his men.

Still, by international standards, the propag nda level is low.

Such quasi-humanistic expression, for a time, was encouraged because it did not violate

the rules laid down by the Home Ministry. According to these, oue ollght not to make light of

nrilitary mattem, but one also ought not to exaggerate the horror in scenes dealing with war.

One should avoid scenes of close fighting and do nothing to lower the tlorale or destroy the

fighting spirit of the conscripted men, which was indeed something which rnight occur if the

full horror of war was revealed.

funong the other stipulations, later enforced by the 0ffice of Public Inforntation (created

by the Cabinet in 1940), was that filrns should display the beauff of the peculiarly indige-

nous family system, show the spirit of complete sacrifice of the nation at large, and reflect

"the Japanese national philosophy. "

This meant, of course, that a national philosophy had to be invented before it could be

displayed. At this the Japanese had had sorne experience. A similar goal had been pursued

since the Meiji Restoration in 1858. With the ending of Japar]'s isolationist policy,Japan felt

it necess ary to define what it was that made the Japanese people and their life so Japanese.

Tlrere is an entire literature 0n the country which does nothing else. It is callednihonjin-

rltt, which rnight be translated as "studies on beingJapanese." The vast rnajority of these

studies are more prescriptive than descriptive, and many seek to defend as rnuch as to define.

Their partiality is now so notorious that the better bools on Japan show no ambition to be

considered nihonj in-ron.

After 1935, however , real efforts were made to express a national essence. The military-led

governnent needed to define "Japaneseness" since its expansionist policies (first in China

and Manchuria, eventually in the entire East Pacific) depended upon the durability 0f the

imperialJapanese aura. This led to a state-sanctioned ideology of Japanese identity and the

necessary resulting mystique. The search for this amalgan of, characteristics had been going

on for some time. It had continued beneath the liberality of the prewar period and lurked

under modernism. Now, however, with war as both reason and excuse, there was new need

for an agreed-upon'Japaneseness."

Little remained untouched during this new period of Japanification, and Japanese film

was n0 exception, particul arly as it was now notorious for importing not only new

100

techniques, fads, and fashions but also new attitudes and ideas. It was Japanese film which

had crcated the questionable shoningeki, the suspiciously critical jidaigeki, andthe dissident

keiko-ei ga, and it was ltow irnportingadubious "rcalisrn," Filn, in particular, needed to be

de-foreignized.

The govenlment, with its home ministries and offices of censorship, called for a cleauup,

one which, as they might have phrased it, would return the cinema to the people. The result

was the fostering of a style which restored to Japanese fihr many of its original most "Japa-

nese" eleuents.

The first order of business, since Japanese film style had moved toward Westeru realisur,

was to correct this. Repressive regirnes do not favor realistic films. It is said that a 1949

Egyptian film-censorship law equated realism with social subversion. The Japanese govern-

ment (deryite earlier approval) now thought along these lines. It had in hand an altemative.

the new goverllnentally approved style, which adapted the language of classical Westeru ciu-

ema to accornmodate a presumed classicalJapanese design. Darrell Williau Davis describes

tlre resulting product: "ln technique as well as subject matter . . . the films enact a canoniza-

tion of history, an elnphasis on indigenous art forms and design, and a corresponding

technical repertoire of long takes and long shots, very slow canera movetttettts, and a

highly cerelllouial manner of blocking, acting and set design." The wartitne style set out

"t0 trausformJapanese traditions from a culturallegacy into a sacrament." 5i

fuirong Davis's examples of culture as sacrament is Story of the Last Chrl,santhemum

(ZangikLr m0n0gatan, 193D, aMtzoguchi Kenji film about a Meiji-period kabuki family,

wlrich Davis calls "a sactamental depiction" 0f the Japanese farnily-system. It functious

as "an admonition to the Japanese people to return to their rightftrl place in the imperial

lineage . . . the pllrer, straighter lines of the ancien rrigime," the picture itself becoming

"a stfal]ge, wonderful amalgarn of rnoral tract and aesthetic rigor." 5*

Story of the Last Chrysanthemum, 1939, Mizoguchi Kenji, with Kawarazaki

Gonjuro, Umemura Yoko, Hanayagi Shotaro, Kawanami Ryotaro

101

funong the other films Davis lists as defining this monumental style arc Kumagai

Hisatora'sIhe Abe Clan (Abe ichizoku, 1938), Kinugasa Teinosuke's The Battle of fuuta-

nakajima (Kawan akaiima gassen, I94I), Makino Masahiro's Shogun lemitsu and His

Mentor Hikozaemln (Hasegawa to Roppa no Iemitsu to Hrkoza, I94I), and-since the

line continues-Kinugasa's Ihe Gate of Hell (195il, Kurosawa's lhtgemusha (1980) and

Ran (1985), Teshigaltaru Hiroshi's Rik1,u (1989) and, of course, Mizoguchi's The Loy6l

Forty-Satm Ronin (Genroku chushin gura, 194112).

Tiris last named picture is yet another version of the celebrated rlorality tale frorn bun-

raku and kabuki, in this instance taken from the 1937 governmentally "approved" version

by Mayana Seika. Here action is

redr-rced to static reenactment, and

the hierarchical quality of Japanese

court life is presented, by inference,

as a contemp orary possibility. The

framing and camera movement, the

distant scenes, and the long takes

self-consciously revert to the means

of early Japanese cinema-some-

thing from which, despite his occa-

sional close-ups and fast cutting,

Mizoguchi was never far.

The film also reflects, perhaps not

so intentionally, the sparse techniques of the early Japarrese fihn. Some scenes in this late

version would not have been out of place in the very first one. The difference is, of course,

thatlrere the slowness, the severity, and the use of classical aeslhetics are all conscious and

intentional, auned aI creating an official and canonicalJapaneseness for nationalist ends.

0r at least so it appean.

After World War II, when nationalistic excesses were being called to account, Mizoguchi

implied that. in actuality he was escaping into history $tory of the Last Chrysanthemum is

about a Meiji theatrical family,Ihe Loyal Forty-$sLtm Ronin is about mid-Edo-period court

life) in order to avoid the demands of the troubled present.

As the war progressed, however, it became apparent that neither movies which grandly

asserted Japaneseness nor those which showed the joys of soldierly comradeship were

enough. What was needed was something akin to what the West recognized as wartime pro-

paganda. The solution was the so-calle d kokusaku-eiga ("national-policy film").

Among the most representative national-policy films were those ofYamamoto Kajiro, an

actor, scenarist, and director who had begun his carcer under Murata Minoru. The War at

The Loyal Forty-Seven Ronin, 1941-42, Mizoguchi Kenji,

with lchikawa Utaemon, Nakamura Gan'emon.

102

Sea from Hauaii to Malal,a (Hawan-mare oki kaisen, 1942) was sponsored to commemo-

rate the first year of the "Greater East Asian War," to dramatrze "the Navy Spirit as culni-

nated atPearl Harbor." To this film Yamamoto brought documentary techniques, already

used in his Horses (Uma, I94I), plus the resoLuces of his studio. A huge rnodel of Pearl Har-

bor was constructed on the Toho lot, and exact scale models of warships were floated here

and there. The results were so effective that, after the war, Occupation authorities mistook

some of the studio shots in TIte War at Sea for the real thing.

The War at Sea from Hawaii to Malaya, 1942,

Yamamoto Kajiro, with Fujita Susumu, Kiyokawa

Soji

Horses, 1941, Yamamoto Kajiro, with Takamine

Hideko

Yamamoto, now remembered chiefly as Kurosawa's mentor, was perhaps typical of. those

directors who made unquestioning wartime propag ndafihns. Though aliberal person, he

joined mostJapanese in finding that the war, particularly after the Pearl Harbor attack,filled

hirn with a mixture of euphori a and apprehension. In his memoirs he is honest enough to

record what he felt that December morning in I94I: "Upon hearing the news I felt a subtle

pleasure at everything becomin g clear at lut. . . the ten yeam leading up to this morning

had been filled with uncertainty. Now something was certain." 55

With its cornbination of apparent probity and absolute propaganda, 7he War at Sea

pleased everyone: it recuperated at once the entirety of its enormous investment, the govern-

ment was happy, and Toho was jubilant. It is interesting, however, that the monumental

style played no part in this success. The picture is completely realistic, fast, and intimate.

It is, rnf.act,much like anfunericanwartime film. Itwas also partial. Sato Tadao,who later

wrote a scathi ng analysis of it, says that its tacit claim to being an accurate portrayal of.

recruit life was an absolute lie, since nowhere does the fihn show the brutaliry which wls a

daily, very real ingredient in the lives of these young men.

Such an anomaly escaped notice in 1942 artd, in any event, the film was clearly intended

as celebratory.0therpictureswhich tried to tell more of the truth farcdlesswell. One of these

{)I

-"r":

103

was Kantei Fumio's documentary Fighting Soldier (Tatakau heitai, aka Soldiers at the

Front, I93D. It was so honest, so open in its depiction of the soldiers' routine and boredonr

that critics said it should have been named "Exhausted Soldiers" (Txtkctreta heitni), and

the government banned it.

That the government ban came as sllch a surprise to Kamei indicates the narrow terrain

that the fihn industry was rcquired to traverse. According to the original plan, the picture was

sllpposed to have been a grand war spectacular, sponsored as it was by the Public htforma-

tion Section of the arny. However, after looking at the actual war, Kamei remenbered: "We

threw out our spectacular plan to show groLlps of 'fighting soldiers,' and began to depict . . .

the honest life of the soldiers which ftrlly showed the rnost beautiful humanity with a plrre

and simple consciousnesg." 5(r

Kamei's aims were ostensibly those of Tasaka andYoshimura, yet his efforts were met

with protests. The Metropolitan Police Board's chief, head of the so-called thought police, is

reported to have shouted: "These aren't fighting soldiers, they'r'e broken soldiers!" The differ-

ence in reception had much to do with the difference in orientation among these directors.

Tuaka and Yoshimura carne from comnercial film and could rnake use of accepted realist

couventions. Kamei was a docurnentarist and could not. He says in his autobiography: "l did

not have any inteution of making an antiwar film . . . My greatest concem was to thor-

oughly describe the pain of the land and the sadness of all the people, including soldiers,

fArmers, and all living things . . . Horses, even plants suffered during the war."5r

For his efforts, Kamei was eventually imprisoned, one of the few filmmakers to suffer

incarceration. Since he was also to suffer severe ceusorship under the Suprene Commander

of the Nlied Powers (SCAP) censol's after the war was over and the Nlied 0ccupation Forces

became the authoritv, many have pointed out that the real reasou behind such treatment

was that Karnei was an Lulrepentant Marxist, something frowned upon by both the wartime

Japanese and the funerican Occupation censors.

Laws supporting censorship were viewed in different ways by differeut critics. While most

echoed the words of one of them, that "the law intends to Llrge the qualitative improverlent

of the motion pictlue," the outspoken Iwasaki Akira, for years Japan's onh' independent

critic, said of the sane law that "it strikes out the creativity and spontaneity of film authors;

limits the thernes and contents; and atrophies, even kills, the fihr itself."58 Iwasaki was taken

into custody for this offense among others (he was also accused of being Marxist), wffi prose-

cuted, jailed, and beaten to the extent that he carried facial scars to his death.

Escaping govemmental dernands was something that few in the film industry could

manage, Some, of course, directly joined the military. One such was Kikuchi Kan, a very

powerful literary figure, who also wrote scripts aud was editor-in-chief of the influential

publicatiott lVippott Eigct. He supported the "spiritual Mobilization" (Sei.rhirt Sod,oiz) the

104

government spoke of and said that it was necessary to turn away from the artistic darlaress

and negativity one associates with realist-tinged worls.

Clearly one of Kikuchi's targets was realistic films such as Uchida Tomu's Earth, a pic-

ture lre particularly disliked. He also included Shochiku shomingeki fihns, even Horses,, a

picture which the army had originally adrnired. With a determined administration and

spokesrnen like Kikuchi, governmental demands became more and more difficult for direc-

tors to withstand. A kind of passive resistance was the most they could hope for. Shimizn

Hiroshi was forced to make a documentary about the capital of Japan-occupied Korea, Seoul

(Keijo, 1940). Though itwas sllpposed to illustrate "Korean Unification with the Hornelaud,"

it did nothing of the sort. Shimizu contributed twenty minutes of pan shots showing little

except howJapanified the city had now become.

fuuottg the few directors wlto retained any integrily was Ozu. He was twice inducted into

tlte army, the second time explicitly to rnake films, and on both occasions he managed to do

notlring at aIL It is true that under pressure he sketched out an overseas wartirue comedy,

Fcn'fr'lnt the Lmd of )rtr Purents (Haruka nari fubo no kuni)-something like "Kihachi

Goes t0 War"-but it was uever submitted to preproduction censorship and wffi, perhzrps at

the director's instigation, abAndoned.

Though both of Ozu's cornpleted wartirne films, The Brothers nncl Sister,s of the Todu

Fumill' (Toda-ke no kyodai, I94I) and There Wrc a Futher (Chichi ariki, 1942), were

wamlv praised by critics and the govemrnent, there is nothing of the national-policy film

about either. Indeed, the only

wartime concession is that

the Toda family decides to

move to Manchuria-some-

thing which llatly Japanese

fanrilies were then actuallv

considering.

Mizoguchi was less adroit.

However unwillingly, he did

rttake a number of national-

policy films. The best, as film,

was Tlte Lol,ul Fort1,-Seren

Rottitt, And the worst were

very bad indeed. Other directors, less accolulrodating, were less fortunate. Gosho Heiuosuke's

IVeu, Rontl (Shindo , 1936) had nearl.v a fifth of its length cut because it showed the decay of

the farlily systent. Though Kinoshita Keisuke had rranaged to make a satirical comedy out

of lris debut fihu, The Blossoming Port (Hanasaku minato, 1943), he wffi, as we have seeu,

There Was a Father, 1942, Ozu Yasujiro, with Ryu Chishu, TsudaHaruhiko

105

lreavily criticizedforArffiJ,, the final scene being called deplorable and an unnecessary stain

0n an otherwise fine filrn. The censors kept their eyes on Kinoshita until the war was lost.

Kurosawa lkta, too, had difficulties. Though he nade his national-policy films like

everyone else-The fulost Beauttful (lchiban utsukushiku, 1944) and Sanshiro Sugata,

Pnrt Tuto (Zoku Sugata Sanshiro, 1945)-he also ran into trouble with his new version of

tlre kabuki play, Ihr{incho, which he calledThey Who Step on the Tiger's Tail (Tora n0 0

wo furnu otoko-tachi, aka The Men Who Tread on the Tiger's Tail, 1945). The idea sor-rnded

good 0n paper'. agreat, stately, slowJapanese classic, done under the most limited of rneans.

It would have only one set, one calnera,

and sorne locations in the forest uext to

the studio. Kurosawa's script, however,

though true to the letter of the play, in-

cltrded a new characte r-a porter, played

by the cornedian Enomoto Kenichi, bet-

ter larown as Enoken, whose thoroughly

modern concems completely altered the

rneaning of the drama.

Even while 7'he1' Who Step ltt the They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail, 1945, Kurosawa

Ti,ger's Tail was in production, the cen- Akira' with Enomoto Kenichi' 0kochi Denjiro

sors were getting rcady to ban it, but since

its production terminated more or less with the war itself, there was not much they could do.

Nonetheless, by leaving it off. a list of fihns sent to the new censorship office of the Allied

0ccupation, the censors made certain it was not released. Later, reviewed by the American

censors, this fihn which the Japanese censors had found too dernocratic, too Americau, was

discovered by the Americans to be too feudal, too Japanese. This instance of double censorial

blindness meant that the film was not released until after the funericans left in I9SZ.

As tlre war continued andJapanese losses began to be apparent, the national-policy prod-

uct turned more and more crude until its hate-the-enemy films became just as prirnitive as

their equivalent everywhere else. All villains were now Western (rnostly Japanese actors in

sunglasses and noustaches), spies were everywhere, mothers were eternally brave, soldiers

died happily, and everyone cried.

Nonetheless, Japan lost the war, an unimaginable calamity for the country. All major

cities with the exception of Kyoto, Nara, and Kan azawa were destroyed; hundreds of thou-

sands of civilians were killed in fire-bomb raids; the atomic bomb was dropped not once but

twice, and Hiroshima and Nagasaki along with most of their inhabitants were obliterated.

The defeat was total. Still the populace had been schooled in enduring the unendurable, and

there was now an opportunity to demonstrate this ability.

106

THE OCCUPATION OF JAPAN

A fter the def'eat of World War II, movies were arnong the few fortus of entertainment left

A to a hungry yet hopeful population. Since Japan was now uuder Allied 0ccupation,

most aspects of its wartime civilization were under scrutinv, and this included the ciuema.

Viewers were therefore seeing a uew kind of Japanese film.

\f ithin four months of Japan's sut'render to the Allied Powers, in Augnst 1945, the filur

larv of 1939 wAS revoked, aud in its place were new forntulatious issued by General Douglas

N{acfuthnr himself, the Supreme Cormreurder of the United States-led Occupation.

SCAP aunouu ced a list of prohibited subjects: anything infused with militarisrn, revenge,

rrationalisrr, or antiforeign sentinent; distortiort of history; approval of religious 0r racial

discrimination; partiality toward 0r approval of feudal loyalty; excessively light treatment of

human life; direct or indirect approval of suicide; approval of the oppression 0r degradation

of wives; admiration of crueltv or unjust violence; antidemocratic opinion; exploitation of

children; and opposition to the Potsdam Declaration 0r any SCAP order.

Along with the taboos came a list of subjects to be favored. Filmnakers were to show all

Japanese of every walk of life endeavoring to construct apeaceful nation; soldiers and repa-

triates being rehabilitated in civilian life; those in industry and farming in the process of

resolving the problems of postwar life; labor unions being peaceftrlly organized; the hitherto

bureaucrattc governnent casting off and adopting true governmental responsibility; the free

discussion of goverument problems taking place; every human being and every class of soci-

ety being respected; individual rights being upheld; and historical personages, too, struggling

for government representation of the people and for freedorn.

Judicious prohibitions were balanced by utopian stipulations, and a special office was

ordained, the Civil Information and Education Section (CI&E), amorlg whose duties was the

examination of new screenplays and the review of finished products. As for wartime and

prewar films, such prints and negatives as were extant were reviewed and sentenced.

107

A total of over five hundred movie titles was compiled, and about half of these were

burned. It was announced that these were sirnply extra copies, that original prints and nega-

tives had been placed in storage by the Eighth tumy before being turned over to the Signal

Corps, and that eventually these would be transferred to the Library of Congress. In fact, no

one knows just what was destroyed in the 1946 bonfire. Original prints and negatives were

probably consumed along with the "extra copies." Title lists were not kept , andsome companies

(Toho and Daiei) had aheady destroyed what they thought might be incriminating. (One

film, however, wffi saved. A single print of Yamamoto Kajiro's The War at Sea from Hauaii

to Malal,a was secretly buried at the Toho studios and later resuscitated.) The Occupation

ended in1952, and by 1967, all of the still extant prints and negatives had been returned to

Japanby the Library of Congress. The collection now reposes at the National Film Center.

After the bonfire, it was then the turn of those who had made these films to be punished.

TheJapanese government, under pressure from SCAP, requested the NI-Japan Motion Picture

Enrployees Union to draw up a list of "war criminals" within the industry. There were three

kinds, labeled A, B, and C. The first category included those to be "permanently" removed.

Besides governmental officials concerned with films, this category included Kido Shiro of

Shochiku; 0sawa Yoshio, former head of Toho; Hori Kyusaku, head of Nikkatsu; and both

Kikuclri Kan and NagataMuaichi, of Daiei, among the twenty-three individuals listed in this

category. Class B was devoted to those presumably less criminal, and included Kawakita

Nagamasa, head of Towa; Mori Iwao, production head of Toho; the director Kumagai

Hisatora; andothers, totaling ten in all. Class B "crimittals" were to be removed from the

industry for afixed period of time. Those who stood accused of class C crimes were ordered to

perforrn "self-examinations" 0f their past actions. Included in this category were Yamamoto

Kajiro and Yoshimura Kozaburo as well as anumber of othen.

The crirne, of course, was that aII had made wartime films. Kawakita, for example, had

been head of the China Motion Picture Company and had worked with Germany in 1937 on

an il!-f.ated Germ an-Japanese production. The picture was to have been codirected by knold

Fanck and Itami Mansaku, but differ-

ences s00n developed and eventually

trvo films evolved. In Die Tdchter der

Samurai (1937), the heroine nearly ex-

pires in a volcano, while in The Neut

Earth (Atarashiki tsuchi,1937) she goes

off to the new lands-Manchu ria-recently conquered by her countrymen.

What the two versions had in common

was their actress, Hatasetsuko.

108

The New Earth,l 937, ltami Mansaku, with Hara Setsuko.

Such collaboration was now deemed a crirne, though by the same reasoning, had Japan

won the war and the United States lost, John Ford, Frank Capra, and John Huston would also

have been "war crirninals." In any event, howevel, none of the "cfiminals" was hanged and

a number were soon sprung. Anong those listed in class A, charges against Hori, Kikuchi,

and Otani were dropped. Though Kido,Osawa, and Nagatawerestill arnong the "crirninals,"

the latter two were "rehabilitated" early in 1948.

For whatever reason, Kido was not granted clemency, and it was comrnonly said that his

rancor at being labeled a "war criminal" stemrned at least in part from the fact that he was

consequently kept out of the industry while his rival, Nagata, was fully reinstated and busy

witlr big ideas.Later, in his autobiography, Kido was still furious about tl-rcaffair, though his

motivation was uow political. If he was to be banished by the order of someone as insignifi-

cant as Iwasaki Akira (who headed the committee to nane war criminals), then it was

indeed a glorious thing to have been banished.

Criminals having been taken carc of in the brave, uew democratic world that the United

States was coltstructing, it still remained necessary to root out "feudalism," a rnore difficult

task. For exarnple, there was the issue of Mount Fuji. This venerable volcano had been used

by the wartirne government as a sacred, mystic aI intage, one strongly associated with the

birth of the nation and hence the ruling imperial house. Fujiwas plainlyfeudal.

Consequently, when Makino Masahiro wanted to depict Mount Fuji irt A Fashiortnble

Wanderer (lkina furaibo, 1945), he was told that he couldn't. Since his story was about cr-rl-

tivation on the mountain's slopes, Makino claimed that it was not a symbol of nationalisrn

but of the people themselves. CI&E refused. Irritated, Makino said that in that case they ought

to have bonbed Fuji instead of Hiroshirna and Nagasaki. Eventually the Americans admitted

that rnaybe he was right about Fuji but told him that he still could not put it in the filrn.

The new censoffi werc faced with many similar cultural obstacles 0n screen. Bowing

posed another problem for the authorities. It obviously displayed feudal tendencies yet, at the

same tirne, it was an ingrained and omnipresent custom of salutation in Japan. It could

scarcely be banned but it could be countered. Kissing, for example, was also a salutation And,

further, one which implied asort of equaliry-.

When this decision became known, there was some rivalry among filmrnakers as to who

would make the first film with arcal kiss in it. It was typical of the new political adroitness

tlrat tlre first was by the same man who had earlier made the bellicose Songs of Allied

Destruction (Gekimetsu no uta, 194), Shochiku's Sasaki Yasushi. He recorded the "first

kiss scene" for his TuuttJ,-Year-0ld Youth (Hatachi no seishun , 1945); however, he was

obliged to share the honor with Daiei's Chiba Yasuki, whose Ceftain Mght's Kss (fuu yo u0

seppun, 1945) opened the very next day.

Orre of the morc curious aspects of the CI&E was its highly selective apryoach to wartime

109

facts. The script for 0zu's Lcrte Spring (Banshun, 1949), for exarnple, had two lines changed

quite arbitrarily. The line describing the daughter's health as bad "due to being conscripted

by the navy during the war" was amended "due to forced work during the war." The other

line ordered changed is that of the father, who says that Tolq'o is "s0 dusff." Originallv he

said the city was filled with bombed-out sites. I

Not only was funerican damage to Japan to be rninimized, there was also a standing order

that members of the Occupation werc not to be shown 0n film. When Shirlizu Hiroshi was rnak-

ingChildren of the Beehite (Hachi no su no kodomotachi, 1948) and had to shoot on loca-

tion at railwav stations, where many of the horneless loitered, he had to reframe constantly to

avoid including the GIs gathered there. Yamamoto Satsuo, rnakingWar rtnd Pence (Senso

to lreiwa , aka Between War and Peace, 1947) in downtown Tolcyo, was told to avoid not only

GIs but also jeeps, English-language signs, and burned-out areas. Even the tenl "bumed-oLlt,"

as Ozn was to discover, wffi not allowed in scripts. As John Dower has noted: "The 'occupied'

screen did not merely offer a uew, irnaginedworld, It also made things disappear."l

Despite such vagaries most Japanese filmmakers thought that things were much better

under the Occupation Forces than they had been under their owu military fuld many would

have agreed with Kurosawa when he said of the U.S. fu'my censors: "Not a single one arnong

them treated us as criminals, the way the Japanese censors had . . . Having lived through an

age that had no respect for creation, I recognized for the first time that freedom of creation

could exist. " 'l

For all the improvemeut, the postwar film industry was not without its problems. It was

almost impossible to make jidaigeki. While Meiji-period settings were perhaps perrnissible,

anything before that wffi, by definition, fer-rdal, and hence suspect. This meant that rluch

Japarrese drama (sorne bunraku, some kabuki, most kodan) was banned. The Lo-l,al Forfi,-

Set,en Ronin could not even be staged, much less filmed.

There were ways around the difficulry. Mizoguchi Kenji, for example, wanted to rnake a

movie about the Edo-period woodblock-print master, Utamaro. Though originally discour-

aged, he did not despair. He hirnself called

on the Occupation authorities, giving them

cogent reasons for his naking the film.

The cornrnorl man, he averred, loved Uta-

maro-he was a great cultural object. A

mollified CI&E, given a reason to agree,

gave hin permission, and the result was

Lltcunaro ctrtd Hk Fit,e Wornere (Utamaro

w0 megLlru gonin n0 onna, akaFive Women

around ljtamar o, 1946) .

110

Utamaro and His Five Wlmen, 1946, Mizoguchi

Kenji, with lizuka Toshiko, Bando Minosuke

0n the other hand, if making jidaigeki had beconre more difficult, ruaking gendaigeki

had now become rnuch easier than before and during the war, Here was a gerlre-films

about couternporary/ life-in which the Occupation authorities were interested. These could

include instructious for the future as well eu recrirrinations for the past.

fui early success was Kinoshita

Keisuke's fllorning for the }sone

Fcnnilt' (Osone-ke no ffia, 1945),

about a family during the war.

Written by Hisaita Eiiiro, who had

been active in the prewzlr proletar-

ian literary movemeut, the film

depicts a militarist uncle involved

in shady deals. The uucle's dubi-

ous activities Are detected by the

mother of the farrilr,, prompting

heL to nrake a long speech con-

detrttittg nrilitary evils. With the

comiug of peace, the farnil.n" is brought together again. The allegorical "rrorning" of the title

refers to this new life occasioned by the end of the war. The film concludes with the family

celebrating, a sequence whose final shot is that of the snn rising as if to hail the coming of

democracy.

CI&E, which had insisted upon that final shot despite KinoshitA's resistance, was pleased

b,v the film eu itwas by Kurosawa'slVl Regretsfor 0m'Ibuth (Vagaseishun ni kui nashi,

1945). Here the subject was acadernic freedom: a democratic-minded teacher is silenced by

the military, and one of his students is arrested as a spy. The teacher's daughter (Hara Set-

suko in au untypical role), who is married to the student, endures greathardships. After his

death she works with his peasant parents. fuid, once the war is over, she stays sn-fhrough

suffering she has becorne areal individual, she has no regrets for her youth.

No Regrets for }ur Youth, 1946, Kurosawa

Akira, with Hara Setsuko, Fujita Susumu

Morning for the )sone Family, 1946, Kinoshita Keisuke, withMiura Mitsuko, Sugimura Haruko, 0saka Shiro, Tokudaiji Shin,

Tanaka Haruo

111

The scenario, another by Hisaita Eijiro, went through a number of transforrlations, uolte

of which Kurosawa wanted and all of them dictated by Toho's owl Scenario Review Board, a

leftist organization formed between the two Toho labor strikes, a tiure when the number of

Communist Party urenbers lrad much increased. Nonetheless, the fihn showed what Kuro-

sawa wanted it to show. "l believed then that it was necessary to respect the 'self' forJapan to

be reborn. I still believe it. I depicted a wonan who maintained such a sense of 'self.' Those

who criticizedwould have approved if the protagonist of the film had been a rnan."*

fuiother fihn which looked seriously at the new freedorrs was YoshirnuraKozaburo's Ball

at the Anjo House (fuljo-ke n0 butokai , 1947). Written by Shindo Kaneto, and rnuch

indebted to fuiton Chekhov's I'he Cherry )rchnrd, it was about an aristocratic family who,

lravirrg lost both peer status and fortune in the postwat era, are forced to close down the fam-

ily mansion. 0n the last night together, a party is held by both farnily artd seruants-the

occasion seruing as a reflection of their thoughts and reactions conceming the family's pros-

perous military past and its penniless but hopeful future. Toward the parfv's end, the father is

about to end it all, but his daughter (Hara Setsuko) takes away the gun, puts 0n a phono-

graph record, and leads him in a dance. This, she says, is the way to start a new life.

Ball at the Anjo House, 1947,

Yoshimura Kozaburo, with Aizome

Yumeko, Mori Masayuki, Takizawa

Osamu, Hara Setsuko

There were many other postwar pictures which looked forvard to a bright future. While

occasionally casting a backward glance at the darker past, most of their creators earnestly, if

sometimes naively, aspired to a future of peace, prosperity, aud equaliq'. fuirong these were

luew directors from within the ranks of the industry itself who were able to profit froru

the postwar changes which had so shaken the industry's organization. Producers turned to

directing, as did scriptwriters, photograplters, and even actors.

No rnatter where this ltow directorial talent came from, in postwar Japan all directors

were confronted with a stylistic problem. Until August 1945, Japanese directors had been

112

required to make uational-policy films, ones which favored Japaneseness. In the period after

August 1945,Japanese directors were reqr,rired to nake films which were specificallyfuleri-

can. There were also, naturally, continuations. Imai Tadashi, who had been forced to make

such natioual-policy films u The lVurnnzu XIilitnrl' Acade,z.t' (Nuntazu heigakko, 1939,

rr.s.) andThe Suicide Troops of the Watchtotrer (Boro no kesshitai, 1943, n.s.), could uow

revive the concerns of the prewar keiko-eigaand, in so doing, define the new social film. Irr

1946, he directedAn Enern)'of the People (Minshu no teki), apicture which had nothing in

comlnon with lbsen save its title, being about "the wartime oppression of the masses by the

capitalists, and labor's heroic opposition to capitalism, militarisrn, and imperialisrn," to

quote from the original pr6cis of the picture.

hnai later remembered that since "no oue had the guts to rnake a film critical of the

ernperor, [we] made filrns that fitted into permitted categories. The organtzatron of unions

was one of the rnajor recornmeudations of the CI&E, so I had guidelines." The guidelines

were delivered in the form 0f "several officers [who] . . . nade a few long speeches. They

tltreatetted us, saying if we didn't cooperate fwithin the pennitted territories] they would

iruntediately shut down the place. We cooperated." 5

Written by leftist authom Yasurni Toshio and Yam agataYusaku, Art Enemy s1' 76e People

was about corrupt capitalists who in collusion with the rnilitary ntake euonnous profits by

exploiting the workers. It easily passed the Occupation censors. Not only was it anti-big-

busittess/government cornbines, it was also critical of the emperor system. Though huai later

said that he did not waut to rnake an ideologi ca| diatribe, the filrn could also be seen as anti-

capitalist. It was a postwar keiko-eiga-a genre about which the postwar funerican authori-

ties would eventually have as rnany second thoughts as had the wartime Japanese.

fuiother picture with an appareut political orientation was Toho's War and Peace (Senso

to lreiwa,1947), directed by Yarnarloto Satsno and Kamei Funio. Though based on the Grif-

fith film Enoch Arclen (1911),

the heLo wAS now politically

committed to the left. Thought

dead by his farnily, he returns

from China, where he had

leamed the evils of Japanese

rnilitarism. Approved though the

script had been, the picture was

eventuallv ceusored and about

half an hour removed before it

was released. The reasolls were

various, but one of thern certainly

113

War and Peace,1947 , Yamamoto Satsuo

weu tltat Katuei was ittvolved. Karuei had been heavilv criticized, as will be remenrbered, for

I'is Figltlirtg Solclier, a fihl deenred too sympathetic to China eurd, in anv event, failing to

glorifl,Japanese aggression. The filnl was banned and the director jailed. Yet here was this

IuAn agaiu, once lnore saying that the Chinese treated theirJapanese POWs well, and teach-

ing collective peace and prosperif,v.

At the beginning of the 0ccupation, an,vthing that Kamei had warrted to make would

Itave beett welcotued by the authorities, so plainlv was he a mArtvr to feudalism. When he

announced plans for A Jupurrcse hugecll, (Nihon no higeki) in 1946, to be produced bv

Iwasaki Akira, he received readv permission. A docunrentary highlv critical of the intperial

s1'stettt (a shot of the emperor held the comnrentary: "This is the lnAn who should be pun-

ished"), it was also unfriendly to czrpitalism. The film spared no one: the eruperor, the mili-

tarists, the politicians, the financial nroguls. Nso, a Nilarxist historical anal,vsis underlay the

fihn's focus ou the ecouomic factors behind theJapauese leaders' uow uotorions exploitatiolr

of domestic labor and their plainly expansionist policf in Asia.

The filnt's underl.ving political currents were, of course, uothiug new in OccupiedJapan,

but Kamei did not stop there. Rather, he went on to name nalnes and to denounce the "wAr

crituiuals," sorre of whorn had not been apprehended, or even suspected, and this at a tinre

wheu there were indicatious tltat the Occupation was not long going to continue iu the

liberal wa,v it had begun.

Katnei wru uot a tuentber of the Comumuist Partv, but he had studied in Russia, adntired

Eisenstein and Pudovkiu, involved himself with leftist collceflls, zuld was friends with ltlally

party metrtbers. Other directors had similar interests, but thev did not make films attacking

capitalistn and openlv labeling men who, though former militarists, were now friends of the

Occupation.

There was also the growing suspicion in Washington that nranv of the 0ccupation poli-

cies were leftist (as, indeed, they were) and that "Comtuuuists had infected" alt operation

which had begun by inculcating derlocracy inJapan.By I)47 itwas also becontiug apparent

that cotl. ullnist Russia and the democratic United States were beginning to sqllere otf in

what would become the Cold War, a scenario in which Japan now had to pla)' the role of

"b'astion of freedom."

Tlrough A Jclpcnrese Tragedl, was actually released, a second revielv found that it really

should ltave been banned-and so it wzu. Nl negatives and prints were ordered to be sub-

mitted to the CI&E within the week. What seerns to have happened wa^s that Premier Yoshida

Shigeru had corttplained about the fihr and asked General Charles Willoughby to convey to

Gerteral Macfuthur, SCAP hinself, lris request that something be doue abor-rt it. Something was.

The fulerican report on the film said the banniug was in the interests of public order

because "its radical treatment of the emperor" might "well provoke riots and distrlrbaltces."

114

This fear was coltgruent with Macfulhur's decision that the irnperial institutiou should be

protected. After all, uot only had the emperor supported the Occupatiou, but abolition of the

imperial systern could threaten the uatiou's stability. Thus, the single nost feudal object of

all, the imperial systern, remained urtpurged.

So sudden was the change of direction, rlembers of the Occupation itself found thern-

selves being purged by Washington and the new House of Un-Anerican Activities Corlmittee.

Senator Joseph McCarthy, who was becoming iuterested, discovered that the Japanese film

indr-rstry was a nest of Communists. There were certainly a rluulber of party-rnernber insid-

ers-lmai, for example-yet their presence could be explained bv an Occupation policy

which, up until then, had upheld liberal aims. The new policy caught the industry's most

active pla,vers uuawAres. Such aims could now be construed as leftist. Hirauo Kyoko notes

this irr her discnssion of this period. The suppression of ,q Jultmrcse Trrryecll', she sAVS,

"reslllted from an intrinsic contradiction within occnpied Japan: the funericans decided to

rule the country by meaus of the existing Japanese govenrmental and bureaucratic systenr

rather thau destroying it, as they did in occupied Gerntauy. The ruost vocalJapanese critics of

the ernperor were Comrrunists, and the fulericaus thus equated anti-eurperor feelings . . .

with Comrlunisrn, in rlany cases without justification." ('

This change of direction taken by the 0ccupation was to have rrany results. While some

of the improvernents, such as land reform, were implemented, others (the intended destruc-

tiorr of big-business zaibutsel combiues, for example) were not. Though the United States

had tar-rghtJapan all about labor strikes, Toho's third major strike, in 1948, was settled by a

sltow of 0ccupied force. As the [Veu' lbrk Tirnes nported the event: "Conmunist-led sit-dowl

strikers agreed today to leave the ground of Toho movie studios after United States tauks aud

troops were called out in the first serious labor demonstration since General Douglas

Macfuthur banned strikes." I Talk of individualiry and democracy becarne less common,

tlrouglr the attractions of capitalism werc rendered no less inviting.

Directors and screenwriters were thus, as the Occupation deepened, no longer s0 inter-

ested in subjects which advertised the rosy future and their country's changed ways. The

Japanese n0 longer needed to regard themselves as model citizens of the future. It was ltow

possible to return to being "Japanese" in the traditional sense.

POSTWAR DEVELOPM ENTS

fhough the Occupation of Japan was not officially terrninated until the spring of 1952-I having lasted alrnost seven years, a period nearly twice as long as American involvernent

in World War Il-Japanese fihnrnakers had already begun to occupy themselves with again

defirring who they were. To do so, they wished to avoid, 0n one hand, the rhetoric aI and

115

lurouLunentalJapaneseness imposed by' the wartime govenrueut Aud, ou the other, the facile

copying of funericau progrant-pictures as required b),the late 0ccupation. Thus began a

period in which fihns reflected the harsher realities of postwar life.

The same transfornration wAS occnrring in auother defeated countn,, ItAlv, lvhere in the

ttel-reolisnto fihns of Roberto Rossellini and Vittorio De Sica audiences were recognizing

thenrselves 0n the screen: an inrage accepted because it wru true. In Japan, for the first time, a

nrajoril,v audience was now accepting

aud encouragiug films which showed

themselves as thev tmlv were, rather

than zu thev were told to be or as the1,

wished to be.

One of the results was indeed tr

new kind of realisnr. This sh'le, as Erich

Auerbach renrinds us, is always for its

own sake. furvthing moral or religious

0r psychological lessens it, because

reality is onlv that which can be made

real to the seuses. Postwar Japanese

filnr became realisticallv detailed and

nuanced, looking nrore like lif'e itself.

The bombed-out set for Kurosirwzl

Akira's Drurften furyel (Yoidore ternhi,

lg4S)-ecouonlically reused from Ya-

mrtrrroto Kajiro's IVeu' Age of' Fools

(Shirr baka jidai ,, 1947)-looked pre-

ciselv like nranv of Tokvo's bombed-

out sections; the dark, miued 0saka

streets of Nlizoguchi's Wlmen oJ' the

tVi,(tl (Yom lto oltuu-tachi, 1948) were

identical to those sllrroLurding the

theaters where the filnr was initiallv

seen; the nrakeshift honres and squalid

roonls of Ozu Yasnjiro's Recorul ol'rt'l'en em et t Gentlem ol t (Nagal,a shirt-

slri-roku . 1947) looked just like those

in which the nrajoritl' 0f nroviegoers

lived

116

Drunken Angel,194B, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro,

Shimura Takashi

Women of the Ntght, 1948, Mizoguchi Kenji, with Urabe

Kumeko, Tanaka Kinuyo

Becord of a Tenement Gentleman, 194J ,Ozu Yasujiro, withlida Choko, Kawamura Reikichi

In a sense, all .frqxurese cinenur lrecanre, for a serrs0n, shonringeki, All lilnrs lvere about

the "little people" because, for the tinre being, even'olre was "little," p00r, just scrutping lti'. As

Atthur Nolletti renrincls Lls, "'fhe shonrirrgeki wus rtctuallv a broacl, all-inclusive geure . . . as

such it lvas able to acconrnroclltte lur olten lvide zurd dispaLate range of nrateriltl iurd nroocls,

ruu0ng tltertt flrce, light conreclr', lvricisnr, socilrl criticisnr, encl nreloclrunr[. . . The genre

erhibitecl renltrkable l'ltLietv in strtrctule, thenuttic enrphasis, and, nrost of all, sh'le." s Anrid

this vurieh', the poshvar uuclience wirs hrqrpv looking at what it thought lvus itself.

I'he nror'ie u'hich is said to hul,e luunched the shonringeki Lel ivul is Nuruse llikio's

lleltrtsl (Ileshi, l95l). Basecl orl Hltt'ashi Ftrntiko's last ltttcl ttttfirtished ttotel, lrttil writtert bv

Icle Toshiro ancl Tlumku Sunrie, it is

ltbout tr poor white-collur worker'-the

Itventge .|ltpanese "sltllur ttli111"-i11161

his ivif'e The couple decicles to blelrk up

beclurse ther canltot nlrke 1i go ol it. In

the encl, tltev teltlize thev lu'e not ltlone

in their'plight, thut there ure lnunv

othels just like theru.

,-l .fttltrn tese 71'rt,gerl.l' ( Nihcln n0

higeki, 1953), ivritten und directed bv

Kinoshitrt Keisuke (no lelution to Ku-

nrei's urrfortunirte docunrentlul ol the

siune niune), \\,irs tnotliel lihl rvhich

told ubout the difficulties of the little

people. It begun with pristlvltr news-

leels (the enrperor', IIav Dru' rrots, dis-

lusters, cLinres), then a title ("Life isn't

elNt"'), tollor,r'erl bv lurother ("All over

.|rtprur theLe is dlukness" ), arxl a cut to

the nutin title The tnrgedv is personi-

lied br'tr ntother ivho ntakes ever\'

sacrifice ftlr heL chilclren,0nli'to hlrve AJapaneseTragedy, 1953, Kirroshita Keisuke

tltenr reject her.

Though erperirttentrtl in foLnt (clocunrentruv footage, newspalter clips, flashbacks), the

picture wtts seelt its rur ltccuLltte reflection of societv at large. It r,vlts also seelt trs fitting into

the I'aLious subgenres now uppeaLing. If llepusl wus saicl to be allloltg the lirst fihls about

wit'es (/stttttrt-nt0tt0),,1 .frtft(tttesa Ti'tt,qerl.l'\\ras seen lrs one of the e:rrlieL postwar fihtrs

aborrt rnothers (ltrtltu -n t ot t o),

All these iilnrs ntake use of "Anrerican" clevices: fust cutting, big close-ups, exptessive

Bepast,1951, Naruse Mikio, with Hara Setsuko, Uehara Ken

H7

camera llovelnents. At the same tirne there was au avoidance of anything hitherto officially

identified as 'Japanese." The lnonlulental style had been swept away: all was now lnove-

tttettt, lightness, novelty. In a *2y, it was Taisho all over again-new ways of showing, new

ways of viewing, and, instead of Lubitsch, there were ltew, realistic, American directors: John

Ford, Williarn Wyler.

Gosho Heinosuke, whose stvle had always been eclectic, handled this latest accent with

great skill and created perhaps the most popular of the ltew shomingeki in Were Chirnrtq,s

Are Seen (Entotsu no mieru basho , aka Three ChirnneysArorn Where Chimneys Are Seen,

195il. Written by Oguni Hideo (the "hrunanist" 0n the Kurosawa Akira writing team) after a

Shiina Rinzo novel, the script was pLlryosely episodic in structure. Though centering around

the attecdote of an nnwelcorne baby, the

film cor-rld be seen as a "conedy," a

"ronrance," 0r a"ftagedy," Gosho's gift

for blending geures was never more

apparent, and each event related to the

central philosophy of the film.

Irr Where Chimnel,s Are Seen, the

factory chimneys under which the resi-

dents of an industrial subr-rrb of Tokyo

live become symbolic of an attitude

toward life, one which had long been

identified with Gosho himself. The protagonist looks at the chimneys, positioned so that from

different directions they ne\€r appeff the sarne, and says that life is as each person sees it: "lt

can be sweet or it can be bitter-whichever you are,"

Thotrgh the postwarJaparrese audience found the new films realistic,Jaysan, as we have

seen, was never enthusiastic abor,rt mimesis. Indeed, this particular Gosho film has itself been

found typical of the ambiguify generally

characteristic of the Japanese approach

to a "slice of life." Raw "reality" is always

tempered, and it is a rare Japanese fihn

which attempts anything more.

Irttai Tadashi's Artcl I'et We Lit,e

(Dokkoi ikiteru, 1951), Japan's first

independently produced film-rnade

outside the najor studios by the newly

formed Kindai Eiga-was one such rure

film. The film's ir-rspiration was De Sica's

IIu

Where Chrmneys Are Seen, 1953, Gosho Heinosuke,

with Tanaka Kinuyo, Uehara Ken.

And Yet We 1ive,1951, lmai Tadashi. The Ueno Station

sequence

The Bicl,cle Tltief (194D. Imai shot on the streets of Tokyo, arolurd the ntajor dowutowrt

railway tenlinal of Lleno. His camera was often hidden, and the cltaracters were sometinres

placed iu real situations. At the same time, the actors inclnded stars, merubers of the Zen-

shin-za, aud a famor-rs left-wing drama troupe; Iurai eveu engaged a production designer.

Japan's documentary-like realism was always tempered. Similarly, Kurosawa had Matsu-

yama So design Sh'rq), Do{4 (Nora inn, 194D, though it too wru shot nainly on the streets of

dowutown Tokvo. Like Iurai, he did this to create a realism independent of reality.

To be sllre, all film directors, regardless of nationality, temper their realism, but a ulur-

ber (the postwar Italians, for exarnple)

also make realistic fidelity zur aiur. Irr

Japan, the goal was elsewhere. Even

though realism as a sffle became nruch

lulore realistic, postwar filnr was still

thought of as a presented experience,

one which was controlled and did not

simplv represerlt whatever occurred iu

front of the calnera. Perhaps because

realisn cau be felt but not interpreted,

Japanese directors made few naturalistic

experiments, seeking rather for the rneaus to inftrse further rneauing into realisrtr.

OZU AND NARUSE

Th. postwar films of Ozu Yasujiro and Naruse Mikio are exarnples of the ways in which

I iuflnences both traditional and modern were blended and the nleans by which "realism"

retained its Japanese accent. Early on Ozu had both consolidated his influences and mini-

rralized his rneans. Now, after World War II, these two characteristics becarne further refined.

Unlike many foreign directors, but not unlike a number of Japanese, Ozn usually worked

with the same crew and often the same cast: his cowriter Noda Kogo, his cameranau Atsuta

Yuharu, art director Hamada Tasuo, and editor Harlamura Yoshiyasu. This staff stayed

togetlrer for nearly fifteen years-from A Hen in the Wncl (Kaze no naka n0 rreudori,

1948) to Art Atthtrnrt Afternlln (Sanuna no aji, 1962). In addition, his actors were often

the satue: Hara Setsuko, Ryu Chishu, Tanaka Kinnyo, Sugimura Haruko, t0 nane a few.

Likewise, 0zll's methods remained the saure. The scripting, for example, was alnost

invariably begun by inventing the dialogue (it was sornetimes only later that the writers

assigrred the speakers and the setting), and it was often a typical phrase that was the genesis

119

Stray D09,1949, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro

of a film. Though this wav of workiltg was not consistent, it does suggest an assumed cast of

characters to whom such typical phrases were likely.

This was the Japanese family, and this initial core dialogue led to further situations and

often developed into anecdotes-but not, Ozu maintained, a plot. "Pictnres with obvious

plots bore rle. Naturally, a filrn tnust ltave sorre kind of structure 0r else it is not a film, but I

feel that a picture is no good if it has too mnch dranta."') Later, Ozu would be farlous for

saying that plot nsed people, and to nse

people was to misuse them.

We can only infer that it was his

characters' singular likeness to compli-

cated life that attracted him to thenr

and that he had no use for the simpli-

fied characters s0 often demanded by

plotted drana. Certainly the situations

in which Ozu's characters were placed

rnade no such denands. In Lnte Sprhry

(Banshun, 194D, the interest is in the

muted relations between father and

dauglrter; in Lute Autunur (Akibiyori,

1950), the relationship is duplicated

beMeen mother aud daughter; and in

Art Aututtnt AJiertrcln, the focus is

again upou father and daughter. ht

Tokl,o Storl' (Tok,vo rroltogatari, 195il,

Ozu and Noda examine the relations

between the generations, a theme which

resurfaces in Equinol Flou,er (Higan-

banA, 1958).

Ozn was aware of this narrowness of

focus (or, if one prefers, this depth). 0f

Att Autrtmtt Aftet'nlzn, he said: "This

film, as usllAl, is about a lltalt with a

daughter s00n to be married. I've

always said I dou't make anything

besides tofu.:'' r0 flg later, Llpon another

occasion, elaborated: "l'm like a toftr

shop-so even when making a brand

120

Late Spring, 1949,02u Yasujiro, with Ryu Chishu, Sugi-mura Haruko, Hara Setsuko

Late Autumn, 1960, Ozu Yasujiro, with Hara Setsuko,Tsukasa Yoko

An Autumn Afternoon, 1962, Ozu Yasujiro, Nakamura

Nobuo, Kita Ryuji, Ryu Chishu

new fihn, I can't suddenlv change to

something cornpletely different. It has

to be something like maybe fried tofu

or stuffed tofu, but certainly not pork

ctttlets." ll

Ozu and Noda would render their

anecdotes even nlore laconic. It some-

times seenls that the Ozu picture le'aves

ont r]rore than it includes. One critic

stated that Ozu wzrs I director for

whom "rurintentional information was

nnwanted noise. " Ltte Sprhtg leaves

out the eutire finale, the wedding cere-

nrorry; Att Autunttt AJiernoolz cr-rts or,rt

both the arranged meetings and the

courtship, as well as the wedding. hr

these films we know the daughter has

left onlv because the following sceues

finds tlre father aloue . In Lute Sprhry,

the father returns home, sits down, and,

rtot permitting himself even a sigh,

begins to peel a piece of fruit. We watch his face, we look at his hands, and we feel his soli-

tude. The ensuiug final scelle, waves breaking 0u A nearbv beach, suggests that this solitude

is peLrnanent. The reasons for lezwing ont that great plot-closLlre, the weddiug, becomes

appareut. Ozu wishes us to consider sorrething more truthful-we Are rarely together, we

are LlsuAlly alone.

The ellipses of 0zr-r fihns always have

(Bakushu, 1951), we are not shown the

wedding but there is a nuptial reference,

and the suggestion is made that one snch

ceremony is rluch like another. As the

anecdote fades away we feel what Ozu

intended when he said that "l tried to

portra.v the cycle of life lrinnel. I wznn't

interested in action fbr its own sake . . ." r'l

Such traditioual arnbitious alwavs

worked well with Ozn's modernist

this puryose. At the conclusiou of Enrll' Sutrtnter

Tokyo 5t0ry,1953, Ozu Yasujiro, with Yamamura So, Hara

Setsuko, Sugimura Haruko, Kagawa Kyoko, Higashiyama

Chieko

Equinox Flower,195B, Ozu Yasujiro, with Tanaka Kinuyo,

Saburi Shin

Early Summer, 1951 0zu Yasujiro, with Miyake Kuniko,

Nihonyanagi Kan, Hara Setsuko

121

structure, perhaps because both were so obviousl,v a part of the colurtrr's identification.

Speaking 0f Equirtol Flou'er and the conflict anrong generatious,Ozu said that todar''s

yollng people will become just like their parents. "The\''ll instinctivelv behave the sanre wav.

Feudalism hasn't really disappeared fronr theJapanese heart." rj

fuuortg the ways that 0zr-r accomplished the creation of such a highl,v cohesive body of

work was that he was able to coutrol the way the film looked. During his career Ozu worked

with two camerAmen only, Shigehara Hideo and Atsuta Yuharu. He worked with Shigehara

frortt the start, in 1928, up until the cinematographer's retirement, in 1938 Atsuta had been

Slrigelrara's apprentice and was alreadv his assistant on Dreunts 0f Iouth (Wakodo n0

vunre, I92B). Thus, the Ozu "look" they had cLeated could be contiuued. Later Ozu would

speak with appreciation of Nlivagawa Kazuo and his work on Floulitrg Weerl,s (Ukikusa, AkA

Drifting Weeds, 1959), during the course of whose filnring he apparerttll' taught the director

all about color photograph.v.

But camerAmeu have to have something to photograph, and this is usuall.v the actor. Yet,

as has been rrentioned, Ozu wAS not actor-friendly. 0f his later filnrs he once said: "YoLl

wou't find any particularlv new techniques except for the elinriuatiou of acting. When laughs

and tears are as inflated as the,v are in most films toda1,, trained rnonkevs would be perfectly

adequate as actors. Actually moments of joy zurd sorrow are times wherr we keep ollr emotion

most to ourselves. I minirnize the acting in my fihls because life is like this."r*

From the actor's perspective, there are manv horror stories, one of the least harrowing of

which is that of Ryu Chishu, so often the archetypal Ozu father. "Or'rce I followed Ozu's pre-

cise instructions nrore than twenq, fimes, but each tirle I wertt before the cantera, I failed to

convey the proper feeling and s0 we finally gave Llp." r'

Everything was rigidly controlled. Shinoda Masahiro remembers that wlten lte was an

assistarrt director 0n the set of Tokl'o Tu'iligltl (Tokvo boshokt\ 1957), Ozu told him to pnt

down an extra cushiou in a scene thev were filming. The voung assistant was pllzzled: no

other character would be entering to sit

0u it, and it ruiued the continuif,v.

When he asked its function, Ozu told

him to look through the viewfinder

and see if he saw anvthing different. He

didn't. Ozn theu said that something

was obstructing the composition. "'lt's

that black border on the tatanri mats

that ruins it,' explained Ozu. The cush-

ion was produced aud the borders

covefed."l('

122

Tokyo Twilight, 1957, Ozu Yasujiro, with Hara Setsuko,

Arima lneko

0zu's seuse of composition remained paramouut throughout his career. It was s0

extreme that it led some critics to press charges of formalisn during a time when suclr

charges held unfavorable implications. In actnaliry, Ozu's modemist-inspired forrnalism was

intriusic to a system of aesthetics which depended rnuch upon the traditional view.

The traditional view is the view in repose, commanding a limited field but comrranding

it entirelv. It is the attitude for watching, for listening, even for learning. Some have conse-

quently compared this position with that of the haiku poet, the tea rlaster, eveu the priest.

Ozu would perhaps have srliled at these comparisons, but it could be said that such a view is

inextricable from Buddhist precepts. This vantage point puts the world at a distance and

leaves the spectator uninvolved, a recorder of irlpressions which he may register but which

do not necessarily involve him.

Emptv roouts, uninhabited landscapes, objects (rocks, trees, beer bottles, tea kettles), tex-

tures (shadows 0n paper-paneledshoji, the grain of tatami)-all play a large part in Ozu's

later filttts, and a studied simpliciff of view is matched by a like simplicif,v of construction.

The seqlleuce is neeu invariable: usnally a r00m in a home is showr, someone entem, the

artecdotal point is made in conversation, someone leaves, tlre room is shown empty. These

sequeuces are arranged in an order which is lypically punctuated by shots on the way to the

new location. These, as it were, move us there, sometiures accornpanied b,l abridge of music,

sortretirles not.

Formalistic as such a procedure might seem, it is never rigidlv presented. For example,

tlre operring sequence of Late Sprin,q-three shots of Kita Kamakura Station, a temple roof,

Enkaku-ji temple as seen from the station, then a shot of Noriko at aformal tea ceretllouy.

Noriko's aunt appears with a;sair of trousers she wants Noriko to mend. In particular, she

would like her to "reinforce the seat." The higher aspirations of spatial geometry and the tea

ceremony are pllrposely contrasted with such mundane efforts as reinforcing the trousers'

seat. The structure is highly fonlalized but the presentatiou is decidedly informal.

Besides such spatial forrnality, another influence 0n Ozn's presentation of selected realiry

was the shishosetsu, the autobiographical novel, particularly the work of Shiga Naoya, the sole

autlror Ozu revered and whom, in his journals, he reverently refers to as Master (sutsei), a

term the director othenvise abhorred and forbade in reference to lrimself. It has been pointed

out by critic Imanura Taihei, arnong othen, that both Shiga and Ozu share what he called a

tvpicalJapanese attitude. The obseruer simply tries to recall details of a phenomelton instead

of analytically reconstructing it.

While Western plot stresses occurrence, causality, and responsibility, Japan's traditional

narrative means, the sttii, ernphasizes sequential flow, connection, association. The pre-

sumedJapaneseness of 0zu's approach-his emplrasis upon effect rather than cause, upotl

etnotion rather than intellect-coupled with his abiliff to metamoryhose Japanese aesthetics

12.7

into terms and images visible on film-is what makes hirn, as is so often said, "the most

Japanese of all directors."

Ozu's postwar 'Japaueseness" was, from Shochiku's point of view, precisely the reason

the director was given such freedom: he was allowed to make any film he wanted, and his

films' often large production costs were unquestionabl.v accepted. Not only did Ozu's films do

fairly well at the box office, they werc Also, somehow, 'JApAnese" in the sense that Kido Shiro

uuderstood it.

Such traditionalisru, however, is not to be seen as opposed to the director's modernisrl.

0zu's career tollowed a pattern which has long beeu noticeable in the lives of ntauy Japa-

ltese: a period of early exploration among things Westertt, followed by a slow and gradual

retunt to things lnore purelyJapAnese. There is another pattern lris career paralleled, tltis otte

still more universal. When yolluger, one is more radically individualistic; older, oue oftett

becomes lnore coltseruative, and individual stvle rnerges with what is lnore cotltuonly

accepted.

These very patterus are in turn celebrated in Ozu films. Draruatic tension is obtained by

the confroutatiolts alloug various individuals who are in different sections of the pattent: a

father who has "returned," for example, stands in contraposition to zt daughter wlto is on her

"wAy out." This is the pattern of Equirto.v Flou,er, and it is this fihn, as already mentioned,

which Ozn saw as a demonstration of the surival of the traditional.

In the later fihrs there is uever rluch doubt as to where in the overlapping pattenls Ozn's

syrnpathies lie. For this reAson there wAS A period after the director"s death wlteu the young

disliked his work, calling it old-fashioned, reactionary. This attitude is also reflected in the

writings of those Westenr critics who find the late filrns merely torrlalistic acadeuric exercises.

htdeed, Ozu would appear reactionary, since he so continuallv celebrated those very qual-

ities against which youngJapan was in revolt: the traditional virtues of their countn'. Nso. zts

he himself moved up the social ladder, from the "little people" t0 the upper bourgeoisie, so

did his characters. The fathers of Pnssirts4 Fancl'(Dekigokoro, I93T andAn Aututnrt After-

n00n dirylay vast social differences, and this, to a certain mentality, is difficult to forgive.

Tlrat these traditiornlJapanese virtues are rlainly theoretical irt everyday Japan iu no

way lessens the cLiticism, nor does it underrnine Ozll's position. Restraiut, simplicity, and

near-Buddhist serenity are qualities which still remain as ideals in the coutttryr, and 0zu's

insistence Llpon them as well as the public feeling for or against tltertt ntake tltese llore tltau

ernpty hypotheses. 0r did. Now that the Japarlese have reached the point wltere they have

ceased to be so acutely aware of the distinction between what is Japanese and what is foreigtt,

the entire argulnent becolnes academic. Nonetheless, irt accounting for what occurred, one

must consider forces no longer vital. While it is true thatJapanese tradition has ceased to be

an issue, its role in helping forrn Jaysan is unequivocal.

124

Interestingly, following the traditional sunnise results in a shared intimacy. Once we join

tlre family in Tokys Stor1,, we do not want the film to end because we would have to leave

these people whom we have come to understand. Ozu's assumptions are based upon the

perceivedfactthat all of Lls are together in this big mess called life.

funong the many affecting and telling exchanges in this film is the one in which the old

couple, on their way back home from their disappointing Tokyo trip, sum up their lives.

Tomi: Koichi's changed too. He used to be such a nice boy.

Shukichi; Children don't live up to their parents' expectations. (They both smile.)

But, if you're greedy then there's no end to it. Let's think that they are bet-

ter than most.

Tomi; They arc certainly better than avenge. We are fortunate.

Shukichi; Yes, fortunate. We should consider ourselves luclry.'7

We are lucky because we can still compare ourselves to others in ollr group and find that we

are not wanting. This is a traditional assumption and one which Ozu maintained until the

end. 0n his deathbed and still capable of irony, the director is reported to have said during a

visit by his producer: "Well, Mr. Kido, it lools like home-dranta to the end."

Ozu's \ater traditional assumptions can be more clearly understood when compared with

tlrose of a less traditionally-minded director. Sato Tadao has compared Naruse's assumptions

with those of Ozu. "Naruse assunes the free attitude of observing his characters as strangers,

lrinrself as an outsider, while Ozu assumes the lirnited attitude of meeting his [characters] as

both an acquaintance and a host. This is why the range of Ozu's observations is so remark-

ably narrow."r8 Naruse certainly meditates upon traditional problens, but these are not just

the accepting reflection of Ozu. Naruse seems to imply, in most of his films, that his chaLac-

ten are right to fight against tradition, to atternpt to escape, even when they cannot.

It is true that the traditionalJapanese outlook is limiting, for better or for worse, and that

the majority of Japanese film directors considering these values (and almost everyJapanese

director had to, so much were they apafiof.Japanese life) agreed that this limitation was for

the worse, though the disrnissal of tradition is not always as abrupt as in that of a Kurosawa

or an Imai.

In a Naruse film, the family is usually held together by bonds so strong that no single

member can break them. "My filrns deal exclusively with the horne. So do most Japanese

filrns. It is in this fact that we find antajor fault of Japanese pictures-the home is simply

125

too ttarrow a place in which to set eventhing . . . I've been fihning smallJapanese roonts for

so long that wide screen doestt't end up being an.vthing especially different." r') If a farnily'

tuetuber does lltallage to break free fronr this domestic prison-as does the heroine of

Urtumerl (fu'akure, 1957)-she (or he) will rcurain outside the system and be more or less free.

This is unlike An Ozu filnt, wltere the dissolving of fanrilial bonds (the director's pererurial

theme) is seen as a distinct loss. The cot4lles

itt Naruse's Relust, Husbuncl unrl Wfe

(l'trfu, 195r, and W?fe (Tsunra, 1953) are

locked up together, as aLe the siblings in

)lcler Brother, I oturyer Sister' (Ari inroto,

aka Frbre et Soeur , 1953.) The older geisha

in kte Clnl,srntlrcntunN (Bangiku ,1954)

attempts to break free and rennite with arr

old lover only to face disappointment. The

geisha rn Flou,rir.g (NagarerLl, 1956) Are

already at the end of their ecoltolnic free-

donr, though they don't 1,et know it. For

Nzlruse, traditional life is a dail,v round of

fixed crntoms. Even the w'avs of expressing

ernotiou are formalized. Thus the slightest

personal emotioual reaction has major and

often unfortunate consequences.

So, too, in lllother (Okasan ,, 1952),

which Naruse called his "happiest" fihr,

the mother, unable to support her faruily

now that her husband is dead, has onlv

the alternative of sending off her voungest

daughter to relatives who cau ztfford her.

For the daughter this lna,v lneall freedom,

but for the mother it means loss. Though

the director had no say in the creation of

the script ("it was uever an idea 0r a pro-

posal, I was offered the finished script, arr

original screenplay b.v Mizuki Yoko"), he

accepted it at oltce because it was "about

hardships in the fanrily, which is the

thing I understand best of ail.":rt

126

Naruse Mikio, with Yamada lsuzu, Kur-

Mother,1952, Naruse Mikio, with Kagawa Kyoto, 0kadaEiji

Wife,1953, Naruse Mikio, with Takamine Mieko

Flowing,1956,ishima Sumiko

r1

Li- {

I li!

Tragedy is constantly hanging over NAruse's characters, and they Are never more vuluer-

able than when they for once decide upon a personal course of action. In Ozu a similar

tragedy is uerted through acceptance. hr Naruse, il averted at all, it is because the protago-

rrists find a kind of freedom in their mere resolve. The heroine of WiJb, Be Like a Rose

(1935) sees her father find coutentment in the midst of nnhappiness. ht Euening Streunt

(Yoru l'lo ltAgare, 1950), the .vouug daughter-loving her nrother's lover-conscioush'

turrrs toward the tLaditional: she becomes a geisha. In Replsl,, the wife decides that the differ-

euces between her and her husband constitute a bond. "M),husband here, zuleep beside me,"

she sa,vs at the end of the film. "Perhaps I anr h.ppy . . . mavbe nry happiness, mv happiness

as a wonran--<l0eslt't it lie here?"

F'or Naruse, the relativistic optimisnr

of Ozu's films is irnpossible. That fine

strrdv of postwar despzrir, Nzrruse's Flout-

htg Clourls (Ukigluno, 1955), is a tragedy

preciselv because the heroine Lursuccess-

fullv decides to get fronr lif'e what she

wants, even if only this once. The director

embraced a similar resolve: "Mv object was

the same lu hers-to pLlrsue the problenr

betweert men and women to the very end,

n0 matter how painftrl. Mizuki's script

[after LL Hayashi l.'unriko novel] was

sonrethiug great, aud after I had finishecl

shooting I lnew I'd portrayed exactlv what

I wanted in exactly the way I wzurted." rr

The heroiue (Takamine Hideko) fights

against the hopelessness of poverty-stricken

postwar lif'e and achieves a kind of recog-

nition onl1, after she dies. The man she

loved (Mori Masayuki) realizes, too late,

that he loved her as well and, in a touching scene, makes up-literally: he applies lipstick to

her dead face before the funeral. In Wtert u Wornrtn Ascertcls the Stnirs (Onna gakaidalt w0

nobortr toki, 1950) , a Grnza baL madame (Takamine again) is profoundly dissatisfied with

Iter entpry lif'e. Yet when she makes one gesture toward freedom, evelything goes wrong. She

retreats. Again she climbs the stairs to her bar-the motif which appears over and over in

the film with its ironic suggestion of "getting to the top"-and in the final scene we watclr

as lter face once urore asslunes the mask of the entertainer.

Floating Clouds, 1955, Naruse

Hideko, Mori Masayuki.

Mikio, with Takamine

When a Woman Ascends the Stairs, 1960, Naruse

Mikio

127

Yet Naruse also shows us froru time to time that the charActers' ignorance of approaching

doom, their fortunate iunoceltce, constitutes a kind of beauf,1, a sort of strength. Though

happiness is intpossible, conterttrllgll[-however unwisely based-may yet be achieved.

Such is the case in the long, unfolding final seqllence, a kiud of coda without dialogue, At

the conclusion of Flou,in g. Only the elderl.v maid (Tanaka Kinuyo) larows what will happen

in the geisha house where she works-that the house has been sold, that there are only a

few more weeks left in which to enjol/ a seemingly secure life. The others continue as they

always have. The daughter (Takarline Hideko), who will never again try to escApe, conteut-

edly works her sewing machine; the mother (Yamada Isuzu) hoping for the future, practices

her samisen.

It would have been out of the question for directors to make such cohereut statements as

Ozn and Naruse did had they not enjoyed the full backing of their studios. Most film directors

had no choice in what they directed. They took what they were given. Increasingly, in post-

war Japanese cinema, directors had been refused the status given Ozu, Naruse, or Mizoguchi.

Newer directors had fewer options, and such auteur-like "staterrents" become rarer. It was

only a very/ strong-willed director, such as "Ernperor" Kurosawa Akira, who could achieve

this coutrol.

Naruse, ouce he had left Shochiku, found company sLlppot't. Originally PCL extended this

becatrse of the money-making novelty of such films asWif'e, Be Like t Rose. Contemporary-

looking, with willful heroines, filled with the latest techniqnes from Hollpvood, theSe pictures

were seerl as modern, untraditional, even attractively "Westem." In a rare rnoment of

humor, Naruse dubbed PCL (Photo-Chernical Laboratories) "Pork-Cutlet-Lard," zr reference

to its Western-tinged outpnt that also reflected the Japanese perception of foreign food.

Yet, as the traditional returned during the prewar years, Naruse's pictures carre to be seelr

as conseruative and hence eqllally bankable. When PCL was incorporated into Toho, Naruse

was a part of the package. fuid though he was given a number of scripts uncongenial to [rim,

he was nonetheless often allowed to make those he reallv wanted to. In this wxy, with

the writers, actors, aud technicians he had in his unit, he wzu able to build an "oeLlvre" altd

become what would later be knowu as an auteur.

Naruse's visiou becarue, as he grew older, lltore and more traditional. While tradition

itself was seen as one of the major impediments to a h'appy life, it was precisel.v these fought-

against views that infornred his view of lif'e. Narulse's lneAns, peLhaps couseqLreutlv, also

became highly traditional.

Like aZen mAster, Naruse refused to define. Tanaka Sumie, with whorn a large part of

Repust wzu written, said the director would dernand "hundreds of pages of rewrites" withont

clarifying what it was he wauted. According to Mizuki Yoko, "NAmse always refused to dis-

clrss, 0r even mention, meaning or theory. Sometimes I wonld say, 'Tlte tlterue should-'

128

and he would gently but firrnly cut rne off by saying: 'lt will come out by itself.' " 'r r Many are

the stories of actors driven to despair by the director's unwillingness (or inabiliry) to describe

wlrat lre wanted. Nakadai Tatsuya (who played the bartender inWhen a Woman Ascmck

the Stairs) said that he had never in his entire career suffered such frustration.

Naruse's filmmaking methods themselves became more and nrore conservative. "l

rnoved less and less until I finally stopped altogether. Repast contained very little camera

lnovernent, you couldn't find a single instance in lllother, andthe only cametamovement in

Lighfuing [lnazum a, 1952] was necessitated by an actor's movenent." rl

It is singular to find Naruse drawing so close to Ozu but, as we have seeu, they had never

been far apart. They liked each other's fihrs, and Kido was acknowledging a certain resen-

blance when he said that he didn't need another Ozu. Yet in fact, Naruse is an alternative to

0zu. The difference is in their attitudes toward the traditional. Ozu more or less accepted it

and Naruse more or less did not.

0n the other hand, the directors' means are close, and at times their attitudes toward the

traditional, toward"Japaneselless," can seem identical. They even cone together 0n a major

theme of Japanese classical literature, the celebration of evauescerlce, nono n0 awarc, whiclr

they see in purely cinematic terms. Ozu has said he felt earl,y 0n that aII films were

ephenreral nonsense and that he still believed "the attractive thing about film is this tran-

sience, this rnistlike vanishing quality."'* Similarly, Naruse was of the opinion that films

"always vanish a few weels after release. Perhaps this is what fihns should be, things that live

on only in the audience's rlrenory/ 0r else vanish into thin air."r5

MIZOCUCHI AND THE PERIOD-FILM

Th. traditional view is not the only one, and a coltceru with traditional problems is not

I the Japanese director's only concern. The couutry is as contemporary/ as it is traditional,

as fonvard-as it is baclavard-looking, as radic al as it is conseruative . If a concern for the tra-

ditional might suggest a similarily among those directors who interest thernselves in it, there

is, at the same tirne, the greatest divergence and dissimilarity among those directors who

interest thernselves in the less traditional.

Naturally, all good directors, traditional-minded or otheruise, are individualists. This is

as true for Ozu, Naruse, and Mizoguchi as it is for Kurosawa, IchikawaKon, and Imamura

Shohei. The only directors who are not individualists are those not seriously interested in

making good fihns. Ozu cherished his self-irnposed limitations; Kurosawa would not tolerate

linritations. One might even arlange this tolerance of limitations on a kind of scale in which

C\zu would represent the extreme right and Kurosawa the extreme left.

Mizoguchi might be placed in the middle of the spectrum, since his fihns partake of both

129

extremes, Indeed, in such a picture rc Sisters of the Giort (1935), both extremes are personi-

fied: the elder sister is from a world which Ozu knows well, the younger might eventually fit

into tlre world of Kurosawa. Mizoguchi himself perhaps thought so. Apropos of his attitude

toward limitations and his use of realism he once said to Shimizu Hiroshi: "l portray the

extraordinary in a realistic way. jzu portrays the ordinary/ in a realistic way-which is everr

rnore difficult." 16

Certainly one finds in Mizoguchi, particularly in the postwar films, abalance betweeu

classic poles: the acceptance of traditional values (the affirmation of the home, the joy of

finding freedorn in restraint) and the vindication of the individual (the irrpatience with

restraint, the criticism of older values, the ioy of overcoming obstacles and enlarging hori-

zons). This is especially apparent in a single but importaut aspect of N,lizoguchi's later films:

his treatment of women. The director's rnajor theme (in spite of his eclecticisrl, all of

Mizoguchi's pictures cau be seerl as arranged around a theme) is women: their position, or

lack of it; their difference frorn men; their relations with rnen; and the intricate relationship

between women and love.

ugetsu (Ugetsu nonogatan, 1953) presents the therne in perfected form. A potter (Mori

Masayuki), caught between opposing forces in the sixteeuth-century civil wars, leaves his

wife (Tarnka Kinuyo) and small son behind, and goes to sell his wares. There, a beautiful

Iady (Kyo Machiko) buys his stock, takes him home, and sedLlces him. He stays on only to

awaken and find both mansion and lady gone. He has been enchanted; the \ady was a ghost.

When he finally reaches home, he discovers his rvife waiting for hirr. When he awakens the

next morning, he discovers thatshe, too, akeady dead, was also a spirit.

The two women rnight represent the opposite ends of Mizoguchi's thente. This is more

than sirnply profane verslls sacred love. Rather, both women died wanting love. The spirit in

the haunted mansion is to be equated, not contrasted, with the loyal and loving wife. They

are equal, and it is this parallel that

interests Mizoguchi.

Likewise , in [Jtctmaro ancl His Ffu,e

Womut, the poiut is that these wornen,

despite their differences, are equated by

tlreir love for the artist. In Wornen of

the Night, and in the director's last

filnr, Red Light District (Akasen chitai,

aka Street of Shame, 1956), the women,

dissirnilar in all else, are the same in

their hunger for love in the midst of

mercantile sex.

Red-light District,1956, Mizoguchi Kenji, with Kyo Machiko,Mimasu Aiko, Wakao Ayako, Urabe Kumeko, Sawamu ra

Sadako, Shindo Eitaro.

130

The Life of )haru,1952, Mizoguchi Kenji, with Tanaka Kinuyo.

Some fihls coutain within thern the extremes of Mizoguchi's richly ambivalent attitude

toward the traditional, while others insist upou but one extreme . The Lfe of )lt(n'u (Saikaku

ichidai onrrA, aka The Life of a Wornan by Saikaku , 1952) shows the heroine (Tanaka Ki-

rrrrvo) falling frorn court lady to common prostitute. It does so with such close regard that

the f'eudal institr,rtions under which she labors are revealed as responsible. In A Storj, frontCltifuntotsu (Chikamatsu monogatail, aka The Crucified Lovers ,1954), A woman (Kagawa

Kyoko) is forced into adultery by the very suspiciou of it. It is only after her jealous husband

drives her, irutocent, from his house that she beconres "guilty." In Sansho the Bailtlf (San-

slto dayu, 1954), mother and daughter (Tanaka Kinuyo and Kag awa Kyoko, respectively) are

bmtally separated and never reunited. When the son finally discovers his aged, blind rnother,

she does not ask what happeued to him, but rather she only asks after her daughter-

another womAu. In Tlte Princess Inng Ku,ei Fei (Yoki-hi, 1955), the Chinese concubine

(Kyo Machiko) so loves her emperor (Mori Masayuki) that she lives on after her executiou.

The final sceue finds the aged mler listening to the sound of her loving ghostly voice.

It might be thought unwise to categorize adirector judging merely by "content analysis,"

siuce most directors have no coutrol over their content-tlreir producers do. In the case of

Mizoguclti, however, content goes far toward describing character. The director was s0 erni-

ueut within Daiei that, like Ozu at Shochiku and Naruse at Toho, lre not only chose his owrr

tttaterial but his cameraman (MiyagawaKazuo), his writer (YodaYoshikata) as well as the

actors with whom he wished to work.

It is through the manner in which Mizoguchi made his fihns that the traditionalist in

hirn is nore clearly viewed. He was found old-fashioned-that is, traditional-because he

weu both literary and painterly: he thought in terms of character rather than calnera, and he

131

composed his scenes in a pictorially pleasing manner. Indeed, to remernber Mizoguchi's

films is often to rernenber a series of beautiful stills: the lovers on the lawn in (lgetsu,the

couple in the boat in A Storj,frorn Chikamntsu, the aged woman sitting in the stnt in T'he

Lfe of )harLt,the rnother and herchildren in the forest inSnnsho the Baihff.

Ugetsu,1953, Mizoguchi Kenji, the lawn scene, with Kyo Machiko,

Mori Masayuki.

A Story from Chikamatsu, 1954, Mizoguchi Kenji, the boat scene,

with Kagawa Kyoko, Hasegawa Kazuo.

Sansho the Bailiff, 1954, Mizoguchi Kenji, the forest scene, withTanaka Kinuyo (left)

132

It is perhaps indicative of Mizoguchi's growing concern with tradition that half of his

postwar films were jidaigeki while most of his prewar films were not. The director might have

disagreed with this staternent. He has said that he only began making his prewar historical

features because military censorship had become so strict that, though he wanted to continue

developing the realistic contemp orary experintents he had began in }saka Eleg', the

autlrorities forbade it. fuid as for hisTbe Lo1t67 Forty-Seuen Ronin,lte said: "We were virtu-

ally forced to rnake it." r7

0nce the Occupation was over, however, Mizoguchi became interested in the genre, whiclr

he saw as having suffered severe attrition. In 1952,Mizoguchi said that "since the deaths of

Yantanaka Sadao and Itami Mansaku, the period-film has become an utter shambles. Both

Ito Daisuke and Kinugasa Teinosuke are no longer active-they might as well have retired.

It oughtn't to be this way.":s

About the former director, Mizoguchi was later particularly stern: "lto Daisuke, who rnore

than auyone had defined the period-film's conventions for decades-giving [the films] a

dazzling vitality, found that his only recourse was to repeat his initial innovations with

increasing rxonotony and steriliry." re He was equ ally harsh about the general standafiiza-

tion of jidaigeki: "This descent into rigid stylization can be seen leven] in the yakuza-film

genre and the outlaw heroes portrayed by Tsuruta Koji and Takakura Keu."'r0

Mizoguchi would, in effect, create the style of the postwar jidaigeki, sornething which the

otlrer great period-filrn practitioner, Kurosawa, was happy to affinn when he said that

Mizoguchi was theJapanese director he most adrnired and respected, that he liked his period-

pieces, particul arly A Stor1, from Chikctmatsu .

Kurosawa, however, did not think Mizoguchi was particularly good with sanurai: "For

exarnple , Ugetsu, the battle scenes and swordfights. He couldn't really express sanurai emo-

tions. I suspect these scenes would have been better if he'd allowed me to direct them. After

all, when he did The Lo1t51l Fort1,-5srtan Rortin he left out the final climactic scene-the

saltlurai attack.".ir Indeed, Kurosawa's idea 0f "samurai emotions" was not compatible with

the kind of pictorial traditionalism toward which Mizoguchi was moving. Samurai needed

fast editing-as Kurosawa would go 0u to dernonstrate in Setten Samurai (Shichinin no

samurai, I954)-not the one-scene, olle-shot rnethod, the subject long held from far away.

Mizoguchi's realistic patterning of history, on the other hand, needed just this kind of

detailed distance. One long remembers, from Ugetsu, the potter and the princess almost lost

tn a field of superlative beauty; the little boy at the film's end who places the offering on his

mother's grave while the camera, with the gentlest, nost reverent of motions, begins to climb

until finally the entire settlement by the lake is seen in a long, still shot which rnatches the

slow pan from lake to village at the beginning of the film.

Mizogr-rchi's balancing of traditionalisrn's demands-condemning the moral conse-

133

quences while, to be sure, availing himself of the aesthetic means-has resulted in films

which illustrate the very dynamic which created thern. As the director Masumura Yasuzo, no

friend to tradition, has said: "Most filmrnakers feel a need to keep up with the latest fads by

ridirrg the crest of each 'new wave.' Bnt if 'modernizatton' is the standard of excellence, then

Mizoguchi is at the bottorn of the barrel. He never worked with new-wave ideas. In fact, he

portrayed the world of shirnpa, which was outdated before he began . . . His rigid abstinence

nray seem stupid to those who value the benefits of Westerntzation, but this stupidity is just

what led hirn to the truth."'jl

NEW MEANS:/UN-BUNCAKU, COMEDY, AND SOCIAL ISSUES

/\ s the Occupation ended and a more independent Ja;san was envisioned, directors

F\ iucreasingly searched out alternate roads to truth, beyond the traditional olle.

Concomitantly sought were the means to express these. The postwar emphasis upon the

individual rather than the group occasioned a number of changes, alnong them the very way

irr wlrich a uaftsuch as fihnmaking was learned.

The traditional method was u0 longer possible. Until the 1950s, established directors had

under them a stable of assistant directors. These were trained both directly and by exarnple in

the proper ways to make a filrn. Cornplementing these were like groups in which the chief

cameratnan had his pupils and the chief scriptwriter had his apprentices. In essence, tradi-

tion was taught-though very often older directors (Yamamoto Kajiro was a fantous exam-

ple) gave his youngsters very free rein.

Some have seen the break in tradition occurring because of the Toho strikes. Kurosawa

has said that "it was actually atthatpoint, with the firing of these youl'lg assistant directors,

tlrat lheJapanese film industry began its decline . . . I don't know if the older people stayed

on in the movie industry because young people weren't trained, or if young people werett't

trained because the older ones were staying s11-i11 any event, n0 one took time for training

young p€opls."'l'l

So, increasingly, the youltg people were forced to learn their trade as best they could.

Sonre found that (iust as in the early days of.Japanese cinema) the best school was a theater

slrowing Western filrns. The new young directors, particularly after the 0ccupation was over,

learned the lingua franca of cinema, what has been called the "Hollywood codes," by watch-

ing foreign pictures. Here, along with the new freedoms occasioned by both the end of World

War II and the conclusion of the Occupation, were new subjects and new attitudes as well as

new genres-{r old genres newly viewed.

One of the most important developrnents, along with the recently invertted genres of pos,t-

war colnedy and the social-issue film, was the revival of the jun-bungaku movenent. Ii it

134 , '

hld helped iorestall the pl'e\\,ar censors, it nor,v oflered in postivaL.fltpurt it witv to couuteL the

c0lnlnel'ciltlisnr of e srux,l,ing nunrber ol postri,rtr iilnrs-c0ncenred rn ntost of'tltern wele

Ivith capturing olt filnt the lirst kiss or the neil sensution oi the bclogie-lvoogie

Gosho Fleinosuke hud lorrg lelt thtrt "pule litenrture" oflered ltetter pr0spects lor cinenrt

thlrr conlltel'cial lictron. Ilere, he lurcl 'for,o(lrt Shito hrtcl pt'esented a ntore or less united

fLont. 'fher'\\'el'e able to interest tlieir studios irr their'ltlrurs bi'poittting out thltt the uudience,

ah'eaclv iuntilial rvith the book, woukl hence nx)re reudilv go see the filnr.

Gosho's intelest in clussic.fuplurese litenrture hegrur long before the wru, ivith his atlrptrt-

tion ol the Yanlunoto Yuzct nol'el Et'ct'.1'lhlttg 7'ltttl [,it'cs (lkitoshi ikeru r]tolto, 1931). After

the u'ul he tuLnecl u nuntber ol distinguishecl novels into clistinguishecl lilnrs. Tukunri .]Lrn's

rvrirk wru the blnis tor Orcc ,ll0re (hlzr hitotabino, 194T, Higuchi lchi)'o's trtr Grott'itt,q Uft

(l'akektrLalte, 1955), Odu SztkLrnrisuke's lor Ftrcflles (Flotunrbi, 195.9), uncl \'ususlti luoue's

tnr Huttlitrg llqfle (Rvo1u, 1961)

Gosho ulu,uls tried to piet fronr his litenul'originuls the best possible scripts, soruetirues b1

lvriting thenr hintself. His uinrs were deceptivelv sinrple. He elabot'ates: "'l'he pullosc of rt

lilnr clilector"s lif'e is to describe the Leal life uround hiru uucl creute ivorks wlticlt erpress tite

true feelings of hunuur lteings." i' Perhrtps that is one'of the rerls0ns whv he pref'ered to ivork

u'ith serious novels-the novelists' grxrls lurd his were one rurd the sarue.

I'he ntethocts were ulso sintilar'. A Gclsho lilnr sonretinres ltegins like e ltook In ll'ltere

('hlnttte.l'.s,1/'c, S)eett, a voice-o\/er in fimt peLson presents hinrself lurcl ltis r,vit'e to the ciunera.

("'l'his is ivltere we live, urrcl here is nl'lvife. And this"-shot of the brtLe loot of a nuur still

lnleep in the futon-"is llte.") Latel on in the iihn, Gosho, in rrovelist-like llrshion, chiurges

vielvpoint.'fhe olterring I'oice is thut of Llehuru Ken, plui'ing the husbuncl. At the cliurar, the

\'oice-o\'er is that ol Akutul]2rwa IJiroshi, pl:tying u tenrurt concentecl rtbciut the bztltt''

Thele is u sequence in,ht httr ltt )srtfut (Osaka no yudo,1954) rvhich owes rnLtch to the

contnrsts luore often seelt in fiction thun in lrhr. It begins lvrth u scene wltere the nraid kloks

Irt the drulving oi lt cow her son hln sent her.'fhen conles rt scene of crueltt,ittvolving the

callous landladr und the cclr,i' ctnnvirtg.

J'his is lollori,ed bv u funnv scene show-

ing the llurdlltdr"s renrorse, 'l'hen conres

the rertl herutbreaker. The nrother is foLced

to displav her f'erv belclngings in the seurclr

ftl'lt nrissing thousancl-r'en notc. fheir

sliubbiness is revealecl aklng u,ith the ter,v

snutll trx's she hln nlluraged to buv for'

her cliild should she be uble to tuke hinr

0n a trip, lur unlikelv el entualitr',An lnn rn 0saka,1954, Gosho Heinosuke, with Otowa

Nobuko and Sano Shuji

ljt

By carefully balancing and mixing the tender, the cruel, the comic, and the pitiful,

Gosho orchestrates the response he desires in a manller which places hirn in the tradition of

the great ttarrators, ltovelists. He shows us objects and allows the emotional content of each

to speak for itself. In the resulting conflict of emotion any thought of sentirnentality is lost.

Tlrat Art htrt in Osaku is not based on a uovel but on an original script by Yasumi Toshio

indicates evelt luore clearly the novelistic coltcents of both the scriptwriter and the director.

By refusing to colllnent, Gosho can get awaywith evelt lltore. At the end of Grou,irtl4 Qt,a boy gives the girl au iris. As she crosses the drawbridge into the house of prostitution, she

unthinkingly throws it away. The iris,

landing in a dirff canal, becomes a svm-

bol which through careful usage rlrau-

ages to regain sonrething of its original

Lrrgency. In the book b), Higuchi Ichiyo,

the author refused to explain. In the film,

Gosho reftrses to linger.

Toyoda Shiro brought his owu lneans

to the geure. One critic describes the

director's approach: "Toyoda subscribed

to the principles and practices of the rep-

reseutational narrative, yet his . . . liter-

ary depictions are a springboard to

experiences quite different from those of

the printed word." i5 Often written with

Yzrsumi Toshio, a sceltarist who special-

ized irr jun-bungaku adaptatiolts, Toyo-

dA's films begin from a novelistic origin,

then, in subtle ways transcend this llar-

rative.

In The Mish'ess (Gan, aka, Wild Geese,

195il, based 0n a Mori Ogai novella, ciuentatic rleans often take the place of verbal descrip-

tion. In the final scene, the young heroine walks along the pond where she first spoke with a

student whom she will not meet again. She tums to watch the wild geese as they start from

tlte marsh. Toyoda's camera turns to catch her face, and finds hope. The viewer is able to

corlplete the story.

X[cn'itul Rekfiiorts (Meoto zenzai, 1955), based on Yasurni Toshio's rendering of Oda

Sakunosuke's novel, takes as its theme the compronise between traditional ideals and per-

sonal freedon. The couple-a yollng no-good (Morishige Hisaya) and his geisha rlistress

t36

Growing Up, 1955, Gosho

lsuzu, Misora Hibari

Heinosuke, with Yamada

The Mistress, 1953, Toyoda Shiro, with Akutagawa Hiroshi,

Takamine Hideko

(Awzuhirna Chikage)-eventually, alntost

without kuowiug it, give up tlte benefits

of traditional Japanese life in order to be

together. At the end, wzutrel and paralnour

go off in the snow together, a collpletely

recoguizable parody of the nichiyuki, that

kabuki convention where the traditional

lovers set out irtto the cold, cold world. By

having one genre comrltent upon another,

Toyoda presents a wry parallel which LL

novel could only suggest.

furother urichiyuki parody is seen at

the corrclusion of A Cat, Shoz:0, atul 7110

Womert (Neko to Shozo to futari lto oll'la,

1956), the Yasurtti-Toyoda adaptation of

Tanizaki's novel b), the salne ltalle. The

callow hero Shozo (Morishige again) is

much more in love with his cat than with

either of his women (Yamada Isuzu and

Kagawa Kyoko). Shozo's position is a famil-

iar oue. He resens tradition (the older wife),

but is afraid of the anarchy of freedorn (the

yolurger one)-so he is happy only with

Lili, his cat, a creature absolutely free yet

reiusuringly dornesticated. When Shozo

firrds his recently rurt awul pet at tlte end,

both now drenched in a summer shower,

he picks her up, saying, "We'll just g0 away

together . . . we won't go back."

In these filrls and many other bungei-

eiga-Yasurni-Tovoda's Sttott' C0Luth'1,

(Yukignni, 1957), Inoue Yasnshi's frlcrclnme

lTtki (Yushu heiya, 1953), Shiga Naoyzr's

Pilgrimng4e at l,light (tuiya koro, 1959),

and Nagai Kafu's Tu,ilight Stort' (Bokuto kitan, 1950)-Toyoda turns written words iuto

moviug irnages. By using traditional literary material, he makes films which seriously and

sensitivelv reflect the concerns of the authors.

Maritd Relationt 1955, Toyoda Shiro, the michiyuki

scene with Awashima Chikage, Morishige Hisaya

A Cat, Shozo, and Two Women,1956, Toyoda Shiro,

with Kagawa Kyoko, Morishige Hisaya

Snow Country, 1957, Toyoda Shiro, with lkebe Ryo

and Kishi Keiko

1t7

Still, when turned into film, literature

is invariably reinterpreted. An exarnple is

Yoshinru ra Kozabwo's The Tale of Gutji(Genji mono gatai, 1951), which, like

every other version of Guli, reflects its own

time as much as it does that of the Mu-

rasaki Shikibu novel. Yoshirnura's Genji

was fihned just one year before the 0ccupa-

tion was over, and in it we see Japan trying

to redefine itself. The scenes are plainly

mid-twentieth century. The court ladies

neglect their calligraphy lessons and, groupie-like, race to the doors to watch the sexy

Genji pass. Even if Aoi no Ue dies in properly resigned and womanly fashion (as in the

novel), she is played by Kogure Michiyo, who had just played the gangster's rnoll in Kuro-

sawa's Drunken Angel (1948). Murasaki herself is Otowa Nobuko, the quintessential 1950s

modern girl.

Equally of its time was Kurosawa's

Rashomon (1950). Based on two Akuta-

gawa Ryunosuke stories, which in turn are

based 0n anecdotes from the Heian period

094-1194), the film farnously recounts

the story of a man and wife (Mori Masayuki

and Kyo Machiko) set upon by a robber

(Mifune Toshiro). During the trial, eaclr

gives his or her version of the incident, but

tlre versions are s0 apparcntly variant that

magistrate and spectators alike are unable

to decide what had actually occuned. A woodcutter (Shimura Takashi), the sole witless, and an

trrrreliable one atthat,provides his tale in the framing story.

In explaining the script he wrote with Hashimoto Shinobu, Kurosawa was able to give his

assistant directors sone insight: "Hutnan beings arc unable to be honest with themselves

about themselves . . . Even the character who dies cannot give up his lies when he speaks to

the living through a medium. Egoism is a sirt the hurnan being carries with him . . . This

film is like a strange picture scroll that is unrolled and displayed by the ego. Some say they

can't understand this scriptat all, but that is because the human heart itself is impossible to

understapd. " .36

Akutagawa's original story was about relative truth, but Kurosawa's film is about the kind

138

The Tale of Genji, 1951, Yoshimura Kozaburo, withHasegawa Kazuo, Kogure Michiyo

Rashomon, 1950, Kurosawa Akira, Mifune Toshiro,Mori Masayuki, Kyo Machiko

of relative reality which perhaps only fihn can offer. We watch each version of the story-each one as "real" as the other-all of them expressed through the antalgam of play of

light and shadow created by MiyagawaKazuo, Kurosawa's camerarnan. With its psychologi-

cal rnodemity and its postwar questioning, the film was a literal re-creation of the Akuta-

gawa story. The seeming realiW of each version makes us qllestion that of the others. The

author's original intention had been anecdotal, but the fihn is now considered a contempo-

rary existential statemsnf-each one of us invents a personal reality.

funong the many interesting facets of this multifaceted film is that, within its structure, it

displays one of theJapanese cinema's definingcharacteristics, the opposition between a rep-

resented reality and that reality itself-affaitwe have already seen in the antithesis between

tlre presentation aI and the representational.

Tlrough the producer of Rashlmln, Nagata of Daiei, famously said that he had no idea

what "his" film was about, the questioning mode of the picture appealed not only to the

Japanese (it was one of the top ten moneymakers of the year) but to everyone else as well.

This became apparent when the film won the Venice Golden Lion, the Academy Award for

Best Foreign Fihn, and other prizes-becoming the most honored of allJapanese fihns and,

for atime, the single Asian picture nost viewed in the West.

Literature offered one meaus of expressing an individual view. From an accepted original

cante a new and personal interpretation. fuiother neans was comedy. Indeed, in the postwar

era, individuality was a new way of being funny. To be sure, there had been several kinds of

conredy in prewarJapanese cinema, fron the romps of Saito Torajiro to the social conedies

of his disciple, 0zu. What was novel was an individualistic irreverence-one which resulted

in satire, a new genre forJapan.

Two of the more successful of the postwar satires were both based on a prewar nodel.

Botlr The Girl Who Touched His Legs (Ashi ni sawatta onna, I95Z), directed by Ichikawa

Kon, andThe Girl Who Touched His Legs (Ashi ni sawattaonna, 1960), directed by Masu-

mura Yasuzo, were based on the 1925 Abe Yutaka film of the sane title. One reason for the

renrakes was that Ichikawahad been an assistant of Abe and that Masumura was an assis-

tattt of lchikawa. fuiother reason was that the roots of this type of situation-comedy extended

back to the Taisho days of ero-guro. The erotic elernent was the protagonist herself, a pick-

pocket who, as though unaware, woLlld allow her shoesto graze the pant-leg of her proposed

prey. The grotesque were the cartoon types she ran into: wide-eyed innocents, bumbling

policernen, stuffy bureaucrats, officious housewives.

In postwar Japan, the satire was much broadened to include people in all walls of life.

139

This detuocratic approach cut across social boundaries. These films may have even beerr

structured so as to ruake this possible. The original Abe movie was about the upper ntiddle-

class irt a hot spring resort. Both the Ichikawa and MaslunurA films, however, take place in

the upper lower-class milieu of trains and boats, where potentiallv comic social intercourse

was irtevitable. Likewise, Shibuya's lVl Cortsultutiorts Todal, (Honjitsu kvushin, 1952) is

about a doctor whose day off at the cliuic is corrplicated by a wide variety of patients who just

canrrot wait. Ichikawa Kou's A Crouded Streetccu' (MAn'in densln, 1957)-for which the

assistant director was Masumura Yasuzo-takes its stol from the title -a slice of life in

crowded, proletariau postwar Tokyo.

Satire even ftuther-out (from the Japanese point of view) was shown in one of the earliest

postwar comedies, Emperlr's Hnt (Tenno no boshi, 1950), directed by Saito Torajiro. The

plot alone would have constituted a political crime in prewar Jaytan: a mAn working in a

nrlrselun steals the erlperor's hat frorn its display case and, with it, gets a job as ahaberdash-

ery sandwich man. The plot revolves arouud the reactions of the police and public to this bit

of ldse majest6.

Still more controversial was Ichikawa's satire A Billiortnire (0kurnan choj a, 1954), one

of the writers of which was Abe Kobo. One of the characters has as her slogan "Make Atonr

Bombs foL World Peace," aud is shown in the rnidst of constructing just such a peace-maker.

At the end of the picture she has finally corrpleted her project and is confidentlv awaiting its

explosion.

funoug the uew satirists of the 1950s, the most outspoken was Kinoshita Keisuke. His

earlier debut film, Tbe BlossontirrS4 Port, poked discrete fun at national policy. Two sharp

confidence uren deceive sirlple islanders into backing afake shipbuilding company. It is the

bumbling virtues of the islanders, however, not national policv that makes honest men of the

crooks. The director went on to make a series of morc rnemorAble satires.

The Blossomrng PorI, 1943, Kinoshita

Keisuke, with Higashiyama Chieko

140

Herds l0 the Girls (Ojosan kampai,

194il, about the love affair beMeen a

low-class roughneck and a girl fronr an

aristocratic fanrily, herself oue of the

luew-poor of the period, wln in itself prac-

ticallv a burlesque of the old-fashioned

Shochikrr "wontzut's fihlr." T'lte Brokett

Dt'utn (\'abure daiko, 1948) took ou the

Jepanese father-the damaged nusical

instmment of the title. A constnrction-

conrpall\/ fatheL tries to ftul his fanrilv

alonp4 t'eudal lines and ms into trouble

when wif'e and children ignore hirn.

'Ihere is an added resol'rance in that

the fumclus and nranh, iidaigeki star

Bartclo TsunursltbuLo plavs the hapless

fatheL The cowriter of this picture was

Kobavashi Nlasaki, who woulcl lateL have

more to sa1' about authority.

Kinoshita's best satires, perhaps the

firrest nrade during this periocl, were C'ot'-

tlten C'0mes Home (Karunren koki'o ni

kAeru, 19i t )-coincidentall,v Japan's

fiLst color filrn-zutcI Crn'men's Pure

Llt'e (Kanuueu junjosu, 1952). hr the

first, a striptezne artist, whose stage nanle

is Carnren (Takanrine Hideko), returns to

her rural honretown where her poshvar

nlanners enrbaruass ancl even fLighten

the sinrple countn, folk Satirized were

not onlv the pretensions of postwar soci-

ett' but also the credulit)' of those who

clung to prewar belief's

Tlte "seqllel," which canre out one )'ear later, was created after Kinoshita had nrade a trip

to Europe to tueet his idol, Rene Clair, a clirector who wAS nruch admired-lchikawa Korr

lras also nrentioned his influence 0u such earlv fihus as his,,l ('t'0t('(le(l Sitreelcrn'. Agein,

Takamilte was the stril)per, but now she rvas also the svnrbol of Japan, and so all sorts of

The Broken Drum, 1948, Kinoshita Keisuke, withBando Tsumasaburo, Mori Masayuki

Carmen Comes Hlme, 1951, Kinoshita Keisuke, withTakamine Hideko, Kobayashi Toshiko

Carmen's Pure Llve, 1952, Kinoshita Keisuke, withKobayashi Toshiko, Takamine Hideko

tlr

postwar types were satirized: the feudal hidebound and the ultra-Ameri carized, alike. The

plot parodies maternal love, patriotism, narriage, and much else. The widow of an army

officer tries to run her house like abarracls; an avant-garde artist's studio is so cluttered

with mobiles thatthere is no r00m to move; one character blames the A-bomb for everything

including stuck windows; and, in one comic sequence, a pro-rnilitarist election candidate's

procession collides with a demonstration of Mothen Against War.

Kinoshit a was also one of the few postwar directors who wrote ahnost all of his own

scripts. In this he was like Ozu and Kurosawa, though unlike them, he usually wrote his

scripts by himself. He, too, had his own cinematic "farnily" to work with. Kusa Hiroshi was

always the cinematographer, and the director's younger brother, Chuji, always wrote the

nrusic. Kinoshita also maintaiLred a stable of actors. These included some of Japan's finest

character acton along with such stars as Sano Shuji and SadaKeiji. The familial aspect wffi,

in part, real-Kinoshita would eventually arcange the marciage betweenTakamine Hideko

and his favorite assistant director (later himself a director), MatsuyatnaZenzo.

Since Kinoshita-rather than his company 0r his producer-was responsible for his

films, these formed a coherent whole. His oeuvre extended frorn the postwar satires to the

family melodramas that practically defined the "shochiku Ofuna style." This resulted in an

even broader spectrum when Kinoshita eventually began interesting himself in a more con-

servative style of filmrnaking. From the fast-cutting of Clair (who had an influence 0n post-

war Japanese directors similar to that which Lubitsch had on the prewar group), Kinoshita

turned to longer scenes and amore plainly presentational delivery.

One of the most successful fihns of this \ater style wu She Was Like a Wild Chrl,s6nthe-

mum (Nogiku no gotoki kimi nariki, I9!f), based on the Ito Sachio novel, where the mem-

oriesof anoldman (RyuChishu) recallinghisfintlove affair areshowninthesffleof Meiji

daguerreotypes.

She Was Like a Wild Chrysanthemum, 1955, Kinoshita Keisuke,with Tanaka Shinji, Arita Noriko

142

One of the most popular of the \ater fihns was Times of Jq, and Sorrou, (Yorokobi mo

kanashitni tno ikutoshitsuki, aka The Lighthouse, 1957). Here Kinoshita supported rather

thatt criticized in this story of a couple (Takarnine and Sada Keiji) who tend lighthouses in

various parts of Japan. The end assumption is that living in relatively uncomfortable living

quarters and doing one's duty pays off in all the joys and sorrows mentioned in the main

title. Like 0zu's old couple in Tok1,o Storl', thev have done "better thau most." For this con-

ventional storyr Kinoshita devised a conseryative narrative stvle which contrasted long, placid

panoramas with occasioual flurries of stomty cutting.

Even rllore traditional-seeming was Ballad of lVara.ycnna (Narayarna bushiko, 1958),

based ort the Fukazawa Shichiro novel, to be filmed again, solne twenty-five years later, by

Itranrura Shohei. Still later, the story fonled the basis for Shindo Kaneto's Will to Lit,e (lki-

tai, 1999). The Kinoshita version was set in a small comnllurity in the northern mountains

whose custotu it was to expose the aged to the elemeuts so that there would be rnore food for

tlte youug, The barbarily of the custorn did not move Kinoshita s0 nuch as did the weeping

Times of Joy and Sorrow,1957 , Kinoshita Keisuke, with Sada Keiji, Takamine Hideko

Ballad of Narayama,1958, Kinoshita Keisuke, with Takahashi Teiji, Tanaka Kinuyo

t 4.J

son being forced to deposit his aged nother on top of Mount Nara. Here the son's love for his

motlter echoes the equally thwarted love of the mother who sees her son off to the front in

Arm1,.Yet, whereas the latterfilm provokes our indignation through implied criticism of the

military, the former elicits our admiration for the traditional respect with which youngsters

presumably regarded their elders in rural Japan.

Stylistically, Ballad of lVaral,otno, was also deliberately traditional. Though it was shot

in both color and wide screen, the director relied on deliberate stage effects, choosing t0

frame the story in narrative and scenic devices taken from kabuki. Traditional theater was

purposely duplicated, resulting in, amorlg other things, a ceftarLr distancing of the nore

extreme ernotions-as in the aged mother who, to impair her abilif,v to eat and hence pro-

vide rnore food for the yolurg, breaks her sound teeth on a millstone. fuiother result of the

director's stylistic choice, however, is a blr-urting of social criticisrn in the interests of pictorial

drama.

The Ritter Farcfuki (Fuefuki-gawa, 1960), Kinoshita's last irnportant picture, chronicles

five generations of a poor farming family during the sixteenth century. Again, the film has a

riclr theatric ality about it, emph uized by the use of color which puryosely imitates Japauese

woodblock prints. In addition, particularly in the battle scenes, Kinoshita uses still pho-

tographs which both halt and hold the action. Though, in 1960, this technique rnight have

been described as innovative, it also much resernbled that of the kamishibai, the traditional

paper-slide theater to which Mizoguchi's one-shot, one-scene style had been scornfully

compared.

The Biver Fuefuki,1960, Kinoshita Keisuke, with (left) Takamine Hideko.

144

t- Gp.

#n

The antitraditional nature of the film's theme is merely appearance. What is apparent in

the pictllre as a whole is that Kinoshita rejects only the worst of traditional life: the rest he

now approves. The final scene shows the last remainirlg member of the family picking up the

banuer of the ruling clan, for which he and his ancestors have traditionally fought, as it

floats down the river. With a gesture of rejection, he then throws it back. Nevertheless, one

reason he does so is not ideological but because his rnother had been killed. After all, the

family is most important.

Certainly it is a blend of criticisru artd compassion that distinguishes Kinoshita's rnost

popular film, Tu,erttl,-Fou,r E1'es (Nijushi 1o hitorui, 1954). This story of the life of att ele-

mentary school teacher on Shodo Island in the Inland Sea, based on the Tsuboi Sakae novel,

is ortce again about the inhumanity of wartime oppression. The teacher (Takanine) sees a

whole generation of her pupils scarred by war. This thoroughly antiwar picture is s0 seem-

ingly undernanding of ernotion and yet so skillful in obtaining it that audiences all over the

world have been reduced to (or ennobled by) tears.

Twenty-Four Eyes,1954, Kinoshita Keisuke, with Takamine Hideko

War is terrible and inhLunan, with much resulting suffering, but the Kinoshita filrn,

somewhat like shirlpa itself, finds virtne iu adversify. The director rnay present this in differ-

ent ways. Some were radical. Snou, Flurrl' (Kazahatfa, I95D, a severely fragmented stoq, e1

rural giri-ninjo, full of flashbacks and ellipses, was a predecessor of the Shochiku "new

wave," though never given credit for it. In the rnain, however, Kinoshita opts for a traditional

way of presenting his narrative. Thus, even in the filrns whose theme is antitraditional, tradi-

tion usually informs the style. Perhaps this is because the films, which like kabuki itself find

fault with authority, cati only advise traditional remedies. shikata ga nai (can't be helped),

gnrnbarcmakucha (you just got to put up with it). They do not offer solutions. Doing s0

would be within the expectations of the social-problem film.

145

This new genre, the social-problem film, did not eveu have a nane until shukai-t?t0?t0

was suggested. To be sure, social criticisur had long existed, but the examples had never been

luLlnerous enough to fonn a genre-a few social comedies (Ozu's among them) and the

al [-but-b anned keiko-ei ga.

These latter "tendency" films located social problerns within Japan's political system and

advocated reform, itt some cases, revolution in others. Nl were vigorously censored, as we

have seen, and it was not until the war was lost that anything like a politically corumitted

social-problern film was possible. funong those who initially explored the dimensions of this

rlew genre were the directors who had rnade keiko-eiga, such as Kamei Fumio and Sekikawa

Hideo, as well as the recent socially comrnitted directors Imai Tadashi, Yarnamoto Satsuo,

and Shindo Kaneto.

In an interview with hnai, Joan Mellen asked: "Would yoll say that the essential therne of

yoLu fihns is the struggle between the ruling class and the working class'/" He answered: "N0,

not so much the class struggle. This theme is more appropriate to the works of Yamamoto

Satstro."'17 S0 it is. In his Street o.f Violertce (Pen itsuwarazu: Boryokn no machi, aka Boryoku

no ntachi, 1950), based oll au actual attempt to suppress a joumalist's investigation of col-

lusion between a rural police chief and the local gangster bosses, Yamamoto's theme was

supposedly the democratization of local govenrment. Nevertheless, the methods used resem-

bled tlrose of the Communist union which produced the film. In his Sunles.s Sh"eet (Taivo no

rrai rnachi, 1954), atr adaptation of Tokunaga Sunao's proletarian novel of 1929 about a

prolonged strike at a printing plant, there was a conscious applicatiott of Soviet "social real-

isrr" and noticeably idealizedportrayals of the working class.

Imai's rnethods werc much less politically motivated. In response to another of Melleu's

questions, he made an attempt to pin down terms: "The word 'political' is difficult to define.

It can be broad, meaning'social,' but'social' can also rnean 'political."'He added: "l can-

not formulate the theme of my work very well, but after perusing my pictures and listening to

critics talking about them, it seems to me that rny work is ceutered on human tragedies-those

created by the weight of war, poverty, and social oppressiou."is This perhaps accounts for Imai's

liking for Kinoshita, a director with similar themes and one whorn hrai said he most admired.

Yet, conpared with Kinoshita, Imai's pictures have a decidedly rnore "political" orienta-

tion. Max Tessier has put it succinctly: "lf Imai's options lead hirn at tirues to prefer propa-

gandato arl and the didacticism of sirnple statement, his siucere humanistu always protects

him from the dangerous ternptations of dogrnatism." As for the director's methods, Tessier

has said that realism functions not only as a mirror of reality bllt, "rnore irnportantly ," as " a

stone thrown against that mirror."le Whether this rneans that the higher reality of political

"realism" is used to shatter the cornplacent realism of everyday rlovie life, 0r uot, hnai's

degree of political intention remained troubling (or reassuring) to his audience.

146

Blue X'loutttctirts (Aoi sammyaku, i94D is

about a love affair condemned by feudalistically

minded elders, until teachers and fellow students

join the fight on the side of yoLurg love. Until the

Da1, We hleet Agnin (Mata au hi utade, aka Till

We Meet Again, 1950)-no relatiort to the lost

Oztr film of 1932 of the sane title-shows op-

pressed yolulg lovers destroyed by the war: he

dies at the front, she dies during an air raid. By

tlre tirne Imai rlade And l'et We Liue, discussed

earlier, the Occupation had changed its direc-

tion, and fihns about the exploitation of wcrkers

were considered suspiciously leftist.

With the Occupatiou over, huai went on with

films of social realism, turning his atterttiort to

the receut war. The result was the imrrensely

1lopular 'fhe Tou'er of Lilies (Himeyuri no t0,

195il, showing the deaths of a number of cont-

bat nnrses duriug the fulerican invasiou of Oki-

nawa. The filrl was nzuned after the monumeut

there dedicated to them. The major blame for

the tragedy was put on "traditiollal" Japanese

"fatalism," the fact that these girls had been, irr

effect, trained to die. fuiother film about the tra-

ditional oppression of women, though under

fetrdal society, wzs fulu,d(h' Wrters (Nigorie , aka

Troubled Waters, 1953), based on four stories by

Higuchi Ichiyo, as scripted by Mizuki Yoko and

Ide Toshiro.

Both films are examples of what the critics

called Irnai's rtakcutai realism (realism without

tears), in contrast to both the Chaplinesque smil-

ing-through-the-team of, say, Gosho Heinosuke,

arrd tlre slrameless rutnticlct, chocfuti (lots of tears,

please) of the average rlelodrama makers. Such,

Itowever, wffi not Imai's major coltcern-social

drama itself was.

Until the Day We Meet Agarn, 1950, lmai

Tadashi, with Okada Eiji, Kuga Yoshiko

Muddy Waters, 1953, lmai Tadashi, withAwashima Chikage.

Blue Mountains,1949, lmai Tadashi, with lkebe

Ryo, Sugi Yoko

The Tower of Lihes, 1953, lmai Tadashi

147

One of the director's mosl

politicallv seusational films was

Darkness at lVoort (Mahiru no

arrkoku, 1955), a film which shared

nothing but the title with tuthur

Koestler's well-known novel. The

story is based upou an actual

occllrrence and assllmes the inno-

cence of the apprehended. Imai

has said that it was the storyr of

four young rnen who werc arrested,

tortured, and forced to confess to a

crime which they did not commit. In reality, no political charges were rnade against them.

They were kuown as "bad boys" and had been marked bv the police for some tirre. The

director claimed that the young men were not anti-establishment in any way but that the

police, when faced with an unsolved murder, frarled them.

Written by Hashirnoto Shinobu (who had scripted Rashonton and many other filnrs), the

picture takes a social issue and dramatizes it. That it did so when the trial for the four was

still pending (Japanese justice can take long to achieve its results) caused some criticisrn but

did nothing to affect their fate-they were sentenced to death.

Miscarriages of justice and the prevailing "felrdal" thonght were the stuff of Imai's later

filnrs as well. fulong these waslVigltt Dntnt (Yoru no tsuzluni, aka The Adulteress, 1958), a

version of a Chikamatsu Monzae-

mon puppet play, written by

Hashimoto Shinobu and Shindo

Kaneto. Iu it, a samurai who does

the proper feudal thing and kills

both his wife's seducer and the

wife herself, then realizes that by

having satisfied a feudal society he

has destroyed his own life.

More modern targets included,

in Kku and Isamu (Kiku to

Isarnu, 195S), the plight of rnixed-

blood children in an Llncomprehending and uninterested sociefy, and, in the rnultipart Rittw

Wthout n Bridge (Hashi no nai kawa, 1968-70), the pathetic lives of those whom society

atterrrpts to ignore-the burnkurnin (the outcast class). All of these pictures and many

14tl

Darkness at Noon, 1956, lmai Tadashi, with Hidari Sachiko,

Kusanagi Kojiro

Night Drum,1958, lmai Tadashi, with Mikuni Rentaro, Arima lneko

nore (lmai rnade a total of nearly fifr,v) were perhaps influenced by his political affiliations,

thor-rgh they were also distinguished by his emotional cornmitment.

Given such antitraditional content, one uright expect the fihns to ernploy a like style:

something incisive, brilliant-like the Russiaus in the twenties. Here, however, oue would

be disappointed. Imai's films are ahrost without style-that is, a consistent visual-aural

presentation.

Unlike other directors of his generation, notably Kinoshita and Kurosawa, who under-

went long apprenticeships uuder directors Shirnazu Yasujiro and Yarnamoto Kajiro, respec-

tively, hnai entered the cinema untLained. This does not mean that his point of view is

amateurish or awkward, but it explains his stylistic diffusion 0r, another way of looking at it,

his freedorn from limitations.

Imai's individuality is found in his statertrent, in what the film is abor-rt, rather than in a

strongly individual sffle. Though his rnethods are eclectic, his coutent is remarkably coher-

errt. Yoshirrura Kozaburo, then an assistant to ShirrazLt Yasujiro, relnernbered early on

showing Imai around the lot and then telling him, "a person like you would be better suited

as a tuovie cfitic. " *o

The creation of a style depends upou a personal vision and the rreans to communicate it.

Company directors take the house style, Comrnunist directors use the party style, Catholic

directors adopt a churchly style. Other directors rrove among available styles, and only a few

evolve their owlt. In Japan, the social film seemed to demand the kind of realisrr that the

diLectors had observed in the Italian rleo-reAlist filrns (De Sica, for example, had a strong

influence 0rl early Imai). 0n the other hand, the demands of the Japanese tradition were uon-

realistic. The resulting dilemrna (if that is what it is) is seen iu the social films of Shindo Kaneto.

Shindo was originally a scriptwriter, working most uoticeablywith Mizoguchi Kenji, for

wlrorn (on Tlte Lol,al Fort1,-Set,en Rortin) be also serued as chief assistaut director. Later, he

wonld make a filrn about his meutor: t\lizo,quchi Kenji; The Life of a Film Directot' (Aru

eiga kantoku no shogai: N{izoguchi Kenji uo kiroku, 1975). As a scriptwriter, Shiudo was

Llnllsually eclectic, having written filrns

as different as Shirnizu's prewar Chil-

ch'en in tbe Wncl, and both Bnll il lhe

Anjo House and Tbe Tale of Genji, by

Yoshimura.

The director came to wider notice

when the Japan Teachers' Union spolr-

sored Children of Hiroshiruct (Gern-

baku no ko, 1952)),the film version of a

best-selling Osada l,rata novel. By thisChildren of Hiroshima,1952, Shindo Kaneto, with Otowa

Nobuko

149

titue, Hiroshirna had becorre the loaded political subject that it was to reruain. The funeri-

cans, who had originally banned auy meutiou of it in Occupation Japan, were still trying to

find reasolts for their atrocious actions ("shortened the war . . . really saved a nuntber of

lives"), and Japan was divided into those who saw the bornbing as lrore akin to an act of

ttature, just orte more calamity for sufferingJapan, and those who wished to use it as a politi-

cal stick with which to beat Uncle Sam. This latter Aim, also that of the Soviets, wa.s reflected

in the film requested by the Teachers' Uuion.

Though shot in the ruins of Hiroshima and using many of its inhabitants, Shindo's film

wus thoroughly nonpolitical, even traditional. It opells with the school-teacher heroiue

(0towa Nobuko) going into the city and, in effect, acting as the viewer's benshi ."1[irutsonta"

(Ladies and Gentlenreu), she begins, and then takes Lls 0u a guided tour. She tells us about

the tragedv, and (in various flashbacks to the fatal dny) she shows it to us.

The presentation is traditional and the acting is stagey-close to the standards of

sltitlpa, though most of the actors were from shingeki. A result of the presentational stance is

that we are told much morc tltart we are slrown. Hence, a demanded emotiou becomes senti-

tuentalism. One is Leminded of JamesJoyce's phrzne, "seutilrentality is unearned enrotion."

Certainl,v, the fihr is no answer to the erttotioual demands earned by the subject: the annihi-

lation of a cilv and its inhabitants. Though the picture was a populAr success, the spousot'

coruplained that Shindo had made a tearjerker and that all political orientation was clestro,ved.

Cottsequently, the Teachers' Union next backed a project which would, in their words,

"gerrlrinely help to fight to preserue peace." The result was Sekikawa Hideo's Hirosltimrt

(1953), a film whose political orientation was obvions. Yagi Yoshitaro's script wzrs all the

Urtion could have hoped for, and if the results were both stage-bound and melodranratic (as

the West was to see five years later iu those scenes included-ultcredited-in Nain Resnuis's

Hiroshirnil, XIou Atttour), the context was politically correct.

Shindo is in the West ntost remembered for The lVuked Islrnul (Hadaka no shima, akzr

The Island, 1950), a documentary-like feature film about a hard-working fanrily on alt

island in the Inland Sea-a film which

Oshima Nagisa once called "the image

foreign people hold of the Japaltese." *r

Made entirely without dialogue, it escaped

ruruch of the sentimentality which conver-

sations about how awful life is would have

made inevitable. We obserue the social

conditions which make the islauders' labor

necessary and we draw olu own political

conclusions.

150

The Naked lsland, 1960, Shindo Kaneto, with Otowa

Nobuko

As in the works of Sekikawa Hideo, Yamarroto Satsuo, Karnei Furnio, and Imai Tadashi,

the party line is never completely invisible in Shindo's earlier fihns. Yet his concerns are s0

huuranistic that they make political distortions difficult. In any event, in time all of these

directors mellowed, if that is the word. They either stopped directing 0r changed their direc-

tion. Anong the latter, Shindo's change was perhaps the most divergent.

)nibaba (The Hole, 1964) rnarked the begiuning of this change. This fint period-film by

the director was about two women (Otowa Nobuko and YoshimuraJitsuko) who prey on samu-

rur. Shindo retumed to this theme in the

less strccessful Bhck Cnt (YabLl n0 naka no

kuroneko, 1953). Both films might have

beeu read as antigovernrnent allegories,

but so filled were they with naked flesh

and sex (a subject hitherto alien to the

Shindo oeuvre) that no one did.

That sex and politics are bedfellows is

not a new obseruation but, given the al-

rnost suspiciously pllre nature of Shindo's

pictures up until this point, the change

came with a certain suddenness. Shindo himself, however, found the shift logical. He told

Joan Mellen: "N0, I am not at all pessimistic about politics Iand] my idea of sex is nothing

but the expression of the vitality of malt, his urge for survival."*r And indeed it is but a srnall

step to rnove frorn the irnperative of the proletariat's survival as asocial class to the quest for

the meaus of continuation of its membem. Certainly, the sane route is to be observed in the

filrns of many a leftist director, as in the case of Sekikawa Hideo, who was now rnaking

pictures about the sex trade, such u ktmo (1955) , Hirno (1965), and Dani (1965)

Whatever the reason, Shindo was uow making lyrical studies of sexual subjects, among

tlrenr: Lost J'e;r: (Honno, 1966),T'lte )rigm o.f Sex (Sei no kigen, 1967), Haclnka no jukl,usAi

(aka Live Today Die Tornorrow, 1970), right up through )u,l (Fukuro,200r, something

like a modernized)nibctba. Though the hero of the first fihn in this series loses his potency

after being exposed to the atom bornb, one could not consider the picture a political statement.

Shindo's was but one example of changes in the social-problern fihl. There were mauy

others. A later example is the work of Kumai Kei, who came into international prominence

with I'is Sanclnkan B (Sandakan hachiban shokan: Bokyo ,1974), a strong indictment of the

Japanese wartime policy of providing "confort women" for the imperial troops. One such

wonran, now old but still victirnized (Tanaka Kinuyo), tells her sad story to a young reporter.

(The only other director to rnake serious use of this subject was Imamura Shohei in his doc-

unerrtary, (vr,rayuki-san: The Making of a Prostitute [Karayuki-san , 1973]). Kurnai went

]nibaba, 1964, Shindo Kaneto, with 0towa Nobuko,

Yoshimura Jitsuko.

151

0n t0 create one 0f ltis rnost controversial shakai-mondai films in Ihe Sea ancl Poison (Umi

to dokuyaku, 1985), a disclosure of the hnperial fu'my's medical experiments on fulericarr

POWs. The director work on, honestly disclosing. He is one of the few directors to have rnade

a serious picture about Japan's rnost sensational shakai mondai-the Aurn Shinrikyo, the

religious cult responsable for the Tokyo subway sarin nerye gas attack in 1994.His Durkness

in the Light (Nippon no kurai natsu: enzat,2001) is about the "tryout" for the attackin the

provincial capital of Matsumoto, where a nurnber of people were killed and one of the

injured was accused of the crime by the local authorities. Police and rnedia connived to con-

vict lrirn and it wffi, ironically, only the Tokyo attack that led to an understanding of the

man's innocence. Film directors outraged enough to make fihrs on such subjects and brave

enouglr to endure the resultant flak are ra;te.

A more famous exarnple of the socially conscious director willing to expose problems is

Ichikawa Kon. Director of eighty-six films, he worked under Ishida Tamizo-renen'rbered

for The Blossoms Hcr,tte Fnllen (Hana chirinu, 1938), scripted by Morimoto Kaoru-and

was originally a house director doing what the prodLlcer wanted: His )ne Iltou,sand ancl

)ne lVights (Toho sen'ichiya, I)47) was billed as "Japan's Own It Happened )ne Night)'

Later, in the 1940s and into

the 1950s, Ichikawa became

better known for his Daiei

satirical comedies. It was not,

Irowever, until he made The

Hary of Burnta (Biruma no

tategoto , aka The Burmese

Har?, 1956) that he was

judged a "seriolls" director.

The Harp of Brtrnta, a

Nikkatsu autiwar film based

on a novel by Takeyama

Michio, was a very serious

picture indeed about a soldier who decides to stay behind after World War II to become a

monk in order to bury the dead. The therne was right for the times and the picture was popu-

lar enough that the director remade it in 1985, using the same script. The scenarist was

Wada Natto, avery talented screenwriter whom Ichikawa married. That she was responsible

for many of the excellent qualities of Ichikawa's films is evident in a certain decline in their

quality after her death.

Together, Ichikawa andWada had an early interest in "social problems," as their satiri-

cal comedies witness. They found a natural subject in the rise of postwar problems with

152

The Harp of Burmq 1956, lchikawa Kon, with Yasui Shoji, MikuniRentaro.

"rebelliolrs" youth, the theme

in Purtishntertt Room (Shokei

rro lreya , 1956), a picture about

restless youths and their reckless

ways. The novel from which

Wada fashioned the script was

by Ishihara Shintaro-later ^

right-wing politician and, how-

ever improbably, the govemor

of Tokyo. It is from lshihara's

rrovel Sertsort of the Surt-itself

soon rlade into a fihr by the same rrarne (Taiyo no kisetsu, 1956), by director l'urukawa

Taktrmi-that tcti),ozofut was coined as a geure.

The taiyozoku phenomenorl, a true creation of the uredia and due in large part to Ishi-

hara's novels, drel the public's attention to the dangerous antics of "the sun tribs"-[[x[ i5,

the young. The topic spawned a number of films, the one best remembered being Nakahira

Ko's Crnzecl Fruit (Kurutta kajitsu, aka Nfaft at Kamaku r-a, aka]uvenile Passiou, aka This

Scorching Sea, 1955), a picture which also propelled the cAreer of its yoLulg hero Ishihara

Yujiro, Shintaro's younger brother.

Punishrnent Roorn, though it did not star the phenomenally popular Yujiro-Yujiro

belonged to Nikkatsu, while this was Ichikawa's first film for Daiei-it did do well euough to

conviuce the conpany to let Ichikawa and Wada rnake several more literary adaptations-

their best work, aud to which we will rctum. The Mo werc also allowed to rrake the war film they

had really wauted to rnake-Fires on tlte Plutu (Nobi, 195il.

Unlike The Hur'lt oJ' Burntt,

which could be considered

conciliatotJ,, this later fihn was

deliberately confrontational.

Scripted by Wada after the

Ooka Shohei novel, Fires on the

Plnin is about the final days of

a. Japanese battalion in the

Philippines after the defeat.

Told mainly through images (there is almost uo dialogue in the first half and little through-

out), the story is one of despair. Scenes remain long in the mind: the slow rnarch through

the jungle, a plane approaches, the soldiers all fall to the ground, the plane passes, only half

Punishment 800m, 1956, lchikawa Kon, with Wakao Ayako,

Kawaguchi Hiroshi

Fires on the Plain,1959, lchikawa Kon, with Funakoshi Eiji

153

tlte nten rise to stagger on and not one looks back; a lnalt tasting salt for the first tine irrmouths, att involuntary tear ruruting down his cheek; men dead on their haunches, like ani-

mals, with even the dignif,v of death taken from thern.

Japan had never seen a war film like this, aud those respousible for such experiences had

ltever been so indicted. There was some public concent, but the political import was muted

by the lronesty of the script and the appalling beauf,v of the images. In this seuse, Fires on

the Pluin resentbled Fit'e Scouls (1938), a film which had begun the cvcle that Ichikawa's

picture now ended.

A completely different social issue was taken 0n by Ichikawa and Wadain Borrchi (1950),

their adaptatiou of a Yanrazaki Tovoko novel. The filnr title is untranslatable-it is Alt

0saka dialect word used to

designate a f'eckless elder son. Irr

this film the solt is purposely

spoiled becanse his merchant

fanrily is entirely run bv women.

ThatJapan is reallv a matri-

archy is a proposal sometimes

heard, and Ichikawa would later

rttake a comedv about wollelr

really controlling things, Ten

Durk Women (Kuroi jnniu no

onna, I95l). tn this latteL film

the ladies gallg Llp olt the two-

timing gent and couspire to do

him in. funong its ntany delights

is a long scel]e between two of

the rnost vengeftrl of the womeu

(Kishi Keiko and Yarnamoto Fu-

iiko) in which their nurderous

coufercnce takes place in front of

an iusipid Japanese-style paint-

ing showing two kimonoedJapa-

nese women behaving as ideal

Jzrpanese wonlen should.

ht Bonclti, Ichikawa's women create the verJ situations from which the women in luore

traditional fihrs are alwavs attenrpting, unsuccessfully, to escape. The grandrnother is a

tttatriarch who has decided that the family needs an heir, and this lneaus that the playboy

154

Bonchi, 1960, lchikawa Kon, the Girls' Day scene, with MoriKikue, Yamada lsuzu, lchikawa Baizo

Ten Dark Wlmen,1961, lchikawa Kon, with Kishi Keiko, Yamamoto

Fujiko

grarldson must rrarry and produce. What they want is a girl child so that they can later

"Adopt" a husband for her as a provisional head of the fanrily-just zu the boy's own father

was adopted-and thus keep power arnong the womeu.

A suitable marriage candidate is found for the grandson, and the grandrrother and lrer

daughter plot the outcome-A charming scene where the two, like little girls, are sitting

before the traditional doll display on Girls' Day, as seemingly innocent as the girl childreu

they are talking about. Later, the two delve into the toilet to try to discover if the uew wife's

rlenstrual cycle has halted, thus heralding the arrival of the wanted child. After they leave,

the catttera regards the gleaming bowl in the half light, as beautiful as a porcelain vase.

We are shown all this with an honestv that is ruthless And, at the sAme time, with a

beautv that transfigllres everything it touches. In this fihr, as iu the others ol't which they

worked together, Ichikawa aud his camerauran, MivagawaKazuo-who shot both Rusho-

tttln and []getsu, atfoug many other films-insist that power and beauty are no strangers.

The iuxtaposition is particularly acute in the scene where, the first child being a bov, the

fitrious granclmother sends the new wif'e back home. It is so quietlv beautiful that one all but

forgives the famil,v its wretched self-interest. It is one long, irlmaculately lit, single scene: five

people talking in the late sumrner ztfternoon.

ln Tbe Sin (Hakai, aka The 0utcast, 1962), a brooding and brutal film about the dis-

crirnination directed against the outcast class, the burakumin, Ichikawa alteruates scenes as

black as the.v are bleak agaiust backgrouuds of euonuolls beaut,v. The morality of this

Ichikawa-Wada fihn is always balanced by its aestheticism. While there were few social

tlteutes as poteutially explosive as that of the urarginalized burakurnin, a form of discrimi-

ruation which still continues in conteltlporary/ Japan, there are few black-and-white fihrs in

postwar Japanese cinema which are s0 colnpositionally perfect, so aesthetically right. The

fihn's appearance inexorably undercuts its meaning.

The Sin,1962,lchikawa Kon, the final snow scene, with lchikawa Raizo, Fujimura Shiho

155

A scerte in which the vollng school teacher "conf'esses" to his pupils that he is of the

pariah sx5tg-a ven/ painlul seqLlence-is followed bv the scelte in which he nrust leave the

snrell ntourttain conuuunitr'. He is met bv the maid at the school, the only one who cared for

hint. Thev sav goodbt,e. Suddenlv it begins to snow. The canrera turns to catch this ntantle

of white slowlv covering the black forests, the dark nrountains. This lovelv nronreut is a

nretaphor for the entiLe filnr-beALrtv covers r darker hidden truth. Aesthetics support

nroralih/-or even take its place.

Ichikawa waited for weeks in his expensive nroLurtain location for that snowfall. Though

sonre directors-O2u, N{izoguchi, and Kurosawa, anlong thenr-would have gotten awav

with spending that much of tlre cor]rpan\"s nronev for reasons that all fihn conlpanies even -

where would regard as bad busiuess, Ichikawa's conrpzur\,, Daiei, dissatisfied with the returns

on his filnts, decided to curb the director's erpensive tendencies.

Anrong the resultzurt indignities was the order to renrake a venerirble tearjerker. This wlu

Art Aclot"s Ret,enge (Yukinojo henge, aka The Revenge of Yukinojo, 1961. The oLiginal was

a nreloclranratic scenario bv Ito Daisuke lvhich had alreadv been filmed before-a three-part

versiorr lrnder the sanre title bv Kinugasa Teinosuke, releusecl in 1935-36. It wzu obviousll,

not a filnr for the nrordant Ichikltwa. Nevertheless, director and scriptwriters saw possibilities

'l.he filnr focuses on Yukinojo, a kabuki actor specializing in fenrale roles, ancl this was

sonrething that iuterested Ichikawa. ht fact, the director's very first pictlue wi6 a puppet ver-

siorr of the sinrilarh'nzured doll dranra llusutrte Dqlo.li (1946)-the rnaiclen ztt Dojoji

Tenrple being, 0f course, a nren. The director had alwavs been fond of the stage, puppets,

cultoons, and the like. He was later to interest hirnself in the Italian nrouse plU)pet, Topo

Gigicl, ancl-as he was oLiginallv a graphic artist-he had long nraintained an irtterest in

t

1t6

An Actor's Bevenge, 1963, lchikawa Kon, with Wakao Ayako, Hasegawa Kazuo

stylistic experiments, such as the artificial decor and painted sets of his Mut 0f Tohoku

(Tohoku n0 zummu-tachi, 1957) and Miyagaiwa Kazuo's artificially filtered color work irt

Younger Brother (}toto, akalittle Brother/The Younger Brother, 1960), where the screen

was made to look like a hand-tinted daguerreotype. Asked about the grcatest influence on his

work, Ichikawa answered, without hesitation, that it was Walt Disney.

The Yukinojo project also offered possibilities within the vast, uncharted reahn of kitsch.

Wadafound the original scenario so bad it was good, and kept almost everything. Ichikawa

also insisted upon the star of the original version-the aging matinee idol, Hasegawa

Kazuo-and proceeded to find out, as he phrased it, "what movies can do." The resulting

fihn is a tour de force of great virtuosity in which the director deliberately scrambled stage

and screen, tried every color experiment he could think of, and created one of the most visu-

ally entertaining fihns of the decade.

Ichikawa being lchikawa, he also succeeded in rnaking a very disturbing picture. The

love scenes-an elderly but dignified Hasegawaplaying aman playing a woman, and the

young Wakao Ayako-are both arresting and troubling. Innuendos, always to be inferred,

give all of these scenes a certain edge. The spirit of camp is never far away, yet one renains

uncertain whether Haseg awa is being made a fool of or is giving a great if ambivalent perfor-

mance. One consequently begins to feel, little by little, the pathos and terror which must have

originally lurked in this hackneyed little story. Disney would not, perhaps, have appreciated

the nature of the tribute but he might have admired the presentational display.

Not only is the production self-consciously stagelike, it also shows Yukinojo himself as

the final incarnation of Onoe Matsunosuke, that first actor to rnove from stage to screen, by

meaus of the long, stationary shot, the frontal view, and the two-dirnensions of this ideal and

theaterlike world. Though rnuch had occurred in the intervening half century, the amount

of sheer presentation originally assumed by the Japanese cinema still remains in pictures

such as this.

Ichikawa also experimented with more realistic representation-the documentary. He

was commissionedbyToho to make afihn on Little League baseball ,Youth (Seishun,t955);

by Olivetti to make a half-hour fihn on the old capital, I(1tsto (Kyo,1958); and by the IglO

0saka Exposition to make Japan and the Japa??ese (Nihon to nihonlin, 1970, n.s.) , ahalf-

lrour documentary designed to be shown 0n a mammoth nine-panel screen in theJapanese

Pavilion.

The first and finest of these cotnmissions was Tokl,o )lJ,rnPiad (Tolqro Orimpiku, 1965),

a documentary of the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games. It was scripted by the poet Tanikawa

Shuntaro-later to write another exceptional scenario for The Wandwus (Matatabi, 1979.

Tanikawa created a structural space for the director to work in. Aesthetically, the picture is

superb-a masterpiece of visual design. One remembers the incisive use of slow motion

157

cluLing the track-and-field events; the beautiful repeated shots in the pole-vaulting competi-

tion; the fast zooltrs in the shot-put event; and the long, brilliant clinrax of the nraratholt-

the work of the directoL and ;L staff of neArlv six hundred people, including sixteerr

calneralnelt led bv NIivAgnwt.

Norte of this, however, wzts what the Olympic Organizing Board wanted. Not onll' had

Ichikawzt t'efused to monunreutilize the ganres, he had hunranizecl thenr. ht the uncr-rt ver-

siott (ttever publicll/ screel'led), the cAltteta tltrns tinte and agaitt frottt the nrajor evettts to

capture details: the spectators; athletes at rest, those who canre in, not first, but third-orlast. Japanese victories are not favored. At the end, the celebrations over, the stadiunr is

enrptr'. A nuur with a ladder crosses the field; fronr far awav contes the sound of children at

plav. The ganres were, after all, onlv ganres. Thev are over and life goes on. N1uch of this

footage hus never been publiclr,screenecl, end anrong exanrples of fihn vanclalisnr, the case

of 'l'ok.)'o 01.)'rrtftiuclmust rank as especiallv regrettable. That the picture was also brilliantlv

presentationzrl, rather than representetional in a nrore docunrentlur,-like we\r, did not, of

colrrse, offencl the Boarcl. But what thev had wanted wzts presLlnralllv a Leni Riefenstahl kind

of eggrandizenrent, ancl this thel'did not receive.

In lchikawzr's single finest lticture, Cotflugruliorr (Enjo, aka Flanre of Tonnen/fhe Tenr-

ple of the Golderl Pltviliott, 1958), tltese httttlattized ttesthetics were ltlreadt'evidertt Written

bv Wada after the populaL X{ishinra Yukio novel, translatecl as T'lte 7'entltle o.f lhe Golrlerr

Prtt'ilion, the film is about the acohte who deliberatell,set fiLe to and destroved K.voto's fantous

Kinkakuji. The visuals are srU)eLb. As his ex-assistant diLector, \{asunrura Yasuzo has said:

"He possesses trenrendotts

conrpositiorral skill, rivalled

onll' b1' Kurosawa Akira. His

talent allows hinr to creute

first-rate inrages that easilv

escape realisnr and resnlt in

superior filnrs."'j

Particularly irnpressive is

the use of architecture-the

thenre, after all, of the fihn.

The action is balanced bv au

architectural detail which, as

one scene follows another, re-creates the tenrple itself. 0r, auother use of architecture,

Ichikawa set his acolyte high on the balconv of the Nanzenji in Kvoto, then shot fronr far

below with a telephoto lern. The result is a bas-relief of the foreshortened tenrple roof, the

student black and tinv and lost anrid the gray n)Lrze of tile and wezrthered wood Ichikawa

15ti

Conflagration, 1958, lchikawa Kon, with lchikawa Raizo, Nakamura

Ganjiro

and Miyagawa use the wide-screen format u n0 one had before, capturing textures in the

crispest black and white.

Through dialogue and controlled flashbacls, we are told the story of this boy who eventu-

ally cornes to destroy what he most loves-the pavilion. These architecture-filled scenes

serye to emphuizethe narrative, the boy's awareness of his isolation and loneliness. Though

aesthetically prodigal, the film uses beauty to envelop and to define the acolyte and his feel-

ings, to create an atmosphere, a space to hold thern.

Equally rnoving in its disturbing beaufy is )dd )bsession (Kagi, aka The Key/Strange

Obsession, 1959). Loosely based on the Tanizaki novel fhe Kq', beauty is again linked to its

opposite: the picture equates love with ilhtess. The screen is filled with hypodermic needles,

catheters, unmade beds-all filmed by Miyagawa in muted color. Erotic obsession reaches

claustrophobic intensity, and the spectator is made a participant.

A typically extraordinary scene fiuds the husband (Nakarnura Ganjiro) rnaking love to

the wife (Kyo Machiko). For an instant we think we are witnessing his orgasm. Then we real-

ize that he has had a stroke. Love has turned to death before olu eyes. Though the fihn is

flawed by its lazy conclusion (the rnaid done it), the tensious of its theme and of Tanizaki's

original intentiolls are still there-something which is not true of Ichikawa's next Tanizaki

adaptation and his last film of any note, The lrlakioka Sisters (Sasame yuki, 1983), a com-

rnercial venture which has been called "a kirnono show." Critic Iwasaki Akira sumnarized

his view of the director's shortcomings dr-rring a q/mposium in 1953: "lchikawa rnust have

thematic lirnits he can work in The Ozu Tofu Restaurant can sell only tofu. The

Ichikawa Restaurant, however, carl sell both tofu and pork cutlets, but not tofu, pork cutlets,

beefsteak, and tempura." **

The equilibriurn of a fihn such as Corflagration, for many, remains typical of the fine

balancewhich theJapanese film sometimes attains. fui acute eye, tempered by acontrolled

and directed vision; realistic perfonnarlces, particularly that of Ichikawa Raizo (who also

I

-1

)dd 1bsession, 1959, lchikawa Kon, with Kyo Machiko, Nakamura Ganjiro

159

starred in Bonchi and The Sin): and a social theme (National Treasure Bumed Down)

lrurnanized-all contributing to a controlled atmosphere which, no less than in Souls ort

the Road, defines character and creates meaning.

Another director concerned with theJapanese social dilemrnA was Yoshimu:"aKozaburo.

Though he worked under Shimazu Yasujiro, it was Mizoguchi Kenjiwhorl he most adrnired.

Nonetheless, he felt that the Japanese tradition was a p00r oue for naking films. He once said

tlrat Japanese fiction after a thousand years still lacked dramatic construction. It was all

ln0n0 n0 aware, and this naturally ryilled over iuto filurs.

Though eclectic, Yoshimura's films are about traditional subjects, for exanple, the

tradition of unfortunate oppression borne by Japanese women. In Clothes of Deceptiort

(ltstrwareru seiso,1951), afilm much like Mizoguchi's Sisters of the Gion, the modern ideas

of the heroine (Kyo Machiko) clash with traditional behavior and get her into trouble. In

Women of the Girtza (Ginza n0 onna , 1955), the geisha's life is seeu as one of smiling

tragedy. In lVight Rit,er (Yoru no kawa, aka Undercurrent, 1956), a traditional Kyoto girl,

played by Yamamoto Fujiko, is led astray by her modern ideas. ht lVight Butte(ll,es (YorLl n0

clro, 1957), yet auother version of Sisters of the Gion, Yamamoto Fujiko is the traditional

bar rnistress from Kyoto, and Kyo Machiko plays her Tokyo rival. In TIte lVnked Fctce of

IVight (Yoru n0 sugao, 1958), however, one womau rebels: Wakao Ayako, on her way up in

the world of traditiornlJapanese

dance, pushes aside her mentor,

Kyo Machiko.

Nl of these very successful

Daiei films treat the fact of being

a wonan as though it is a social

problem. It is women who are

exploited and forced into inau-

thentic lives, and this problem

is society's. YoshimLlra's Ball at

the Artlo House reflected criti-

cism of Japan thror-rgh the rup-

tured institution of the farnily. The director's later films share the same thetue, but the focus

is wornen, their plight, and their occasional bravery. These themes, presented with a grace

and fluidity which reveals the influence of Mizogr-rchi, contributed to the laconic dramatic

construction which helped define the Daiei house style.

Masumu raYuuzo, aDarei director and pupil of both Ito Daisuke and Mizoguchi as well

as Ichikawa, owed much to Yoshimura as well. It was from the latter, he once said, that he

leamed his editing methods. These were developed in opposition to a tendency in Japanese

160

The Naked Face of Night, 1958, Yoshimura Kozaburo, withWakao Ayako, Kyo Machiko

films to play every scene out, even after it has made its necessary points. This can be salubri-

ous, as when Ozu does it, but in lesser hands it can be tiresome, as when it arises frorn the

so-called "realism" of shingeki, where everything should be "just like life."

Yoshirnura would frequently rlake a direct cut right from the high point of one scene to

another. This telescoping of effect-one dramatic point piled on top of another-is a

method of construction which gives his films their pace. Masumura, using the sane method,

cut even more stringently and created an even livelier effect, something which rnany other

Daiei directors emulated.

An example of this manner of pacin g is Warm Crtrcent (Danryr), a picture made by

Yoslrirnura in 1939, and remade by Masumura in 1957 . Both versions are about a young

doctor responsible for a small hospital who must choose between a spoiled, rich girl and a

dedicated nurse. The Yoshirnura version moves swiftly but is filled with careful revelatiort of

character, sustained by a finely contrived hospital atmosphere. Nlasumura's version moves

nruch faster-atapace quite foreign to mostJapanese fihns of its time. One scene is shoved

off by another almost before it is done. Character and atmosphere may suffer, but storyline

interest increases.

It is not surprising that nany Japanese critics, tired of the valid but discursive styles of

Ozu or Mizoguchi, should have greeted the novelry of afaster-moving film enthusiastically.

Tlre young Oshima Nagisa describes his reaction after watching the flight of the rebel couple

sequence shot with a hand-held can)era following the couple's motorbike-in Masu-

mura's Kissa (Kuchizuke, 1957). Oshima recounts how he "felt that the tide of the new age

could no longer be ignored; that a powerful, irresistible force had arrived in theJapanese cin-

ema."a5 The upshot of such a style is that the director has almost no tirne in which to estab-

lish charActer, and such fast cutting is certainly not conducive to the creation of atrnosphere.

The incisive nature of this style, so like a series of short, declarative sentences, fitted

Masumura's adversarial stance. It was he who, upou returning frorn a seasorl of study at tlre

Centro Sperimentale in Rome, called for nothing less than the destruction of mainstream

Japanese cinema. Masumura (like Yoshirnura) argued that it was congruent only with

Japan's literary tradition, that it advoc ated suppression of individual personality, that all of

tlre characters in these films invariably subrnitted to acollective self, and that even in the

leftist fihns the heroes deferred to the will of the masses.

InGiants and To1,s (Kyojin to gangu, aka The Build-Up, 1958), Masumura exercised his

theories in this fast-moving attackon the advertising racketinJapan and, by implication, on

the values of a ruerchant-based society. A slick advertising director takes an unknown girl

from the slums and turns her into a national celebriry. The sudden fame ruins her, from his

point of view, since she walls out on hirn when he needs her most.

In such fihns asAfraid to Die (Karakkazeyaro,akaAMan Blown by theWind 1960),

t,l

:i:

'Ta

161

a gangster film which marked the

acting debut of Mishima Yukio,

and Manji (1964), a Tanizaki

adaptation featuring Wakao Ayako

and Kishida Kyoko as the two

women in love with each other, a

certain shallowness of characteri-

zation is perhaps the price exacted

by a restless cartera and fast edit-

1ng.

It is interesting to compare

Masumura's vital, noisy Inte Sui-

cida at Sonezaki (Sonezaki shinju,

1978), based on a Chikamatsu

bunraku play, with Mizoguchi's

slow and elegiac A Storj, "fromChikamntsu. Tt-nrr$ it is a period-

piece, the actors in the Masunlua

version were a rock star and a

yolllrg "idol" starlet. After abreak-

neck if doorned romance, they go

off onto a convoluted michiyuki

which finds thern as dead as the

puppets they portray. But that is

one of the points of the picture: it

was the system that did thern in.

Masumura's films critical of

Japan's rnilitary past are ltarticu-

larly interesting. The l{akano

Arm1, School (Rikugun Nakano

gakko, 1956) is a school for spies

where the hero (lchikawaRaizo)

finds that, in serying his country,

he left hirnself little to live for.

The Hoodlum Soldiu (Heitai

yakuza, 195) is the story of. a

soldier and his officer who, for

Love Suicides at Sonezaki, 1978, Masumura Yasuzo, with Kaji

Meiko

The Hoodlum Soldiel 1965, Masumura Yasuzo, the bathhouse

scene, with (center) Katsu Shintaro

Manji,1964, Masumura Yasuzo, with Wakao Ayako, Kishida Kyoko

162

entirely different reasons, hate the army. The film is so filled with blood and laughter, torture

and horseplay, and is so cynical about national ideals that for a tirne there was talk of its not

being released abroad. In Japan itself, the picture was s0 popular that it later becarne a series.

The pace of The Hoodlu,rn Soldier matches the conplications of the story, while the

simpliciff of construction fits the artlessness of the two major characters (Katsu Shintaro and

Tamura Takahiko). Sometimes the action beautifully erupts (as in the celebrated fight in the

bathhouse). At other times (the finale where the hapless heroes escape 0n the wrong train), it

simmers, controlled but boiling. While such bravura could wreck a lesser story, it is just this

thatso distinguishes the picture and gives it its critical edge.

Masumura, ironically, never entirely revolted against the constraints of his company,

Daiei, and remained the last rnajor director on the payroll, long after others, such as

Iclrikawa Kon, had left. His contract gave him no control over his material, and he was con-

tinually saddled with Lurprepossessing scripts and hedged in with conditions from which

other directors largely escaped by forning their owr compauies. 0f the sixfy-odd films he

made, only a handful of these were ones he wanted to rnake.

But such is the way of film cornpanies. While profits were to be ntade, it was not unusual

for directors to be allowed to film what they wanted. When profits fell off (as they would fronr

the rnid-1950s on), directors were made to toe the line, and personal, critical, and socially

rninded fihns were discouraged.

fui exarnple is Kobayashi Masaki, who in his entire career rnade only twenty-two films,

due in part to the lack of cornparly sllpport. Originally one of the Shochiku stable, he worked

as assistant to Kinoshita. Interestingly, his first rnajor film, The T'ltick-Willed Roorn (Kabe

atsuki heya, 1955), scripted by Abe Kobo and based on the diaries 0f "war criminals," had

a rnost un-Kinoshita-like theme-the idea that rnost of the imprisoned were innocent,

while the real criurinals escaped. One of the very fewJapanese films to raise the question of

responsibiliry for the waf , it was not the sort of film one expected frorn Shochiku. Indeed, the

company held up its release for

several yeaffi.

Not in the least contrite,

Kobayashi next made I'll Bu1,

Iou (hrata kairnasu, 1956), about

tlre cornmerciali zation of Japa-

nese baseball, and followed this

with the highly critical Black

Rittet'(Kuroi kawa, 1955), which

tackles the matter of corruption

on Anrerican bases inJapan TheBlack River, 1956, Kobayashi Masaki, with Nakadai Tatsuya,Arima lneko

t63

villain is not the United States for its presence, but Japan for permitting lawlessness to go

unpunished.

Returning to World War II and those Lesponsible, Kobayashi went on to make his most

popnlar filrn, the massive three-part epic Tbe Hnntrnt Cortclitiott (Ningen lto joken,

1958-51)-no relatiou to the similarly named Andre Malraux novel. Scripted by

Matsuyama Zen zo after the Gornikawa Jumpei best-seller, the epic depicts a youllg soldier

(Nakadai Tatsuya) who is appalled by the conditions he finds iu Manchuria, particularly by

the brutal military/ use of slave

labor. He fights against it and is

sent into active duty, where he is

killed.

The enornous populariff of

the fihn tempered Shochiku's

criticisms, and Kobayashi chose

to again target the system irt ltis

single finest picture Harakiri

(Seppuku, 1962). The script, by

Hashimoto Shinobu based on

the Takiguchi Yasuhiko uovel,

concerns a samurAi (Nakadai

Tatsuya) who sets or-rt to kill the

official he thinks is responsible

for forcing the sarnllrai's sott-iu-

law (lshihama Akira) to disem-

bowel hirnself with a barnboo

sword-one he was wearittg

because he (iust like the hero of

Htrtnctnih, ancl Papu' Balloons)

had sold his real one in order to

eat. The father-in-law discovers

that it is not a persolt but the system that is responsible-a systetu which, then as uow, is

integral to the tradition alJapanese way of life.

Kobayashi referred to this whetl answering a question posed by Linda Hoaglund regard-

ing his theme, in terms of his ideas about history. "Nl of my pictr-ues . . . are coltcerned with

resisting entrenched power. That's what Harttkiri is about, of coLlrse, and Rebellion ll957las well. I suppose I've always challenged authorify. This has beetr true of mv owlt life,

including ny life in the militAry." *{'

164

The Human Condition, 1958-61 , Kobayashi Masaki, with Nakadai

Tatsuya

Harakiri,1962, Kobayashi Masaki, with lshihama Akira

Kobayashi has said that while making Harakiri he became very much aware of tradi-

tional Japanese aesthetics: "l was keenly attracted to the stylized beauty of our traditional

forms. At the same time, since I felt I had come to the end pursuing realisrn in fihn, this new

rlode of expression [the use of traditional aesthetics] delighted me."47 It delighted his men-

tor as well. When Harakiru won the jury prize at the Cannes Film Festival, Kinoshita told

Kobayashi that the film was his masterpiece, andthat if he were asked to name the five great-

estJapanese fihns of all tirne, he would include Harakiri.

Even though the film nade Shochiku a lot of money, it was perhaps thought that a

director this critical of the systern could no longer work for acompany so much apart of it.

After a few more pictures, Kobayashi had to search for work. Toho let him make the decora-

tive and "traditional" Kutaidan (Kaidan, I965)-aMizuki Yoko script after four stories by

Lafcadio Hearn-and the Hashimoto-scripted Rebellion (Joiuchr, aka Samurai Rebellion,

1967), another of Takiguchi Yasuhiko's traditional looks at the vengeful warrior, this one

played by Mifune Toshiro.

Despite box-office successes, Toho decided not to continue with the unpredictable Koba-

yashi, or perhaps he decided not to continue with them-the stories differ. With three other

directors who were dissatisfied with their companies (lchikawa Kon, Kinoshita Keisr,rke , artd

Kurosawa Akira), he entered into a new production company, the Yonki-no-Kai (Club of the

Four Knights).

Tlre first film, Kurosawa's Dodes'ka-den (1970), wffi acritrcal and financial failure, and

the director's feelings of obligation toward his "club" were perhaps instrumental in his later

suicide attempt. The four "knights" made no further efforts until the eventual filming of one

of tlreir scripts, Dorn Heita (2000), directed by the sole knight still alive, Ichikawa Kon.

The last years of Kobayashi's life were spent in the construction of another large indict-

ment of society, The Tok1,s Trial (Tolcyo Saiban, 1978-83), an independently produced,

{J

Bebellion, 1967, Kobayashi Masaki, with Koyama Shigeru, Mifune Toshiro

165

questiouiug, fragnteuted, four-and-one-half-hour filrl compiled frorn over one hundred sev-

enty hours of documentary footage. In it, the eutrenched powers of the world, that of Japan,

and that of the United States, are bravely, even defiantly resisted.

The director who most particularly rnade the shakai-mono film his own was Kurosawa Akira.

Dr-rring his long career he made atotal of thirty-one filrns, and all, in sorle w&y, are about

social issues. KurosawA's interest is in reflecting and iuterpreting his sociefv. This eim, to be

sLrre, is oue quite taken for granted in other countries, but in Japan, it is not the average

director lvho interests himself in coutroversial social issues. KurosawA, Inted, Kobayashi,

0shima-directors similar only in their interest iu controversy-are exceptions to the

general rule of Japanese fihnrraking.

KnrosawA's interest iu the nrost pressing (and hence most controversial) social issues is

seen in fihls such as The Bud Sleep Well (Warui yatsu hodo yoku nemlull, aka A Rose in the

Mud, 1950), a title which might be best reudered as "The Worse You fu'e, the Better You

Sleep." The thenre is the corruption of big busiuess, and the underlying assumption is that

absoh-rte power absolutely corrupts.

The rnovie opens with a brilliant sequeuce: in a traditional wedding reception the hero

(Miftrne Toshiro) is shown celebrating his rlarriage to the company president's daughter

(Kagawa Kyoko), whorr Knrosawa (and his cowriters Hashirnoto Shinobn, Oguni Hideo, and

Kiknshirna Ryuzo) rrade larne for the sarne reason that Shakesp eare ntade Ophelia mad.

166

The Bad Sleep We\1,1960, Kurosawa Akira, scene from the wedding-scene sequence

Both must provide for the hero's eventual downfall. The president (Mori Masayuki), amid his

unctuous employees, his corrupt board of directors, and the full paraphenahaof traditional

Japan'smost telling ritual, prides himself upon the hope thathis line will continue. And so it

does, despite the fact that the wedding itself is interrupted and the hollow pretense it embod-

ied is eventually exposed.

The bridegroom is really the son of amurdered company official, and Hamlet-like, he

plots his revenge.He even engineers aplaywithin aplay when he makes an ostensiblydead

company official observe his funeral, only to be undone by pity for his own wife and by the

revenge of her Laertes-like brother. At the end of picture, after the hero's death, w€ see the

president on the telephone telling those even higher than himself that the matter has been

taken care of-an implication thatpublic corruption goes right to the top.

Kurosawa gives his audience n0 easy way out. The Record of a Liuing Being (lkimono

no kiroku, akal Live in Fear, 19if) is about aman openly obsessed by the secret fear of his

time-atomic destruction. A successful factory-owner (Mifune Toshiro) is so concerned that

he tries to get his family to move with him to Brazil where he believes he might find safety.

The family, compla-

cent and cyn tcal, is

outraged by this, and

tries to have him

iudged insane. The

last we see of him is

in an asylum, look-

ing at the sun and

believing that the

earth is at last on fire.

At the same time, the

family is shown to be

responsible for his in-

sanity. In reality, they

want his factory. To

deprive them of this,

their last recourse, and to force them to join him, the father destroys the factory. This act is

used as evidence of his insanity. Traditional society-here in the form of the family-thwarts individual will.

At the same time, the individual himself (or, more rarely, herselfl must also assume

responsibiliry. This is a theme in Kurosawa's major films, from the hero of Sanshiro Sugata,

who learns to be accountable for his own actions, through Dr. Akahige, who teaches his

The Record of a Living Being, 1955, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro,

Shimura Takashi.

nr

T

lll\{ 167

irrtern what rnedical responsibility is, in Kurosawa's last major film, Red Beard (Akahige,

1955). It is for this reason that the moraliry of the Kurosawa fihn is rigorous, and such easy

diclrotomies as good and bad are not tolerated. In the finale of. Druutkert Angel, the "bad"

gangster emerges white (after falling into spilled white paint) as in an apotheosis. In Strat,

Dog, the good cop captures the bad robber after an exhausting fight in the mud; the camera

lools down at thern and finds them, both mud-covered, indistinguishable .In High and Loru

(Tengoku to jigoku, 1953), the plate of glass separating jailed kidnapper and visiting victim,

reflects and fuses their images in the final scene.

High and 10w,1963, Kurosawa Akira, the final scene, with Mifune Toshiro, Yamazaki

Tsutomu.

168

Bed Beard,1965, Kurosawa Akira, with Kayama Yuzo, Mifune Toshiro

Kurosawa's classic statement on personal responsibiliry and the ills of the world is found

in lkiru (1952), a film about the largest possible social issue-ieath. A petty official (Shimura

Takaslri) learns he is dying For the fint tirne in his life he realizes that he has accomplished

nothing, has never enjoyed anything. He spends his savings 0n a spree, but this brings him

only grief, as he indicates in the celebrated scene wherc he sings a song of his youth.

Life is so short,

Fall in love, dear maiden,

While your hair is still black,

Before your heart stops-

For there will be no more tomorrows. *8

lkiru,1952, Kurosawa Akira, the singing scene in the entertainment-district sequence,

with Shimura Takashi

The dying ntau returns to the office and uses all of his strength to bring to realization a

petition (for months on his desk and on the desls of others), a request for a children's park.

In tlre f ace of official antagonisrl he pushes his project through. Finally it is cotnplete.

That night, sitting 0n a swing in the new park, the snow falling abor-rt hitn, he dies.

Despite Kurosawa's criticisms-and the fihn, in part, is as sweeping an indictment of

bureaucncy as has been filmed-1friru is not an angry movie. We are not so concemed with

abadsociety as we are with a good man, and Kurosawa makes us realize this by framing the

latter half of the film with his wake. The tone is frankly elegiac, but there is little m0n0 n0

aware.lnstead, there is the statement that we are what we do. Others rnay be in states of self-

delusion but the dead man has escaped. He created himself.

I

A

169

The way in which he is seen to do so is through a cinematic style which is as controlled as

it is inventive, as incisive as it is subjective. All directors create their films in just this way-showing what they have learned both from life and from other pictures-but Kurosawa dis-

plays this with extraordinary panache. It is this genius for antalgamation which one may

find typical of Kurosawa and veryJapanese of him. All of Kurosawa's best pictures are ani-

rnated by this quality, but it is seen at its best in his period-pictures, those films which, like

the jidaigeki of Ito, Itami, andYamanakaSadao, see the past in terms of the present, rnaking

its problems and solutions ours.

The fusion of all the elements which make up the individual style of Kuros awa perhaps

most convincingly occLlrs rn Set,ert Snmurni (Shichinin no sarnurai, 1954). Though its

story is laid in the past, the picture is concerned with the present. It criticizes contemporary

values, but insists that they arc, after all, human values; it honestly creates the context of

Japanese life but is also

concerned with verities

seen as timeless and atti-

tudes viewed as universal.

Through controlled real-

isrn, Kurosawa presents

an absolutely believable

world.

In many ways the pic-

ture is the continuation

of Rashomon. The ealt-

lier film represents the

limitations of the intel-

lect-four stories, each

intellectualized, all mutually incompatible, with reality itself becoming relative. In Set,en

Samurai we step beyond intellectualizatton.Only those acts which spring from the emotions

arevalid acts, and action thus motivated is truth. In this fihn, theory becomes practice.

Violent physical action is what the film is made of-and the end result of all this action

(and there has rarely been so violent an "action film" u Ser.,sn Samurni) is the distillation

of a single almost unpalatable truth-<ne whose emotional acceptance is impossible to avoid.

The story is simple. A village is harassed by bandits. The villagers ask the aid of a master-

less samurai who in turn gathers others, a group of seven-they themselves as outside soci-

ety as the robbers they are asked to fight. They plan their defense and carry it out. A number

die, and the villagen arc grateful for the protection rendered. But it is spring planting season;

they have things to do.

170

Seven Samurai, 1954, Kurosawa Akira, the final scene, with Shimura

Takashi, Kato Daisuke, Kimura lsao.

The final scene shows the three remaining samLlrai (Shimura Takashi, Kato Daisuke,

Kimura Isao) stopping by the mound where their comrades are buried. The farmers, ignor-

ing them j atebusy with their planting. Shimura turns to his hvo fellow samurai.

Shi,mura.' furd againwe lose.

Itr,to: ...?Shimura.' We lose. Those farmers . . . they are the winners. *e

The fihn is a call for cooperation anong rnen, but it also suggests why this has always been

and always will be irnpossible. This is the therne that the director often called his "unpalat-

able truth."

The sanurai fight side by side with the villagers yet, at the end, nothing is changed,

except that the bandits are dead too. This experience turns out, not tragic, but exhilarating.

One is so overcome by the vitaliff of the visuals that it is only later that one realizes lrow r]ear

tears one has been. To rerlernber a viewing 0f this film is to remenber a hundred irnages:

the initial fight where the swordnaster shows Lls everything we need know about sarnurai,

the series of scenes where Takashi devises a plan to test his new rnen; the last sarnul'Ai and

lris death; the first attack of the bandits, their irnage against the sky, their slow descent

through the waving grasses; tl're last rout and the rice-planting seqllence, and then the final

scene, so right, s0 spare, so honest that it is near catharsis.

In making this picture-it took over ayear to film-Kurosawacreated a new sffle: for

tlre first tirne he used telephoto lenses to capture detail. In the attackof the bandits, uren aud

horses pile up to create massed detailed irnages of solidiry. The director also used multiple

cameras, each taking the scene from a different angle: thus he was able to cut directly, with-

out stopping the action, from one perspective to another. The rylendid final reel, the battle irr

the rain, wffi shot in this nanner. Though such a method uses a vast quantity of film, Kuro-

sawa-who almost invariably shot at a ratio of ten to one-preferred it, even using it in the

intirnate converuation-filled scenes of Tlte Ll'u,et' Depths

Tlrough matly critics considered Kurosawa the finest director in Japan, his own crew

found him to be the best editor in the world. Perhaps this was because, as he once said, he

edited his films as they demanded to be edited: "Whenever we get down to talking about edit-

ing, the issue of montage is immedi ately brought up, yet I cannot but feel that such a theory

is a pretty strange aberration of the imagination." He added: "When it comes down to the

basics of film technique, I am anaiveGriffithean."50

The mature Kurosawa style, one which creates a realism of its own, is put to the uses of

an equally realistic but peffional rnorality. Such abstract virtues as heroism, dignity, virtue,

even bravery for its own sake, do not interest him. In this his films are far from the ordinary

171

period-film. Even a filnt which deliberately uses the very stuff of chambara, Tbe Hiddat

Forh'ess (Kakushi toride n0 san akunin, aka Three Bad Men in a Hidden Fortress, 1958) is

not done in the heroic manner. One of the points is that there are three bad men, though we

are shown only two-the thiev-

ing, lying peasants-until we

realize that General Miftrne To-

shiro, our hero, is just as bad.

There are equally no heros irr

the comic period-film lojimbo

(1961) and its sequel Sunjuro

(Tsubaki Sanjlrro, 1962). In both

filnts, the hero (Mifune) is not in

himself heroic. In the first pic-

tlrre, he cunningly pits the two

opposing factions (both bad) of a

town together and then sits back

and watches the fun. In the latter

film, he is continually worried by

a grollp of young santllrai who

reallv believe in the supposed

heroics of their profession. His

concem is that their "heroic"

foolhardiness will get them all

killed

The stories, both about rival

politics at the end of the Edo era,

are composed of the very stuff

of the ordinary period-fihn, but

Kurosawa, like Yarnanaka before

him, infused this cornnon mater-

ial with new life, returning to

even the most notorious clichds

their original values.

In Yojimbo, to take but one

example, the old cliche of a fall-

ing fighter's crying oka (fron oka-

s6n'r, nteanillg "nother") is used

172

Sanjuro, 1962, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro, Kayama

Yuzo, lrie Takako, Dan Reiko

The Hidden Fortress, 1958, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro

Yojimbo,1961, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro

and reused. First, there is a short scene with a mother and her snall son, where the cry is

heard as it is in ordinary speech; next is a funny scene where a weak son utters the word and

his mother slaps lrirn; and, finally, there is the sceue where a dying gang member cries oka

and returns to the clich d aII of its horror and despair.

In these three films, Kurosawa has again fitted technique to his requirements. There is

greater dependence upon close-ups, a constant use of deep focus, low-key photography, and a

realistic intricacy 0f detail. Space is outlined by right-angled shots so that shortly the loca-

tions become evident even when not seen. With this cornes that sense of reality which is

atmosphere-creating a home, as it were, for the believable character. One remernbers

Humanity onn Pctper Balloorts.

Kurosawa's use of history is corlparable to that of Yarnanaka,. The Edo period is a known

historical period-1500 to 1857-but it is also a domain where the director can construct a

place with its own conventions, its owl laws. If the director of the historical film is a

Yantanaka or a Kurosawa, he makes it completely his, In the hands of a more conventional

director, the period will be reconstructed from conventions we all know, those of the period-

filnr. When Inagaki Hiroshi made his entertaining Samurai Saga (fuu kengo rto shogai,

I95D, based on Edrnond Rostaud's CJ,rnno de Bergerac, for exatnple, he used only the

accent of his genre. This particular p\ay, to be sure, already hadafairly thick accent. It was

first nrade into a shimpafavoite,Shirano Benjiro, fron which all its emotional posturings

found their way into the film.

In transplanting Shakespeare's Macbeth to the middle ages of Japan in The Throne oJ-

Blood (Kumonosu-jo, 1957), Kurosawanade a fihn completely nongeneric, utterly his, and

ouffi. Though the characters were allJapanese and the locale was obviously Japan, this was

still a story of vaulting arnbition. This was its appeal to the director, who saw in it the contin-

uatior-r of antajor theme: "l keep saying the same thing in differentways. If I look at the pic-

tures I've rnade, I think they ask, 'Why is it that hurlan beings aren't happy?' Both lkint and

Tlte Record of a Lit,ing Being

are suclr pictures . The T'brone of

Blood, on the other hand, shows

why they must be unhappy."t'

Both shakesp eare and Kurosawa

agree on what the theme is-thepull of power and its inevitable

corruption. However, since the

story was already legend and the

theme tirneless, the director dis-

carded the seerning hyper-rcalismThe Throne of Blood, 1957,

Kyoko, Mifune Toshiro.

Kurosawa Akira, with Kagawa

173

of his other historical films and created a film style that would conform to the necessities of

his vehicle.

Using only a few conponents--drifting fog and smoke, a rairry forest, the glint of armor,

the sheen of natural wood, cloudy skies, the dead white of skin-Kurosawa, with his cam-

erantan, Nakai Asakazu, created a fihn with a definite texture. We feel the bite of swords, the

thud of hooves, the leaf-filled catastrophe of the advancing forest,

There are fruitftrl additions to the original as well. Some examples are the scene where

dozetts of birds, disturbed by the destruction of their forest, fly into the banquet hall and cir-

cle around the distraught hero; the sequence where tiny nocturnal sounds form an ostinctto

to tlre murder of Duncan; the appearunce of the ghost of Banquo where the director, disdain-

ing trick photography, uses the actor himself, made Llp pLlrely white, with lights creating a

halo around him; and the climax where Macbeth is immobilized by arrows, the last one

transfixing his neck.

Tlre restrained prodigaliry of ilris film is rlatched in Tbe Lou,er DePths (Donzoko,1957),

a literal film version of the Maxirn Gorkv pla.v, yet one which has its owu individual style. A

cottsistent set of rules governs characteffi, cAmera movemeltt, formal corlposition (those dra-

matic diagonals), and editing. These rules unify the film, rraking it a bit more consistent

than life itself. They also box in the characters of this claustrophobic drama. Everything is

carefully threadbare, and the only rnethod of punctuation the director allows hirnself is the

simple cut. In fact, Kurosawa coufined himself and his actors to just two sets and permitted

uo star turus. Furtlter, he kept the cast for weeks in these sets, with daily camera rehearsals,

until every/ last retuinder of the stage had beerl rernoved. Among the results was a unanimilv

of enserlble rare in aJapanese film.

The Lower Depths,1957, Kurosawa Akira, with Mifune Toshiro, Kagawa Kyoko

174

Likewise, for ollce, Kurosawa allowed little music. The music is mainly what the actors

make for themselves-singing, banging 0n pans, and tapping bowls-this and the rhyth-

nric sound of ll'rc hl,oshigi, t\-nse clappers which call the audience's attention at the tradi-

tional theater. In the final sceue, after the death of one of the characters, another takes a

drink, turns to the catrrcra, and says: "What ashame! Justwhen the partywas beginuing." At

the same time there is a single clap from the hyoshigi, and instantly the end title glows for a

second, then disappears, wresting us frorl what was indeedafloating world, but one which

was also ours. While the picture is theatrical in the most bravuraof. manners, we are con-

virrced that it is life we are watching. With its purposely shallow playing ^reas

and its two-

dirnensional architectural backgrounds, The Lou,er Depths reaches back into the same kind

of traditions that gave us early Japanese cinema. Its continual sacrifices for theatric aliry are

here rewarded.

This abilif,v to evoke the stage while denying it became even rnore appffent in Kurosawa's

Iater work. Dode{ka-den (1970) employed obviously painted sets, as did the dream se-

quence in lhgetnusha (1980). Rnn (1985), Kurosawa's adaptation of King Lenr, was s0

plrryosely stagelike it became operatic, enhancing the alre ady apparent influence of noh,

long a favorite Kurosawa eutertainrnent.

In the films followingRed Becn'd, Kurosawa became rnore openly interested in a highly

structured, even schematic presentation. Such structure was, as we ltave seen, always there,

though the realistic style of the earlier fihns made it less apparent. The visual architecture of

Set,ert Snmurni, for example , rnay turn schematic (the map the samurai draw is seen as a

schema for subsequent action), but the effect is softened and rendered less apparent by the

realistic coutext. The map is there for the use of the samurai. It is only secondarily of any use

to us. Ran, on the other hand, is neither a realistic rendition nor an illustration of the King

Lear story, nor is it intended to be.

Indeed in these \ater films the director seems to be hirnself repeating that well-known

pattern where theJapanese artist (Tanizaki, Kawabata, Mishirna, and nany others) turn to

the outside world, the West, the realistic style, and then return to sornething we might iden-

tify as moreJapanese. These later films of Kurosawa's sharc mnch with earlierJapanese cinema.

Toward the end of his life, Kurosawa said that he "watched with a detached gaze," just

like tlre noh playwright and theorist Zeani. This neant that the director's eyes were to com-

pass everyrthing in detail but did not remain-as he expressed it-"glaring at the set."

Indeedwith the camera rolliug, the later Kurosawararcly looked at the actors. He explains it

as a sort of peripheral sixth sense: "l focus ny gaze somewhere else and I sense instantly

when sornething isn't right."sr

In tlre last fihns, AeAms (Yume, aka Akira Kurosawa's Dreams, 1990) , Rhapso$, in Augrct

(Hachigatsu no kyoshikyoku [rhapsody] , 1991) , andMcdnda,j,o (1993)-allof which Kurosawa

t,

175

scripted alone-the controlled realisrn which had so marked earlier films is less apparent,

and more conventional views emerge. The critic who said that watchinglate Kurosawa was

like watching the history of Japanese film bachuards revealed a prejudice toward realisrn, but

he also stated a truth.

Kurosawa's lack of accommodation to received ideas lras allowed some Japanese critics to

call him their "least Japanese" director. The description is understandable in that he is

"Western" enough to be openly individual. Completely uninterested in the standard progran

filnr, andfailingwhenever he was forced to make one, he has gone beyond the accepted con-

fines of cinem atic \anguage as the Japanese understood thern and, in so doing, has broad-

ened them. Consequently, perhaps, his films have been widely accepted in the West itself.

Kurosawawas the firstJapanese director to be "discovered" abroad, and this discovery is

also one of the reasons that his local critics have found him "un-Japanese." The director

himself, however, wff made famously furious by such criticisn. He said he had not rcad one

review from abroad that had not rcadfalse meanings into his pictures and, in any event, he

would never make a picture especially for foreign audiences: "lf a work cannot have mean-

ing toJapanese audiences, then I-as aJapanese artist-am simply not interested in it."5.1

176

THE ADVENT OF TELEVISION AND THE FILM'S DEFENSES:

SUZUKI, NAKAHIRA, KAWASHIMA, AND IMAMURA

felevisiou, something which damaged the Japanese film industry much more than had

I eitlrer the 1923 earthquake or the 1945 fire-bombings, officially commenced in Japanirt

1953, but its ravages were not apparent until adecade later. Indeed, in 1958, when over olte

billion tickets were sold, theJapanese film industry reached its financialpeak. The record for

the nrost productions was set in 1!50, with 537 Japanese movies being released in some 900

theaters. This nay be compared with the figures for 2000: 282 films released in approxi-

mately 300 theaten. I

There are, of course, many more theaters in Japan, nearly 3,000, but the vast rnajority

slrow only foreign films. By 1999, after the complete collapse of Shin-Toho, a Toho sub-

sidiary which had been financed frorn 1947, and the partial collapses of Daiei and Nikkatsu,

Toei had turned its Kyoto studio into a therre park-the Toei Uzurnasa Eigarnura, with its

Haunted House ("N0 one has returned alive yet . ."). One year later, Shochiku, having

already closed its own therne park (Ozu House, Tora-san Street), was moving its head office,

closing theaters, and selling off its Ofuna Studio.

Earlier the entertainment economy had been burgeoning. A watershed date for the period

is trsually given as 1954. This was the ye r of the Tolqro Olyrnpics, and tlte event (syrnboli-

cally so important for Ja;tan, marking its reentry into "the family of nations") was distin-

guished by all sorts of modernizations and cleanups. There was a new systeu of elevated

highways, strip shows and blue movies were banned, the bullet train was installed, and every-

one acquired a television set in order to view the Games.

With a tube in front of every farnily and consequently not many families in the rnotion-

picture houses, the filrn industry decided it had to do something about itself. In 1950, the

peak year, there had been six major filn-producing companies: Shochiku; Daiei; Nikkatsu

(resumed from 1954);Toei (from IgSt);Toho; and its affiliate, Shin-Toho, shortly (1951)

177

to go bankrupt. With tickets selling and crowds rernaining, these companies had beeu confi-

dent. Btrt, by 1954, viewers were deserting the theaters and loss was loorning.

The remaining major filrn conpanies thus attempted remedies, all under the rubric of

"rrodernization." HAVing already displayed the insufficient attractious of color and various

sorts of wide screens, the industry now turned to other hoped-for attractiorts. These included

odd feature lengths, stars in heaqr concentrAtion, and diversified monsters-Honda Ishiro's

Godzilkt (Goitra, akaGodzilla, King of the Monsters, 1954) having been a hit.

The lumbering lizard went on to star in a twenty-seven-film series. Here he ruet with a

number of other Toho monsters, including Mothra, Rodan, King Ghidorah, Ebirah, Mega-

lon, and that famous foreign tourist, King Kong. He also continued to carefully cruttch ruod-

els of Tokyo, Osaka, Nagoya, and oth er Jaysanese cities. "AwAkened" by the A-bomb and put

to rest (again ardagain) by selflessJapanese scientists, Godzrllabecante a kind of barorneter

of the political mood. From punishrnent-figure-from-the-past lre turned friendly and finally

took to defending his country (right or wrong) frorn not only foreign monsters but also the

machinations of both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. Political ambitions did not, however, kill

Godzilla. Toho did. He was n0 longer pulling his financial weight and so Godzilla; Final

Wars (Gojira: farnaru uozu, 2004) marked his final appearance, During his fifty years of

popularity he spawned many fellow monsters and was viewed by nearly one hundred million

people.

fuiother audience-attention item was the double bill. Two features for the price of one

had all long been a distribution ploy, and some of the exarrples were f.airly exotic. Shochiku-

Tenkatsu, for example, had earlier mixed genres. Souls on the Rond (1921), in which no

one had any coufidence, had been shown 0n a bill, at least in sorue places, with a Hollywood

filn from 1920, The Ret,utge of Tarzaz. Such rniscegenation did not last long, but rtow, in

tlre crisis of the sixties, it was again encouraged.

Companies also dangled lavish genre-product displays. Toei, which had begun produc-

tion only five years before, pioneered wide screen, in 1957, and now routinely rnade all its

filrns in that format and specialized in big, wide yakuza and prison-life series. Daiei, uoting

the early success of Henry Koster's The Robe (1953), had Misurui Kenji rnake The Life of

Buddha (Shaka, 1951) in 70 rrm, with every star on the lot in it. This was perhaps in emu-

lation of Toho's earl ier The Ihree Treasuras (Nihon tanjo, 195il , an Inagaki Hiroshi wide-

screen spectacular about the origins of Japan, with special effects from the people who

brouglrt you Godzilla. Hara Setsuko starred in the role of the sun goddess, and Mifune

Toshiro was her unruly dragon-slaying sibling.

funong the better of those directors who specialized in geure fihn was Kato Tai. Beauti-

fully crafted, filled with long, contemplative scenes, and interspersed with crisp fast action, his

films seemed a return to an almost forgotten heroic cinema. He made films frout scripts by

178

Hasegawa Shin, who forty years before had defined the jidaigeki-Loue.for a Mother

(Mabtrta n0 hana, aka Long-Sor-rght Mother, 1962) and Toktliro of lSttsukake; Lorte

Yakrtza (Kutsukake Tokijiro: yubo ippiki, 1966)-and revived the kn ha in movies such as

l'is )iu,ct's Ghost (Kaidan Oiwa no borei, 196I), a version of the kabuki play Tokknido

Yotsul,a kidnn.fuiother genre specialist was Fukasaku Kinji, who rnade Battles Wthout Honor 0r

Humanifit (Jtrtgi naki tatakar, aka The YakuzaPapem, 1973-76), a rnultipartseries for Toei.

Tlre series criticized the yakuza and concemed itself with the extreme consequences of giri

and ninjo. These pictures formed a subgenre within the major yakuza-filn genre. Known

as ninkl,o-eigA, such vehicles were idealized, highly forrnalized elaborations, set usually in

the late Meiii, the Taisho, or the early Showa eras. The hero wades into the rival gang and

emerges victorious.

Though popular and profitable, the ninkyo-eiga did not last and was replacedby another

subgenre called jitsu,roku ("reporting reality") eiga. These films were set in gritty post-

World War II times and in the brutal andamoral present. Examples would be Fukasaku's

kid-killingBattle Ro1t677 (Batoru rowaiaru, 2000); its sequel Battle Ro1'al II (2003), finished

by Fukasaku's son, Kenta; some of Kitano Takeshi's films; and most of Miike Takashi's. Irr

these, the lawless, nihilistic hero of Ito Daisuke is revived-now no longer a figure of serious

moral concern but of rnerely fashionable violence.

There were during the period many other genre craftsmen as well. Nakamura Noboru,

wlro lrad worked as assistant director 0n YoshirnuraKozaburo's The Storl, of Tank, Com-

mand"er lVishizumi, became a latter-day jun-bungaku specialist, making into persuasive

films such novels as Ariyoshi Sawako's Tlte Riuu Ki (Kinokawa, 1966) and Kawabata'sTutin

Sisters of l$'oto (Koto, 196r. Oba Hideo, another Yoshimu n-trained director, specialized in

melodrama and created the enormously popular trilogy What Is lbur lVame? (Kimi n0 na

wa,1953-54) andlater remade Snou Countrt, (Yukiguni, 196).

Chiba Yasuki, having early completed Certain lVighfs Kiss, went on to create superior

program-pictures such as the four-part Mr. Fortune Makw (Oban, 1957-58) and an excel-

lent Hayashi Fumiko adaptation, Doutntontn (Shitamachi, 1957). Nso working for Toho,

Okanroto Kihachi began under Naruse Mikio as assistant director on Floating Clouds.He

later went in for spectaculars including 7he Sutord of Doont (Daibosatsu toge, 1966) , Kill(Kiru, 1958) , and the star-studded The Emperlr and the Guteral (Nihon no ichib an nagai

hi, akaJapan's Longest Day,1967); the wry war comedy, Hu,man Bullet (Nikudan, 1968);

and a remake of Kuros awa's Sanshiro Sugata (1977) .

Less generic were the ways of Nikkatsu. Having finally resumed production in 1954, the

company had found (as we have seen) a money-making genre in the taiyozoku fihns about

troubled youth. When it later discovered that this kind of picture was being patronized by

r-)

'r-I

\-rj

179

troubled youth itself, directon were allowed an unllsual degree of independence.

One of those who, initially at arty rate, profited from this rnove was Suzuki Seijun, who in

a relatively short period (1956-57) rnade over forty films for Nikkatsu. Entirely youth-ori-

ented products, his fihns went further than many others. Not only was there more sex and

violence, but the very manner in which they were nade appealed to the young. Color, frivo-

lity, irresponsibility-this appeals to all youth everywhere, but post-Occupation Japanese

youtlr were particularly altracted. After the earnest postwar era and the often drab-seerning

neo-realism of manyJapanese films, a new brand of ero-guro-nansenu became saleable, and

directon such as Suzuki sold best.

Suzuki's The Gate of Flah (Nikutai no mon, 1964) was a remake of a 1948 fihn by

Makino Masahiro, but few would recognize it. A dour review of prostitution in occupiedJapan

is transfonned into a brightly-colored page ant all about sexual liberation. Sirnil adry, The

Lxfe of n Tattooed Man (lrezumi ichidai, aka One Generation of Tattooed Men, 1965),

wlriclr takes on the yakuza genre, is as stylized as kabuki: carefully aimless action is

combined with aparody of giri-ninjo dedication in the undenvorld, and violence is lavishly

aestheticized.

In Tokl,o Drifter (Tolcy o nagaremono, 1966), the hero wears a white suit throughout so

that during the final massacre (which takes place in a white nightclub) the splashes of blood

will nicely contrast. With every killing, the strobe lights change color, turning a deep and

satisfying crimson in the end. Such aestheticism, seen now mainly in manga (comic) books

and in anime (sci-fi animation) films, began in large partwith the films of Suzuki and his

ero-guro followers.

One of the qualities of Suzuki's pictures is that, amid all the blood and laughter, a seri-

ons point is being rnade.In Eleg1, 1s Violence (Kenka ereji, aka Elegy t0 Fighting/Born

Fighter/Fighting Elegy, 1966), the hero is the typical close-cropped, hunorless, pent-up

schoolboy 0f the sort still seen in manga. His girlfriend is far too pure to do anything, but

he hates hirnself for masturbating; a life of violence seems the only answer. At the end of the

fihn, he suddenly joins the notori-

olrs rnilitarist coup of 1936. What

we had seen as simple nonsense can

now be read as social comnent. This

is what Ian Buruna neant when he

wrote: "Thus the film is literally an

elegy to fighting, to the innocent

violence of youth. It is a nostalgic

yearning for that period in life when

one can be self-assertive without

180

Elegy to Violence, 1966, Suzuki Seijun, with Takahashi Hideki,

being punished too severely, that time of grace before the harnmer of conformity knocls the

nail back in." l

Suzuki is also anarchic, something which made him such a popular director among the

yoLurg. "l hate constructive thernes . . . Images that stick in the mind are pictures of destruc-

tion."'r Ard the destruction is of an aestheticallyJapanese kind. When asked byJ. Scott Burge-

son why the boiled-rice fetish of the killer in Branded to Kll (Koroshi no rakuin, 1967),

Suzuki replied: "lt's because he's aJapanese assassin. If he were Ita\ian, he'd get turned on

by ntacaroni, right?" Asked about the masturbation scene in Elegtt to Violence, he

responded: "The only thing I ever think about is how to make the movie more interesting . . .

Back tlren you couldn't show nudity inJapanese movies. So I always had to think of some-

tlring else as a substitute." When asked if the actor Takahuhi Hideki was embarrassed,

Suzuki showed his Ozu side when he answered: "Since he was told to do it, he had no reason

to be embarrassed." {

Suzuki's pictures are now seeu as a kind of rnanga-esque pre-pop-art. Burgeson has

said: "ln the same way thatJapanese woodblock prints were originally mass-produced com-

mercial posters that only later were recognized as worls of. art, Suzuki's films are a triurnph

of style and form over impossibly restricted conditions."

Shortly the conditions were to become even more impossibly restricted. Interesting

though suzuki's films were and, despite their popularity, Nikkatsu became concerned with

the "antisocial" rnessages these colorful and entertaining films were perceived as imparting.

Also, the conpany was being criticized as catering to the more seditious of the young. In

a patlern to become familiar industry-wide, Nikkatsu dismissed Suzuki when it became plain

tlrat lris youth-oriented fihns were not afte r al\, returnin g a malor audience. His dismissal

occurred in 1968 and, though a number of the youth-oriented took to the streets (around

tlre Nikkatsu Hibiya offices), their numbers were not sufficient to convince the company

otherwise.

Paradoxically, during the fifties, Nik-

katsu had encouraged seditious direc-

tors. When the taiyozoku genre was a

popular subject, Nakahira Ko was per-

mitted to make what he would of the

script which Ishihara Shintaro had fash-

ioned from one of his own popular

novels, Crazed Fruit. Though the stu-

dio wanted just another juvenile delin-

quency fihn, Nakahira made a lyric

tragedy, one which sacrificed little toCrazed Fruit, 1956, Nakahira Ko, with lshihara Yujiro,Kitahara Mie, Tsugawa Masahiko.

--L

.J-'

TJ

sensatiottalisttt and even had an integrity of its own. In it, two boys, brothers, enjoy the favon

of tlre sAlue girl. Nakahiracaptured well the atmosphere of a second-rate slunnler resort, the

hesitant arrogallce of adolescents, the animalit)' of the young in their setting of shining

sea attd sun-drenched beaches. The elder brother (lshihara Yujiro) appropriates the girl

(Kitahara Mie), not so much because he wants her as that he doesn't warlt his youltger

brother (Tsugawa Masahiko) to have her. But the youngest of the brothers gets therl both in

the celebrated motorboat finale, where both the girl and the elder brother are killed.

Like the young people in George Stevens's A Place irt the Stut (1951), afilm which influ-

ettced this oue (there is even a shot in common: the portable radio on the pier), the youltg-

sters are vicious because they lack the irlagination to be anything else. These particular

yoLlltg people being Japanese, the traditionally competitive ties between the boys are muclr

stronger than any bond that might develop between the boys and the girl.

With the success of this film behind him, Nakahira was allowed a degree of freedom. He

went on to ruake The Four Sensorts of Lote (Shiki no aiyoku, l95S), in which he showed a

fine f'lair for comedy at the expense of the Japanese family system. The picture illustrates how

uruch more conservative some membem of the new generatiou are thau their parents.

The Four Seasons of Love,195B, Nakahira

Ko, with Yamada lsuzu, Nakahara Sanae.

The children of the film's farnily all think that Mother (Yamada Isuzu) should stay at

home, giving herself over to self-sacrifice and tears. Her resolve, however, is to live her owlt

life. The children, conseruatives that they are, arc ashamed of her. At the end of the fihn, they

are assembled at the railway station. Mother, they think, has seen the error of her ways and is

returning home. They prepare suitable faces, hurt but brav€, ffi the train pulls in. Mother

appears-accompanied. She is with a gentleman friend and, together, they are olt their way

to a hot spring resort. The children are horrified. Mother smiles sweetly, the whistle blows,

and the train rnoves off. The final scene is of the faces of the children, who for the first time

become aware that it is perhaps they who are missing something.

182

In 1959, Nakahira was also allowed to make TIte Assignntiorr, (Mikkai). Though it was

only an hour long (Nikkatsu, like everyone else, was experimenting with lengths), it turned

out to be an Llnusually powerftrl fihr. An indication is the opening scene-six minutes-

showing a married woman and her young lover, a student, lying on the ground in a deserted

park. Nakahira confines our view entirely to this single setup, both actors cut off at the waist.

It is in the acting and the slow, sinuons lnovernents of the camera that sex is suggested.

At the end, the wife, fearful of dis-

closure, irnpulsively pushes the stu-

dent under a, train. Here, as in the

nrotorboat finale in Crazed Frutit,

Nakahira Llses a convincingly impres-

sionistic technique, creating the action

thror-rgh a number of very short shots:

close-ups of the two faces, the wife's

hand, the student's foot slipping, and

then his body turning as he falls. At

the end of the seqllence we see the

train overshooting the station, aud

then we are shown the tracks. In a long-held shot, there is the student, dead, his head and

slroulder at one side of the frame; atthe other, atan impossible angle, his leg.

Brilliant as these films were, they attracted no real following, though other directors

rnuch admired them. Presaging the conpauy's later treatment of Suzuki, Nikkatsu conse-

quently decided that Nakahira would be better occnpied making action fare. A number of

tlrese films w€re made, after which the unhappy director extricated hirnself and went to Tai-

wan to direct equally undistinguished Chinese entertainment fihns.

fuiother director who had initially found freedom at the new Nikkatsu was Kawashima

Ynzo, who had left Shochiku and was later to go on to Daiei and Tokyo Eiga, a small in-

dependent company affiliated with Toho. funong collaborations with a number of directors,

Kawaslrima had worked as an assistant director 0n Ozu's The Brothers and Sisters of the

Toda Fctmilj,. Though the first half of his fifff-odd films were standard Shochiku produ ct, at

Nikkatsu he was allowed a degree of latitude.

Imamura Shohei, who had, as he put it, a "master-apprentice relationship" with

Kawashima, recalled having asked the rnaster why he had made such "completely worthless"

films at Shochiku: "He looked me straight in the eye and said: 'For a living."'5 Kawashirna

indeed did a number of things for a living, includin g appearing as an extra in Tasaka Tomo-

taka's Fiue Scouts (1938) , and working intermittently with Shimazu Yasujiro, Yoshimura

Kozaburo, and Shimizr-r Hiroshi. He was chief assistant on Kinoshita Keisuke's debut film, he

The Assignation,1959, Nakahira Ko, the opening sequence,

with lto Takao, Katsuragi Yoko

"r-L

I"i.

I83

made one of the early "kissing" pictures for the Allied Occupation, and became knowrr as the

man who could direct a film a month. It was not until he went to Nikkatsu, however, that he

made the kind of fihns he wanted to make.

With money to be made from juveniles-adolescent revolt still being a box-office

draw-Kawashima was pennitted to turn his attention to another segnent of the population

which the films had more or less ignored, but of which he himself was a member. This was

what the upper classes called the lower classes. To be sur€, the lower classes had been seen 0n

the screen in both the shorningeki geure and keiko-eiga, but in the former they had been

"socializgd"-1f that is the word-to a sometimes sentimental degree, and in the latter they

were too often mere propaganda fodder.

One of Kawashima's assumptions (shared with lmamura) is that there are, in effect, two

Japans. One is the "official" version-noh, tea cerenony, Mizoguchi, Ozu, late Kurosawa,

along with the approved high-class virtues of fidelity and devotion. Here and there, an

unhappily subservient (possibly kimono-clad) woman cornpletes the image. This is the ver-

sion which most foreigners see, the one which gets exported, and the way in which Japanese

society perhaps best likes to view itself.

Tlre otherJa;san is tlre "real" one, the one both directors chose to depict. The characters

in a Kawashina 0r an Imarnlua film, as has often been noted, do not behave like 'Japanese"

because none of the rules of order and decoruln insisted upon by the official version apply.

These low-class folk do not know the meaning of fidelity. They are utterly natural, even

"unciviltzed," t0 the extent that civilization means a rerloval front the natural. They are

selfislr, lusty, amoral. Nl the vitality of Japancomes from their nurnben.

Kawashima, Imamura, and later directors who shared this view believed that tlte "offi-

cial" civihzation had long threatened to smother the real one. Imamura has said of himself:

"l happen to be lnore interested in the Japanthatflourished before the artistic decadence fos-

tered by the political isolation of the feudal period." It still flourishes: "TheJapanese did not

clrange as aresult of the Pacific War . . . they haven't changed in thousands of years."6 This

accounts for their admirable vulgarity.

In Suza,ki Paradise-Red Light Dish'ict (Suzaki paradaisu: Akashingo, 1956),

Kawashima's favorite among his own films (scripted by Ide Toshiro, better known for his

Naruse scenarios), people are completely without pretensions. Though the women are all

more or less fallen, n0 one feels terrible about it in the Naruse nanner. When one of them

(fu'atama Michiyo) has the chance for a bit more money with another rnan, she simply (as

slre is-no luggage) clirnbs on the back of his rnotorbike and, with abigsrttile and awave,

off she goes. No one feels particularly bad about betraying trust or stealing a bit of cash either,

and the man who eventually does retum the stolen noney is seen as something of a wirnp.

People are depicted as people-surviving. We see this in the opening shot , a very long

1U4

dolly shot (under the credits) frorr a high angle looking down at the customers as they pass

the houses of the prostitutes who attempt to drag thent in. The angle is such that it is all legs

arrd bottolls, u0 one's face is seen, though a hand now and ther-r enters and sttatches. This is

what their roiling world is really like, struggling to surive-aud we are iu its throes, like it

or not.

That the realJapanese world was always like this is shown itt Kawashima's most popular

filrn, The Surt's Legend (Bakumatsu taiyo-den, aka The Sun's Legend at the End of the

Tokugawa Period, aka After Leaving Shinagawa, aka Shinag wa Patlt, 1957). Written by

Kawaslrinra, Imamura, and Tanaka Keiichi and based in part on rutkugo stories, the setting

is a large and cornfortable brothel, the Sagarniya, toward the end of the Edo period (ca 1850).

Saheiji (Furanki Sakai) cannot pay his bill and is held hostage. In uo time, native wit has led to

financial solvency. He collects debts and tips, is a lovers' go-beMeelt, and evett gets hold of a

map of the British Embassy and sells it to a resident revolutionary so that he cau burn it down.

The Sun's Legend, Kawashima Yuzo, 1957, with lshihara Yujiro, Furanki Sakai

Here, as always in a Kawashima filrl, a number of characteffi eltcounter each other,

etlgage in rlundane discourse, enjoy carnal relations, and have an overall good tittte.

Imarnura thought that the filn should have showed more 0f "how the citizens of Edo, in

spite of their proverbial frivolouslless, revolted against oppression."T BLlt one of the points of

the picture was the unorganized and nnbuttoned beauty of the Llltcolnlnitted. Md as for the

revolt against oppression, it was sirnply not that kind of fihn,

huarnura has also noted that Kawashima "wasn't interested in the conventional gram-

lnar of filmmaking and [that] he often just jllmp-cuts. Whert I wrote fthe script for this

film] I left matly things in the script deliberately ambiguous, but he never paid any attention

to the details auyvvay. That's the kind of man he was." 8

1957, with lshihara Yujiro, Furanki Sakai

1U5

Despite his lack of grammatical interest, Kawashirna was also atl admirer of the

foursquare geornetric workmanship of both Ozu and Yam anaka. Tbe Stut's Legencl in some

ways reminds one of Humanitl' Antl Paper Balloons. Kawashima, like Yananaka,

attentpted to show the interaction between space and people-whether space is extraneous

or rtot depends on the situation, what happens in it. The corridors, rooltls, bath, and toilet in

tlre single ruain set of The Surt's Legencl arc as articulated as are the tenement and the

streets outside in Hurnanitl, rnul Pctper Balloons, And for the salne reasons.

Many other directors learned from Kawashima. fulong them was Urayarna Kirio (later

arr assistant to Irlamura), who rrade The Sh'eet u,itlt the Cultoh (Kyupora n0 am machi,

f962), after a script cowritten with lmamura, aud Bacl Git'l (Hiko shojo, 196i. The later

"new wave" directors learned frorn him as well. In an essay called "Mv Teacher," hrarrura

states that "Kawashima's early revolt against Shochiku's anthorit,v is precisely the reasorl

why young people are once again taking an interest iu his work. He personified the "new

wave," years before its emergence."')

Imamura hirrself learned frorn other directors as well. "The film that shocked and

rnored me most was Kurosawa's Dt'unken Angel.l found the gangster played by Mifune

Toshiro incredibly real-he reminded me of people I'd rlet ou the black market." r{) fu1d i1

was with Kurosawathat Imamura-then at Toho-ryx1[ed to study, but as Toho was hav-

ing strikes during this period, no admission examinations were held. He therefore went to

Shochiku, where he was told to work with Ozu. Imamura worked as the older director's assis-

tarrt orr three of his filrns, includingTokyo St0r1,. At the tirne he said he ruuch disliked the

expenence.

Later, iu an interview with Nakata Toichi, Imamura revealed how unbearable it had beeu

to watch the scene where the mother in the Ozu film dies of acerebral hemorrhage, given

that his own mother had recently died of the sane caLlse. Irnarnura recalls taking refuge in

the bathroom, almost in tears: "0zu followed me and came to nrinate next to me. 'Mr. Ima-

mllra,' he ask€d, 'is that what a cerebral hemorrhage looks like? Have I got it right?' At the

tirne I thought hirn incredibly cruel, but I later realized that agreatfihnmaker sometirnes

has to behave like that." Imamuralater said that it was while working for Ozu that he

leamed rnost of the basics of filmmaking. rr

Under Ozu's tutelage, Imarnnra also leamed about the kind of film he did not want to

make. While Ozu's remark was certainly enough to cause resentrnent, what Irnamura per-

haps equally disliked was what he saw as Ozu's celebration of the official version-the

serene world of traditional Japanese aesthetics.

The rnyth of the accepting Japanese woman was another of Imamura's dislikes. As he

told Audie Bock: "Self-sacrificing womeu like the heroines of Naruse's Flocttirtg Clourh and

Mizoguchr'sThe Lfe of )hnru,they don't really exist . . . My heroines are true to life-just

186

look around you at Japanese women."

Imamura went on to define this tn-re-to-

life cinematic womau: "Medium height

and weight, light coloring, smooth skin.

The face of a woman who loves nen.

Maternal, good genitals. Jnicy."rr He was

talking about the heroine of Intentions

of hlurdu' (Akai satsui, aka Murderous

Desire, aka Unholy Desire, 1964), but the

description fits most Imamura women.

She is matemal yet she likes to ntake love.

Most men would perhaps not nake the connection between good juicy genitals and

uotlterhood, but for Imamura this quality is necessary for a woman's full ability to nurture.

This he openly shows in most of his films. In fact, an understanding 0f this link helps one

approach the director's pictures. Imamura told critic Yarnada Koichi: "l am intercsted in the

relationship of the lower part of the human body and the lower part of the social structure otl

which the realiry of dailyJapanese life supports itself."li

Tlre Imanura wornan receives her first full-length portrait in Pigs and Battleshps (Buta

to gunkan, 1961), where YoshimuraJitsuko cannot protect her innoceltce but closely guards

lrer independence. In The Insect Woman (Nippon konchuki, 196il, the heroine (Hidari

Sachiko) has tlte same absolute resolve as the ant we are shown attempting an up-hill climb

in the first scelle. In the last scene, like the insect, the protagonist struggles on: getting her

stockings dirty, breaking the thong of her clog (mishaps that would make a Naruse heroine

burst into tears), pe$evering despite these minor misfortunes.

Botlr this and the film which was to follow, Intentions of Mrn'der, were cowritten with

Hasebe Keiji, who had worked with Ichikawa Kon on both the early comedies and on Confla-

grntion, and who was particularly ade;tt at

creating au incisive, image-drive n narra-

tive. In the later film, the rape victim

(Harukawa Masumi) outlives the rapist,

legalizes her son, and triumphantly comes

into her own in a man's world.

Imarnura's women are all suruivors.

Within the first fifteen minutes of. A X[an

Vanisha (Ningen johatsu, 1967), the female

protagonist has forgotten about the miss-

ing ob ject of her search (the vanished

lntentions of Murder, 1964, lmamura Shohei, withHarukawa Masumi.

.! -'

*{' 1

The lnsect Woman, 1963, lmamura Shohei, withHidari Sachiko

187

man) and has Wagnatically transferred

her affections to the interviewer who is

helping lrer find him. In Tbe Profouncl

Desire of the Gods (Karnigami no fukaki

yokubo, aka Kuragejima: Tales frorn a

Southern Island, 1968), the yolulg shamau

rnay be rnentally disturbed but she also

possesses a vitaliry that allows her to sur-

vive in a modern civilization which attempts

to extinguish that very qualiry.

Both Kawashima and Imaurura find a

reftrsal of "civilization" admirable because it is this primitive naturalness that is responsible

for the wholeness which some Japanese still exhibit. It appears in various forms. In Ihe

Pornogruphers (Erogoto-shi-tachi yori: Jinrui-gaku nyumon, 1966), based on the popr-rlar

Nosaka Akiyuki novel, the protagonist is a man who feels it is his duff to restore some of the

things that civilization has denied. First on his list is pomography, which harms no one and

pleases marly. To this end he devotes himself to making bh-re films and manufacturing life-

sized latex dolls. We watch hirn at work-a serious, dedicatedJapanese craftsrnan. The film

is like a docunentary, an impression reinforced by the Japanese title of the film, whose literal

translation is Pornographers; An Introdnction to Anthropolog'. fuid at the end, busily,

happily inserting real hair into his creation, the artis an at work does not notice that his

houseboat studio has slipped its nooring line. In the calm coda of the filru, we watch hinr

drift, all unknowingly, through the cauals of Osaka and out into the Pacific Ocean, preslun-

ably never to be heard of again-the end of a specles.

InThe Profotntcl Desire of the Goch, filmed entirely on location on the southern island

of Ishigakijima, much of the footage of

its original three-hour length is devoted

to the topography of the place, its flora

and fauna, including the islanders

whose ways are as prirnitive as they are

natural. But two-thirds through, the

story suddenly breals off and a title

tells us that several years have passed.

The spot has been discovered by the

tourist industry-planes, taxis, frenclr

fries. The final sequence-the shamarr

meuaced by the new train-is affect-

188

The Profound Desire of the Gods, 1968, lmamura

Shohei, with Matsui Yasuko, Mikuni Rentaro

The Pornographers,1966, lmamura Shohei, with Sakamoto

Sumiko

ing because we have come to understand the prirnitive and to long for it. Now all is gone.

The cry of the Coca-Cola seller is the voice of doorn. It is the earl,yJaparrcse, the "pritnitive"

olres, wlro are real--not our rationalizing contetnporaries.

Primitives are not taken in by accepted opinion. The hostess in A Historlt of Posttuar

Japnn As Told W a Bar Hostess (Nippon sengo-shi-Madamu Omboro no seikatsu, 1970)

lras only scorn for the official version of the Pacific War and its heroics. "lt wasn't that way

atall," she says. h'tEijanaika (1981), it is the lowly showgirl (Momoi Kaori) who is the real

rebel, and in The Ballad of IVaraltnvto (Narayama bushiko, 1983), Irnamura's version of

the same novel on which Kinoshita based his 1957 film, it is the mother (Sakarnoto Sumiko)

who imposes her will and orders her son to take her up to the mountain.

Imamur ahu said that he wanted to make really human, Japanese, uttsettling films, thus

implying that well-made, plotted, reconcilingJapanese films are not reallyJapanese. Indeed

the director has never liked the cinematically tidy. He has n0 more use for plot than Ozu did,

though for different reasons. He prefers instead a series of stories or, if there is but one stoty, a

chain of scenes only loosely interconnected. Imamura states his preference "for shooting true

things." He elabontes: "lf rny fihns are messy, it is probably because I don't like too perfect

a cinema. The audience must not admire the technical aspects of rny filruuraking, as

they would a cornputer or the laws of

physics."la

Tlre resulting spontaneous appear-

ance of the films is nonetheless often

the result of much planning. Even in

the most documentary-like of all the

filns, ,4 Man Vanishes, the "docu-

mentary" is a construct (cowritten

with Nosaka Akiyuki) and the direc-

tor's control is irnplicit, as in the

scene where he (playing the director

of tlris docume ntary they are making) and Tsuyuguchi Shigeru (playing the interviewer)

talk about the woman at the center of the film, the one searching for the vanished lnan.

hnamurn; You know, she may be falling in love with you.

Tsul,uguchi; That would be awftrl.

Imamura; No, that is just what I want.r5

So rnuch for cintima vdrit6,. Imamur a hu in one line of dialogue openly exposed his

intentions, made visible what most documentarians seek to hide: that a real-Iife film is as

A Man Vanishes, 1967, lmamura

Yoshie, Tsuyuguchi Shigeru.

with Hayakawa

I tJg

directed as any other kind, that the director still picls and chooses and thus creates his own

realfty.

In another such dernonstration in the sAme film, the heroine asks, "Mr. Director, what is

truth?" As though in answer, the walls of the private dining r00m in a srnall restaurant

wlrere they are sitting fall away. The lights are turned up, the canera dollies back to reveal

that we are filming in a fihn studio, and in the midst of this enormous space sit the princi-

pals atasntall table. "This is fiction," 16 says ImamurA, Answering the astonished wotllan's

question. This collp de cindrna (only Imamura, not the others, knew what was going to hap-

pen) answers in the rnost convincing manner the somewh at Rashomon-like question. Real-

ity is sornething we construct, As for abstract reality, it u0 lllore exists than does the abstract

Japanese wornan.

In Imarnura's extremely tight, action-filled framing-sometimes there are srnaller

frames within the frames, windows, or doors, through which even more actiort can be

glimpsed-he indicates his concerns. The director has written: "There are no shots in my

films which do not contain human action. There are n0 empty landscapes 0r unmotivated

cuts... Thereason Iworkthiswayisto avoidthetrapof onlyexplainingcharacter.,. I

love all the characters in rny films, even the loutish and frivolous ones. I want every one of

rrry shots to express this love." Stasis, in the Ozu or Mizoguchi sense, would thus be a luxury

his busy people cannot afford. It would also be an indication of dispassion, which lmamura

himself does not possess. His explanation of this continues: "l'rn interested in people, strong,

greedy, humorous, deceitful people who are very human in their qualities and their failings.

A reason that my fiction films sometimes look like documentaries is because I base nty char-

acters 0n research into real people." ti

Likewise, hnamura caunot afford the ternporal equivalent to entply spaces-free tirtte.

Tlrere are very few long, lingering, actionless shots until the late films: Black Rain (Kuroi

anre, 1989), The Eel (Unagi, 1997), Doctor Akngi (Kanzo sensei, 1998), and Lukeu,arm

Water tmder the Bridge (Akai hashi no shita u0 nllrui mizu, 2001). Vitality is created

through a crowded canvas and abreakneck speed,

ln The fusect Woman, whole weeks are compressed into just three cuts. The heroine's

chitd pulls a hot soup cauldron over and is scalded to death; cut to a detail of the child's

body; cut to the crying mother, now at one of the new-religion centers-weeks have passed.

Using the only punctuation that Ozu pennitted himself, the straight cut, ImamLua creates an

equally laconic world.

Iraryeance Is fotine (Fukushu suruwawafe ni ari, I97D, a study of a killer, is filled with

temporal short cuts. The body of the first murder victim is found in an empty field; cut to a

helicopter, then pan down to the field nowswarmingwith police. Afewscenes later, the mur-

derer (}gata Ken) is shown in atruck with his next victim; cut to the helicopter and the field;

190

Vengeance ls Mine, 1979, lmamura Shohei, with Ogata Ken, 0gawa Mayumi.

cut to the murderer in a train looking out as the train passes the field. These scenes go by so

fast and push the chronology at such a pace that one does not even notice all the scenes

deliberately left out.

Sornetimes, instead of cutting, Imamura will swiftly cram all we need to larow into a sin-

gle traveling shot-one filledwith spatial vanety, though the temporalvalue is constant. A

spectacular exatnple from the same film is cornposed of trvo end-to-end traveling shots. The

first shows the murderer going to a uew town. We are in the train with him. The scene is

filled with passengers getting ready t0 get off the train. Through the windows, the station

slides into view. When the murderer also alights, the canera gets off along with him, staying

just behind as he traverses the platform, passes through the wicket, leaves the station, and

gets into ataxi. Cut to the taxi stopping 0n a small street. The second traveling shot begins at

once. The killer gets ont, pays, walls up the street. The camera contiuues to follow him as he

turns, opens a gate, passes through the garden, and enters an inn, through the windows of

which we see the proprietress playing rnahjong. Without interruption, the shot proceeds up

the stairs as she leads hirn into the second-floor r00m, which will be his.

Though no time has been elided, the frame has been so filted with motion that the

sequences, which are actually relatively long, seem short. They have pushed us into the

film's chronology and rnade us feel its urgency. Like e-maki, these traveling shots have both

informed and oriented, while at the same time producing an effect of overflowing vitality,

one which bursts the confines of the frame. For its equal, the West would have to wait until

tlre invention of the steadicaln, as seen in the opening shot of Robert Altman's Ihe Plaltsy

(1992) and in the celebrated into-the-nightclub-through-the-kitchen-entry shot in Martin

Scomese's Goodfellas ( 1990)

-

)--r

191

THE EARLY INDEPENDENTS: HANI AND TESHICAHARA

pf ack in the late 1950s, when Nikkatsu was leading the way-with its new directon show-

lJ ing a rnodest profit and an enlarged, mostly young audience promising to reward its

irtcreased turnout of youth-oriented fihns-shochiku, the most conseruative of the com-

panies, decided to allow its directors a bit more autonorny as well, something which it had

previously accorded only Ozu Yasujiro and Kinoshita Keisuke.

Shochiku thus cautiously encouraged a number of assistant directors, among them

Oshima Nagisa, Yoshida Kiju, and Shinoda Masahiro. This group was the nucleus of an

identity later created by the media with the help of the studio: nuberut, bagu (nouuelle

uague,or "new wave") , a copy of the conmercial designation used for the new French film

product of the 1950s which incorporated such otherwise dissimilar directors as Jean-Luc

Godard, Frangois Truffaut, and Claude Ch abrol.

That the audience was ready for a "new wave" kind of picture had already been indicated

by the reception given the work of Hani Susumu i avery young director working completely

outside the studio systern. Hani was enployed by Iwanami Eiga, the fihn-producing section

of a publishing company, and his methods were utterly different frorn those who had studied

fihnmaking in the rnainstrearn studios.

He had made a series of documentary

slrorts, most notably Children in the

Classroom (Ky oshitsu no kodomotachi,

1954) and Children Who DrAu, (E wo

kaku kodomotachi, 1955),

In 1960, Hani filmed his first fea-

ture, Bad Bo1,s (Furyo shonen, 1951).

Mixing documentary with fiction in this

filnr about boys in a reformatory, Hani

improvised scenes with the young delin-

quents. Starting with no story atal\, he gradually built Llp a series of situations and, in the

end, created a highly perceptive fihn. While the boys were sometimes told what the situation

wff, the dialogue was their own, as was the "acting." Hani s00n discovered that the camera

went largely ignored. Since the boys had all earlier spent time at the reform school, they

quickly fell back into their old lives, the difference being, according to Hani, that now they

were reliving their lives. This made the young actors thoughtful and gave the film a deliber-

ate quality.

While the actors did not consider their actions, they seemed to be considering the conse-

quences, which, of course, they abeady knew. This attractive arnbivalence led to the ironic

final scene of the film, where the protagonist, being released, thanks the institution which

192

Bad Boys, 1961, Hani Susumu

has forrned (or perhaps deforrned) him.

This irony, with its implied social criti-

cism, both made the fihn popr-rlar and

earned it the KinemaJumpo pfize.

Hani's sense of irony was to con-

tinue into later films. His next feature

wu A Full Llb (Mitasareta seikatsu,

1952). It was made for Shochiku and

used well-known screen actors whom

Hani continued to direct as though they

were arnateurs. In it, a young womarl

fuopular screeu star Ar irna Ineko) wants to better herself. She tries various neans: radical

politics, drana troupes, a nunber of men. At the end, avery long close-up indicates that the

womau has found happirress by behaving in the manner in which mauy Japanese house-

wives behave: subservient, repressed, ferninine. But this does not lessen the irony.

She ancl He (Kanojo to kare, 1963) explores the sarne theme, a woman's atternpts to dis-

cover herself, though n0 solution is

offered here-ironic or othenvise. She

(Hidari Sachiko, whon Hani had mar-

ried) plays a happily rnarried wife in

the filn itself; he, her husband (Okada

Eiji), is a good provider. But this is not

enough for her. Again, at the end, there

is a long close-up as the wife lies in bed,

sleepless , gazing into the darkness. She

is lr alf- a fr aid, h alf-hopefu l.

The methods used in She and He

are sittrilar to those of Bad Bo1,s. Hani and his scenarist, Shimizu Kunio, followed no script.

They wrote the lines as they went along, and each set-up became a documentary-like affair.

The tlreme of finding oneself is repeated in Bricle of the Andes (fuldesu no hanayome, 1966),

a Tolro productiotr in which a rnail-order bride (Hidari again), straight from Japan, feels

that she must somehow find her true self, married, and in the wilds of Peru as she is.

Hani's wolneu, well understood, well presented, are far from those of Mizogr-rchi Kenji or

Yoslrinru ra Kozaburo, and nearer to those of Imamura. Yet these directors would a\l agree

tlrat theJapanese wonan is a fitting symbol of a problern which many f.ace: how to leam to

be yourself in a society that doesn't want you to. Though Mizoguchi's wonen largely fail,

Hani's occasionally don't.

I

A Full Life, 1962, Hani Susumu, with Arima lneko

She and He,1963, Hani Susumu, with Hidari Sachiko

r93

This tteed to rcalize the self is not limited to wotuelt. In the Daiei fihn Chilch'ert Hartcl in

Huncl (Te wo tsuttagu ko-ra, 1964), a remake of an Inagaki Hiroshi fihn from 1948 based

0n AIt earlier Itami Mansaku script, a backward child comes to realize his limitations and

Itettce lris possibilities. In Tbe Song of Bu:arta Toshi (Buwana Toshi no uta, 195), an ordi-

nary Japanese man (Atsumi Kiyoshi, later famous as Tora-san) who never before bothered

with notious as to who he night be other than a Japanese, finds hinrself without a clue irr

darkest Africa. The filrn is rttade of up documentary-like, unplotted sceues: Toshi up in a tree

baying for hippopotanti; the exciternent and awe of the village people turning 0n the electric

light for the first tinte; and the dancing finale in which we see Toshi pleased, embarrassed,

happ.v, and very hnman.

Both the bride of the furdes artd Toshi in Africa experieuce being outside Japan, away

front the tradition which has so formed them. That tradition itself is by natnre repressive

is sotuething which all people experience, but the Japanese experience it a bit lnore openly.

Society wattts citizens, not fully developed human beings. This thenre auimates much cul-

tural expression, iu Japan as elsewhere. In Hani's films, the thenre of collective traditiolt ver-

sus freedour is an important oue.

A major statement of this thenle was

The htbrno of First Lot'e (Hatsukoi jigo-

knhen, aka Nauami: First Love, 1958), an

independent (Art Theater Guild) film. tui

adolescent boy aud girl nteet and waut

to nrake love. She has had sorne experi-

ence and he has had uone-but both are

equally innocent. Their voyage to experi-

ence finds its central staterrent in the

desperate sinceLif,v of the yoLutg people

and in the machinations of a. society

which threatens to (and eveutuall,v does)

overuhelm them.

Serttiruentality, posing an eqLlal threat, is avoided by the harshuess of the photography;

by a ltelvoLls, prying camera; by the refusal of an,vthing short of actual locations; and by the

tact and grace with which the ,voung people are directed. This thoroughly modern version of

the giri-ninjo thene garnered great critical and popnlar acclaim, but it wru also Hani's last

major film.

With the "new wave" comluercializing uew attitudes, and the studios moving to cash iu

ott wltat they perceived m a fresh, open market, Hani discovered further productions nudging

hiru itt ways he did rtot want to go. Since he had no commitnrent to the film industry, he

194

The lnferno of First Love, 1968, Hani Susumu, withMitsui Koji, Takahashi Akio

returned to the docume ntary , a gerlre for which he is now famous in Japan he is the fore-

most director of wildlife films. In thern, Hani finds a nattnalness and, yes, as he recently

phrased it, an innocence which he no longer finds in Japan.

Most "members" of t\'rcJapanese new wave did not even know each other, nor did they all

come fron the same studios. Hani was unaffiliated, as was Teshigahan Hiroshi who, son

(and scion) of the founder of a very successful ikebana (flowe rarrangement) school, early

made experimental films and then privately financed his first feature, Pitfall (Otoshiana,

rg52)

Pitfall, as was the case with the rnajority of this director's films, was scripted by novelist

and playwright Abe Kobo. Their most successful fihn together was Woman i,n, the Dunes

(Suna n0 onlla , 1964). It was, Iike most of their collaborations, a parable. A school teacher

0n an outing is irnprisoned by the local folk in a large sand pit with a recently widowed

woman. His attempts to escape are all unsllccessful. Eventually, he adapts to his impossible

life. In discovering a way to make potable the water that seeps from the sand, he hits upolt

his purpose in life. When the chance to escape finally cornes, he refuses it.

Woman in the Dunes,1964,

Teshigahara Hiroshi, withKishida Kyoko, Okada Eiji

The therne of the search for and discovery of identity shares muclt with the central thetle

of Hani's fihns, though Teshigahara's way of illustrating it is quite different. Early a maker

of documentaries, Teshigahara combines great technical skill (extreme depth of focus,

imrnaculate detail, elaborately choreographed camera movement) with a precise fidelity to

his script, a combination which resulted in a number of interesting theme-related Abe-based

films, such as The Face of Another (Tanin no kao, 1966) and Ihe Man Withou,t a fi[ap

(Moetsukita chizu, aka The Burned Map, 1958). ht the fonner, arnan loses his face in a

laboratory accident and has a new one made for hin. In the latter, a detective unwillingly

assunes the identiff of the rnissing man for whom he is searching.

l\

195

Teshigahara has said that

he believes his talents are those

of a canreranran. It is certainlv

tn-re thztt the docunrentan'-like

realisnr of his early work is

striking. The two-part docu-

rttentaru ,.fosd Tlt'res ( 1959 and

1965) rrnd 5'u tn tner Sokliers

(Sarrra soruj a, 1971), the latter

scripted bv John Nathan, are of

a clesigned realisnl rarc in Japa-

nese filnrs. Working closelv

with photographer Segawa Hiroshi and conrposer Takenritsu Toru, Teshigahara createcl

sollle of the tuost strikingl)' original filnts of the decade.

Litter, having taken over as head of the ikebana school after his father's death, the direc-

tor tuLned much nrore'Ja1tanese." Interesting hinrself in traditional aesthetics, he nracle

srrclr heavilv detailed historicztl dramas rc Rik.)'tt (1989) ntd Prittcess Go (Go-hinre, aka

Basara, 1992). This sudden return to zur almost prewar-like rnonumentality was obviouslv

predicatecl on the traditionalisnr of his new profession. It also affinued a kind of cultural pat-

tern we have previonsll, encountered. a period of exploration in the various realities outside

Japan, concluding with a return to Japanese tradition as it is understood.

THE "NEW WAVE": OSHIMA, YOSHIDA, AND SHINODA

f'r redit for the cresting of the "new wAVe" is nsually given to Shochiku and the stable of

f.l young clirectors it initialll, sponsorecl. The first of these was 0shima Nagisa. A twentv-sir-

year-old assistant director, Oshima wAS given an unprecedeuted full-diLectoLship under the

"lrew-wave poliq'," desigued to pronrote fresh and free films, and allowed to direct A Tott'tt of'

Lot,e atcl Hope (Ai to kibo lto mAchi, 1959). That Kido himself gave this hackneved title

to a film about neither love nor hope and which the director had wanted to call Tlte Bo.)'

Who Solcl His Pi,qeoz indicated just how fLesh aud free the uew-wave experience with the

company was going to be.

Though Kido disliked the picture, calling it a "teltdeucy film" and allowing it onl.v

restricted distribution, it got good reviews. After half a year the young diLector was allowed to

go 0n and urake Cruel Stor.l, 0J'Ioutb (Seishun zankoku rnouogatari, aka Cruel Tales of

Youtlr, 1950) and The ,lutt's Rurinl (Taiyo no hakaba, 1960). While these films could be

seen as extensions of the coucenrs of the taiyozoku-violeut youth in revolt-thev were

196

Sunmer Soldiers, 19J1, Teshigahara Hiroshi, with Keith Sykes,

Lee Reisen

Cruel Story of Youth,1960, Oshima Nagisa, with Kawazu Yusuke, Kuwano Miyuki

also found interesting by the critics for their narrative innovations and inherent social con-

cents. The filmmakers of the postwar era had embraced politics of a leftist hurnanism. Now

Oshima went on to express disillusion with the organized left and a continued despair with

the right.

0slrima's fourth fihl, IVight and Fog in Japan (Nihon n0 yoru to kiri, 1950), was

clearly intended as his declaration of independence. A political fable which criticizes both

right and left, it was made with rninimal rneans, mauy long takes, and is filled with theatri-

cality. It is surprising that the director thought he could peacefully foist this on his studio,

and it s an)azing that Shochikr-r allowed him to make it at all. Perhaps the comparly was

reassured by the inclusion of a wedding scene. The film, however, is not about a wedding. It

is about the failure of the left to end the United States-Japan Securify Treaty during the 1950

deuronstrations. The film is so palpably opposite the concems of Kido, so little in accord with

tlre "Ofuna flavor," that one can only read its production as achallenge.

In his adversarial stance, Oshima was to Japanese cinema somewhat as Jean-Luc Godard

was to the French. "l don't agree specifically with any of [Godard's] positious," 0shirra told

Joan Mellen, "but I agree with his general attitude in confronting political themes seriously

in film . . ."rs In Oshima's view, u0 one else was doing this. "My hatred forJapanese cinema

includes absolutely all of it," re he said in a later interyiew. fui earlier statement provides

insight: "lt is not a rnatter of good or bad. My point is that their fihns [0zu's and Mizo-

guchi's] were rnade to be acceptable to the Japanese because they were based upon a famili-

arity with general concepts readily understandable by the Japanese-they used a narrative

197

style long established and understood, but I an not attempting to remain within this conge-

nial, older ntode. Our generation cannot rely on the congeniality of our all beingJapanese in

order to communicate." lo

If lVight snd Fog in Japan was intended as provocation, it was successful. Shochiku,

provoked, shelved the film after only a few days on limited release. It used a recent political

assassination as anexcuse, pleading the risk of political "unt'est." Oshirna famously storrned

out, calling for his studio to just stop using that term "new wave" once and for all. Shochiku

did not, and indeed Oshima subsequently released a number of independently produced

films through shochiku.

A breach had been made, however, and filrn audiences now realized that there existed an

alternate cinema. Oshima was even able to pinpoint its birth: "ln the rip of a woman's skirt

and the btrzz of a motorboat, sensitive people heard the heralding 0f a new generation of

Japarrese film."rr The reference is to Crazed Fruit (1955), by NakahiraKo, one of the direc-

tors Oshima spared from his general condemnation.

fuirong the others thus reprieved was Masumu ruYuuzo. Oshima lauded him for, as he

said, turttittg his back on the lyricisrn dominant iu Japanese society and cinema. He also

approved of Masurnura's saying that

his goal was "t0 paint, in all their

excess, the desires and passions of

hurnan beings." rr Such a statement

leads one to sr-rmrise that prior Japa-

nese cinema did not do this, or at

least not in terms that were accept-

able to Oshima himself.

Just what the director expected of

cinema is indicated in olte of his

rnost interesting pictures, Decttlt bl'

Hm4qing (Koshikei, 1958), based on

a real incident which had occurred in 1958 and had already been the subject of several sto-

ries aud a novel. According to 0shima, none of these prior authors had delved deeply enough

to reveal what he called the cot€, the inside of the crinte.

The plot concems a young Koreau who had presurnerbly murdered aJapanese schoolgirl.

In the resulting investigAtion, Oshima takes the Korean side (against which, on all issnes,

theJapanese are often prejudiced) and declares the youth ethically innocent. He argues that

law is not possible without crirne, and that policemen are unimaginable without criminals.

Upou being assured that it is very bad to kill, the conderrned young Korean boy obserues with

unassailable logic: "Then it is bad to kill lne."

19tl

Death by Hanging, 1968, Oshima Nagisa, with Do-yun Yu

In order to prove to the suspect his own guilt, the police set out to re-enact the crime-each policemanplayingarole. This device finds thern fint re-creating the rape and the mur-

der before the uncomprehending eyes of the youth, and then going back further in time to

act out the boy's earlier years, or rather, their idea of what his early years had been like.

Being first and foremost Japanese and second, cops, their ideas of childhood in the Korean

neiglrborhoods of Japan arebtzarre indeed. Oshirna skillfully r-rnderlines both the comedy of

their lack of imagination and the horror of their lack of comprehension.

The policernen's inept pantomime is alienating to the extent that we fully feel the irony

of tlris crime within a crime within a crime, the latter being capital punishrnent itself. The

fihn accuses the police of being more obsessed with the idea of crime than any criminal is.

Consequently, from a misguided wrongdoer the law liter ally creates a crirninal.

This is brilliantlydisplayedwhen one of the policemen, carried away, atternpts to kill. He

is so intent upolt re-creating a role that he assunes it. As 0shima has said (and in doing so

explaine dJapan's continued failure to come to any sort of terms with its wartime past): "As

long as the state makes the absolutely evil crime of murder legal through the waging of wars

and tlre exercise of capital punishntettt, we are all innocent." ri

Stylistically, the fihn is entirely presentational. The "realism" of Oshima's earlier

films-akeady on its way out in IVight and Fog in JapaTt-rs nowhere to be seen. Those

foreign critics who mention German playwright Bertolt Brecht in speaking of this film (and

almost all of thern do) are certainly correct in implicitly evoking the stage. Oshirna was ear-

lier interested in expressionist drana and belonged to a Kyoto troupe that specialized in it-not Breclrt, however, so much as Frauk Wedekind and Ernst Toler.

Just as expressionist drarna is a drama of ideas, so Oshima's largely expressionist films

are coltcerned with thought. We follow arglunents in nany of his pictures, attd these are pre-

sented in stagelike or essay-like forrn. To the older generation these films appeared odd

indeed.

The opinion of Kobayashi Masaki, under whom Oshima had worked as assistant director,

is typical. After looking at his pupil's films, the older director said that, while they had a cer-

tain political interest, 0shima was clearly not an artist who loved the craft of filru for itself.

Though sot]te critics have sought to fit Oshirla into the very rnaittstrealn he was trying to

overthrow, the attempts have not been convincing. His stagelike settings and shallow playing

spaces have been seen as continuations of early Japanese citretna; his expressiouistu has

antecedents in various late-Taisho and early-Showa cinema; likewise, his staring calnera-

shots held for an unusually long time-is seen as something he shares with Mizoguchi

Kenji.

Nl of this is problern atical. When one sees a long-held scene in contemporary Japanese

cinerna, the influence of Mizoguchi is but one possibiliff. The influence of Michelangelo

199

futtoniotti, of tlte "talking head," 0f the television iuteruiew-all of these are eqllallv likelv.

In the case of 0shinta, siuce words are as important to hiru as images, zurd ideas are perhaps

lnore iruportant than enrotions, the long take is one of his ntost eff'ective tools.

Oshinra's style is eclectic-it becontes whatever best serves his purposes. The stagelike

aLtificialitl' of filnrs such ts Deilh b)' HurrgLiz.q is followed bv the "reAlislu" 0f Bo),(Shonen,

1959). The slow pace of lVight urul Fog ut .lultute (onlv forw-three shots in the whole fihr) is

followed b.v the swifl pace (fifteen

hundred shots) in l'iolertce ut lVoorr

(Hakuchu no torimA, 1966). In this

sense, Oshima is like a multitude of

directors, regardless of their respec-

tive political stances.

One rnight equallv see Oshimzr AS

a nlore serious Suzuki Seijun. Both

Llse popular culture, both are colt-

cenred with political ideas, both love

talk for its owu sAke, and both share

LL velr real renegade inventiveuess.

Both are also intellectuals whose fihns are abont political sedition. This is what huamura

Shohei indicated wltetr, comparing himself with the vounger director, he said: "l'nt a colut-

try fartrer; 0shima Nagisa is a samllrai."rt He was implving that he was not iuterestecl in

politics and that Oshinta was interested in little else.

One of tlte most political and, at the salue time, autobiographical of Oshillu's pictures is

The Ceren?ut.t' (Gishiki, 19lt), the story of a famil.v as shown throngh their ceremonial

occasious of weddings artd funerztls. This twentv-five-vear period of postwar history', whiclr

soruewhat resenrbles Oshima's owll

early vears, is seen as both personal

attd as an allegory of postwar Japan.

Each cerelronv is carefully timed to

coincide with a year significant irr

the postwar histonr of Japan. Each

ntarks a stage 0n a downward spiral,

for it is tire "spiritual death" of Japan

that 0shima is chrouicling.

Oshima as romantic intellectual

is a reading which might accor,rnt for

some of his extremes and much of

200

The Ceremlny, 19l1,0shima Nagisa, with Kaku Atsuko,Kawarazaki Kenzo

80y,1969, Oshima Nagisa, with Abe Tetsuo, Koyama Akiko

his stvle. "l'nr ven'sellindulgerrt," he once suid. "l like to do extrene things-the nrore

entlrtrsilrstic I anr. the nrore ertrenle nlv techniqtte becornes." tt 'l'lJe ,lfuttt ll;'ln Le.ft His llt'ill

ott h'iltti ('['oki'r) sens0 sel]g0 hiu'u, 1970) is lur elltbonttelr self-refet'ential pictute. rt \'oultg

filrrrrrurkeL shoots a iihn ubout shooting e filnr.,\'utntttr?t'5itslat' (Nubu tto irnoto,I\)7)) is a

sinrltle allegorv tltout.faplur's Lelations ll,ith its southennrost, ancl nrost recent, lttrlvince,

Okinltli'u. In it, u Tokvo girl receives u letteL fronr an Okinltwiur bov cluintirtg to lte hel long-

lost ltrother'. The stvles ol the lilnrs iue s0 diffeLent thut one w0lrlcl rrot guess thev lvere the

lvork ol the sanre director.

Arrother ltew direction enrerged in ht tfu llertltn ql thc Jc,resc,s (Ai no kririclu. aku Ernllile

oi the Senses, uka'fhe lielrhn ol the Senses, It)76). Blned 0n ulr uctuul occuruence, thc filnr is

Irbout a lulur lutcl a \\'0rlriur conrpletelv cor'rsttntecl ii'ith eltch otltet'. Ser hltd:tlwrtts been pte-

sent in Oshinur's fihrs, usultllv ls a nretaphor hlL politicltl p0\\'er-nriul ovet w0n11111-1111t

in this lticture the senurl relu-

tionship is eqrutl. Kichizo, u

rerrl 1930s bortchi. is as coni-

pletelv enanrored of 0sudu, the

lrew nraid in the house, ln she

is of hinr. I'heir love is sholrr

irr entirelv sertutl tenls.

The filnr's erotic corrterrt

hrm led it to be descLibecl as

harcl-core, n,hich, in pltrt, it

is. This should not, however,

be confused r,vith ponlogrqrhic.

Yet the lilnr wln refusecl screen-

ing et the 1977 Ner,v York lrilnr Festir,'al. furcl, in 2000, rvhen it lvlts revivecl "Llllcut" in Japan,

it was onlv the wontzur lvho wes renderecl l,isible-the nuur, whose nuditr' (vuhrerabilitr') is

to be avoided at all costs in serist countries, wes still nrodestlv censorecl. As Oshirua luu suicl,

such ceusolship nracle his pure fihn dirtr,. The filnr certainlv cloes uot seek to excite its audi-

ence. htcleed, given its outconre, the Lesult is just the opposite.

Ian Burluna has clescribed one view of the fihn: "Sex beconres the lovers' whole cluustLo-

phobic urriverse and after strangling her lol'er during a shudderirtg clinrax, the girl cuts off

his penis as the ultinrate gestuLe of possession. It is zt beautiful but frightening lilnr perf'ectlr,

erpressing thut uurious-sensuous anrbivalence lvhich is so much a prut of the .f aparrese

psvche." r"

ht lhe Reulm oJ the Jazses is also Oshima's nrost openlv transgressil'e filnr. It attenrpts to

break all the various "public clecencr"' lalvs in Japzul, uncl ztctuallv involved the police in a

20t

ln the Bealm of the Senses, 1976, 0shima Nagisa, with Fuji

Tatsuya, MatsLrda Eiko

law suit. 0shima demanded that "obscene" be defined. Given this impossibility, he won the

case. Notwithstanding, the "public decency" laws extant at the time rernain unchanged to

this day. As a political statement, the fihn fails. ,{s an artistic statement of great beauty and

power, it is eminently successful. furd as for those in Japan who maintained that the director

had sold out to the foreign porn rnarket, he retorted: "Completely involved as I am with

being a Japanese, I have n0 way to make films except by exarnining the Japanese and

endeavoring to discover what they are."'t7

Given the opportunity to examineJapan's actions in World War II, Oshima directed the

Japanese-British coproductiotl lVIwry Christmas, Mr. ktu,rertce (Senjo lto rneri kurisumffu,

1983). And, in a Japanese-French coproduction, MdtN, X[ort Arulur" (1937), he had the

chance to view sexual relations with a parodic twist: woman loves ape. Though his own seuse

of history continued to broaden, he coufessed to Bock: "l don't feel that the age of the samll-

rai is mine yet."

Nonetheless, after a long silence and aserious illness, Oshirna finally directed his samu-

rai filrtr, Gohntto (akaTaboo/Forbidden,l99D. With h the Realm of the Sertses,the director

sltows the lovers' ardor triumphiug over customs, mores, and even their owl deaths. Gohatto

repeats the therne, itt that love destroys. Yet, by 1999, heterosexual love ot'l screen, through

repeated exposure, had already lost its transgressive power. Oshima therefore turned to

another expression of desire.

The society at the filn's core is the Shinsengumi, an elite grollp of swordsmeu commis-

sioned in 1853 to form a police unit to counter anti-shogunate activities. They are fanatically

Gohatto, 1 999, Oshima Nagisa

202

loyal, think as a group, and atternpt to subdue personal feelings. Into their midst is enrolled

an extremely handsorne youth. Passion grips the all-rnale Shirlsengumi, discipline disap-

pears, ard death results.

In creating this beautiful and startling fihn, Oshima (who also wrote the script, basing it

0n a Shiba Ryotaro novel) is aided by his actors, film directors Sai Yoichi and Kitano Takeshi

among them; by the photography of Kurita Toyomichi; and by a carefully sustained atmos-

phere of rigid enclosures opening into rich autumn aI gardens. Beautifully styled, essentially

static (despite bursts of swordplay), its anti-establishment message remains strong.

Within Shochiku, the director perhaps most resen'rbling 0shina was Yoshida Kiju. His Good-

for-Nothing (Rokudenashi, 1950) , a iuvenile-delinquent film about student crimes, could be

cornpared with The Crod Stor1, oJ'Youth.In Dried Blood (Chi wa kawaiteiru, 1950), the

criminal elements are rnore mature but still mixed with social concern.

ln Tbe Affctir (Joen, 1967), social concern is even more evident. A young woman (played

by the director's wife, Okada Mariko) fights against her owu sensual nature. She has her rea-

sons, among which is this reaction against a rnother who slept around. Nonetheless, when

she give5 ip-yyith a young day laborer who had known her ntother-she gives in thor-

oughly. The contbination of well-to-do yonng lady and common laborer predicates society's

disapproval. Yet for the daughter, these rneaningless social prejudices-violate thern though

she will-are the only "nonnality" to which she can cling.

Fonnally shot and edited with much economy, the filrl ends honestly. Having settled

with a proper luan, we find the wornan one day waiting for a train. Suddenly, and with a

sllrge of emotion that Yoshida rlakes us feel, she sees the young laborer on the other side of

the tracks waiting for a traiu going

in the opposite direction. His train

arrives first. She waits. Wheu the

train pulls clear he is gone. She con-

tinues to stand there. We are to infer

that at this moment she realizes how

false to her own nature she has been.

Later, Eros Plus Xlassrtuz (Erosu

pLrrasLl gvakusatsu, aka Eros Plus

Vengeance, 1970) and Heroic Pur-

gcttotT' (Rengoku eroik a, 197 0) grcatly

euhanced the director's reputation.Eros Plus Massacre, 1970, Yoshida Kiju, with Kusunoki Yuko,

Hosokawa Toshiyuki

203

The former is a long and complicated examination of sexual and political liberation. Written

by Yoshida and Yaruada Masahiro, it is about love and anarchism-as its title indicates.

Cutting between two storigs-s11e set in the preseut, the other in the early Taisho period-it

concerns two lovers who are both docurnentary fihnrnakers and student radicals. Their rela-

tionship is ntirrored in the second story, that of Osugi Sakae-an early advocate of free love,

abolition of private propertv, and women's liberatisn-21rd her lover.

Though Yoshida has called his films All "allswer" to the films of Ozu, KinoshitA, Knro-

sawa and other tLaditional directors, he is uot unaware of their influences. 'Just as the last

half of [Kurosawa's] Ikiru is concentrated on the . . . discussion of the deceased Watanabe, so

[m1'film] focuses 0n coutemporary persons who act thinking of the dead."rs This is particn-

larlv true of Protrerse (Ningeu no yakusoku, 1985)-scripted after a Sae Shuichi novel by

Miyauchi Fukiko and the director himself-which might be seen as a new kind of Tokl'o

Stor.l'. Here an old nlan (Mikuni Rentaro) murders his elderl.v spollse (Murase Sachiko)

because of the various horrors of old age. Througlt lkiru-like f'lashbacks chrouicling the

stages of his confessiorr, we are brought to undemtand senilify and the virtues of anaesthesia.

Indeed, one of the qualities of these llew films of the late 1950s was their innovative com-

bination of both radical and traditional means though, with Western style now so uruch a

part of the Japanese cinema, it is often impossible to determine whether the compositional

decenteriug of a scene, for example, is to be traced to the Japanese woodblock prints,

Mizoguchi, furtonioni, or modern graphic design.

fuiother of the Shochiku "uew wave" directors, one quite different frorn 0shima or

Yoshida, wffi Shinoda Masahiro. Though, like thern, he came from a theatrical background

(earlier directors, by contrast, such as Ozu, Mizoguchi, Kurosawa, and Ichikawa had been

graphic artists), Shinoda was the only one of the group who had majored in theatrical his-

tory. This, he has said, gave him an aesthetic distance denied the others. "Reality for its own

sake is not what interests rre," he told Audie Bock. "lf ny films had to be perfect reconstruc-

tions of reality, I would not rlake thern. I begin with reality and see what higher idea comes

out of it. " le

In his couviction that something higher than reality exists, Shinoda followed in the steps

of the directors he admired lnore than any othem: Ozu and Mizoguchi. He worked with the

fornter as assistaut on Tok.t'o Tu,ilight, in 1958, and was deeply impressed. Ozu, the young

Shinoda told Kido Shiro, was like an aloof reclining deity obserying the human world,

perhaps looking for and finding that higher reality.

Eveu the "new wave" films Shinoda made are quite different from those of the other

young directors herded into the movement. The best of these films, Pale Flou,er (Kawaita

lrana, 1964), is really as much about cerenlonial behavior as was Mizoguchi's The Lojt611

Fortl,-Set,ut Rortitt , though the subject is the yaku za ratheL than ronin. Shinoda has said he

204

clrose this subject because the yakttzaworld is the only place wltere the Japanese ceremonial

structure is sustained, where au aesthetic response to ceremony is still possible. Though the

yolurg hero stoically dies-exenplifying that "rrasochism" which shinoda claiurs is inher-

ent in the aesthetic irnpulse-there is little bloodshed, and the violence is choreographed in

a traditional fashion.

The opening is particularly striking in its ceremonial presentation. The gangsters are gath-

ered in the gaming room and-in a montage of over one hundred and forty shots that pre-

cedes the first dialogue in the film-the atmosphere of the place and its people is presented.

To intensify and drarnatize this, the director and his composer, Takerlitsu Toru, altered the

sound track. The actual sound of the cards being cut and shuffled is replaced by the sound of

atap-dancing routine. The degree of formalization which this creates is even now suryrising.

It was this opening that heralded the many troubles Shinoda would experience, ones

which resulted in his-like every/one slss's-leaving the hapless Shochiku. When the

scriptwriter for Pale Flou,u (Baba Ataru, working from a story of Ishihara Shintaro) saw his

dialogue shoved aside to make r00rn for all the audio-visuals, he was s0 angry he took his

cornplaints to the company. Had he not also accused Shinoda of makirlg an "arlarchistic"

film, his complaints would perhaps not have been taken so seriously. But the tirnes were such

that this accusation resulted in a nine-month delay in the film's release.

Though the film was successful according to Shinoda-he avers it served as a model for

tlre forrtr and appeffance of Toei's yakuza genre-he went 0u to make nore overtly

Mizoguchi-like pictures. In the series of filrns that followed-Witlt Beautl,nncl Sorrou,

(Utsukushisa to kanashirni t0, 196), based 0n a Kawabata novel; Clouds at Stntset

Pale Flower,1964, Shinoda Masahir0, scene from the opening gambling sequence

205

(Akanegumo, I96D; and Banishecl )rtrt (Hanare goze orin, aka Svmphony in Grav, 1977),

photographed by Miyagawa l\n7v1s-the protagonists, all of them wollelt, bear a strong

family reserrblance to the long-suffering heroines of Mizoguchi and, indeed, are photo-

graphed like theru-long takes, distant, aesthetically balanced sceues, and camera move-

utents which seem to lead these doomed women (usualll' played b.v the director's wife,

Iwashita Shima) to their eventual destmction.

The tnost successful of the director's later films is Double Suicide (Shinju ten no

arrrijitttA, I96D, based Llpon a bunraku play by Chikamatsu. Not only is it less "adapted"

than either the Mizoguchi or Masumllra Yasuzo versions of wlrat amounts to the sane rnate-

rial, its presentation is different as well. Both playvright and director share a fatalistic

view-destiny awaits, nlall is incapable of escaping from it.

The filn's overriding fatalisrl is illustrated by its use of the doll drarla itself. The fihn

opens at the Osaka bunraku theater, where all of the preparations for making the fihu are

seen: light cables are laid, callt-

era positions are deterurined,

and the director himself appea$,

as do his technicians and his

scriptwriter, Tornioka Taeko.

The film begins as a doll-dranra

docurnentary, drawing atten-

tion to how each puppet is held

aud manipulated by the tradi-

tional three meu, two of whonr

are masked. As the story, pro-

ceeds, Shinoda substitutes actors

for the puppets. The actors take

over the telling of the stor,v. One-shot, oue-scene methods are used, aud the conrpletelv

theatrical artificialiry of the doll dramzr is insisted upon.

Yet, though the dolls arc uow alive, the puppeteers rerrain. Thel' are always there,

nrasked by black gAuze, behind which we see their faces, compassionate yet helpless as the,v

watch the charxg[s15-now thoroughly human-find their way to their fate. Shinoda told

Sato Tadao that these figures are as much a part of his film as they are of the puppet plav,

that they "serve as ageuts for the viewer who wants to penetrate the truth of the lovers' plight

[their eventual double suicide]." Thev also represent Chikamatsu hinrself who, in this rnod-

ent reading of the play, "creAted this autisocial world, tinged with the melodramatic concept

of a double suici6[s." i{)

The story is a sirnple one: giri-ninjo, dufv verslls love in this case. The world is that of the

206

Double Suicide, 1969, Shinoda Masahiro, with Nakamura Kichi-

emon, lwashita Shima

doll drarna-all flats and painted sets. When the hero gives way to despair, it is a stage set he

destroys-closed, claustrophobic, inesc apable. This world, as stylized and contrived as that

of, say, ffie Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, rs filmed as though it is realistic-there is little cut-

ting, only two hundred and forty shots; and most of the movement is that of the turning,

gliding c^t'r7era.

It is also the world as theater. Shinoda retums in this film to the rlear beginnings of cinenta,

for tlre good reason that his story-inescapable fate-is close to those of early fihns. The

experirnental nature of the picture (little is owed to contemporary film narrative) and its

beauty (art direction by Awazu Kiyoshi; photography by Narushima Toichiro; music by

Takernitsu Toru, who also helped write the script) make this return to simplicity a moving

experience, one which ilh-rstrates Chikamatsu's fatalistic concept of awaited destiny and the

impossibiliry of escape.

That our destiny will catch us in the end

before anything else is again illr-rstrated in

Assassination (Ansatsu , 1954), a picture

wlriclr Ichikawa Kon, an early supporter of

Shinoda, thought his finest work. The film

takes place iu 1853 (with flashbacks to

earlier action) and deals with the plots attd

counterplots which resulted in the opening

of the country. Shinoda-like any period-

film director-takes for granted that the

audience knows the rarnifications of the

story and quickly draws the viewer into these

and that love, a supposed lifesaver, will sink

complications, whether he cornprehends thern or not. It has been said that the story is not to

be understood without a prdcis, and if this is true it would still not bother the director.

Shinoda is not interested in the intricacies of history. They are useful only ittsofar as they

establish the kinds of actiou necessary for the disclosure of the director's main concern-arr

exclusively aesthetic one-nanely, the shape of meu's lives, the patterns they make. This

interest accounts for both the diLector's cursory treatrnent of history and for the structure of

the fihn itself.

In the first reel we believe that we are being introduced to the heroes and that their talk is

about the villains. By the time the second reel is over, however, we have learned enough to

know that those we first thought were heroes may very well be villains, and vice versa. As

the film progresses, we are led to question the ethical moves of everyone in the picture.

Nothing is certain.

At tlre sane tirne, a strongly realistic presentation encourages our belief. YanadaNobuo's

Assassination, 1964, Shinoda Masahiro, with 0kada

Eiji, Kimura lsao

207

script, based on the Shiba Ryotaro novel, is as prosaic of fact as it is baroque of gesture;

Kosugi MASao's black-and-white photography is purposel.v grainv, with strong contrasts,

looking like a feudal newsreel; and Takemitsll's rrusic is spare and evocative of the period.

Shinoda, as was to beconte his custom wheu making historical films, shows us as lnAuv

authentic structLues as he can find. The result is a film in which uucertainty is tempered bv

alt apparent reality. Shinoda said that he wanted to see what "higher idea" could come out

of reality. This is just what he attempts in Assnssiruttiort. In this regard, he was much like

N,lizoguclti, who would sometimes tell an nnderstated story through the nrost definite of real-

istic lleans. Shinoda ouce said of a N{izoguchi scene: "The portrait of Oharu's despairing

flight through the bamboo grove Iin The Lilb oJ')lnrzr] couveys as much of the tragedy of

the human condition as anv film ever made."'rr We don't know where she is going 0r evelt

exactly why, but the woman and the grove are as real as life itself.

Sotttetitues, ltowever, Shiuoda's delicatelv balanced aestheticism may be an end in itself.

Exanrples are ltis "kabLlki" filn, The Scrtnclctlous Ach,ertfures oJ'tlte Burnikcnl (Buraikan,

1970), based olt a Terayama Shuji script; a later bunrakn film (also after Chikarnatsu),

Gonza the Sltearman (Yari no Gonza, 1985); an evocation of old Edo, Shuruku (199); and

the spectacular cltantbaru,)u,l Cnsfle (Fukuro no shiro , Igg}-all beautifully mannered

exercises in tlte Mizoguchi rlode, with nannerist finish taking the place of character interest.

Ittdeed, this heightened aestheticism is to be observed in others of the "ltew wave."

Oshinra Nagisa's aesthetic concerns in Goltatto had critics comparing the filn to the late

Mizoguchi pictures of forty vears before. Yoshida Yoshishige's Wttherirtg Heights

(Arashigaoka, 1988), the Emily Brontd novel done in a period setting, is concerned almost

errtirely with art for its owrt sake. These fihns also indicate aJapanese characteristic-

a returu to a self-conscionsJapaneseness after a period of foreign-inspired experimentation.

AFTER THE WAVE

following the innovatious of the 1960s and the gradual accolnlnodation of the "ltew

I wave" directors, it wonld have been appropriate if-had the finances of the motiou pic-

ture industry uade it possible-another new wave of young directors were to lrave appeared

in the 1980s. They did not.

The majorily audience, debauched by television, vanished forever. Despite occasional vis-

its to movie houses for pictures about dogs left behind in the fuitarctic and the like, a regular

audience would never return. The later story of the Japanese fihr industry (as distinguished

front the later story of the Japanese cinema) is one of decline and bankruptcy. Thus far in

this accourtt, we have followed a nurnber of industrial ups and downs-always agaiust a

backgrouttd of general audience availability. Now there was uo general audience available.

2qtt

Genre products kept some companies afloat for a time. YanadaYoji's Tora-san; lt's

Tough Being a rtlan (Otoko wa tsuraiyo, 1!59-96) series, which continued its success until

the death of its star (Atsumi Kiyoshi as the beloved "Tora-sau"), kept Shochiku solvent for

decades.

Genre as such, however, could no longer cornm ard a rnarket. What happened to the

yaktrzafilm is instructive. With the jidaigeki fading into television, this modern descendant

of tlre matatabi-mono became, for a time, the leading action-film genre. Yakuzaetiquette is

really aparody of the samurai code, and its expression is actually a continuation of what one

critic called the "Chushingurarnentality." With such "Japanese" virtues as loyalty, dedication,

and subseruience inculc ated, one might have thought that a lasting popularity was assured.

Stylistically conseruative, the yakuza genre was further a "rationahzed" product in that it

was constructed of standard units: the "retuln" scene, the "identification" scene, the "recon-

ciliation" scene. These were shot, from film to fihn, in more or less identical fashion. Like

many tradition al Japartese cultural products, the films were constructed of modules, one

attachedto another. Not only did they resemble the charnbara in this way, they even reflected

0noe Matsunosuke's rnethods-one duel per reel. Such rationalizatiot-t also means a prod-

r-rct which is cheaper to make and easier to distribute, thus reducing the unit price.

Yet the populariff of the yakuzafilnt lasted only adecade, from about 1963 to 1973. Fihn

yakuza, models of submission, were quite unlike the rnodem gangsters with which audiences

were now farniliar from crime films. What is more, the sacrifice of individuality for the sake

of the group (giri-ninjo again), the message inherent in the ritualisticyakuza fihn, was of

little interest to alnore permissive, younger audience. As a result, though producers forced

directors to keep churning out the product, the genre itself died.

Many genres died along with the yakuza film, including the "youth film," a product

wlrose directors were now said to have nached arr average age of sixty-five. Eventually, in the

eiglrties and nineties, the yakuzafiln became just another vehicle for violence, along with

filnrs about fast cars, aliens, and natural disasters. As has been mentioned, there was some

attempt to rethink the genre, notably in the filrns of Kitano Takeshi, Miike Takashi, and

otlrers, but it uever again attained an audience-wide popularity.

In 1971, Daiei turned turtle, carrying down Chaimran Nagatawith it. Later, other corn-

panies tried to stay afl,oat by turning to the production of roman-ponto, a soft-core p0m0-

graphic geure which was to take the place of clandestine blue fihns, themselves victirns of the

pre-Olympic Games cleanup. Along the first was Takechi Tetsuji's Day Dream (Hakujit-

surlru, 1964), a Shochiku picture after a story byTanizakiJun'ichiro. Though it was a sirnple

exploitation picture, filled with rising breasts and open thighs, it aroused some public dis-

ffny, includin g aprotest frorn theJapan Dental Association since the crazed hero who has his

way with the ample heroine is a dentist. There was private disrnay aswell. Tanizaki, who had

209

waltted so much to raise the standards of early Japanese ciuema, was publicly furious at this

example of their decline.

Director Takechi got into deeper trouble with Black Snou,(Kuroi yLrki, 1965). This pic-

ture, about an impotent young man who makes love with a loaded pistol (instead of the

more usual weapon), was highly critical of that safe target, the Arnerican bases in Japan.

Norretheless, the Metropolitan Police Board sued. Though Takechi and Shochiku wol'r and a

higher court upheld the verdict, the director shortly went back to the stage, from whence he

had corne.

There was now precedent for others to build on. Roman-porno buoyed up Nikkatsu, at

least for atime. Romcm colnes from "romantic," the ideabeing that this somehowrnade the

product respectable. In French the word means "novel" (as in the literary genre), lending the

results a jun-bungaku-like luster. For years, Nikkatsu made nothing but these fihns. Their

novelty, while it lasted, wffi enough to ensure a kind of audience and to generate competition

as well. Many new talents ernerged, among them Kurnashiro Tatsumi, a director with literary

preterrsions. Tlte World of Geishn (Yojohan fusuma no urab ari, 1973) was based 0n a jun-

bungaku Nagai Kafu story.

Other, smaller conpanies began to issue plain, if soft-core, blue films, with no romantic

or literary ernbellishrnents. Japan has a category for everything, and so such pictures were

called eroda,k'ushott, a portmanteau word derived from "erotic productions." Though never

hard-core, their intent was titillation. In this, they were successful, since they made up in

nurubers what they lacked in everything else. For a time, alurost half of the annual filrn

production figures released in Japanwere composed of these hour-long minifeatures.

Usually arranged into a triple bill, the pictures were produced by srnall independent com-

panies (such as Okura) and projected in the companies' owll tlteaters, which never showed

anything else. One of their Matsunosuke-like rules was that a stimulating scene should occut

every five minutes. As the genre becarne more established, the films becarne more preten-

tions, with rcom for artistic and political self-importance-as in the films of Wakarnatsu Koji.

Though the product was too severely rationalized to permit anything like creative fihn-

ruraking, the roman-ponlo studios did provide a training school once the rnajor studios had

declined to the point where the master-apprentice systeur ceased to exist. These srraller

studios sewed as a training ground for many yoLlnger directors.

Tlre larger film companies began diversilying when it becarn e apparent that rnaking

films was n0 longer a viable business. Handicapped by heavy studio costs and by a relentless

double-bill distribr,rtion which demauded over one hundred filrns ^

year front each of the

producing companies, other means of making money seemed the only solution. Thus

occurred the anomalies of Shochiku bowling alleys; Daiei supermarkets; and heav,v invest-

ments in railroads, all-girl dancing troupes, and baseball teams.

210

The collapse of the film industry (a phenomenon observed in every country that had one)

did not, of course, nlean tlre collapse of film-as entertainment, art, or both. It merely indi-

cated that one unrealistically expensive way of maki ng a formula product was u0 longer

operative. There was still an enonnous movie audience, but it lvas a minority one. At the

same time, this smaller ar-rdience was not attracted to an industry where the producers were

aftaid of the new and the original, and wherc directors had little say in the kind of work they

produced. In Japan, as in other countries, one answer was independent fihn-pictures rnade

outside of the studio system. This had revitalizedcinema in both Europe andfunenca, and it

would uow benefit the home front as well.

fui initial problem for the independents was not only the exclusive nature of the ruling

rnajors but also the fact that the latter had a caftel on almost all of the theaters. At the sane

time, each rnajor had to keep its houses filled with expensive double-billed features. In these

trying times, a company sometimes did not make enough product and had to acquire a hope-

fully profitable picture from outside its purviews. Ar independent film such as Shindo Kaneto's

T'lte IVaked Island (1950) remained unshowr. No theater was willing to take it, that is, until it

won the Moscow Prize in the same year of its production, thereby enhancing its attractiveness

to theaters back in Japan. A Toei theater was found for it, and shortly other directors discovered

that their productions could find a horne within the beleaguered majors themselves.

Perlraps atffactedby the title, Shochiku releasedTlte Bod1,(Ratai, 1952), an independent

debut film from Narusawa Masashige, who had scripted Toyoda Shiro's The Mistress and

worked on the later Mizogr-rchi fihns. This delicate and understated cornedy is based 0n a

Nagai Kafu story, about a young girl (Saga Michiko, daughter of Yamada Isuzu) who becomes

aware of her charms and proceeds to use them-not Shochiku's kind of film ataII, but in

these tirnes you took what you collld get.

The conpany also released Tok1,o

Bal, (Hidarikiki no sogekisha: Tokyo walt,

1962) , ar.r excellent chase-thriller about

cops and robbers in Japan's capital,

directed by Nonura Yoshitarc, son of corTr-

pany old-timer, Nornura Hotei. For its

part, Nikkatsu allowed Black Stut (Kuroi

taiyo, 1964), Kurahara Koreyoshi's serious

filnr about the bond between aJapaltese

lazz-Ioving youth and an AWOL GI.

The Body, 1962, Narusawa Masashige, with Saga Mi-chiko, Nagato Hiroyuki.

There were, in addition, a growing number of noucornmercial experimental films. These

would eventually be collected in the arclrives of TomiyamaKatsue's hnage Forum, but originally

they were individual efforts which showed wherever they could-rarely in rnotion-picture

211

theaters, though the independent Sasoriza screened a number. funong these ltoltcolnmercial

experimental films were those of Terayarra Shuji, a poet and plalvright whose theatrical

troupe, the Tenio Sajiki, produced sorne of the most interesting theater of the period. His

filnr Tltrou'Au,al'Ibut'Books, Let's Go ittto the Sh'eets (Sho wo suteyo, rnachi e deyo, 1971) is

a playfully anarchist call which could rlever have found its wav into a colrluercial motion-

picture theater.

The first major attentpt to produce independent commercial films and eltcoLlrage their

screening was the Art Theater Guild (ATG), backed by a cousortium which had solle Toho

ntoney but which was mainl,v the work of Towa (headed by Nagamasa and Kawakita

Kasltiko), the foremost importer of foreign films. Originally, ATG's theaters were for foreign

art films (they were the first to show Ingmar Bergman, Robert Bresson, and Luis Buiiuel in

Japan). Later, ATG offered half the productiou costs for newJapanese films, a welconte move,

particularly to the suruivors of the "newwave," nearh'all of whom had lost their jobs.

Tlttts, such irrportant films as 0shinrA's The Cerenrut.l', and Hani's Tlrc lt{brno oJ'First

Llt'e were ATG pictnres. hr addition, the courpany lrelped fund the films of independent

filnrmakers such as Higashi Yoichi. Witl'r ATG's help he nrade Thircl (Sado, aka A Boy Called

Third Base, 1978), based 0n a Teravama Shuji script, and went ou to direct the prize-winuing

Villuge of Drertms (E no naka no boku no mlrra, 1996). Jissoji Akio's Tltis Trarcienl Life

(Mujo, 1970) and Matsumoto Toshio's Funerttl Puracle oJ' Roses (Bara no soretsu, 1969) also

benefitted frorn ATG assistance. Knroki Kazno was given his first directorial opportunifv by ATG

and later went on to make The Assussirtcrtiort oJ Rl,lnlo (Ryonra ansatsu, I974), Rortirt-gui

(1990)-a remake of the 1928 N{akino N{asahiro filnr of the same name-and the autobio-

grzrphicalA Bol,'s Slununq'ht 1945 (Utsukushii natsu Kirishirtra, 2003). Though it onlv lasted

ten years, ATG was responsible for sustainingJapanese cinenra during its most difficult period.

When the crunch was over, toward the end of the l970s,Japanese fihn had found m audi-

ence, a tttuclt smaller olle, and though income from foreign-fihn showings now far surpassed

that frorn Japanese-film showings, there were at least a number of independent comparries

and theaters that could carry/ ou A tradition.

Though three of the major colrpat'ries-

Toho, Shochiku and Toei-are still sonrehow

snriving as of this writing, it has long beerr

apparent that they are being kept alive b1'

nreans other than sirnple filmmaking, The filnr

industry, in Japan, had gone the wA), of all

others. furd here, ru elsewhere, the death of the

irrdustrv allowed new forms of ciuenra to

enrerge.

212

Third, 1978, Higashi Yoichi, with Nagashima

Toshiyuki

MAKINC AUDIENCES

lust as new forms of cinema require new audiences, new spectators require new kinds of

\'l movies. fulong the many innovative changes in the rnedia during the last decades of the

twentieth century, diverse technologies created different kinds of audiences. These, in turn,

made possible both divergent means of viewing and fresh genres to view. Once again, alocal

shift could be observed in which a "patlern of initial Western influence [was] followed by the

development of 'purely' Japanese forms, la pattern] which has been repeated again and

agarn, not only in individual careers but thror-rghout the culture."r In a wzy, the end of the

century was like the Taisho era all over again.

Japan, always technologically adept, soon found new ways to create and augment this

newly segmented audience. Just as earlie r Japanese fihn had successfully divided the field, so

too had it sought to create its audiences. During the early postwar years, the industry even

allocated its spectators: Daiei and Toho appealed to the urban young, Shochiku sought the

fanrily, and Toei had the rurals and whateverJapanpossessed of the lower classes.

When the large audience and the enormous profits disappeared, it seemed only natural to

exert audience control over what was left, though in a consider ably simplified manner. As

always, the controlling power was the producing cornpany.

To be sure, producers (usually representing the fihn company itselfl have always

ordained product-it is after all their money that is being invested. Hitherto, however, cer-

tain filrns had made enough money that some directors-Mizoguchi Kenji, Ozu Yasujiro,

Kinoshita Keisuke , and for a time, Kurosawa Akira-were allowed to make what they

wanted. Their box-office record was 900d, and occasional losses could be written off. There were

also alarge number of producers who desired fine films just as much as the directors did.

Kikushima Ryuzo, for example, one of Kurosawa's writers, was the producer not only of

Red Beard but of Naruse Mikio's fine film,When a Woman Ascends the Stairs. Even the

policies of Daiei's Nagata (who was concerned mainly with rnoney) and Toho's eclectic

213

TanakaTornoyuki (who produced everything from Yojintbo to fulothra) allowed fine films to

slip through.

As tnovie attendance declined, such astate of affairs could not continue. Kurosawa, attlte

end of his career, said: "One reason why we had s0 rnany good directors is that Japanese stu-

dios gave talented people the freedom to make the rnovies they wanted. Now, however, the

people in the marketing department are in charge-and all they think about is the box

office. [So] they keep remaking the sane kinds of pictures. If a movie about a cat does well,

they rnake one about a dog." 'Irtdeed, both feline and canine films made money at the box office. Milo ctnd )tis

(Koneko rnouogatari, aka The Adventures of Chatran, 1987), assistant-directed by, of all peo-

ple, Iclrikawa Kon, and The Storl' of the Lo1t41 Dog, Hachiko (Hachiko m0n0 gatan, 1985),

with a script by, of all people, Shindo Kaneto, were successful financially. The animals were

rigorously controlled-there was even a rLlnor that quite a number of similar-appearing

cats had to be used in filning the feline's dangerous adventures. Carefully controlled, as

well, was the andience.

Subjected to what were, at the time, unprecedented levels of advertising hype, the curious

flocked, money was made, and a precedent was created. The pictures, of course, were un-

exceptional. As Umberto Eco has observed, mass rnedia insists upon repetition, redundancy,

arrd iteration as well as obedience to a schema. This rlreans that the film is fit only as

product, and s00n only product fits the audience.

In this cycle, since the cultr-r ral traffic is all in one direction , any cultural creativily that is

not mainstream will be neglected. Whole visual cultures, many venerable, will disappear,

along with the personal vision of the artist and the apprehension of all that is differsn[-

since these are contnry to the expectations of mass media.

The growing control of producers and the marketing people was not the only reason for

change, however. Japan's new directorial talent was not interested in the values that Kuro-

sawA and his contemporaries had been interested in. These larger issues-the collapse of pre-

warJapan, the Western "invasion," the problerns of the new individualiry-did not concern

yolurg directors, all bom after World War II and nurtured by uthen-burgeoning economy.

Kurosawa Kiyoshi (no relation to Kurosawa Akira), from this new generation, refers to

directon such as Ozu and Kurosawa as "masters of the studio system." Yet, he says, they have lit-

tle meaning: "sometimes when I watch their pictures on television they seem like foreign films

to me. Even though l'm a fan of Ozu, they are s0 different from our time and our films now."r

One of the differences is that the new product is mostly genre oriented. This is partially

due to what the new forms, such as conputer games, music videos, anime, and awealth of

special effects, can accomplish. Pictures tend to exploit the latest means. Easy morphing

means monsters; inexpensive explosions means violence.

214

To be sure, Japan had always devoted itself nore to genre than had many other countries.

There was iidaigeki, gendaigeki, haha n0n0 (about mothers), tsuttta mono (about wives),

the tendency fihn, and a myriad of others. But at the sane time, there were also a large

nurnber of films which were not generic in inspiration.

By the end of the century, however, a majority of the product were deterrnined by genre.

As Kurosawa Kiyoshi saw it, after the studio system collapsed and production ceased, genres

actually grew fewer in number, while those that rernained becarne ubiquitous. "The domi-

rrant genre today is the yakuza genre. I think the reason for this is that theJapanese audience

likes Hollywood films. That is why the main gerlres are mysteries and thrillers ard yaknza

fihns. fuid, of course,one of the most important names here is Kitano Takeshi."*

Genre is certainly one of the ways in which the rernaining audience is funneled into the-

aters, but there are lnany others. Just as we saw the attempt to counter the threat of televisiorr

by introdr-rcing monsters, sex, and wide screen, so we now see an audience wooed back with

genre, spectacle, and the promise of a product to be viewed in a theater only. These films

were rnade independently, were unaffiliated with whatever rnajor studios retnained, and were

able to offer sornething more sophisticated in the way of erttertainment at a significantly

lower cost to the prodllcers.

While the West is familiar with this way of rnaking films, it was relatively unknown in

Japan. A picture could be made for conparatively little since a recently forrned company

would not be burdened with the cost of a full-tirne studio and staff. fuid, as not much was

spent, a najor audience was not needed to realize a profit. Financi al gain, though lirlited,

could still be considered sufficient if it managed to finance another fihn.

Tlre term "independent filrn" in the West atthattime usually indicated an independent

attitude as well. It was the kind of film the urajor production cornpanies could not ntake,

given what was cousidered its narrow audience appeal. This was initially the reading of the

ternr dokoritsu por,rodnkushon inJapan as well. In time, however, as in fulerica, the inde-

pendent film gradually turned urainstream.

Maverick fihns became box-office hits, the avant-garde turned up 0n big-theater screens,

new filmmakers were awarded government prizes. With the expansion andlater contraction

of Japan's econofry, znew conseruatisrn--compared to the relative liberalism of the 1950s

and 1960s-became evident. In film this was seen in the slow backing away from the style of

modern realism to something which could be labeled as "postm0dg11"-a mixing 0f high

and low, art and commerce, which posited that culture had never been as pure as assumed,

tlre notion that all culture is syncretic, hybridized. Postmodernism called f.or adefinite return

to the presentational quality which had always defined theJapanese drarnatic ethos, bringing

about the emergence of that completely presentational film genre, anime. This return to the

presentational implies a return to open control (as opposed to the covert control implied by

i)

r):,

215

the representational), and it operates 0n many levels.

One such level is the open presentational character of the film itself. fuiother is the

hands-on and openly controlled manner of selling the product. Like film merchants world-

wide, the Japanese became adept at playing the market. Japanese films might not rake in

nuclr money at horne, but their appeal could be enhanced by prizes wolt at foreign film

festivals. EventuaIIv, Kitano Takeshi, Kurosawa Kiyoshi, Aoyama Shinji, Miike Takashi, and

many other younger directors were winning prestigious awards abroad which resulted in

larger sales (cassettes, discs, rentals, direct money from television showings) inJapan.

Fihn production methods at the beginning of the twenty-first century have in some ways

returned to those prevalent at the beginning of the twentieth: many srnall production compa-

nies, all more or less unaffiliated, all seeking to purvey sensation and novelty. The masterless

ronin is now the nearly anarchic yakuza and his postmod posturings are not far from the

kabuki-esque posings of Matsunosuke.

THE NEW INDEPENDENTS

Th. breakup of the studio system rreant more freedom for directors. Beginning in the

I 1980s there were a number of atternpts to attract those audiences which were not satis-

fied with corpo rate fare, those who still took film seriously, and also those who had the

greatest amount of disposable income in their pockets-the young.

Toho, having seen that investing in ATG had proved profitable, tied up for a time with

PIA publications to launch YES (Young Entertainment Square) which was to produce low-

budget fihns by young directors and distribute them in Toho theaters. Shochiku answered

with its CinemaJaponesqlle which had much the salne aims.

Both eventually foundered after each had released several pictures. The differences

betweett entrenched authorify and young filrlrnakers were too great. This way of financing

was completely different from the old studio system, which was all that the conpany bureau-

crats knew. Toho simply backed out. The Shochiku board preferred to ax its Cinema

Japorresqlre people-despite the fact that two of their films-lmamura Shohei's The Eel

and lclrikawaJurlsTokl,o Lullnbl, $okyo yalq'oku, 1997)-had won awards.

More successftrl were those independent companies that attempted to enter the field with-

out major film-industry partnership. fu'go Project, a consortium of independent producers

backed by Suntory, sought to break the monopoly on both production and theaten, and for a

tinre was able to attract a number of viewers. Software-maker Pony Canyon joined advertis-

ing agency Hakuhodo to make independent films; W0W0W, a major television satellite

station financed theJ-Movie-Wars series under Sento Takenori, and s0 0r'1.

Many of the resulting products have the youth market in mind and are often relentlessly

216

cool, modish, and filled with various special effects. They are, ahnost by definition, given to

dispersing what is new-techniques, styles, attitudes. Whatever its minority beginnings, the

"independent film" has thus becorne mainstream fare, Nevertheless, these independent

production units have often also been responsible for the best of recentJapanese cinema.

In the international breakdown of consolidated film production and distribution, the

proliferation of new production companies, and the emergence of a vafiety of distribution

circuits one senses something like the beginnings of filn all over again.Once more we have

a cinen a of views and scenes, of raw sensation and rudimentary nartative. The music video

is tlre new nickelodeon, the early Sinking of the Lr,rsitania (1918) becomes the late Titanic

(1997). In Jap an, Arnted Robber (1899) turns into the criminal confrontations in Miike

Takashi's Rainl, Dlg (Gokudo kuro shakai reini doggu, 1997). fuid, again, as a cetttury

before, we have the merchandizing of the self-proclaimed new.

While history is not necessarily cyclical, sirnilar stimuli sometimes produce sirnilar

results. The original "opening" of Japan to foreign media a century ago was indeed like that

even greater opening post-World War II, and this corresponds, agatn fifry years later, to the

buying sprees of the 1980s and the consolidation of purchases in the 1990s.

Tlre independents of today are displaying a new kind of Japanification. The divergence

between tradition aI and nontraditional is much less marked. Whether sornething is tradi-

tionallyJapanese or not is no longer a concern-no one can tell and n0 olte cares. Tradition

is not to be guarded. It is to be augmented as the riches of the rest of the world are assimi-

lated.

At the same time, the distance between styles has grown. 0n the one hand, the most

representational of means, the documentary and its new practitioners; on the other, the most

presentational, those directors heavily influenced by man ga and ntanga-like anime. Both

lrave been s0 far neglected in this account of the Japanese film but they-and their

irnplications-will be considered later. In truth, there are s0 nany crossovers in independent

production that n0 amount of generali zation can account for the varietv.

This said, oue must nevertheless remark Llpon the new importance of genre. To be sure, as

we have seen, genre films have been more conmon in Japan than itt many other countries.

There was the rnajor division between jidaigeki period film and gendaigeki contemporary

fihn; and there were nany subdivisions, the haha-mono, about mothers, the tsuma-mono,

about wives, the yaku za frlnt, and so on. This genre menu has now widened and though

there are still many films which defy genre, a new rnajority readily succumbs.

There are a number of reasons for this. Audiences like to know the kind of film they are

217

going to see before they see it. Most people want to know the perimeters of their entertain-

ment. This is particularly true in Japan. Also, category worls as a kind of brand uame. If one

film diverts then ma$e the next one from the same geurc will too.

Also genre is as reassuritlg as it is entertaining. As Martin Scorsese has observed: "For

better 0r worse, story as entertainment is saddled with conventions and stereotypes, formulas

and cliches. Nl of these limitations are codified into specific genres."

For film producers, genre is product with its own shape, its own mold. Each genre prod-

nct costs about the sarne, and directors are expected to confine thenselves to its specifica-

tions. futd for those directors who do not wish to conform to this rigid pattern theLe is the

clrallenge of enlarging or subverting it at little extra cost.

funong the rnost successftrl of recent genres has been the horror film. Though the genre

is not new in Ja;san, its popularity has been hitherto among children-fihns about ghosts,

monsters, or such local products as giant felines and footless phantorns. It is only recently

that major audiences have made such fare profitable.

Perlraps the first horror film to make big money was The M1,stery of Rampo (Ratttpo,

1994). It was released by its production compally in two competing versions, one by its direc-

tor, Mayuzumi Rintaro, the other by its producer OkuyantaKazuyoshi. Much of the publicity

which surrolutded the films, and perhaps accounted for the financial slrccess of OkuyamA's

fihn, was due to the falling out between director and producer which occasioned the two

versions. Both, however, were based 0n a story by EdogawaRampo, alocal master of the horror

story who even took the name of a famous predecessor, Edgar Allan Poe. This literaq, touch

argued for a kind of respectabiliry. Imitations followed and a genre was revitalized.

With a sirnilar revival of interest in horror in the United States (evidenced by the popular-

ity of Stephen King fihns, for example),Japanese companies jurnped aboard the bandwagon

and tlre Japan-gothic genre began to appear. funong the first films in this genre was Ishii

Sogo's prescientAngel Dust (Enjeru dasuto, 1994). A new religion convert is supposed to be

deprogrammed but is instead turned into a serial killer-all this a year before the serial

attacls of the followers of the Aum shinrikyo cult. There is also a meltacing Mount Fuji, and

mass mind control.

Perlraps the most famous of the resulting nouvelle horror flicks was Ring (Ringu, 1998,

Nakata Hideo), followed by Ring 2 (Ringu 2, I99D by the sane director, both based 0n a

novel by Suzuki Koji and \aler treated to anfunerican remake. funong others who also later

sold their scripts to Hollywood was Shimizu Takashi whose The Grud,qe (Ju-011, 2000) w6,

said the ads, about that popular horror staple "the cuffie of one who dies in a powerful rage."

The director who gave the genre whatever creditability it has achieved was Kurosawa

Kiyoslri (no relation to Akira). A protdg6, of Itami Juzo, he had a small role in Itani's Tbe

Funeral (0soshiki, 1984), ard Itami himself played the monster in the yourlger director's

218

Su'eet Honte (Suito hornn, 1989). F-rom there Kurosawa opened up the geltre-fewer

rnorrsters aud llore social criticism . Ctn'e (Kyua, 1997) is about a young ntalt cumed with

socially corlscious evil power. Burren lllusiort (0inaru gett'ei, I99D is set in the au{ul

future. The director called it a film "abollt two people who are trying to live between eternal

love and the horror that is modern [ife."

Equally allegorical in intent, and just as rnuch about the horrors of modern life, is

Chnnsrna (Karisulla, 1999)-a large, mysterious, and eponynous tree is killing an entire

forest: is the individual then more than irnportant than society? ht lttiro (2001), the dead

corne out of contputers to attack the living; in Bright Future (Akarui mirai, 2003) the threat

is poison jellyfish, and yet another kind of doonr is the coruing of the clortes in

D opp el gc ir t ger (Dopperu gen ga, 2003)

0r perhaps the clones are already here. One of the indicatious is the rtew activily of the

generic film. Spectators g0 clone-

like to see the same thing at the

same time; they all seern to have

the same opinions of these popu-

lar eutertainurents. A favorite is

Tsukamoto Shinya who has made

such youtlr-cult pictures rc Tetsu,o;

Tbe h'ort rtlcm (Tetsuo, 1989) and

Tetstto II: Bodl, Hurnmer (1992).

Here, flesh and fabrication are

united in the cyborg hero and the

poundirrg pace is both welcorne aud farliliar to those who have long watched television.

Tsukamoto received rnost of his media training in connercials, and made promotiort

videos before turning to film. Later pictures find him more conventional. There is only oue

nreclranical-serpent torture device in A Snake oJ' Jurte (Rokugatsu no hebi, 2002) . Vital

(Vitaru, 2004) finds him preoccllpied with rnere scalpels.

Sensational violeuce, injury, varyingly horrid forms of death-such things have long rlade

up nuch of popular cinema. Perhaps a contemporary difference is the reputabiliry fiat such

excess has achieved. Rape, torture, mnrder are there to be viewed in a manner not only non-

judgrnental, but detached. It is cool to do so.

Since this qualiry-being cool-has corne to play such a leading role in contemporary

Japanese fihn (as well as in modern Japanese life) one might examine it. First, to be cool, or

Vital,7004, Tsukamoto Shinya, with (right) Asano Tadanobu

219

hip, or whatever word is used, is to exhibit a sffle that defies the mainstream, whatever that

may be at the time. The young wish to believe that they are "with it" and are hence nore

empowered than they actually are. Dissent becomes a means. Most young persons, however,

will settle for something less time-consuming than real counterculture alienation. They are

satisfied with adopting a look, a style, an attitude. To be cool neatls to have lots of attitude.

This phenomenou is by n0 neans restricted to Japan and is, at anv rate, not new to it.

Back in the repressive Edo period, to be hip was to show some iki, to be square was to be

1,Abo, and no orle wanted to be that. Extrerne stage fashions (and rrorals) were imitated, the

"prostitute look" was in, and Edo had its own distinctive trendy take which we can see in

snch chroniclers as Hokusai and Utanaro.

Again, in the Taisho period, the popular ero-gLuo-nanserlsu genre (combining erotic,

grotesque and farcical elements) was in its own manner antiestablishment and, as we have

seen, its expression of dissidence ran against the grain of increasingly repressive government.

To extol violence was perhaps too anarchic-though many a sarnurai film of the period did

just that. To clairn nansensu, however, was to suggest that it was mainstream culture which

was the more nonsensical. The attitude itself was also discovered to be a rnarketable item.

Nansensu stories and novels became nansensu rnovies, and ero-gLuo could be translated into

smart outfits (cloche hats, bobbed lrair, plus-fours for the men) and marketed accordingly.

Cool is nonverbal. It does not explain itself, nor can it. Hence its means of comrnunica-

tion are purposely lirnited. In this it resembles manga coustruction, a storyboard-like assem-

blage of discrete boxes, each containing its grain of inforrnation, affording nothing further

than chronology as linkage. There is little explanation, much is assumed, and the reader 0r

viewer is encouraged to do n0 nore than register each event. His or her emotions are beside

the point, since to be with it is to be out of it. This is cool-or, in Japanese parlance, not the

despised uetlo (wet), but its desired opposite, clorcti (dry).

This uninvolved and uninvolving dryness which the rnanga 0r anime format famously

affords probably accounts for much of its populariry in both printed and filmed fom. A

nrajorily of new non-anime (live-action) filrns are now constructed like nt nga, since this is

the only narrative fonn that most young people krow. Bite-sized boxes means that one need

not feel, aud rarely even think, since the chronology is self-propelling. It is fast, it is familiar,

and it affords asaf,eway to view dangerous life.

Violence, institntionalized, is thus a cool item, whether pun/eyed by Quentin Tarantino,

Kitano Takeshi or Miike Takashi. The viewer is uninvolved, that is, untouched. Conse-

quently, it is danger that these safely insulated manganarratives revolve around.

The films of Kitano "Beat" TAkeshi, a televisiorl personaliry who is uow sornething of a

social force, niay be seen as an illustration of this fondness for danger at a distance. Origi-

nally a standup comedian, Kitano made his film debut as an actor-he was the brutal

220

sergeant who says "Merry Christrnas, Mr. Lawrence," at the conclusion of Oshirna's film,

thus giving the picture its title.

Oslrima gave the role to Kitano,arcIative unknown, because he had seen him playing a

psyclrotic killer rt ^

1983 television serial The Crimes of )ku,bo Kiyoshi (Okubo Kiyoshi no

hanzai). Kitano later said that the reason he accepted was that 0shirna's earlier fihns were

just about the onlyJapanese cinema he had seen, and that he admired the director's treat-

ment of casual violence. He agreed to appear not only in X[err1, ChristmAs, Mr. Lawrence

but also in the director's later Gohatto.

Kitano's expertise in violence led to his being offered the lead inViolent Cop (Sono otoko

lcyobo ni tsuki, 1989), a picture scheduled to be directed by Fukasaku Kinji, master of the

yakuza genre. Fukasaku became ill, however, and the project was postponed. After some

tlrought, and perhaps sorne fear that hiring a lesser director might mean losing a prornising

actor,producer OkuyarnaKazuyoshi asked Kitano to also direct.

The actor-director has said that, though he was perhaps influenced by such films as

Fukasaku Kinj i's Battles Without Honor or Humanitlt series, he knew that there w?s n0

way for asingle yakuza (like Takakura Ken) to take on a rival gang with a wooden sword (as

in the ninkyo-eiga), Aestheticized violence has no interest for hirn. He believes violence

should be used for entertaining dramatic pllrposes-the jitsuroku-eiga ideal.

Consequently Kitano reworked the plot of his debut fihn. Now it was about a cop who has

reason to be violent. Not only was he up against really deprave d yakuza, he was also locked

in conflict with the truly corrupt officers in his own department. At the same time he recast

tlre script. As Robert Schwartzhu described il "He insisted olt a static c rnera that stood

stoic, like Takeshi hirnself and many of the characters he would play . . . an unmoving

can'rcrawould capture quiet, pensive stretches that serued to build tension and the eye would

be equally unblinking to the ruthless and relentless violence."t

Having played a cop too violent for his department, he next played-in Boiling Point

(San tai yon ekkusu jugatsu, 1990)-a gangster too ftuious for his gang. These roles would

be alternated throughout his career. InSonntine (Sonachine, 1993), the last of the old-time

gangsters (Kitano) is sent 0n a hit rnission to 0kinawa. At the end, the expressionless galtg-

ster machine-guns the opposition, rrot afacial rluscle moving. Such scenes str-rd the oeuvre.

As the director commented at the tine. "Really tough gllys don't experien ce alot of tension-

by nature they're cool."

Tlre finale of Hana-bi (akaFireworks, 1997) is a revenge sceue almostJacobiarr in its

blood-bath excess, but, Iike Sonatirte, singularly detached, and therefore cool. But coohtess

can also generate a kind of rnanga-like sentimentality. In Hann-bi the two cop buddies

share a deep affection. One (0sugi Ren) is paralyzed in a shootout when the other (Kitano)

ouglrt to have been there but was actually visiting his wife in hospital. Osugi finds peace iu

Hanabi,1997, Kitano Takeshi, with Kishimoto Kayoko, Kitano Takeshi

leaming to paint (the pictures are by Kitano himself who, like 0zu, Kurosawa, Ichikawa and

many others, is a part-time painter) but Kitano, filled with a farniliar macl'r0-r0rrAnticism,

hirnself discovers tranquility only in "delivering" his ailing wife and then himself as well,

while the camera turns and looks elsewhere-a gesture made popular by Resert,lit'Dogs

(1992). Good buddies though they were, we are invited to remain uninvolved.

The film also offers sone indication as to how Kitano obtains his effects. In the scLipt,

Osugi Ren was supposed to die iu one of the earlv scenes but Kitano s0 liked his perfonTtance

that he kept him in the film until the end, and indeed rnade his character one of the points

of the plot. When Kitano doesn't like something, however, he is famous for rarely reshooting

the offending scene. Usually he cuts it out entirely.

This way of makiug a film certainly does not argue for the necessity of a shooting script.

In a way, we are back in the days before Makino Shozo thought the better of carrying around

a single sheet of paper and shouting his instructions to the waiting actors. Kitano's static

cAmera, and his oue-shot-one-scene sfyle of narration ruay owe more to nranga than to

Mizoguchi but it has resulted in a highly viewable product, where simple contrast rules.

There is good (no matter how bad it looks) against bad (no rratter how good it looks) and

there is the violent contrast between static scenes and scenes madly mayhem-filled.

fui example would be Brother (2000), shot in Los fuigeles, about an ex-yakuza boss who

visits the united States to help ^

gangbrother lay out the locals. Nl of the stylistic elements

are in place: simmering silence, carefully timed bursts of trademark violence, an insistence

upon gangster chic (costumes by designer Yamarnoto Yoji) aud a hero (played by Kitano) who

is so explosive that he is too cornbustible for the gang. There is also (as is cornmon in Kitano's

films) rlinimal acting by the director and over-the-top rrelodramatics by everyone else.

Tlris formula never sold better than in Zatoichi (200r, Kitano's remake of Misumi

Kenji's 1952hit Zatoiclti: Tlte Life ancl )pinions of tulrtsseLtr lchi (Zatoichi rnonogatari).

Kitano hirnself plays the blind swordsnan with a slow and thoughtful dignity, a true artisan,

222

dedicated to his craft of cutting and slicing-always reluctant to begin the mayhen but

always determined to see it through. Against his somber and restrained rendering 0f the title

charucter is the frenzied behavior of the rest of the cast-leading up to the famous all-

singing, all tap-dancing finale.

Kitano's influence 0n other filrnmakers is considerable, since it was he who rnade manga-

like violent spectacle respectable. Ishii Sogo had been experimenting with cartoon-like

violence in High School Panic (Koko dai panikku, 1978) and The Craz1, Fantill,(Gyakufunsha kazoku, 1984), but it was not until Angel Dust, the year after Kitano's

Sonatine appeared, that he perfected the opposition of movement and stillness, of "good-

ness" and "badness" which is typical of these manga-influenced films. The action is stop-

and-go, posed tableaux-vivants and hyperactive violence.

Ishii Takashi (no relation to Ishii Sogo) was himself a ntanga artist before entering

films. He consequently knew the technique even before he stepped behind the c rne"a His

debut film, Tbe Gu,ts of an Angel (Tenshi no harawata, I)88) was a success, and he followed

it witlr lVight in lVude (Nudo n0 yorlr ,199il and his best-known films, Gonin (1995) and

Gonirt 2 (1996).

Tlre misadventures of five members @onin) of a gang involved with another yakuza

group makes up the Resentoir Dogs-like story of this fihn. Cut like a music video, noir

details piled up, sensation is achieved in every shot. Design happy, each frarne is distin-

guislred by its lighting, its colorizatton, its composition, by zooms and fast or slow notion.

fui apogee in presentational technique is reached in the many fihns of the intensely

prolific Miike Takashi, fonnerly an assistant to both Higashi Yoichi and Imalnura Shohei. A

typical example is Deucl or Alfu,e (Deddo oa araibu: Itanzaisha, 199D, which opens with a

drug-induced Ieap off a rooftop, goes on to the buggery of a gang punk in a toilet, the

explosion of the shot-up (if digitalized) stomach of a gangster just after he has eaten a lot of

Chinese noodles, and a close-up 0f a call-girl drowned in her own excrement-all of it shot

with a neruolls camera, lots of flashpans, and other lrandheld gymnastics.

Audition (Odishon, 2000) is about a middle-aged widower looking for love but encounter-

itrg uumitigated evil in the form of his intended bride-or is it all a dream? Based on a

Murakami Ryu novel, and scripted by Tengan Daisuke (son of Imamura Shohei), the fihn is,

like most of Miike's pictures, rnisogynist to a degree. Like the rest, it is also expertly tailored

and delivers the advertised goods with a dead-faced indifference which rneets all the demands

of contemporary cool. Since these fihns are built like nTang they are hence several tirnes

removed from feeling.

223

Tlrere is some Kitano influence in all the super conmotion. There is however, n0 balanc-

ing stasis, and certainly n0 idea that violence should only fonvard drarnatic cornplications.

Rather, since nothing in a Miike film is believable, nor intended to be, we are invited to

regard it as spectacle, a kind of anime with real folls. Indeed, w€ areback in the world of

pure flash-the realm of Ito Daisuke at his most frenetic, of TanakaTsuruhiko and the

swislr-pan samurai actionof the early thirties. The resemblance is particularly noticeable in

Izo (2004), which begins as a sword-swinging chambara. Not that Miike has ever seen ^ny-

thing by these directors. Rather, this kind of calculated embroidery is part of an original

Japanese accent-and influenced too, of course, by lots of permissive examples from the

United States.

fuiother reason for the form and content of the Miike film is the intended venue. He has

made many more OVs ("original videos") for the video shops and the srnall screen than he

has made feature fihns for the theater chains. Made on the cheap, using new talent and

young directors, such OVs fill many a shop shelf. Miike's work represents a lucrative cone-

back for the nearly moribundyakuza film, a genre which has more or less had its day in the

theaters but still appeals to youthful tube -gazers and to those who find all the laid-back

excess cool.

fuirong others pushing this quality is Aoyana Shinji, who played ablack-shirted fascist in

Kurosawa Kiyoshi's Barren lllusiln, and who well reflects the kind of world yourrg people

think they live in. As Aaron Gerow wrote, "it is comnonplace [for such yoLurg directors] to

noLrrn the inability 0f contemp orury youth to communicate. Lost in their virtual realities of

video garnes and cellular phones they seem unable to handle people of flesh and blood-other than perhaps through random violence. It is as if they cannot establish contact because

they don't even acknowledge the existence of their conversation partner." ('

Such autism is typical of the young hero of Aoyama's debut filrn, Helpless (1996), a self-

scripted melodrama which the director said was inspired by the work of fu'thur Rirnbau d, a

poet often identified as the original rebel.

While this is not othenvise evident in the film

(a buddy-movie about a yolurg gangster just

out of jail taking up with a rebellious class-

rnate), both of the principals seem to find

nturder a satisfying fashion statement.

The even nore violent lvild Ltfe (Wairudo

raifu, 1997), agatr't ayaktrzapicture, is at the

same time cooler. A pachinko pinball "fixer"

224

Helpless, 1 996, Aoyama Shinji

lras his easy life enlivened by even nore lawless invaders. As in the fihns of Quentin Taran-

tino, which Aoyama, along with a number of yolurg directors admires, the one-cut one-scene

method is fihned with lots of violent action within the frame, nanga-like, and when things

beconre too awful the can)eralools away. Technique becomes decoration, violence is a kind

of stylistic crocheting, aveneruble Japanese tradition. One remembers Tanaka Tsuruhiko's

The Red Bat (1931), a fihn made sixty-six years before but little different fron Aoyama's in

its dependence on flash , dazzle, and gore. fuiother resemblance to the crowd-pleasers of the

tlrirties is that in Aoyama's picture action is all, and chancterrzation is kept to a minimum,

tlre better to display it.

Tlre couple in Shadj, Groue (Sheidi gurobu, I99D are s0 chancterless that they seem

barely to larow each other. In Eureka (Yuriika, 2000) the young people, one of whom is a

serial killer, cannot conlnunicate-and this, indeed, constitutes the plot of this nearly four-

lrour fihn. Still, victims of. a bus-jacking, they make the most of it, victimization being in

fashion arnong the young. In EM-Embalming (li ernu embamingu, I99il everyone is

even more alienated. One critic said that "even the bang-bang scenes feel deadened. Blasting

away at one another, both the good guys and the bad guys stand straight and expressionless

as slrooting gallery taryets-a steal from Kitano Takeshi's Sonati?te." In Lakeside Murder

Case (Reikusaido mahda keisu, 2005), the alienation is extended to the murder-mystery

genre and most of the suspects.

Equal justification for antisocial ways is found in the films of Iwai Shunji, a music-video

director who made his first picture in 1995 . Loue Letter is about a young woman who writes

a letter to a dead lover and gets a reply. Its television-like romanticism and music-video-like

editing drew a large audience and provided the director with funds to make Swallowtnil

(Suwaroteiru, 1996), a manga-inspired vision of the future set in Yen City, a junk-chic place

owing much to Ridley Scott's Blade Runner (1982).

Iwai hirnself has said that his young audience larows nothing of Ozu or Mizoguchi nor

anything of the society they portrayed in their films. Consequently, he concludes, "we have t0

make movies thatappeal fto younger movie-goers] and reflect the world they live in." 7 One

result is that the filmmaker becomes a "visual artist" (eizo sakka) who makes no distinction

between the forms of film, television and music video, and whose "message" is the stylish

nilrilism which has remained a favored youth-oriented mannerism since the early days of

expressionism in Japanese cinema.

t,

-T-"t,

-'{--l

225

Tlrere are other takes on crime as ayouth specialty, however. Isaka Satoshi, a forrner assis-

tant of Higashi Yoichi, had something new to say about the crimes of the young in his first

filrn, Focus (Fokasu , 1996), which he both wrote (with Shin Kazuo) and directed, and in

which he revealed the manipulativeness of the Japanese media. A television director deliber-

ately exploits a young and solitaryr computer uerd (Asauo Tadauobu) who lives his life onlv

through his electronic eavesdropping devices. Eventualll'the nerd hijacks the television-

exploitation feature they are making and gives the director a true adventnre. The fihn is

taken entirely from the viewpoint of the television photographer-one cut, one scene (actu-

ally the work of cameranlan Sano Tetsuro) and looks like a documentan', but one which

eventually includes us, the audience, as its target. It was produced by Hara Masato, one of

Japan's most innovative prodLlcers-who also helped make both X[err1, Christmas, ltr.Larurutce ard Ran.

Isaka, in his later works, went on to further explore the themes he introduced in

Focus. Doubles (Daburusu, 2001) was about the collision between how the young want to

be seen and how they really are, and G@nte (2003) shows a yolurg couple ernbroiled in

identity pranls with the grown-Llp world-pointing to new aud interesting directions in

genre filrls.

This pandering to youth, anarchy and the box office is not, however, the only way to make a

film. Another is to drop hard-core cool and attempt to show something of the realiff of being

yourlg in a disciplinary society. One such possibility was early indicated by the late Somai

Shinii. He first came to attention with Tl,phoort Club

(Taifu kurabu, 1985), directed after aKato Yuji script,

about a grollp of high-school juniors and the four

days they spend together at their country school wait-

ing out a storm. The teenagers are shown as they

really are, not as "youth" pictllres would have thern.

In the grip of their glands, they are rnoody, contradic-

tory, either at the heights of enthusiasm 0r in the

depths of despair. The title--certainly an echo from

Tlrornas Kurihara's long lost "youth" cornedy Amcttetn" Club-insists upon nnity, but

everything we are given shows only dissent: an older girl nearly drowns a yolurg boy, another

yotrth is carrie d away by his budding sexuality, and yet another lectLlres his friends on the

purposelessness of their lives and then kills hirnself.

Somai is not interested in solving educational problems-he wants to reveal how diffi-

Typhoon C\ub,1985, Somai Shinji

226

cult it is to understand adolescents, and to show what they go through. In this he is notably

successful. As Sato Tadao lras said: "Somai is able to capture this precarious psychological

state of early adolescence in which jovialify and morbidiry became hard to distinguish." I

Sornai uses long takes, usually with the actors far from the camera. The climactic dance

scene in the eye of the typhoon is taken

from very far away and is held for a long

time. Oue remembers sinilar sceues fronr

early Japanese cinema-the fihns of

Murata Minoru, or Tanaka Eizo.

This long shot as a techniqr-re to isolate

and to locate the character in his or her

world is also memorably demonstrated in

tlre coda of Somai's blouittg (0hikkoshi,

199r. A little girl (Tabata Tomoko) wan-

ders through the remains of the festival after every/one has left-the caluera following, keep-

ing its distauce, isolating her, distant againSt the last of the festivities. Actor and narrative are

fused through atmosphere, and sornething which we have all experienced-the end of

childhood-is su ggested.

To show things as they are is to show them as Japanese. Real Japanese lif'e is not about

guns and dope,yakuzaandcrooked cops, car chases and lovingly crafted explosions. Thns to

reflect soruetlting of an actual reality is to retnrn, even if inadvertently, to something

Japanese.

Other young directors are also moving in different directions. One exarnple is Nakahara

Shutt, who started 0n the dissident edge by working in the soft-core pom industry at

Nikkatsu, an experieuce which taught him much. "P0m0 is very simple, easy to understand.

But people aren't animals, so you start to think about their feelings, to look deeper into

human behavior. Porno is the best way to learu how to rnake films about human beings."'t

Nakahara'sThe Cherrl, )rchurd (Sakura n0 sono, 1990), after a script byJinno Hiroaki

loosely based 0n a manga by Yoshida Akio, is about four members of a girls' high-school

dranaclub and their annual production and performance of the epouymous Chekhov play.

In the two hours before the curtain goes up (fihn tine and actual tirne being the sarne) we

obserue the relationships which hold the girls together, the forces which will dLive thern

aysafi, and come to understand the characters much more deeply than is comrnon in a

youth-oriented Japanese film.

Moving,1993, Somai Shinji, with Tabata Tomoko (left)

227

(--rc-

The Cherry )rchard,'1990, Nakahara Shun, with Nakajima Hiroko,

Tsumiki Miho

Nakahara acknowledges a general lack of character depth in Japanese films zurd attrib-

utes it to the fuuerican influence: 'Japanese movies have lost the kind of feeling that [ear-

lieL] directors had . . . Japanese directors stopped being Japanese, [thev] wanted to be like

fuuericans. Thev threw awa\/ their own dranta and went off to Hollrnvood." Now, he feels,

"we're relaxed euough that we can again renrember the past. We clon't have to go to Hollv-

wood anvnrors."r0 fur exanrple of this return is his The Gertile ftrelt'e (Juninin rro vasashii

nihonjin, 1991) an expert conredv about how a Westenr concept, in this czue the jury svstenr,

rnight work in Japan (where there are n0 juries, oulv iudges) and how a very 'Japauese"

ztcconnrodation would be finallv worked out.

Auotlter director to show sonrethiug nlore than the cool edge is Suo Masavuki, best knowrr

abroad for Sbull Wa Dutce? (Shttru ui dansu, 1995), the fihn which becanre the nrost popu-

larJapanese fihn abroad since Kuroszrwa Nrira's Rusbontln. A charnring conredv about the

dail,v grind of a salaried mrur (\'akusho Koji) and his dreanrs and hopes, it resonated with

voung audiences both in Japan and abroad. Suo is also adrnired in Japan foL his absurd and

lovirrg parodies of Ozu. The first, a sofi-core ponr filnr, is a pink renrake of Lute Sprnry called

ht AhtlrrttAl Fantil.l': ll.),Brother's Wlb (Hentai kazoku: Aniki n0 \/onlesau, 1983). The

second was a television dranra series segnrent, A Bttshtessmrtn's Scltoolroom (Sararintan

kvoshitsu, 1985). Both use the celebrated Ozu method for ends which the older director

would not perhaps have envisioned but might well have approved.

Mochizuki Rokuro, who also learned his craft nraking soft-core ponr, created his first

critical hit with Sikinless ltiigbl (Sukirtresu naito, 1991), about the dilentmas eltcoLuttered b1'

those working in the rtrarginalized business of makiug ponr. This theme of social exclusion

wru further explored in The Ftre Witltin (0nibi ,l9L)7) and Ktrnuchi (2003), the latter a

vouth-film about a pop painter and poet who died ,voultg.

228

Nagasaki Shun'ichi's major theme is also the sociallyexcluded, as seen inThe Enchant-

ment (Yuwakusha, 1989), a feminist statement with teeth in it. In The Driue (Saigo no

doraibu, 1992) a woman (Muroi Shigeru) murders a girl and implicates her lover (Tarnaki Koji)

In Some Kinda Loue (Romansu, 1996) a flaky young woman (Mizushima Kaori) has an

unwelcome effect on her friends-one of whom is played by Tsukamoto Shinya.

A fine portrait of the teenager grown older but still cherishing her revolt was given by

Fujiyama Naomi in SakamotoJunji's The Face (Kao, 2000). Now fatandfrumpy, she resents

her popular, pretty sister, and kills her. 0n the run she begins to find a new life. This discov-

ery (orcreation) of self is a theme nowseen more frequently,particularly in such sakamoto

filnrs as Boxu Joe (1995) and the explosive (nockout (Dotsuitarunen, 1989).

The real problems of real young people is a dominant theme among yolurg directors as

tlrey move further from cool genre and into particular ruther than general statements. Yuki-

sada Isao inGo (2001) shows what it is like to be of Korean ancestry in an all 'Japanese"

high school. ln Poisonlus Insects (Gaichu , 2002) Shiota Akihito gives us a seventh- grade

girl who is ostracized at school but finds freedorn on the street. ht Canary, (Kanana,,2004), a

young boy runs away from a religious cult. That freedom can be dangerous is indicated in

Ishioka Masato's documentary-like Scoutman (aka Pain, 2000), which is about ateenage

couple who fall straight to the bottom-he into pimpdom, she into the awful world of

"compensated companionship." A painful rebellion which succeeds is found in Furumaya

Tomoyuki's Bad Companl, (Mabudachi,2001) where a high-school boy and his friends

turn against their tyrannicalteacher's idea of what "area| hunan being" should be. They

reflect, then rebel, and make a real moral choice for themselves.

Anong these independent directors who refuse genre and try to make sone sense of society,

tlre best known is the late ItamiJuzo. Son of the director Itami Mansaku, who died when

Jtrzo was twelve, he was originally well known as anessayist and an actor before becoming a

director.

Itami sometimes said that his therne was "what it means to beJapanesel' asubject upon

wlrich he elaborated to Vincent Canby: "Americans, because of their ethnic, economic and

educational differeuces, share far less in the way of comrnon experience than do the Japa-

nese. Living inJapan is like living in anation of twins."rr This presupposes more similarity

tlran difference and supports a perceived need for atradition to guide.

Yet, despite or because of his interest in what it means to be aJapanese, Itami also main-

tained that he was strongly influenced by American movies, saying that he learned how to

construct stories and develop characters by studying American fihns. Like many before

I

229

ilX?f-Tffl,J,111 rffil;',:"' with (rear) Susai Kin' Mivamoto

him-Ozu leading the way-his goal was to connect the new means to the old ways.

In The Ftmernl he satirizes the Japanese for forgetting their traditions: they no longer

kttow the proper way to hold a funeral. The characters even have difficulty sitting in

traditional sffle, feet tucked under them. Yet the way in which this is shown is learned frorn

tlre West, The funeral-instruction tape is viewed as a film within a filrn in the lnallter of the

)ttr,Gmzplike home-nrovie scene in Ozu's I utcts Blrn, Bttt. fuiother parallel is the

long revealing dolly-a technique used on several occasions in the Ozu filrn and, before

that, in the filrns of Rend Clair-which reveals the ftureral guests having trouble sitting in

tlre required formal position. The final scene, the widow's fonnal speech, is filmed u a

lengthy single shot. The camera moves slowly fonvard into close-up , away of filming-seen

at the end of many a Hollywood womeu's filrn, seen also in the final shot of Mizoguchi's

Sistu's of the Gion-which might be defined as traditional.

To be slue, influences exist 0n a sliding scale. No rnatter how novel at first appearance,

eventually, everything becomes traditional. What we identify as once derived frorn Ernst

Lubitsch is no longer that-it has become a paft of the Japanese tradition. As I write, other

ittfluences (let us say those of QuentinTarantino) are akeady being subsumed intoJapanese

corrtemp orary film and will shortly become "traditional" as well.

In the expertly carpentercd fihrs of Itarni, the demands of tradition and of rnodernity are

nreslred in a highly structured narrative. In the two-part .4 Taxing Woman (Marusa no

onna, 1937-88), and in later pictures, the director claimed to be creating essays. He called

Su,perrnarket Woman (Supa n0 onna,1996) a lesson on how to make a success of a poorly

rutr store; and fulinbo or the Gmtle Art of Japanese Extortiort (Mimbo n0 ouna,I))Z), "a

kind of essay ou how to stand up to theJapanese mob."

,{s for Tampopo (1985), it wffi, said the director, a sociological essay based 0n a West-

ern-Howard Hawks' Rio Brauo (1959). The film wasn't really about Japan at all. Indeed,

the film was much nore popular in the United States than it was in its home country.

230

Itami, though a true independent in

that he himself financed lris first film,

The F urrcrul-rnortgaging everything

he owred iu order to do so-soon

established distribution then production

ties with Toho. Before loug, efforts were

being made t0 "improve" the purchased

product, to turn it into something like

formula fztre, all "ltami production."

funong the subsequeut failures (both

commercial and artistic) was.4 Quiet Lfe (Shizukana seikatsu, 1995), based on the life and

works of his brother-in-law 0e Kenzaburo. Concerned producers becarne even nore inter-

ested iu "fixing" the Itami product and among the marlv reasons put fonvard for Itarni's

urrexplained suicide in December f997 was the suggestion that he felt he had lost the impe-

tus uecessary to carry on rnaking his films. 0n the other hand, 0e-in his 2000 novelizatiorr

of tlre event, The Chnngeling (Torikaeko)-suggests that the director's death was related to

his lraving stood up to the mob and other rightist, nationalistic organizatiotts.

MoritaYoshirnitsu'sverypopular The Fantil1,5t,,rre (Kazoku getnu, 1983), apicturewhich

won the KinemaJumpo prize for that year, and one which starred his mentor, Itami in the

role of the feckless father, shows how satire cau be used to express criticism. In it, a tutor

lriLed to iustru ct abackward boy takes over the farnily and teaches them a lesson in modern

living. The film proved one of the most influential of its decade.

The Family Game, 1983, Morita Yoshimitsu, the "last supper," with Yuki Saori, ltamiJuzo, Matsuda Yusaku, Tsujita Jun'ichi, Miyagawa lchirota

Tampopo,19B5, ltami Juzo, with Watanabe Ken, Miyamoto

Nobuko, Yamazaki Tsutomu

2.1I

Sato Tadao said that Tlte Famill, Garne "wreaks vengeance on t]r'rc Japanese home-

dranta tradition." He goes on to compare the Ozu family with the Morita family. Just as Ozn

often seated his farnily members facing the same direction, thus giving unity to their feel-

ittgs, so Morita in the final farnily meal, lines up the father, mother, two brothers and the

family tutor. But the composition no longer means accord and, indeed, this last supper turns

into a food fight. "Morita makes use of the Ozu style to indicate how the Japanese family of

today, with its weakened bonds of kinship, is different frorn the Japanese family Ozu

described. " rl

It was not until fifteen years later that Morita had another corrparable hit, with a picture

that was neither satirical nor particularly contemp orary. Lost Parndise (Shitsurakuen,

1997), wffi based 0n a besrselling novel and alater television series-an exarnple of movie-

TV "synergy." If The Famill,GArne could be said to deconstruct 0zu, Lost Paradise reanr-

nrated Mizoguchi Kenji. One critic has said: "Though love suicide (shinju) has been a

favorite device of Japanese drama dating back to Chikamatsu and beyond, its use lin the

Morita film] struck many Japanese moviegoers, especially those of the sarne generation as

the film's couple, as excitingly romantic rather thau regrettably retrograde." Since then,

however, the demands of television have been paramount, resulting in a kind of apogee with

Lik,e Asura (Ashura no gotoku, 2003), a film adaptation of a popular daytiLne televisiorr

serial.

A director who continues to use satire as a

0shirra's In the Recthn of the Senses, and an

tool is Sai Yoichi, an assistant director 0n

actor in the same director's Gohatto. Sai first

All Under the M00n, 1993, Sai Yoichi, with Kishitani

Goro, Ruby Moreno

gained critical attention as adirector with

All Urtcler the X[oort (Tsuki wa dotchi ni

dete iru, 1993).

Sai, a second-generation Korean, is one

of the few directors to concem himself

with the rnany rninorities in Japan. hr

All Urtcler the t[oon, Chung (Kishitani

Goro), is a Tokyo taxi driver. Although

he was born in Japan, the fact that his

parents were born in Korea makes their

fanrily a target of. Japanese prejudice. "l

hate Koreans," one of the other drivers tells Chung. "They're dirty, they stink and tltey're

stingy. But you're all right. I like yoll. Lend me some rnoney."

2.32

Though stigmatized, Chung gets along. He puts up with the prejudice and has a whole

stock of stories about how bad it rnakes him feel. These he uses for picking up impression-

able young Japanese women. But it is a Filipina (Ruby Moreno) he falls for. His colleagues

are puzzled and ask "Why would you want to go out with such a dark-skinned person?" His

nrotlrer displays reverse racism with: "l absolutely forbid you to marry any except our own

folk." But Chung chugs on, a happy loner who has learned not to expect too much-a rnore

socially integrated Tora-san. He knows thatprejudice makes prejudice andthatvictims make

victims, but all the sane he longs for some happiness hirnself.

Sai's people are loners but they are fffely losers-usually they find away to fit in and

learn how to live under the most extreme conditions. Examples of such resilience are the

convicts in Doing Time (Keimusho no naka,2002). A mixed lot, they are distinguished by

their ability to go along with the authorities and to make sense of the meaningless rules

under which they live. The resulting comedy is a satire which cuts two ways. The rigid prison

systern is exposed, but s0 are the craven ways of the prisoners. Seen as allegory, something

which the director perhaps intended, it is an indictment of a double-edged hypocrisy, but-as anelderly internee (Yamazaki Tsutornu) discovers-adve$ity also teaches.

Sai's rnajor minority statement is in Blood and Bones (Chi to lrone , 2004), a nearly

tlrree-hour saga about a first generation Korean family in an unfriendly Japarr. The for-

tunes of the brutal head of the household (Kitano Takeshi) are followed from his arriv al to

his lonely death in North Korea. Filled with violence, the film does not attempt to take

sides-it merely shows the awfulness of both. What emerges is an adniration for sheer

endurance.

fuiotlrer director using comedy and satire is Obayashi Nobuhiko. Beijing Watermelon

(Peikin no suika, 1989) is about aJapanese greengrocer who befriends a group 0f Chinese

students. It was shot without a con-

pleted script and the dialogue was

supplied by the actors 0r amateurs

playing the roles. Often the camera

simply stands and watches for almost

all of its ten-minute load, while the

frame is varied by all the entertain-

ing comings and goings of the cast.

When the story dernands that the

grocer and his wife go to Peking at Beijing Watermelon, 1989, 0bayashi Nobuhiko

233

the invitation of the returned Chinese students, Obayashi suddenll, abandons the realistic

picture he has begun. The reason was that it wasJune 1989, and he and his cent wonld not

go to filnr in China because of the Tiauanmen Square incident. Instead, 0bayashi staged the

airplane trip, the visit to Beijing, the trip to the Great Wall of China all in the studio, making

this staginess clear to the viewer with cardboard nrock-ups and painted sets. This euonrolrs

and calculated rift in the stvle-from Lumiere to Nldlids in nrid-scene-also serues as a

conruent on the enormitl, of the massacre itself.

fur example of Oba,vzrshi's style-light, satirical, purposely incongrllolls-is seen in his

popnlar Trmnfer Stuclerzls (Tenkosei, Aka, Exchange Studeuts, aka I are You, You zutt Me,

1982), a very/ funny pictr-rre about two students, boy and girl, wlto sonteltow colne to occupy

eaclr other's bodies. InThe Discantates (ljintachi to no natsu, 1988) a mAn meets his dead

parerrts just as they were when he was a child. In Chizukl's lbunger Sister (Futari, 1991),

tlre elder sister retunrs from death to look after the younger. InlVostctlgie (HttrukA, rtosutaruji,

199), a failed writer meets a girl who strongly resembles a childhood sweetheart. He looks

on as she meets an adolescent student who turns ont to be the writer himself wltett yourtg. Irt

Ri.t,tt (aka The Motive, 2004), a murder m,vstery becomes a cross sectiort (over otte ltundred

speaking parts) of post-bubble Japanese lif'e.

Shinohara Tetsuo, a vollnger director, Llses the built-iu iucongmities of ntatrga to make his

satirical points. In The Biy4 Collectiort of Shou,o Eril Jbzgs, (Showa kayo daizenshu, 2002)

he has a buuch of punks battling spoiled middle-aged women to the death. Shimizu Hiroshi,

a Kitano disciple, also finds the comedy in violence .In Chicken Heart (Chikin hato, 2002) ,

his hero is a man who makes a living by being publicly beaten up for money. Shimizu finds

irr his professio nal nugurorqr ("humau punchiug bag") a ntetaphor for modertt Japan.

234

Riyu, 2004, Obayashi Nobuhiko, with Kishibe lttoku

Gentler, but just as satirical is Hayashi Karzo, best known abroadfor his take-off of Japa-

nese noir in his fulike Hanuner (Maiku Harna) series, which includes such titles as Tbe Most

Terrible Tinte in fl[-y, Ltfe (Wagajinsei saiaku no toki, 1994). His first film, however, is ltis

best remembered. To Sleep s0 as to Dreant (Yune miru yo ni rtemurit ai, 1986) is a loving

pastiche of earlyJapanese film (detectives in caps, girls in cloche hats and spit curls, the Victor

dog, sepia toning) which affectionately parodies modern foibles as well.

Anrong the best directors of this comic satire genre is Hirayanra Hideyuki, attd rnTuntt

(2001) he created a cornpletely cornmercialJapan with n0 one in it. The heroine has entered

anotlrer tirne level and lives in a Tokyo filled with things to buy and no people. In Laughirtg

Frog (Warau kaeru, 2002) he takes on the ordinary marriage and what happens when it

goes wrong.

The film which made Hirayama's rcputation, however, w6 )ul (2002), a mordant satire

about four women who work tn abox-lunch factory and rnust get rid of the body of an abu-

sive husband. Having successfully dismembered his corpse and durnped it, the four start a

Iucrative business in the disposal of the bodies of murder victirns. Gruesone and funny, the

picture is a study of behavior at its most extreme, beautiftrlly captured by tlte ensemble per-

fornrance of veteran actresses Harada Mieko, Baisho Mitsuko, Muroi Shigeru, and Nishida

Naomi.

Making the picture you want and then managm g to control it is, of course, the goal of any

film director. If your subject is not instantly saleable, usually to a yolrng audience, then this

is much more difficult. And if you work for a large company, independent 0r not, you then

turn into a con)pany hack-neither creating nor managing what you want.

Many Japanese films get rnade but are never released. Others are tailored for release but

go straight to the tube. Others are designed for the tube from the first. Still others are sched-

uled as just for the spool stores. Where a given film will go is now figured into the balance

sheets of new productions.

Kurosawa Kiyosht's CharismA, for example, played in only orle snall Tokyo theater,

though it lasted a number of weels. The rest of the money was made on DVD and video

sales and rentals. The pictures of a popular director such as Miike Takashi will be shown at a

theatre in the suburbs simply so that they will have had an opening date, and the rnoney will

be made at the video stores.

At the sarne time much film funding comes from television itself. Nl the big box office

nrovies of 2004 owed their success to network backing of what were the networks' owll

fihns. And the films themselves were often expanded versions of television programming, a

I.L

)/-tl

235

pheuomeuolt that Aaron Gerow has described as "the filrn projector as alt extension of the

cathode -ray tube. "r.i

Director Shinoda Masahiro has estirnated that now only thirty percent of current income

contes from movie theaters and that sevenly perceut contes from television broadcasting and

video rentals. He also believes that this meager thirty percent will be ftrrther eroded by the

hrternet'*, s0 different has "distributiolt" in Japan become.

fut exarttple of a director who still manages to work successftrlly within this system is

IclrikawaJun (no relation to IchikawaKon). Since 1987,he has made aseries of filmswhich

have established him as one of the most serious recent fihnnakers. Though he is also

Japan's leading director of television commercials-which is how he makes his lloney-his feature pictures are distinguished by a laconic structure and a quiet dignity, both of

which have recalled to some the work of 0zu.

htTokj,o Siblings (Tolryo lryodai, 1995), the resemblance to Ozu was intentional on the

part of the director. Though the style is not Q7s's-uo consistent sitting-on-tatami shots, no

ban ott palts-the world we are shown is that of Ozu. A brotlrer aud sister, orphaned, live

together in an old Japanese-sffle house in

downtown Tokyo. The sante red Ozu coffee

pot sits there while night after night, the

sister preparcs toftr for her brother. When the

sister finds a boyfriend, heL brother resents it

and the fanrily falls apart in the finest Ozu

tradition.

Ichikawa hirnself calls the picture au

"Ozu homage," adding that he never tires of

seeing the older director's films. The reasolt,

he told Mark Schilling, is that "today kids

lnay ltave TV garnes and the world may seern to be different but really nothing has changed.

The feelings between parents and childreu, between brothers and sisters, betweeu husbands

and wives are still the same. That's why Ozu's filns uever becorle dated."rs

Ichikawa cousiders his "reAl" Ozu film to be D1,irt,q at u Hospital (Byoin de shinu to iu

koto, I99r. "l didn't want close-ups of doctor's faces or suffering patients such as yoLl

usually find in hospital films . . . Death is an equalizer. Nl the six patients in those six wards

were main characters. I didn't want to focus 0n one at the expense of others. I wanted to view

them all equally. That's why I kept the canlera in one place. The carrera itself has no

236

Tokyo Siblrngs,1994, lchikawa Jun, with Awata Urara,

Ogata Naoto

ffit

Dying at a Hospital,1993, lchikawa Jun

emotion-it is sirnply a neutral observer. I wanted to maintain that neutrality."'o

The film, an essay in severity and conpassion, is made of very little: a few hospital roolls,

and a ttutnber of patients-a young father slowly dying, an elderly couple in separate hospi-

tals who want to be together, a wornan who fights against her death. The imposed distance

from the camera, coLlpled with the empathetic subject, finds the spectator trying to get closer

but unable to-the position most of us assurne when visiting the afflicted in hospitals. Lest

tlre strain become too great, Ichikawa intercuts these scenes with lyric docurnentary

sequences of life outside the hospital: random, inconclusive, beautiful scenes that the terni-

nally ill will ltever again see.

fuiother cornnunity-focused film is Zau,a-zoulo Shirnokitnznu,ct (2000), about a neigh-

borhood itt a Tokyo suburb. As in many of the director's films, what begins as a group por-

trait turns ittto a character study. Nothing much seerrs to happen, but as we watch we begin

to undemtand sotnetlting about life. The seasons change frorn the heat of sumner to the cold

of winter, aud with them, the people change. What began as nothing becomes everything.

InTokj,o Marigolrt (To\{yo marigorudo, 2001), the pluposeftrl indirection is even more

extreme. In this story of an ordinary, airnless yollng girl and her emotional disappoir-rtments,

tlte narrative is not about what is shown but what is missing. The dialogue gets the viewer no

further than it gets the inarticulate yourlg people-the story is elsewhere.

In fihns such as this one, Ichikawa nlay easily be perceived as a true maverick, for lre

turns against his times and celebrates the old, refusing to sell out to violeuce as apanacea for

emptiness, and, in so doing, defies the mainstream.

Oguri Kohei, like Ichikawa, has also retained his independence. His first film, IIu"dd1, Rfuryr

(Doro no kawa, 1981), a deliberate return to black-and-white shomingeki, is set in 1955

23t

Osaka and is about kids growing up to learn

the disillusioning facts of life, a scenario

that nakes one think of 0zu's children, and

of Shimizu Hiroshi's. A little boy, sou of

a lower middle-class farnily, makes friends

with two other children who live 0u a

houseboat. The little boy comes from a p00r

but loving family and does not know that

his new friends have no corlventional fam-

i|y at all, and that their mother prostitutes

lrerself to provide for thern. 0f Muddl, Rit,er,SatoTadao asked: "Why is it that the best Japa-

nese filrns about children are s0 sorrowful?" He then answercd his owr question. "lt rnay be

because of the authoritanan nature of Japanese sociely . and the need to prepare children

from early on to endure the repressiveness of that authoritarianisrn."rT

Ogtrri went ou to tnake For ltrl,ako (Kayako no tame ni, 1984) abor-rt the tuinority group

rlost discriminated against in Japan: ethnic Koreans, most of whom have been born in

Japan. Though the fihn was condemned by sorne for avoiding social criticism and depicting

only passive suffering, this was obviously how the director viewed the problem,

Even nore passive is the storyline of Tbe Sleepi,ng Mcr,n (Nernuru otoko, 1996). Ayoung

rnan, hurt in an accident, lies in a cona-he dies six months later. This is all that happens

so far as the story goes. But this event, like a stone cast in water, makes little waves of

life which affect everyone else in the picture. The months move on, the seasons pass, aud

the rnan asleep becomes a presence, a nucleus for his family, his friends. When he dies the

picture implodes.

As is fitting with such subject matter, Oguri worls very slowly, and fills his fihns with long

takes. The scenes in Tbe Sleeping Man puryosely exceed what rlight be called their infonlational

quotient. Like Mizoguchi's they are beautiful and, like fuitorlioni's, they are expressive. Unlike

both directors, however, Oguri has

always experienced financial diffi-

cnlties nraking his films. Mudd1,

Rfuter was financed by a factory-

owner fihn fan. The Sleepfug Man

was financed by Gurnma Prefec-

ture, where it was filmed. It is not

often, in Japan as elsewhere, that

civic endeavor is rewarded with art,

but this time it was.

23s :

Muddy Biver,1981 , Oguri Kohei

The Sleeping Man,1996, 0guri Kohei, with Ahn Sung-ki

fur equallv iunovative director is Yanagimachi Mitsuo. Though he has nade only seven

fihus he has, nonetheless, created a body of work wlrose serious independence is rare in

corrterrrporaryJapanese cinema. The first of the seveu was Gocl Speed lbu! Black Eruperor

(Burakku empera; goddo spido yu, 1976), a documentary about aJapanese bike gang. 0f it

the director has said that each society has its cwn rational laws but these have no relevance

to bike gangs. Yet, that is for him no problem. Nothing needs justification because "society

verslls the individual is a false equation."rs It is false because, as society changes its nature, it

is constantly being rephrased.

Though all of Yanagiurachi's filrls are about the erosion of traditional values, this is not

sorretlring he deplores . The IVineteert-I'ear-0kfs fllalt (Julqrusai no Chizu, 197D, based orr

a Nakagarni Kenji novel, a would-be ter-

rorist newspaper boy is filled with thoughts

of violence. The director has said that "l

don't meau to rlake it [violence] legiti-

mate, I mean to make it visible, to show it

for what it is." l')

A Farauell to the Earth (Saraba itoshiki

daiclri, akaFarewell to the Land, 1982) is

about the breakdown of the ruralJapanese

farnily through the story of a junkie truck

driver and the havoc he creates. 0f this filn Yanagirnachi said: "lt's not that I believe the

exteuded family is a good thing. I can't rnake a judgnent. But, whether for good or bad, the

balance has been destroyed."r0

Again, this destruction of traditional balance is the theme of Yanagimachi's finest film,

Himutsm'i (akaFire FestwaI, 1985), also based 0n a Nakagarni novel. The director lras said

that he wanted to develop further "tl'le relationship between nature and man." His modern

rttaclto Japanese man, a lumberman in

the forest of Kumano, cones Llp against

ancieut deities-palpable, if invisible-

itr a rcmarkable sedes of scenes where nature

becomes manifest: a storm, then sudden

stillness and suulight in the sacred forest.

One of the most extraordinary sequences

irt contemporary Japanese cinema, it is

composed of kleig lights, wind machines,

The Nineteen-Year-}ld's Map, 1979, Yanagimachi

Mitsuo, with Okiyama Hideko, Homma Yuji

Himatsuri, 1985, Yanagimachi

Kinya

Mitsuo, with Kitaoji

239

ruin makers, TamwaMasaki's calculated color photography, and Takemitsr-r Toru's rnagical

score. Everything works in perfectbalance to create five rninutes of transcendental wonder.

Here the false equation of society veffius the individual is resolved. It is really society (tran-

sient humans), versus nature (the way things permanently are).

It is also typical of the way things are lhat most of Yanagimachi's films have had to be

privately financed and produced, and that he has often found hinself unable to work. His

last feature film wu About Lotte, Tokj,s (Ai ni tsuite Tokyo, 1993), concerning illegal Chi-

nese inrrnigrants inJapan's caprtal. After that he directed only Shadout of Chinn (1990) for

Warner Brothers, and a rnade-for-television fihr, The Wandering Peddlers (Tabisuru

Pao-Jiang-Hu, I99).YanagiLnachi's first film was a documerftary about Tolqto bike gangs

and lre has remained true to fine-grained realism. InThe Wandering Peddlers he returned

to tlre documentary format to explore the subject of the rnedicine peddlers of Tatwan-a

vanislring breed who share much with other Yanagimachi characters. The director and his

cameraman (again TamuraMasaki) roamed all over the island, making friends and taking

pictures.

In these detailed, descriptive films, there is nothing prescriptive; nothing is being sold,

and there arc no obvious agendas. One thinls of the films of Robert Bresson and, indeed, the

younger Japanese aclarowledges the influence of the older French director. At the same tirne

lre mentions another influence: "l much admire Mizoguchi Kenji . . . he had avery cold,

objective, almost documentary style of filming. Bresson's films are different, but both direc-

tors share that cool, detached point of view with which I can identify."2r

The objective and detached point of view is very close to that of the documentary and,

indeed, many of these young directors have worked in this format. One such director is

Slrinozaki Makoto, whose fint film ,)kaui (1996), is about a seemingly typical youltg married

couple, getting along, living an ordinary life-like in some \atler-day Naruse film. But one

day the wife runs away, steals a car, becomes someone her husband does not know. He is

pulled out of his placid fwo-dimensional existence and dropped into three-dimensional life.

Yet this is not a domestic tragedy because it is her "madness" which saves them both from

the true madness of a meaningless existence.

At the end they stand together on the brow of a suburban hill, aplacewhere she has often

stood, and they both hear the wash of the invisible (and, in the rniddle of Tokyo, nolt-

existent) sea. We can only infer that they are at last feeling something authentic. This irony

is nowhere directly expressed but everywhere shown. At the same time sornething eternal is

suggested.

240

)kaeri, 1 996, Shinozaki Makoto.

Many fihns only celebrate the status qLlo, just as sone new directors are only concerned

with saying what everyone already knows. Shinozaki, more famous 'as an essayist, knows

how to think for hirnself. Also a projectionist (this is how he supports himselfl) he lurows fihn,

irrcluding-the largest influence 0n his work-Robert Bresson. The ghost of Une Fernme

Douce (1969)-another "mad" woman-hovers just above the surface of )kneri, though

Shinozaki's heroine does not kill herself. She shows us that socially structured life is not the

real one, a theme explored in the work of many contemp orary Japanese directors, such as

Kurosawa Kiyoshi, Kitano, and Yanagirnachi.

Kawase Naomi also made something like a documentary with her first feature film, Suzaku

(Moe no Suzaku, 1997). It depicts fifteen years in the life of afanily inarernote rural are^.

It is aplace where the young leave and the old die. The remnants of a farnily-ayoung gir[,

an older boy-stay on. She is attracted to

him, he is drawn toward the wife of his dead

uncle. But there arc no melodrarnatic com-

plications. The attentive can)eru (Tamura

Masaki) looks at the beautiful rnountain

village and observes those people still there.

Unlike many younger directors, Kawase

was not inspired by other filrns. Born in a

suburb of Nara, she says that she grew up

-'t -J--

')- --.j"

-i]

Suzaku, 1997, Kawase Naomi.

24r

seeing almost u0 movies or television. This, she believes, makes her more like filmmakers

fifry years ago, whose fihrs are rllLlch more realistic than those she now finds her contenrpo-

raries making. She creates rnovies based on what she lras actually seen and felt, not ou geltres

or trends. Her films, she says, are formed by the environrlent in which she grew up.

hr making her first featnre, she studied the village where she intended to film for three

years. She and her staff then lived there for three months prior to shooting. During this time

they repaired the old farmhouse where she wonld shoot. She cast all the parts, except that of

the father, from arlateurs, iucluding a number of local people,

F'or her next fihn, a more conventional documentary, Tbe Wertlr/ (Somaudo monogntAri,

1997), Kawase retnrned again to the village to record the lives of niue of the old people still

living. Talking with them luore as aclose relative thau as A filmmaker, she records their past

arrd, irr extreme close-Llps, their limited present. Shurusoju (Shara, 2003) is again set iu Narzt.

It deals with the theme of the absence of family through the story of a boy'who loses his twin

brother and is still dealing with the pain. Though the boy comes to ternrs with his loss, the

film is no affirming fantasv. Rather it is a docu-dralua; simple, apperent, devastating.

llary in this rrovie. His methods are radical. He asks his actors to read the treatment and then

forget about it. Through rehearsals he molds their version of the forgotten script-all rrove-

nrent, all dialogue their own. The canrerAman (again, Tanrura Masaki) is as nmch a part of

the action as they are, watching, always in control, always generously relinquishing it.

Irr 1999, Snwa nrade Xt/)thet' (Emu-tnaza), agztin An ensemble filnt, about the love

between a divorced rnan and a yolulger fenrale office worker. When the ruan's ex-wife falls

242

wa Nobuhiro's debut film, Dtto (2/Duo, 1997),

tion to a number of more conmercial filnrs, Also

ill, he rlust assume the responsibility of looking after their son. He brings the boy to the

home he shares with his lover without even asking her. This story and its complications were

arrived at through discussions between the director and the performers-actors Miura

Tornokazu and Watanabe Makiko. Suwa believes that this Cassavetes-like way of filming

reflects a deeper reality, and it is true that such believable spontaneity would not occur in a

scripted picture.

To allow room for this, cameranlan Inomoto Masami, known mainly for his documen-

tary work, maintained a certain distance, always shooting the action in long takes, and often

in long shots. What we are not shown becomes almost as irnportant as what remains unsaid.

The result is a kind of believabiliry very rare in more conventionally constructed films. Upon

winning a Cannes award for this picture, Suwa commented that the honor rnight have beeu

because he described ordinary people and not sorne exotic breed called "the Japanese." At

any rate, he affirmed that this was why he shot it the way he did.

ht H Story (Eichi sutori 2001), Suwa made another kind 0f "documentary," a new

version of Nain Resnais' Hiroshimct,, lllort Amltn'(1959), which shows the film (a recou-

struction) being made while the relationship between a French womau and aJapanese rnan

is being explored.

fuiotlrer docurlentarist, Kore'eda Hirokazu, made his first feature filrn in 1995 , Maboroshi

(Maboroshi no hikari). A young Osaka womau loses heL grandmother, then her husband

inexplicably commits suicide and she is left alone. Eventually she remarries. Her new hus-

band is a fisherman in a coastal village, and without our having been told (we arc far from

any authoritative voice) we understand that she believes she somehow causes deaths. The

clrildren (his and hers, one each frorn previous marriages) return late after a sudden stonr,

and she broods. After the funeral of an acquaintance, her husband, sensing her feelings, tells

Maboroshi 1995, Kore'eda Hirokazu, with Esumi Makiko

243

her what his father told him , thateveryone is tempted by such illusions Qnaboroshi) as hers,

that she is not alone-and she is consoled.

From a slender story by Miyamoto Teru (who wrote Oguri Kohei's Muddl, Rfu,er),

Kore'eda created a film filled with light and shadow (cinematography by Nakabori Masao),

unstressedparallels, and aregardfor people in their surroundings now rare inJapanese cin-

ena. In it the director rejects not only contrived storylines and editing tricls, but also the

rnedia-driven consumer madness of urban Japan. The pace is deliberate, the colors muted,

and the actors seem to blend rnodestly into the background, as though the film were a new

kind of shomingeki.

In addition, many scenes were shot from far away. Though we know that the people in

this fihn are wafln, understandable, just like us, we cannot reach thern-distance imposes a

kind of coldness. Nl we can do is watch. At the same time, as one carefully composed scene

follows another, the power of the sheerly quotidian is felt. We notice details, pattems-both

in the storyline and in the mise-en-scdne, each with its carefully prepared echoes and

repetitions.

Tlre respectradiated in Kore'eda's work is now rare in any film, let alone one rlade in

nrodern Japan. Kore'eda's carnerawaits, just like OzLl's, for people to leave the room before it

shows us the next scene. Sometimes it waits for a long time. At the end of lllaborol./ri there is

a distant, long-held scene which shows only a far away procession of mourners, the wife at

tlre very end. This we watch as it slowly inches its way across the screen. Two -and-a-half

minutes is the length of this scene-an enormous amount of tirle if there is "nothing" to

watch but just the right amount if there is everything to feel.

Ozu-like too is a method of construction where objects are given a kind of storyline

autonomy-as in the scene where the young husband leaves to go to work which cuts to a

laundry-holder in the rainwhich then cuts to the wife bathing the baby. The holder acts as a

kind of enjambment, both to separate tirne and to suggest water affinities.

fuiother influence, olte which has done much to illuminate contemporaryJapanese film,

is the highly popular cinema of Abbas Kiarostami, whose extremely distant shots force the

sarne kind of curiosity and eventual ernpathy. There is in Maboroshi a scene where the

young widow and her child wait for the train ataprovincial station. And wait, and wait. Yet

tlris tirne is necessary, as is lraving the two cltaracters at a great distance, if we are to feel as

Kore'eda wants us to. Context, atmosphere, nexus as narrative.

At the end of the film , after the widow has finally shed her black dress and is wearing a

white blouse, the camera lools out of the window . . . and sees the calm and ceaseless sea.

Jtrst wlrat we were shown at alike moment at the end of Ozu's Late Spring

In his second feature film, After Lrfe (Wandafuru raifu, 1998), Kore'eda returned to a

tlrenre he had first treated in his television docum erftary Wi,thout Memorl, (Kioku ga

244

uslrinawareta toki, 1996), about a

rnan suffering from brain damage

who, robbed of his menory, lives in

an eternal present. In After Life,the

setting is an ordinary-looking lirnbo

where the recent dead gather, and it

is explained to thern by the staff

that they will take their most pre-

cious menory with them into eter-

nity. If they cannot or will not choose,

then they have no eternity. This is a

problem the staff know well, as they

^re there (like the bodhisattva of the Buddhist cosmology) precisely because they were

unable to choose, and their task is now to help those who can.

To make the picture, Kore'eda interuiewed nearly five hundred people (men, women, old,

young) and from these chose ten for his picture. These ten were interviewed on film by actors

playing the staff whose duty it was to help reconstruct each person's most precious memory.

Nthough the staff had scripted lines, the ten amateurs did not. There is thus a strong story-

line but no written dialoglle.

Just as loosely scripted is Distance (Disutansu, 2001) , a dark and disturbing film about a

cult very like Aum Shinrikyo, the religious organizatiort responsible for the sarin-gas poison-

ings in both Matsumoto and Tokyo. It has been a year since the perpetrators of a similar

poisoning incident were killed by their fellow cult members, and a group of relatives and

friends drive to the distant lake where the executions occurred. Slowly and subtly, Kore'eda

creates from the deserted cottage, the ernpty groves, the still lake, a world of regret andfear.

After Life, 1998, Kore'eda Hirokazu

:T

0re

I

I

KDistance 2001

II

I

ilHeda H rokazu.

245

Fihned docutrentaryr-style, using handheld cameras, the picture is explicit about nothing.

Rather it leaves us to infer the full horror of what these people did and what happened to

theur.

In lVoboch, Krtous (Dare mo shiranai, 2004) the horror is explicit. A feckless vollng

ntother abandons lter own children. We watch as they tn'to cope, and fail. The electricity is

tunred off when n0 oue pays the bill,

they wash their clothes in the park, r *trv to live on junk food bought at the

convenience store, and the house gets

dirtier as the kids get filthier. The

injustice of this is apparent but there

is rto one to blame. The ruother is

more childish than her children, aud

for them societ,v-irresponsible 0r

not-does not even exist. Something

is bound to happen aud something

ovewhelnringly does.

Kore'eda the documentary-maker

has learned that the truth is in the

details. The son quietly asks the errant nother if he cAn't please go to school; doggedly the

children try to keep an accolurt book of what they have to spend; they forage in the neighbor-

hood, tnrning f'eral and not knowing it. Without any ostensible comment, Kore'eda piles one

observation on top of auother until the weight crushes all this innocerlce.

Bv displaying the children Alone, the writer-director is saying sorrething about what is

tnissing-the family. As with Ozn, from whom Kore'edA has leamed rr-l,rch, the decom-

position of the Japanese family is the rnajor theme. The abandoned children try to make

their own family. They fail. fuid in the process they show us that the world they live in is

oLus-and our fault.

"l'n-r strongly interested in the line between fiction and docurlentary, beMeert real aud

ultreAl," Kore'eda told Itakura Kimie. "ln this film l want to capture that llomeltt in

between these two."I When Aaron Gerow asked the director why he initially chose televisiorr

docuruentaries, Korc'eda said that it was because he had no other way to start. "We kuew that

the rnajors were finished, so hardly anyone of my geueration was thinking of working in the

studios." He did go to Iwauami Productions, which had first encouraged Hani Susurnn, but

they were now only making public relations filrls. Kore'eda sLunnarizes his options:

"Tltirtking of how I could get behind a camera, a television production compauy was the

next choice. "lJ

246

Nobody Knlws, 2004, Kore'eda Hirokazu

It was for television that Kore'eda made the series of docurnentaries which eventually led

him to feature-fihn production. In this he is like other directors of his generation: the tech-

niques of the docurnentary continuing into his commercial films. These younger fihnmakers

have thus given the docurnentary sffle a nore apparent realism, a definite place in the films

of the turn of the rnillenniurn.

DOCUMENTARY AND ANIME

/\ s we have seen, a major rnotif in the history of the Japanese film has been the oscillation

tt beMeen representation and presentation, between the perceived poles of an apparent

realiry and a highly controlled if realistic fiction. One of the effects of this duality is that the

documentary, that most realistic of film genres, has not had in Japan anything like the

influence it has had in other countries.

All film begins as docurnentary. Early scenes of Tokyo streets and of geisha dancing were

quite apparently real. Later films continued what Abe Mark Nomes has phrased as "the

shift from the general to the specific in the docurnentary's vicariolls, virtual experiences of

reality." r*

The Russo-Japanese War of 1!04 produced au enormous amount of fihned material,

some of it authentic, which inform ed aclamorous public and at the same time ensured that

this public thought as the government wanted it to. We have earlier in this book looked at

some of this material in an attempt to define Japan's idea of presentation. Here, in this short

suruey of theJapanese docurnentary, we will notice that though this populanzation of uews-

reel reality allowed the acceptance of that kind of fiction which is based 0n appearances, that

is, realism, it also left the documentary as afilm form with no place to go.

Some critics, Sato Tadao amoug thern, hold that the firstJapanese documentary of any

significance was Tbe Japanese Expedition to the South Pole (Nippon nankyoku tanken),

nrade in 1910 and released in 1912. 0thers, however, have maintained thatthis film achieved

this distinction only because it was the first to resemble the foreign "documentary."

In any event, the genre matured slowly in Japan, without nany role models. Robert

Flalrerty's 1922 Naruook of the IVorth-regarded by most film historians as the fint feature-

length documentary-wu f ar in the future, and even when the foreign documentary film

aclrieved its definite forrn in other countries, few exarnples were shown in Japan. Paul

Rotlra's book, Documuttarl, Film, wffi as near as the Japanese got to the important British

school of documentary.

Much closer in influence was the German kultur-film, imported u early u 1930, and

widely available locally because of the growing political ties between Japan and Germany.

-t -.

_U

247

These pleasant pictures were popular and were usually safely apolitical, unlike say, Russian

documentaries of the same period.

Russian documentaries themselves went unseen. Though the writings of Vsevolod

Pudovkin, Sergei Eisenstein and Dziga Vertov were translated into Japanese in the early

1920s, such films as Eisenstein's Potemkin (192) and Neksandr Dovzhenko's Earth (1930)

were not screened until after World War II. Even though Eisenstein's )ld and IVew (1929)

and Pudovkin's Storm luer Asia (1928) were permitted screenings before the war, they were

heavily censored.

Russian writings had their influence, however. In the fiction film this is seen in the works

of Ito Daisuke, Itami Mansaku, and even )zuYasujiro. The Russian influencevitalized and

for a time defined the nascentJapanese documentary. As Iwasaki Akirasaid'. "Nl arts are

vessels of ideology, and cinema is ideology in the forrn of an obi made of 35 mm film."rs

As the Japanese government became more repressive during the 1930s and 1940s, dissi-

dent opinion became more difficult to voice. Film was seen as away of showing dissent and,

fronr 1927 onward, the organrzatron Prokino, known as the "proletarian film movement,"

atternpted to use the documentary (as had Eisenstein and others) as ameans of protest.

The government fought back with fihn as its own ideologi ca| means and we have already

seen here some of the results. Among these were documentaries which were the firstJapanese

attempts at long-form, large-scale, non-fiction films. Most of these documentaries pushed a

militaristic agenda, with mixed results-as in Kamei Fumio's 1939 Fighting Soldiu.

0thers, like Ishimoto Tokichi's Snlnt Countrl, (Yukiguni, I93D attempted more. This

film reflected the realiry of rural Japan, actualify rather than aspiration, and in so doing

aclrieved what is implied in John Grierson's definition of documentary as "a creative

treatment of actuality." Most did not reach this level, however, and until the end of the

Pacific War the documentary was seen mainly as a weapon.

But when peace has been achieved, weapons are no longer useful. Helping hands are

needed. These were offered by the Nlied Occupation of Japan, America leading, and the role

of documentary as an instructional (and often indoctrinating) tool was acknowledged.

The Anerican-inspired documentaries of the Occupation period were also propaganda, to

be sure, and canied their own ideological load. At the same time, different issues were

approached by other documentary makers. The diet of the Japanese was examined by

0kuyam a Dairokuro, while films about infectious diseases were made by Onuma Tetsuro

and Sugiyama Masami. These were seen by large numbers of people since the Occupation's

Civil Information and Education Section (CI & E) had lent the Ministry of Education over a

thousand 16-mrn projectors, making "movie classrooms" popr-rlar.

Political issues were ^pryoached

in the films of Yoshimi Yutaka, Noda Shinkichi and

Kamei Fumio, though these appeared rnostly after the 0ccupation was over. Around this time

248

the Iwanarni publishing house created its own film unit, Iwanami Eiga. fulong the

educational fihns it produced were those of Kyogoku Takahide, Haneda Sumiko and Hani

Snsumu.

The Hani pictures were of great importance in the emergence of the postwar

documentary.Just as his feature filrns defined "new wave" freedonts in independent com-

mercial production, so his early documentaries freed the documentary forn and enlarged

the field . Childrut in the Classroom (Kyoshitsu no kodornotachi , 1954) and Childrur Who

Draw (E wo kaku kodornotachi, 1956) inspired a whole generation of filmmakers. They

proved that documentary did not have to be paternalistic and essay-like. Rather, one could,

as did Hani, set up a camera and simply record what occurred-sorting it out could cone

later. Before the term existed, cindma ueritd was in Japan and would yield spectacular

results-as in the documentaries of Kore'eda Hirokazu.

Documentary, however, continued to fulfill its role as a vehicle of political dissent. The

protest lltovement against the United States-J apan Security Treaty of 1950, though it ended

in failure, gave further irnpetus to the genrc. Matsumoto Toshio, Noda Shinkichi, and others

made their first fihns around this tirne and these led to the protest films of 0gawa Shinsuke,

one ofJapan's most original documentarists.

}gawa most farnously made a long series (some ten hours) of filns focusing on the

protests against the construction of Narita International Airport. Acting with arbitrary

authority, the government had requisitioned land and, for once, the farmers rebelled. They

were joined by various syllpathizers (including Ogawa), and the resulting ruckus became

one of the most celebrated social upheavals of the decade. fuirong the titles in the }gawa

series arcSect of Youth (Seinen n0 umi, 1966) andsummer in lVarita; T'he Front Linefor

the Libuation, of Jnpan (Nihon kaiho sensen: Sanrizuka no natsu, 1968)

Ogawa has said that while they were making the Narita series, they gradually became

awarc of the "inner spirit" of the farmers-perh aps a bit like Uchida Tomu and his crew

when they were making the contraband Earth (I93D many years earlier. This awareness

resr-rlted in a later series of documentaries by the same director on farm life, among them the

prize-winning,4 Japanese Village; Furt4,61sl1ltri (Nippon koku Furuyashiki-rnura, 1982).

This kind of political statement was new to the documentary genre in Japan Usually

rrore akin to an anodyne kultur-film, or else obviously propaganda for either the United

States or the Soviet Union, such a strong personal bias was rare, and showing the resulting

product was difficult. Oshima Nagisa's television documentaries were relegated to odd hours;

Inramura Shohei's, even though sponsored by the television company itself, were aired only

at three or four in the morning.

Some documentaries were initially not shown at all, such as Tsuchimoto Noriaki's

irnportarttfr[inamata; Tbe Victims and Their World (Minarnala:Kanja-san to sono sekai,

'-r -,..,1-

249

1972) about the mercllry poisoning of an entire community by a nearby chemical cornpany,

and the scandal occasioned by the efforts of those responsible to escape. Tsuchimoto went on

to uake a number of other socially responsible documentaries-many more 0n the

Minamata pollution tragedy, as well as other like disasters on the Shimokita Peninsula and

itt Korea. This line of documentary still continues in the ecological pictr-ues of Sato Makoto

and Hirneida Tadayoshi.

In addition, the documentary was finding an audience other than in the classroom and

on the television screen. Frorn the 1970s 0u, a number of small theaters began to specialize

in the genre. One such was Iwanami Hall, which has shown the documentaries of Haneda

Snrniko, Miyagi Mariko aud many others. In 1989, the Yantagata Documentary Filn Festival

was iuaugurated, and in 2000 a similar festival was started in Yufuin, irt Kyusltu. By showing

both local and foreign worls, these festivals have not only stimulated a real interest in docu-

rrentary, but have been able to bring controversial films to awider audience. Without such

venues and such support, a filrl such as Matsui Minoru's brave .lapattese Det,ils (Riben

guizi, 2001), for example, would not have been possible. The film is a series of staterneuts by

fourteen former irnperial army soldiers who fought in China and who 0n canera tell exactly

wlrat they saw and did. The rnaking and marketing of a film which challenges Japan's

anrnesia regarding its wartime atrocities was an act of real conscience and courage.

fulong the younger documentarists, the strongest-though still least likely to be

slrown on prime-tine television-is Hara Kazuo. As a student of the Tokyo Academy 0f

Photography he worked part-time iu a school for children with disabilities, where he discovercd

the tlrerne of his first fihn, Gooclbl,e CP (Sayonara CP, 1972), about adults with cerebral

palsy and how they are regarded (or disregarded) by the Japanese. It deliberately challenges

taboos about the sharne of physical difference and refuses any facile empathy, As one of the

afflicted says in the fihn: "Pitf, I can do withollt it."

Hara's next film, two years Iater, caused even more of a stir. Eltreme Priuate Eros; Lotte

Sortg (Kyokushiteki erosu: Koiuta 1974) is about Hara and his estranged wife, a radical

ferninist, in Yokosuka, aJapanese port town which, as in Imamura's Pigs and Battleshilts

(1961), is "corrupted" by the American naval presence. Hara's real subject, however, is the

Japanese family and its insular structure. "l thought that if I could put my owr family under

the camera, aI|our emotions, our privac,y,I might break taboos about the farnily."zc

Witlr The Emperlls lVak,ed Arml, Marches }rt (Yukiyukite shingun, 19S7) , Hara

created his strongest and his rnost controversial film. Not since Ichikawa Kon's Fires on the

Plain htd aJapanese film dealt so frankly with the facts of World War II, and none since

Karrei Funrio's banned 1946 A Jctltartese Tragedl' had so confronted the responsibility of the

emperor. The picture focuses 0n a nlan who obstinately inplicates Emperor Hirohito,

denouucing him as "the most cowardly man inJapan."

250

Like the hero in Kurosawa's Record of a Lhting Being, the protagonist of Haru's film,

Okuzaki Kenzo, is obsessed with his theme. Like the earlier hero, he, too, comes to use the

very lneans he is criticizing. The rTran is a champion for righteousuess and he is at the sarne

tirne much given to violence-he attacls those he interviews and at the end of the filn he is

irr prison yet again for attempted murder. The paradoxes are so much like those in Imamlua

Slrolrei's A f,{an Vanishes that one is not surprised to learn that the entire project was origi-

rrally conceived by him. He gave it to Hara while the younger director was working as an

assistant cameramarl onVengeartce Is Mitte.

The film itself, with Hara and his c meramuch in evidence, transgresses a ttumber of

Japanese social norms-so many, indeed, that no one wanted to touch the picture once it

was made. Everyone was afraid of retaliation by rightist thugs and thei r yakuza counterparts.

But Hara persevered. As he has said of himself: "My outlaw complex is very strong."r7 Finally

the docurnentary and experimental film archive, hnage Forum, was brave enough to show it.

This film was followed by A Dedicated Ltfe (Zenshin shosetsuka, 1994), produced in-

farnily by Kobayashi Sachiko, where again motivation is unveiled and Hara hinself is part of

the picture. He has said that this filrn continued his interest in the dividing line between the

docume ntary and the fictional film and that he had featured firebrand 0kuzaki Kenzo

because "he was something like an action star."r8 Fact and fiction are seamlessly closed in

Hara's first "feature film," Chi,kn (Matano hi no Chika,2005).

Many youngerJapanese documentary makers are similarly interested in the line between

tlre real and the fictional. Kore'eda Hirokazu once told Aaron Gerow that he had always

believed that the filming person and the filmed subject occupied nvo separate dimensions, as

it were, but that in his first documentary he became aware that this was not what he wanted.

Hara would agree in that he is continually experimenting with a form which will include

botlr real and fictional. This is one of the reasons that A Dedicated Lift has many

"memories" reconstructed for the camera, andwhy Haru is now devoting all of his energies

to fictional fihls.

If the documentary traditionally represents one pole of the representation-presentation axis,

tlre anim ated film, that nost presentational of fihn forms, can be seen as the other. Here

plrotographic realism does not exist. Rather, aueated actuality is presented and the realism

is that of the artist-the person who draws the rmages.

The presentational style has been variously described, but the term usually implies that

inrages are created for the cam era rather than found by it, and that these have a stylistic

unity, or a controlled stylization missing from representational sffles-variously controlled

251

though they may be. One of the liveliest defenses of this presentational quality occurs in one

of its famous fictional celebrations-furdr6 Gide's novel Les Factx-fulonnct],etffs.

Here Gide has Edouard, his protagonist, state that the creator should absolutely not be "a

slave to resemblance." Rather, he ought to cultivate "that deliberate avoidance of life which

gave style to the works of the Greek dramatists," whose works are "deeply human only in

tlreir depths; they don't prize themselves 0n appearing s0-0t, at any :"ate, 0ll appearing

real. They remain worls 0f art."re

This is the appeal of any presentational work-it is a work of art, unified in vision,

singnlar in style, and subject to none of the vagaries of actualiry. In Japan, as elsewhere, the

cittentatic form which most satisfies such criteria is the animated cartoon, the anime. Its

growth parallels that of the Japanese feature fihn. It, t00, had its beginnings 0u the stage and

has long exhibited this debt; it, too, was subjected to various political and economic

pressures; and finally, it, too, continues to narrate in a distinctiveJapanese accent.

Projected, animated images were seen ear\y, in the utsushi-e of. the nineteenth-century.

These were, essentially, lantern slides with movable parts (hands, feet, heads) which could be

manipulated during the showing. fui outgrowth of even earlier shadow plays, in which

images were rnanipulated by hand while their shadows were projected on a screen, these

r-rtsushi-e began to be adapted to film shortly after the first foreign animated pictures were

shown in Japan, around 1909. Among those experimenting with the new fomr were Kouchi

Sumikazu, Shimokawa Oten, andKitayama Seitaro. The rneans werc several: single moving

parts taken from the utsushi-e, blackboard drawings which were erased and modified for

each succeeding exposure, and traditional stencil-cut shadow play.

One of Kouchi's pupils, Ofuji Noburo, wff to becorne famous for his popular chh,sgoTni-

eiga, made from antmated paper cutouts. Inspired by Lotte Reiniger's similar work, widely

seen in Japan, he devised his own anination board and went into production. His first film,

The Whale (Kuiira), was conpleted in 1927 , a yea;r before Disney released its first Mickey

Mouse feature, Stearnbont Willie.)ftrii remadeThe Whale in color tn1952 and went on to

create Ghost Ship (Yureisen, 1956), his best-known film. In 1940,Arai Wagoro rnade his

popular Fcmtctst,oJ'Maclnm Butte(l:, (}cho-ftrjin no genso) rnasimilar style.

Nl these films used stop-frame animation in addition to manipulation of the images

while the camera was running. The technique of drawing directly on celluloid "6s[5"-[[g

accepted rnethod of early animation in the West-was seen inJapan only after 1929, and

was not widely used until much later.

In the West, the anirnated-cel pioneerwas Walt Disney, andhis pictures, in Japan as else-

wlrere, s00n established a hegemony. When sound film became feasible in the early 1930s

there were a few Japanese animated talkie fihns, mainly those of Ivlasaoka Kenzo, but

Disney's were thought superior, andmany animators were put out of jobs.

252

Wartime Japan offered a new role for animated pictures, however, since these could be

used to inculcate a young and malleable audience. In 1935, the J. 0. Studios produced a

short about Momotaro, the redoubtable Japanese Peach Boy, verslls Mickey Mouse. In it, the

popular rodent is quickly dispatched. Momotaro rnade further appearances in Seo Mitsuyo's

Momotaro's Sea Eagle (Momotaro no umiwashi, 1943) and Momotaro-Dittine Troops of

the )cean (Momotaro: Umi no shimpei, I)45). In both of these the Peach Boy goes to war.

"M0n0tar0 rnakes a leap onto the stage of the Greater East-Asi a Wart" said the press

release.i0 The evil demons speak English (with Japanese subtitles) and Momotaro finds a

plaque which reads, "0n a night when the moonlight is bright, there will come from an

Eastern land of the Son of Heaven a divine soldier on awhite horse who is destined to liberate

the people."'il

After World War II was lost, there was little need for this sort of animation, 0r indeed any

animation at all.Just as the documentary had been sornewhat compromised bywartime use,

so tlre Wopagandization of anirnation worked against postwar acceptance. In addition,

animation was expensive to nake, and the tines were inclining toward a new realism.

Consequently there was little animated film. Ichikawa Kon managed to finish his kabuki-

based puppet picture, Musume Dojoji (1946), only to have it banned by the 0ccupation.

fuiotlrer animated film, this one safely non-feudal, Masaoka Kenzo's Cherry BlossomJ-

A Fantasl, 0f Spring (Sakura , akaHaru n0 genso , I94D, featuring butterflies and girls under

the blossonls of Kyoto, and synchronized to the music of Karl Mariavon Weber's "hrvitation

to tlre Dance," was approved and shown. Besides, the director had alreadyhadsome success

witlr anre non-propagandawartime musical animation,The Spider and the Tulip (Kurno

to clrurippu, 1943)

All these worls-prewar, wartime and postwariefined the aesthetic limitations of the

Japanese animated product. Seen now, they indeed demonstrate that their graphic spatial

assumptions are those one associates with early Japanese cinem a andwith the print artists of

a century before. Composition remains a najor concern, and the regard for balance, as seen

in the work of rnaster printmakers Hokusai and Hiroshige, is taken for granted. Likewise

there is little attempt at any three-dimensional illusioni5pr-Mo dimensions are enough-

and the re are equally few atternpts at depth. fuid the action (even by the evolving interna-

tional standards of the tirne) is still limited.

Until computer animation became a possibility, Japanese cellular anrmation limited

itself to eight frames a second. The Western standard was and remains twelve frames a sec-

ond. At a film speed of twenry-four frames per second, this meant that the Japanese anime

presented each frame three times, while the Western films offered a new image every two

frames. The result is that American and European animation appearcd slightly more lifelike.

JerkyJapanese animation of this period is called "limited animation" and indeed it is.

253

The standard adopted by the Japanese, however, saved time as well as mouey, and made

weekly television animation series possible. It fit the budgets of the prodllcers. Eventually,

thanls not only to limited animation (which in some cases was s0 jerb it seemed to revert to

the earlier slide-show forrnat), but also due to the low wages of Japanese animators-and

the even lower wages of subcontractors in Taiwan, China and Korea-rnaking an animated

film became cheaper than making an ordir:m;ry picture. As Sato Kenji has said: "AninlAtiorr

offers a means of producing slick, stylish fihns without spending much money."il Since

natural-appearing novement was not one of the concerus, it was also not considered

inappropriate to be unrealistically jerky in motion.

Indeed, the halting poses of much Japanese anirnation have been compared to the series

of still poses which supply the continuity of rtihon bL4,0,Japanese classical dance. This kind

of dance differs frorn, say, Western ballet, in that the rnoments of rest are considered the high

point, while in ballet it is the dynamic novement itself (from one monent of rest to another,

as it were) which defines the strength of the choreography. furirre pallses in a way reminis-

cent of nihon buyo, and in both instances naturalistic llovenlent is not a cormidered alterua-

tive.

Lifelike represeutation is largely missing because it is rarely attempted. Rather, all manga

and most anime aL-e considered as opportunities for presentation. Just as the comic-book

manga, ovenvhelmingly popular in Japan, is irr reality a series of storyboards, so the anime

retains the storyboard effect. This effect is seen at its purest in Oshirra Nagisa's Bnnd of

lVinja (Ninja bugei-cho, 196D, which cousists of photographed stills-the original draw-

ings which Shirato Sarnpei made for the comic strip of the sarre title. The storyboard effect is

also evident in Ichikawa Kon's Shinsengurni (2000), where comic-strip cutouts are manipu-

lated in the most puryosely elementary manner.

The strong stmctural connection between manga and anime is logical, since rnost Japa-

nese animated features are based upon best-selling rnanga series. fui example would be

Tezuka Osarnu's Astrobol' (Tetsuwan Atomu). It made its debutas a manga comic book in

I9St, wffi instantly popular, and in 1953 was luade intoJapan's first animated TV series. The

turbo-charged youth with searchlight eyes, and ears a thousand tirnes sharper than ours,

proved equally prevalent on the screeu, and the series' theme song becante ubiquitous:

"There you go, Astroboy, 0n your flight into space! Rocket high, through the sky, what

adventnres yoll' ll face! "

Tezuka, sonetimes called "the Walt Disney of Japan," not only pioneered the animated

feature but also created the first animation factory. The Disney resemblance continued in

tlrat such works u Pictures ctt an hhibitiort (Tenrankai no e, 1956) and the unfinished

Legencl of the Forest (Mori no densetsLl, 1988) may be thought of as homages to Disney's

Ftnttnsia (1940)

254

The compliment was returned when Disney derived irs Liort Kng fron the Tezuka

anime, Jungle Emperor Leo (Janguru taitei, aka Kimba the White Lion, 1997) and its

predecessors, released in Japan fron 1965 to 1967 and later frequently televised in the

United States.

Jungle Emperor Leo came from a comic-book manga. Tezuka's original version ran

from 19iO to 1954 in aboys' magazine. It was animated and televised as aseries from 1965

to 1967 . Theatrical versions were made in 1955, 1989 arfi 1997. Nl of these metamorphoses

argue for an enormous audience. It was reported that in 1995 an average of fifteen cornic

bools and magazineswere annually purchased by every man, woman and child on theJapa-

nese archipel ago.

In designing nanga (the word was apparently first used by Hokusai in I8I4 to mean "spoll-

taneous pictures," as applied to his series of lrurnorous sketches), the artist remains in com-

plete control, unlike in the West where the artists are often part of a team composed of

scriptwriters, inkers, letteren, andso forth. fuiimatom such as Tezukaare thus in the position

of directors like Mizoguchi and Kurosawa who assumed full control over and responsibiliry

for everything. This means that personal style (rather than house sffle) becomes apparent.

Tezuka's style is straightfonvardly rnanga-esque, but his less commercial work reveals

definite personal characteristics, particularly in such experimental worls as Jumlting(Jampingu, 1!84), a seven-minute conceit rnade in a single shot with over four thousand cel

drawings, ard Broken-Down Film (Omboro firumu, 1985), where Tezuka deliberately

stained and slashed his work in order to create the feeling of "primitive" silent-period ani-

rnated movies.

Just as manga influenced anime in its storyboard-like construction, so cinerna has also

infltrenced comic-book manga. Tezuka's 1947 cornic-b ook shin Tnkarajima (New Paradise

Island) was considered a pioneering work because, in showing a driver speeding along a

road, an action taking place over several comic-book frames, different visual ("camera")

angles were used. Previously, Japanese nanga comics had, like the first fihns of half a

century before, showed action only from fixed positions. Tezuka'svarying perspective off'ered

sonrething new to printed mang a, and now can be regarded as apresage of anim ated mauga

to come.

In the succeeding decades, anime has achieved an enormous popularity and nany new

cartoonist-directors have emerged. During the late 1970s, more than forty uew series were

produced yearly, as well as special weekly ninety-minute-long animated programs.

Matsunroto Reiji's famous television series Space Battleship Yamalo (Uchu senkan Yamato,

255

1974-75) was edited into a series of five feature films, all directed by Masuda Toshio. Even

established directors tried their hand at the new form, such as hnai Tadashi with Yuki (1931).

With s0 many works creating a field so wide, one that is still proliferating, only a few can

be cited lrere. One might mention Sugii Gisaburo's poplllar lVigltt of the Gnlaxj, Railroad

(Ginga tetsr-rdo n0 yoru, 1985); Otomo Katsuhiro'sAkira (1988), based on his four-volume

comic book about neo-Toho in the year 2030 which, as Tony Rayns uoted, was "paced like a

rnachine-gun: hardly any image is held on screen for longer than a few seconds"i'i' Otomo's

Stearnbol, (Sutimu boi, 2004), the Tezuka-influenced homage to Atomboy; Oshii Mamoru's

Ghost in the Shell (Kokaku kidotai, 1995), based 0n rnanga by Shiro Masamune;The Wolf

Brigacle (Jinro, I99D by Oshii's prottlg6, Okiura Hiroyuki; and tuino Hideaki's 25-episode

IVeon Genesis; Et,cmgelion (Shin seiki evangerion, 1995) which was later repackaged into

several feature films.

Irnportant too, is the work of Studio Ghibli. Miyazaki Hayao directed M1' lVeighbor

Totoro (Tonari no Totoro, 1988); Kiki's Deliuerlt $svlti6e (Majo no takkyubiu, 1989); and

the elaborate and eco-friendly Princess X[ononofre (Mononoke-hime, 1997), whiclt became

in Japan the highest grossing film of its time. Miyazaki won international renown for his

award-winning Spirited Auta), (Sen to Chihiro n0 kamikakushi, 2002), before tnovittg on to

Hou,l's ll,lotting Castle (Hauru no ugoku shiro, 2004), both of which broke Princess

M on ono k e' s box-office record.

Princess Mononoke, 199J , Miyazaki Hayao

Recent auirne developments have seen various tie-ins arnong manga publications and

computer games, and inroads into the toy market. One such nanga-computer-toy tie-in is

the Pocket Monsters (Pokdrnon, 1998) anime series which began as software for portable

game machines nade by Nintendo. fui anim ated version was first shown ou televisiott, and

tlren went into theaters as aseries of featr-rres. With it went the various spin-offs comtnon to

such genres.

This pattern duplicates that of early cinema, where the first scenes and spectacles were

recycled among various venues. New technical developments (the kinescope peep-show, the

256

eaily kinemascope projector, the first movie halls) permitted the product-still in itsoriginal state-to pass through these morc advanced viewing phases. The movernent is visible

in other film industries as well. The earlier faking of the sinking of the Lusitaria and the

latter faking of the sinking of the Titanic have much in cornmon.

One thus sees in Japan's latest films nany of the assumptions of its earliest cinema.

Tlrough the technology is now more or less on the cutting-edge of whatever technolo gical

advance is being made, the surmises are often ones we are familiarwith from the traditional

arts of Japan. There is no real contradiction. Japanese hardware is usually advarrced, Japa-

nese software seldom is.

As the aniurated field grows, genres proliferate and distinctions, such as that between

ctnirneishon (animation) and anime, are beginning to be observed. Miyazaki Hayao made

this differentiation in the documentary interuiew which precedes the American English lan-

glrage dubbed version of Princess Mononoke (1999). Here he voices his dislike of anime,

saying that it "simply uses manufactured images instead of reality." (Since the irnages in

both animation and anime are manufactured, Miyazaki presumably rneans by this that

0torno and the other anirne people are not realistic in the way he believes hirlself to be.)

Nonetheless, amid all such painted "realism," one rarely forgets the presence of the Japa-

nese anirnator and his guiding hand. He has, with realistic detail 0r not, created an error-

mous body of work, the conventions of which now influence many other forms: advertising,

design, narrative structure in the novel, and the connercial "live-acti0n" feature fihn itself.

One ought perhaps to atternpt to accourrt for the enormous poplllarity of both nanga

and anime since they have come to dorninate all visual markets and even (in box-office

figures) to representJapanese filmmaking as a whole. It is maintained thatntanga accounts

for a third of all bools sold in Japan, and that anime accounts for half of allJapanese movie

tickets sold.

In explaining this phenornenal popularity, Sato Kenji has said that "for anirnation to

push aside live-action films, a growing number of people had to prefer the thin, insubstarfiial

reality of animation to the flesh-and-blood world of live-action."i* This, indeed, is precisely

what occured during the 1990s.

The flight to anirne, says Sato, is the inevitable result of the ethnic self-denial that has

suffused Japanese society ever since the Meiji era, and especially since the end of World

War II. Bent ou achieving the goals of moderntzatiorr and Westerntzation, theJapanese, in

rejecting their own history and traditions, have sought to beconte rtihonjin-baTtare

(de-Japanized)-generally a complirnentary terrn, implying that one looks and acts more

like a Westerner than aJapanese.

Toward the end of the twentieth century, many were the attempts to Westemize. There

were not only Western clothing fashions to be acquired and exhibited, there was also mass

257

hair-dying among the young (blond being preferred) and eccentric make-up for girls which

rounded the eyes and built up the bridge of the nose, as well as towering platform shoes to

achieve a hopefully Western height.

Only mang and anrme, however, could convincingly meld Japanese and Western attrib-

utes into a natural-looking human being. Here one can have enormous round eyes and long

legs. "This is because," continues Sato, "the upside of these genres' inherent"Iackof realism

is tlreir unique ability to exploit the appeal and fucination of the unreal. And this is why

manga and anrme have attained such a high status in the popular culture of Japan . .

These are the only two media capable of portraying realiff the way Japanese feel it should

be. "35

Though this thesis would seem at odds with tradition-boun d Japan, a moment's

reflection suggests that this concern for the way things should be rather than the way they

are is in itself atradition-and not only inJapan, though perhaps, as s0 often, it is more

visibly so there.

Despite the many exceptions, a general apathy to realism as a style is one explanation for

the enormous popularity of mang and anrme. Another is that the attractions 0f "virtual"

reality are to be seen more strongly inJapanthan in most other countries, perhaps because

"reality" itself is regarded in so tenuous a fashion. After all, one of the comforts of virtual

reality is that, even when it concerns itself with gunmen and monsters, it is not dangerous.

Reality itself, on the other hand, is traditionally perceived as perilous. Indeed , a part of the

education of any Japanese child is being told many times a day (usually by Mother) that this

or tlrat ts abunai-dangerous. Virtual reality is also enormously tractable. One can control

avtrtual landscape 0r aviftual penon much more easily than can one the real thing.

Japan is historically very familiar with this. It early perfected, for example, a classical

garden sfyle that is "virtual" in that it was entirely "ptogtammed." The differences between

the seventeenth-century garden of the Katsura Ribru Imperial Villa in Kyoto and the com-

puter game Dragonball are manifest, but their sirnilarities should not be overlooked. Three

of tlrese are the taming of nature, the idealizing 0f the environment, and the making of

everything into what it ought to be rather than what it actually is.

Such a conclusion might then explainJapan's perhaps othenvisepuzzling lack of interest

in realism as a style, and its corresponding lack of respect-if that is the term-for reality

itself. It mightbe argued that there is no reality-that is, everything thatwe call by that

name is really programmed somewhere down the line and hence has become something it

was not. The flaw in that line of thought, however, is that it fails to particularize, which is

something that this book has attempted to do.

25u

CONCLUSION

ln describing the history of earlier Japanese film I have often oscillated between the two

I ideas of the tradition al and the modern. This is fitting because the Japanese themselves

used to do so. We have thus searched for and found much living tradition within a contem-

polary context, many atradition renaining in modern guise.

In the pictorial compositions of both the earliest and the latest fihns, I have traced con-

nections and found ratios of empty and full which we can view as typical; have viewed the

screen in the first Loyal Forbt-$sttm Ronin and evett the later Neon Gsnesis: Euangelion

as a two-dimensional field, something to look at ruther than see through, and have read a

narrative structure which retains the assumptions of the theme rather than the promptings

of the plot.

A similar search of contemporary Japanese film would find much less evident tradition.

Suclr is the erosion experienced by any tradition. Notwithstanding, these various means do

metamorphose and emerge in different form. That the Japanese cinematic accent is now

much closer to that of the West is apparent. What is not so obvious, and this I have attempted

to describe, is thatit is still there.

Tlre lowering slq' defines character in Maboroshi (1995) just as it did in Souls on the

Road (1921). The narrow depth of image is as ^pparent

in the adventures of Akira as it was

in the adventures of Matsunosuke, and young directors find the long shot just as necessary

as did those now long dead. Kitano, Aoyama and Iwai find it cool, Naruse and Mizoguchi

found it non-involving, and the shot is the sarne, though the contexts in which it is used are

different indeed.

This living tradition (unseen, accepted, even unconscious); this analgam of supposition,

of conjecture, surmise and accepted assumption; this aesthetic celebration of pattern and

composition; this extreme angle from which life is to be viewed; this need for an auth ortta-

tive andJapanese voice-that is what this book has been about.

tl

-l.

)t'

-'l-';

259

I apanese fihn for home use is presently found in two fomrats: DVD and VHS (videocassette).

tJ In Japan and the Americas the system is NTSC, while much of Europe relies 0n PAL.

France and Russia use SECAM. Nl these systems are rnutually exclusive. In addition, DVDs

are often designed to be playable in a single zone and to be unplayable in others. A DVD

designed to be played in the USA (Zone 1), for example, cannot be played in Japan (ZoneZ)

without a "universal" DVD player. This messy state reflects the economic arnbitions of both

hardware and software producers.

Tlre films listed below are almost all English titled (with the exceptions plainly indicated)

but may not all be obtainable (and will be distinguished with 0P for out-of-print). These 0P

titles are nonetheless included since this listing aims to show whatever is or once was avail-

able. Many of the out-of-print films are available at rental shops or sold as collector's items

at popular online sites or in specialty stores. Most titles included have already been men-

tioned in the pages of this book. Films of rnajor directors, if available, are also included even

if they have not been mentioned earlier. fuid, of course, many mentioned in the text cannot

be included in this guide since they were never issued in tape or disc fonnat. American-made

discs and videos are given preference, those from other countries being listed only if there is

no fuire r rcan-made p roduct.

The title under which each film is listed is usually that preferred by the issuing comp any,

but it is also cross referenced with its alternative titles. In the matter of film lengths there is

little agreement. I use the Japanese reference standard, which is sometines different fronr

that supplied by foreign video and disc manufacturers. There is also the matter of qualiry.

This is generally good, but can vary, depending on the original printing materials and the

amount of care taken in the transfer.

0f course, all versions are less perfect than the original projected film version. My listing

of these tape and disc versions does not imply that I endorse the results. The experience of

watclrin g Ser.ten Samurai on television is nothing apryoaching that of seeing the film on

263

atheater screen. But in most countries (including Japanitselfl tape and disc are now the only

ways to view these films.

Finally, in commenting upou each,l have tried to give an indication of gener al uitical

opinion by including some listing of awards. The reader will be faniliar with most of these,

but perlraps not with the Knema Jumpo awardfor best film. This is important in Japan and

is awarded by a body of film critics, thus making it sirnilar to the New York Film Critics' Award.

I lrave designated these as IS#1. There is also aJapan "AcadentyAward" panel operating in

much the same inner-industry manner as does its Hollywood counterpart.

In making this list I am extremely grateful to Marty Gross, Lalu Danzker, and Stuart

Galbraith IV, all of whom were generolrsly helpful in finding for me which Japanese films

were available. I would also like to thank Racha Abaziedfor hef in locating French sources.

fuiy oversights are mine, not theirs.

264

A

Actor's Reuenge, An (\'ukinojo hertge, 1953),

Ichikawa Kon. A kabuki fenrale iurpersonatoL takes

reverrge for the forced suicicle of his pareuts. Veterau

Hasegawa Kuzuo plavs a double role lu both rnale

actress aud the thief lvho befrieuds hiur, and Wakao

Avako is the girl who falls in love with tlte cross-

dressing actoL. Kitsch lurd camp nreet dedicatiou and

true love. 114 nrins. D\DnrHS, British Film lnstitute

(UK)

Alfair at Kamakura. See (,itu=etl Fi'ttil,

Afraid to Die (KaLakkaze \,aro, aka A t{an Blown

llv the Wind, 1950), N{luslrnmrut Ylnuzo. A gangster

filnr with fanous author X'lishinra Yukio in the

Ieacling role. The script was wLitten bv Kulosawa

scLiplwriter Kikushima Rvuzo, but the Lesnlts are

nrore curious than believable. 96 nrins. DVD,

Fautonra Fihls.

4fte, Life (Wandafuru Laifu, 1998), Kore'ecla Hiro-

kazr-r. A thoughtful elegv irr which the dead line up

to be plocessed into the next world. In orcler to enter,

tltev ltave to choose a single nreulon' to take with

thenr. This nrenron' is then fihned bv the dedicatecl

staff-cornprised of those lvho could not or woulcl

not thernseh'es choose a nrenrolr'. 118 nrins. D\D/

VHS. New Yorker Films.

Akira (198.3), Otonur Katsultiro. The arrinratecl f'ea-

turc that, for u tinre, defined Japanese aninre. Brued

0n a popular Otonro comic-book, it is set in Tokvo

afteL World War III with Akira, the apocalr,pse per-

sonified, pitted against \'oung biker Tetsuo. Charac-

terization is nrininral: special effects iu€ over the top.

124 rnins. D\D. Pioneer Video,

Akira Kurosarl,o's Dreams. See Drertnts.

All Mixed Up. See tlktrr.f i.

Angel Dust (Enjeru clasuto, 1t1t)4), Ishii Sogo.

funortg the fiLst of the nouvelle horror flicks. A

new-Leligion convert is supposed to be depro-

glanrnred but is tttLued irtto a serial killeL. Our

heroine catches on, with terrible results. 123 rnins.

DVD, Panorama Eutertainment (Hong Kong), \'HS,

New Yorker Films.

Antonio Gaudi (1984), Teshigahara Hiroshi. The

director o'f Womur irr llte Dttrtas visits the best

krror,vn buildings of his favoLite architect, including

houses in Barcelona and its envirous ancl the

lanrous Sagrada Familia Cathedral, With a score by

Takemitsu Tolu. 45 mins. D\D, New YorkeL F'ihns.

Auberge i Tokyo, Une. See htrt in fok.l'z, An.

Auditioz (0dishon, 2000), N{iike Takashi. A video

producer finds the girl of his dLeams and it is a

nightrnare. He (lshiba.shi R1'o) holds a fake audition

for a neiv bLide. She (Eihi Shiina) holds a real

Itrdition for a uelv victim. N'laybe. Is it a dreanr or

isn't it? Little boy paLanoia about cleep,v girls. 115

nrins. DVD/\HS, \'eutura Distribution.

Autumn Aftem,oon, An (Sauuua uo aji, 1952),

Ozu YasujiLo. The last film of a great director.

Agaiu, aud more poignautlv th"rt evel', the farnilv

falls apart. Widower (Rvu Chishu) arlanges for his

loving claughteL (lwashita Shinra) to be nrarLied,

though it nrearts a lif'e of loneliuess foL hinr. Again,

au OzulNoda Kogo scLipt and lunrinous color

plrotographv b1' Atsuta Yttltaru. fn ttlilts. DyD,

I'anorama Entertainurent (Hong Kong).

Autumn of the Kohayagawa Fami,ly, The.

See htcl o.f'sitttrttrter, The.

Aualon (Abaron, 2000), Oshii NlauroLu. Though

just a "ganre" ntovie at heart, this real-life "ani-

rttation" is so beautifullv nrade and so astonishing

to watch that it leaves its genre far behind. Shot in

Poland, and in Polish (with English and Flench

titles), it is wonderfully'photographed by, GLzegorz

Kedzierski. 106 ntins. DVDAHS, X,liranrax Home

EnteLtainment.

265

B

Bad, Company (Mabudachi, 2001), Furumaya

Tomoyuki. A high-school student rebels against a

repressive school systern and asks us to make a

moral choice-his individuality is called delinquent

but the teacher's discipline is shown as authoritarian.

106 rnins. \tlS (Dutch titles), Tiger Releases, Holland.

Bad, Sleep Well, The (Warui yatsu hodo yoku

ltemLlru, aka A Rose in the Mud, 1950), Kurosawa

Akira. A finely made melodrarla, highly critical of

the ties between big business and government, witlr

Mifune Toshiro in the Hamlet-like role of the nan

who must avenge his murdered father. Mori Masa-

yuki is the Claudius-like boss and Kagawa Kyoko is

the 0phelia-like crippled daughter. 151 mins. DVD/

VHS, Home Vision Entertaiurnent.

B al I ad, of l{ aray ama (N ar

^y arTia b us h i ko, 1 9 5 8),

Kinoshita Keisr-rke. The first versiou (lmzrnura's

fihn in the following entrv was the second) of the

Fukazawa Shichiro novel about a village wheLe the

sous were by custorn forced to leave their aged par-

euts to the elements of Mount Narayama. Here Tanaka

Kinuyo is the detemrined rlother and Takahashi Teiji

is the reluctaut son. The director preseuts his storv in

quasi-kabuki fashion with levolving scenery, tableaux

and a traditional score. Ig#1, !8 mins. \HS, Kino.

Ballad, of Narayaffia, The (Narayama bushiko,

1983), Imaruura Shohei. The secoud version of the

Fukuzawa Shichiro novel about life in the village

where the aged are taken to Monnt Narayaura to die.

(The first was Kinoshita Keisuke's versiou in the

above entry.) Inamnra's is the rnore realistic, witlr

266

Sakarnoto Sumiko doing her preparations with

dispatch and some humor, and }gata Ken as the

unwilling son. Cannes, Grand Prix; Japan Academy

Alvard, Best Film. 130 mins. \'HS, Home Vision

Eutertainment.

Battle Royale (Batoru rowaiaru, 2000), Fukasaku

Kinji. The govenment, tired of juvenile delinquency,

rounds up the kids and orden them to kill each

otlrer. This they do at great length and in full detail.

Grim and eamest, it sports a few irouic touches, one

of which is having Kitano Takeshi as the honre-roon

teacher. There is a "director's cLlt" version (2001)

and a Buttle Rol,ule If Q00il as well. 113 mins.

DVD/ \'HS, Tartan (Uti)

Battles Without Honor and Hamanity

flingi naki tatakai, aka The Yakuza Papers , 1973),

Fukasaku Kinji. The first of a ntulti-part series

devoted to chivalrous yakuza and their honor-bound

way of life, as coutrasted to the smnl'mv wa\/s of the

common crirrinal. 99 mins. DVD, Home Vision

Entertaiument.

Being Two Isn't Easy (Watashi wa nisai, 1962),

Ichikawa Kon. A coult de cinrinta, tl'rc whole movie

seen from the viewpoint of a two-year-old. It is he

whorn we hear on voice-over and through whom we

learn that the ways of adults are strzurge indeed.

The bemused parents are Yamamoto Fujiko and

Funakoshi Eiji. The script is by Wada Natto. h]#l. 88

mins. VHS, Home Vision Entertainnrent.

Black lizard (Kuro tokage, 1968), l'ukasaku Kinji.

Mishima Yukio adapted this Edogawa Ranpo story

and Narusawa Masashige wrote it up. It stars trans-

vestite Miwa AkihiLo, with a bit part for Mishima

himself. It could have been a lot campier than it is.

Fukasaku did uot know he was creating a cult

classic. 86 rnins. VHS, Facets Multimedia (0P).

Blaak Rain (Kuroi ame, 1989), huzunura Shohei.

After the atom bomb, the black rAin, and after that,

radiation sickness. LnamuLa's version of Ibuse

Masuji's fanolrs novel about the HiLoshima disaster

is nrade with warmth, sincerity and compassion. Irr

sober black-and-white and with a Takemitsu Toru

score. Cannes, Critic's Prize; JapanAcademy Award,

Best Film; KJ#l . 123 mins. DVD/VHS, Image Enter-

tainment.

Boiling Point (San tai yon ekkusu jugatsu,

1990), Kitano Takeshi. Baseball teammates go to

Okinawa to buy guus to avenge a murdered coach

but fall into the hands of psychopathic yakuza.

Kitano Takeshi plays himself (pop media idol, Beat

Takeshi), and the cast includes people with names

like Bengal and Johnny 0kura. 98 mins. DVD/VHS,

Fox Lorber.

Bom Fighter, The. See Elegl' to Violmce,

Branded, to Kill (Koroshi no rakuin, 196n,

Suzuki Seijun. fui iuventive and ultimately anarchic

take on gangster thrillers. Guryu Hachiro's script

flounders midway and Suzuki tries on the bizarre

for its own sake. All very interesting but the com-

pany didn't think so. This is the fihl that got Suzuki

fired. 91 mins. D\D/VHS, Criterion.

Baild-up, The. See Giurtts nncl Tol,s,

Burmese Harp, The. See HaQ of Burmo, The.

c

Charisma (Karisurla, 199il, Kurosawa Kiyoshi.

A large tree seems to be sucking life fron the forest.

Which is most important-the individual or

society? This problern is not solved but obliterated

by all the graphic violence at the end. With Yakusho

Koji. 103 mins. DVD (English titles), King Records

(Hong Kong).

Chikamatsu MonogatAri. See Stor.l, .frorn

Chikunttrtsu, A.

Childrm of Hiroshi,ma (Gernbaku no ko, 1952),

Shindo Kaneto. Otowa Nobuko as the yolurg teacher

who takes care of the homeless young after the

bombing of Hiroshirna, iVlore broadly humanistic

than narrowly political. 97 mins. DVD (English

titles), Asrnik Ace (fapan).

Chusbingara (akaThe Loyal Forty-Seven Ronin,

aka Forty-Seven Samurai, 1962), Inagaki Hiroshi.

Tlre most lavish of the many scrcen adaptations of

the famous kabuki classic. This one, here fomratted

as a twolart venion, contains all the fanous scenes

but takes for granted a certairt acquaintance witlt

the story line. fui all-star cast with a new subplot for

Mifune. 204 mins. DVD/VHS, Image Entertainment.

(See also: Lo1'67 Forty-Set'en Rortitt, Tbe.)

Conflagration (aka Enjo , akaFlante of Toment,

aka The Terlple of the Golden Pavilion, 1958),

Ichikawa Kon. Yukio Mishima's Tlte Tetnple oJ the

Goltlen Pcu,ilion (scripted by Wada Natto and Hasebe

Keiji) becomes the finest of Ichikawa's literary adap-

tations. A young monk destroys that which he most

loves by setting fire to Kinkakuji, the Golden

P avi I ion. With action-hero Ichikaw a Rarzo splendid

as the inarticulate priest, extraordinary black-and-

white widescreen photography by Miyagawa Kazuo,

and a fine score by Mayuzuuti Toshiro. !8 mins.

\HS, New Yorker F'ilms.

\

Crazed Fruit (Kurutta kajitsu, aka Affair at

Kanrakura, akaJuvenile Passion, aka This Scorch-

irrg Sea, 1956), Nakahira Ko. One of the seminal

267

filnrs of the fifties, a lvell-nurde atnrospheric picture

which gave respectabilih'to the taivozoku flanring-

vouth gerrre 0lder arrcl \,ounger brother (lshihara

Yujiro and Tsugalva Nllusahiko) aLe both irrvolved

lvith the sume girl (Kitzilrara trlie) lvith dislustrotn

results. Takenrilsu ToLu's first filnr scoLe as well. 8(r

nrins, DVD, CriteLion.

Crazy Page,. . See Prrge Arl o.l')rzlet', A,

Crdpuscule d Tokyo. See 7b[.r'o Tu'ilighl.

Crucffied Louers, The. See .tlolt' .fi'otrt (,lbifut-

tttrtlstt. A.

Cruel Story of Yottth (Seishun zankoku nr0n0-

gutari, aka CLuel Tales of Youth, 1960), Oshinra

Nrtgisa, A teeuage tough pirnps his girl frierrd therr

extlztcts clough flonr the nriddle-aged buveLs. Shot

through with Oshinra's sonrehow sentinrental

nihilisnr. With Kawazu Yusuke ancl Kulvano Ifivuki

as pirnp uncl procluct. 95 nrins. \'HS, Nelv Yorker

F'ihns,

Cure (Kt'ult, 1997), KuLosalva Kivoshi Pop gothic-

hon'ol hit. Detective Yukusho Koii is bzrfflecl b1'

spuced-out purrk HagilvuLu Illnato's seerninglr

irrzttional llowers, which include nrincl control, and

nutking nrurclereLs of the iunocent. 111 rnirrs. DVD.

Honre Visiorr Entertairrnrent.

F'oreign l-ihn. Original, 141 rnins; LIS veLsion, 137

nrins. D\D, Kino hrternational. Nso aualt'lol?hic veL-

siorr, (Russian arrd English titles), Ruscico (Russia),

Disir Meurtrier. See lrtlerrliorrs of ,lltttler.

Diary of Chuji's Traaels, A (Chuii tubi nikki,

I9J7), Ito Daisuke. One of the ruost fanrous filnrs of

the twenties. A f'er,v segnrents ure included on the

CD-ROIl, "Ila"steqrieces of Japunese Silent Cinenlr,"

which contztirts excerpts ftont fortr'-iive other silent

.frpurtese pictures. CD-ROIl (Wirrdor,vs onlr'), Ilrbalr

Connections, Inc,, (Jlqtan).

Distance (Disutlu'lsu, 2001 ), Kore'eda Hirokuzu.

A nri'sterious ancl porvertul eleg'centered lu'ouncl four

people who are lanrilv of nrenrbets of a religious

cult killecl fbL lutving attenrpted genocide \Vhen the

four visit the scene of the tragecli,, their crr goes

nu'steriouslr nrissing, ancl fhev are forced to spend

the night 16+ lnins. DVD (linglish titles), Bandai

Visrurl (Julxur).

D

Daylight Demoz. See l'iolurce trl Atoort,

DeathJapflnese Style. See Furtet'ul, Tlrc.

Dentier Caprice. See htil o.f'Strtrrtnet', Tlte,

Dersu Uzala 0975), Kurosawa Akira. Based ou

Vladinrir Arseniev's zrccounts of earlv exploration in

Siberia (urnongst the director's lavorite books) this

fihu shows hoiv Arseniev encounteLed l)ersu. child

of rtztture, intrepid huntet and noble suvltge. Fihned

rnuirtlt'ort location in Rttssia Acadenrt'An'lucl, Best

26ti

Dodes'ha-den ( 1970), Kurosala Akira. A clecom-

tive, highlv coloLed slice-of-lif'e senred in a contenr-

poriul'Tokvo slunr. \'arious churacters interact witlr

otheLs to indicate that though lif'e is certainlv difTi-

cult. it is none the less lvorth living. Kurosalva's first

color lilnr. nrusic lli'Takenritsu Toru 140 nrins, \HS.

Honre Vision Iintertainnrent

Double Suicidc (Shinju ten no anrijimlr, 1959),

Shinoda Mzuahiro. The Tomioka Taeko script, retain-

ing the plot of the Chikanratsu oligiual, also preserves

the couveutions of the bnuraku puppet theater for

which the play was oLiginally written. The ston,

revolves around a manied merchaut's iufatua-

tion with a geisha. The Lesult (actoLs attended b1,

puppeteers) lends 2r fatalistic conrpzrssiou which

nruch benefits the filnr. With kabuki actor NakamuLa

Kichientou, aud Iwashita Shinta in the double role

of wife and courtesau. N{usic by Takenritsu Toru.

KJ#1 103 nrins. DVDA,HS, Criterion,

Dreams (Yume, aka Akira Kurosawa's DreAuts,

1990), Kurosawa Akira. Eight episodes based on

dreams of the directoL: a foxes' wedding, the atonric

end of Japan, a nteeting with van Gogh (Martin

Scorsese), and five others. Lots of fantasy and special

efTects, coupled with the moral uressage that we ought

to be uicer to each otheL. Kurosarwa ureets SpielbeLg.

11! mins. D\,DAHS, Waruel Houre Video,

Drifting Weeds. See Floulitry Weeds.

Dru,nken Angel (\oidore tenshi, 1948), Kurosawa

Akira. The angel of the title is a doctor (Shirnura

Takashi) who believes in healing, yet caunot stop

drinking. funong those he tries [o save is a death-

obsessed gangster (N{ifune Toshiro). The fiLst of

Kurosawa's nroralilv pla.vs and a brilliant evoczrtiorr

of postwar Tolc'0. KJ#1 98 mins. VHS, Home Vision

Erttertaiumeut.

E

Early Spring (Soshun, 1956) Ozu Yasujiro. A

nine-to-five officer worker (lkebe Ryo) is dissatisfied

with both his job and his wif'e (Awashima Chikage).

He hm a fling with the office flirt (Kishi Keiko) but

everltuall)' takes a provitlcial post and decides to

start over again with his wif'e. I.'illed with character

insight and inrplicit social criticism. 144 mins. DVD

CLiterion.

Enrly Summer (Bakushu, 1951), Ozu Yasr,rjiro.

One of the director's finest films-the .fapanese

farnilv slowlv, beautifully, inevitabll' falls apart.

Hara Setsuko is the daughter wlto leaves to luarn/,

Sugimura HaLuko is the grateful ntothel of the

groonr, and the Lest of the Ozu troupe (including

Rru Chishlr us the disapproving elder brotheL) have

never been better. KJ#l 115 nrins. D\,D, Criteriou.

Eclair, I'. See Lighhrirrg.

Eijanaika (1981), Imantura Shohei. Celebrating

the anaLchv of the la-st days of the Tokugawa shogu-

nate, Imamura juggles a uunrber of plots, all of

which nremoLialize civil disobedience. N{oruoi Kaori

is the stLipper, pop-star Izumiva Shigenr is the recerrt

retulnee from the USA, ancl pLoduction designer

269

Satani Akiyoshi created the enormous Ryogoku

Bridge set and adjoining fairgrounds. Everything is

big, sprawling and vital. "What the hell!" as the title

says. 151 mins. DVD (English titles), Panorarna

(Hong Kong).

Eleglt to Violence (Kenka ereji, aka Fighting

Elegy, aka The Born Fighter, 1966), Suzuki Seijun.

In the militarist 1930s a student represses his urges

and turns fascist. Suzuki sees this as a comedy,

though a serious one. With a slvle lnore realistic than

usual, he and his scriptwriter, Shindo Kaneto, turn

growing up into social comment. With Takahashi

Hideki as the gland-gripped youth. 86 mins, DVD,

Criterion; VHS, Home Vision Entertainment.

Empire of Passion. See In the Ratlm of Paxrion.

Empire of the Senses. See In the Realm of the

Smses,

End, of Sumrner, The (Kohayagawa-ke no aki,

aka The Autumn of the Kohayagawa Farnily, aka

Dernier Caprice, 1961), Ozu Yasujiro. An older man,

alone but for his three daughters, decides to marry

his former mistress. This upsets the entire family, a

disturbance which is settled only by his death, With

Nakanrura Ganjiro , AratamaMichiyo, Hara Setsuko,

Tsukasa Yoko. 103 mins. DVD (French titles), Arte

Video (France).

Enj o. See ConJlagrati on .

Eareka (Yuriika, 2000), Aoyama Shinji. A bus hiiack

changes a number of lives, including that of driver

Yakusho Koii. A serial killer emerges and is eventu-

ally unmasked as one of the hijacked yoLlng. All of

this is told simply and unsensationally but at great

length. 217 mins. DVD/VHS, Artificial Eye (Ut<).

F

Face of Another, The (Tanin no kao, 1966),

Teshigahara Hiroshi. Abe Kobo fashioned the script

after lris novel, the story of antan who dons a life-

like mask after his face is horribly scarred in an

accident. Nakadai Tatsuya is the nan, Kyo Machiko

is the unsuspecting wife seduced by her masked

husband. Art direction is by Awazu Kiyoshi. Both

director and writers had akeady created Wontan,

in the Du,nes and s0 pure claustrophobia is an

intended and brilliantly attained result. 122 mins.

DVD (English Titles), Asmik Ace (fapan).

Family Garnc, Ihe (Kuoku gemu, 1983), Morita

Yoshimitsu. Mordant satire on the Japanese family.

To cram sonny into the right school, mun andpapa

hire a tutor (Matsuda Yusaku) with appalling results.

Consumerism, social status, filial devotion-allreceive hilarious treatment, culminating in a final

dinner which turns into a food fight. The original

manga-like novel by Honma Yohei was scripted for

film by Kobayashi Yoshinori and Morita himself.

Itami Juzo,later to become the celebrated director,

plays the awful father. Ig#1 Japan Acadeny Award,

Best Fihn. 107 mins. VHS, Circle Releasing/Sony (Ol1

Femme d,e Tokyo, Une.SeeWoman of Tokro.

Femrnes d,e la Nait, Ies. See Women oJ' the

Night.

Fighting Eleglt. See Eleg, to Vi,olence.

Fire Festiaal. See Himatsuri.

Fires on the Plain (Nobi, 195D, Ichikawa Kon.

The nrost powerful of Japanese antiwar films. Based

on the Ooka Shohei novel, scripted by Wada Natto,

this film tells the devastating story of a platoon lost

in the Philippines at the end of World War II. The

single survivor (Funakoshi Eiji) wanders the jungle

270

and finally finds what it is that sustains those fellow

soldiers he rneets, With impeccable photography by

Kobayashi Setsuo ard amoving score by Akutagawa

Yasushi. 105 rnins. VHS, Hone Vision Entertainment.

Fireworks. See Hana-bi,

Fiae Women around, Utamaro. See [Jtcunnro

and His Ffury Womm,

Flame of Torrnent. See Corflagration.

Flaaor of Green Tea or)er Rice, The (0cha-

zuke no aji, 1952), Ozu Yasujiro. A middle-aged,

nriddle-class couple experier)ce acrisis in their mar-

riage. Their routine lives have lost their rnearing. Both

atteurpt to change, and over a simple meal of green tea

over rice they begin to succeed 115 rnins. VHS (Eng-

lish titles), Panorarna Entertainrnent (Hong Kong).

Floating Weeds (Ukikusa , aka Drifting Weeds,

195D, Ozu Yasujiro. The head of a troupe of travel-

ing playen (kabuki actor Nakamura Ganjiro) retums

to the island where a former flarne (Sugirnura

Haruko), who is the mother of his sorr, waits for

him, His present companion (Kyo Machiko), jealous,

pays the ingenue (Wakao Ayako) to seduce the boy

(Kawaguchi Hiroshi). That is all there is to the story

and Ozu, who uever liked plot, has turned his tale

into a light idyll in which narrative parallels are

reflected in the superb color photography of Miya-

gawa Kazuo and the summer-tinted score of Saito

Iclriro. A "renake" 0f his 1934 Stor'1, of Floating

Weecls.l1! mins. DVD, Criterion.

Flowing (Nagarerll, 1955), Naruse Mikio. Based

0n a Koda Aya story, beautifully scripted by Tanaka

Sumie and lde Toshiro, this is one of the director's

finest filns. The story of the decline of a geisha

house in Tolryo's downtown, it displays the splendid

ensenrble talents of Japan's finest actresses: Yanada

Isnzn, Tanaka Kinuyo, Takarnine Hideko, and Sug-

imura Haruko. 117 mins. DVD, Criterion.

Focus (Fokasu, 1995), lsaka Satoshi. First-rate

mockuurentary, an iutrusive TV-tells-all progran

tlrat goes wrong. A fine script by Shin Kazuo and a

beautiful performance by Asano Tadanobu as the

nerd that tunm. 73 mins. DVD (English titles), ,{smik

Ace (fapan)

Forbid"d,ez. See Gohatto.

Forty-Seum Ronin, The. See Iny6s7 Forty-Swen

Ronin, The,

Forty-Seuen Samt rai. See Chusbingtn'a.

Frdre et Soeur. See )ldu' Brotber, YounS4u

Sister.

Funeral, Ihe (0soshiki , akaDeathJapanese Style,

1984), Itami Juzo. The director's first and finest

film-a satire on the passing of old Japan. The

bereaved no longer even know to hold a proper

funeral: they can't sit on the floor in the traditional

luranner, don't know how rnuch to pay the priest,

and have to watch a video to learn the etiquette.

Though often edged into farce by its large and lively

cast, the comic premise holds and it all coutes

together when, finally, with dignity and devotion,

death is itself addressed. KJ#l. Japan Academy

Award, Best Film .II4 mins. DVD/VHS, Fox Lorber.

G

Gate of Flesh, The (Nikutai n0 mon, 1954),

Suzuki Seijun. The rnost stylish of the various film

versions of this popular post-World War II play by

Tamura Taijiro about political togetherness among

prostitutes, a solidarity wrecked by love. Here the

271

ston/ is told with knowing melodranra ancl inteu-

tional aLtifice. Glaring color and over-the-top desigrr

support the antics of a lead whore (Nogawa Yunriko)

who just won't stop. !0 nrirrs. \HS, Houre Vision

Entertainnreut.

Gate of Hell, The Qigoku mon, 1953), Kinngiusa

Teinosuke. Weak Kikuchi Kan period plal' nade

into limp film with flaccid performances bv Hase-

gawa Kuuo and Kyo N{achiko as the lovem fbrbidden

to love. If anyone paicl attention to this filnr it was

because of Sugivama Kohei's superlative color

photogLztph\,, a qualiW which is ltot c'.rpturcd on tape.

85 mins. VHS, Home Vision Eutettaiuruertt.

Geisha,, (Gion ba,vruhi, aka Gion Festival N{usic,

195.1), Mizoguclti Kenji. Based on a Kawaguchi

N{atsutaro stor, scripted b1'Yoda Yoshikata, this film

tells tfte sad ston, of nvo geisha (Kogure ],lichivo

and Wakao A1,xli6) and their attenrpts at a better

lif'e. F'illed with sentinrent, rather than with senti-

nrentalitr,, the picture eanrs cor'rcenr-paLticulaLly

wheu even'thiug is so persuluivelv photogLaphed b1'

N1it'azawa Kazno, and the pelformauces are s0

perf'ect. 95 rnins. \HS, New YoLkeL Filnts (0P).

Ghost in the Shell, The $okaku kidotai, 1995),

82 nrins. Oshii Nlamoru. N{ore anime froru the

creators of Akiru-this one from a mauga bv Shiro

N{mamune. It is now 2029 and the c1'beLcop heroiue

chases after a villainous brain-hacker. Big special

effects, snrall plaLrsibility and little attention paid to

character. Beware of English-dubbed versiort. 83

mins. D\DA'HS, Mauga Video.

Giants and Toys (K.vojin to gangu, aka The

Build-Llp, 1958), N{mmura Yztsuzo. The building

up and tearing down of a voung televisiou "idol"

(Nozoe Hitonri) in the cut-thLoat world of entertairt-

ment. A bright script bv Shirasaka Yoshio based on

a Kaiko Ken uovel. 95 nrins. D\D, Fantoma

Gion Festiaal ilIusic. See Gersltu, A.

God,zilla, King of the Monsters (GojiLa,

1954), Honda Ishiro. The first appearance of Godzilla

272

who, like Tora-san, went 0n to nrlrke countless

sequels in which the lovabl),cheesv tt.tottster, in his

nrbber suit, carefullv steps on urodels of fanrous

cities. In this oue it is Tolq'o through which he cuts

his swath. The U.S,-r'eleased r,emiou deletes nruch and

adds Raynrond Burr. The success of this nronster

spawned others-Rodarr, N'{othLa, Ganrera, Daima-

jin, and s0 on-most of whom also made it to Eng-

lish-titled video but will not heLe be listed. 98 mins.

D\'D, Simitar Video (0P).

Gohatto (aka Taboo, aka Forbidden, 1999),

Oshima Nagisa. It is the end of the Edo period (ca.

1865) and the Shinsengunri 'crnn\', all militan

m'.rcho, is defending its lost canse lvhen in comes a

tuew, beautiful, willing sevettteen-1,ear-old LecLuit.

N{ilitarv forurations collapse in the face of passiou.

Lots of killing but lots of love-rttaking as well. 100

nrins. D\D/VHS, New Yorker F-ilnrs.

Goni,n (1995), Ishii Takzuhi. A group of arttateuts,

five in ill lqoniz), set out to take a lot of dough

from a yakuza outfit. fur inrplacable gluruuu (Kitano

Takeshi) is hired to gun them clowu, which he

does-one bv one. Gore galore. With Sato Koichi,

Naga-shima Toshivuki and l{otoki Nlasahiro. 109

nrius. D\D, Leo Filnrs.

Gonza the Spearunan (\'ari no Gonza, 1986),

Shinoda N{asahiro. The Chikanratsu plal' as scripted

b), Tontioka Taeko, tnacle into a visuallt' beautiful

filnr which shows both loLd ancl retainel caLlght in

theiL vengeful Loles. The handsonre Gonza is plal'ed

f1, pop-singer Go Hirorui, and the lorcl's spouse witlt

whom he falls in love bv Iwmhita Shinta, the diLec-

tor's wif'e. It is all ven,cllusv and refined and a little

slow. Berliu, SilveL BeaL. 126 mins. \HS, Kino.

Good Morning (0hru'0, 1959), Ozu Ylrsujiro. A

\/erl/ lulrusing setire on strbtrrtltn wrtvs. Two snrall

bovs rebel at the bluraliti' ("Good nroruing" ) of

adult snurll tulk Sonrething of un update of the

19.11 / ll:?rs Brtrtt, litrl this filrtt lun tlte boi's'

refusal [o sui good nroLning exposing just tliose

sociul gups u,hich such snurll tulk usrurllr bridges,

94 nrins [)\DA'HS, Criterion

H

Hana-b;f (rrku Fireri'olks, 1997). Kitano'l'ukeshi

Ot'er'-the-hill coll (Kituno) f'eels dreudftrl at hln,ing let

tkru,rr u police lluddv und ut the slrme tinre neglected

lt dr irrg ii'ife, He tobs lt bltnk to get sonre ntoner to

rultke lunencls, scnrlls out lt gtrng in the prucess, ancl

lut the conclusiort puts lt bullet both in her and irt

hinrseli. Kituno's uestlretic take on trendr anurcitv

hls here lrcen turrrecl into sonrethirrg like lur urt fonri.

K.f#i: \'ertice, (iolden l.ion 103 nrirrs l)\'t)A'HS, Ne\\'

\brker lrilrns.

Hnrukiri (Seppuku. 1962), Koltarrnhi llusuki

l'he finest of the tlirector's lihns. the storr' (lxnecl orr

a Takiguchi Yasuhiko novel, scripted bv Hashinroto

Shinobu) of a fornrel sanrulai (Nakaclai Tatsuvu)

i,vho avenges the cruel death (harakiri with a banr-

boo srvord) of his belovecl son-in-lrl (lshihunra

AkiLa). He succeeds but the reigning lolcl (N{ikuni

Rerrtaro) orclers hirn killeiland his ucls left unrecrlrcted.

Irr this wav the srununti code renltins enshrined.

Photographed bi' \livujinre Yoshio, nrusic bi'

Tukenritsu Toru, Curtnes, Speciul .furl Prize 135

rnins. I)\'D, Honre Vision Cinenlr.

Harp of Bunna, The. (lJirunra no tategoto, rrku

'['he Burntese Hltrl. 1956), Ichikail'lr Kon. ]'hc first

(und better) of Ichikari'u's tuo versiorrs oi the'l'uke-

\ lunlt ,\lichio novel A.f rqlunese soldier is sil sucldenecl

br the cenrxge of wul thut he sturs llehind to bulv

tlie deud Resolutelr lxtcifist. the filrtt nuuutges its

rnessxge ti,itltottt too rnttclt recourse to sentinrental-

itr, \enice, Slur Giorgio Prize: Acadenrr Arl'urcl, lJest

|oreign Irilnr ll6 nrins VHS, Honre Vision F)tter-

tltirrnrent,

Herringbone Clouds. See ,\laiil ttct' (,'lottrls.

Hidden Fortress, The (Kukuslii torrde lro sul

Itkurrirr. I958). Kurnslni,u Akinr, A delightfirl parrxlv rlrr

the ordinurl'sunrlllui filnr. n'ith u clethronecl llrirrcess,

hidden gold. hr,o greedr peluurts, lur intpossiblv

hernic hero (\lifune 'loshirn) und lots oi sivor{plur.

A liortilerful iirutle \\'hele-joined br urr ershi'hile

enenr\ (L'ujitlt Susunru), ltncl uided llv the rxutrinli,

roving canrenr of Yzuuazltki Kazuo and the exhilu-

nttirtg score of Sato \l'rs11111-gold, horses uncl cltst

gullop to freeclonr Berlin, ttest Director und Inter-

nutionltl CLitics' Prizes. 139 nrins l)\'D, Criterirln

27.1

High and, Iow (Tengoku to jigoku, 195T, Kllro-

sawa Akira. A morali['play in the fomr of a thriller-written by Kurosawa aud others after the Ed il'lcBain

novel, Kirtg's Rnttsonl. A self-made urau (Mifune

Toshiro) is mined by a jealous uobody (Yamazaki

Tsutonru in his first inrportant screen Lole) but goes

ou to do the right thing aud iu the end the cantera

observes nlore similarities than differences. With

a menorable mid-filnr climax on a high-speed

bullet train. 143 mins. DVD, CLiteLion.

Himatsuri (tkt Fire F'estival, 1985), \'anaginrachi

N,litsuo. A stLong Nakaganri Kenji novel urade into

an equally,powerful fihr. A nrodeLn macho lunrber-

nrau faces vengeful uature-but such a one-line

prdcis cannot begin to conrmunicate the ertormolls

potency of the film. With luminous photographv b.v

Tzuuurar Masaki, a ravishing score by Takenritsn

TorLr, Kitaoji Kinya as the lumbennan aud Nakamoto

R),ota as his shiftl'sidekick. Locarno, Silver Leopard.

120 mins, \HS, Kino.

History of PostwarJapan As Told, fui a BarHostess, ,4 (Nippon sengo-shi: Madamu Onboro

no seikatsu, aka Histoire du Japon Racontde par

274

Lure H6tesse de Bar, 1970), ImArnura Shohei. A

rylendidli irouic docurnentan, which cuts through

the cant and gives us N{adarn 0mboLo's version of

World War II and the resLrlting occupation. Accepted

truths blasted and maury holy cows put out topasture. 105 ntins. \HS (F'r'ench subtitles), Fihus sarn

Frontibrcs (France).

Hole, The. See )ribubt.

Human Conditi,on, The (Ningen no jokeu,

1958-51), Kobava-shi il{asaki. Long, powerful anti-

wlu' tLilogv lvlitten b.v l{atsuvanra Zenzo and

Kobavzuhi after the Gornikawa Junpei novel. It is

1943 and an idealistic young inspector (Nakadai

Tatsuva) is sent by his conrpaltv to report on the

nriues of N'lanchuria, He finds the exploitation of

the workers extrenre. conplains, and is punished.

DLafted, he discovers the Japauese anny to be even

wone Extrenrelr, cLitical oi authoritarian mentalitl,,

the fihn becanre orre of Japan's nrost controver-

sial-over uiue hours inside the militan' nrind

Tlre three parts of the filnr are given the titles of lVo

Greuler Llre200 nrins., (Venice, San Giorgio Prize);

Tbe llourl lo Eterrtilt', 180 nrins.: and A Siolclier's

Prut.l'er, 190 nrins. D\D, Iruage, Erttertainnrent

Humanity and Paper Balloons (Ninjo kanri-

fnsen, 1937), Yanvuutka Sadao. One of the great

Japanese films-N'limuLa Shintaro's adaptation of

a Kawatake il4okuzuli kabuki play,, in which sorne-

thing like the true lif'e of the people under the Toku-

gawa reginre is Levealed. Yamauaka (in this, his lrut

film) illuminates his claustrophobic theme through

a constructiou where the spatial concerns echo the

neecls of the story', 86 nrins. D\D, CLiteLion.

I

I liae in Fear. See Reconl of a Lit'irtg Being, TIn.

I Was Bom,, But. . . (LJlnarete wa rttita keredo,

aka Gosses de Tolryo, 1932),Ozn Yzuujiro, fui early

masterpiece. Two little boys begin to grow Lrp

when the,v learn something of the ways of the

adult world. Why can't they beat Lrp their father's

boss's kid when they are strouger? thet, ask. A veLy

anrusing comedy and at the sanre tinte the daLk-

est of social cornmeutaries, the pictuLe is both

fuunv and devzrstating. A silent filn with dia-

logue titles. KJ#1 !1 nrins. D\D (French titles), tute

Video (France).

Welt) as Prirrce Myshkin, and in watching all the

rest (Mifune Toshiro, Hara Setsuko) overact. 165 nrins.

DVD (English titles), PAnorAura Entertainment

(Hong Kong).

Ihiru, (1952), Knrosawa Akira. A city govemment

bnrean chief leaLus he has caucer, will not live long,

and realizes that he hms dorte nothing with his lif'e,

He sets out in his last months to acconrplish sonle-

thing-to build a local park. This anecdote beconres

an el'ronnouslv moviug saga as we fbllow this rnodern

pilgrim through his progress, t0 a final achievemeut.

It is simultaneouslv an existential exploratiou (nran

is solel,v what he does) and a devastating indictmenl

of buLeaucrac)'. KJ#l, Berliu, SilveL BeaL. 143 mins.

D\D, CLiteriou.

Id,iot, The (Hakuchi ,1951), Kurosawa Akira. The

directoL adapts his favorite novelist, Dostoevsky.

St. Petersburg becomes uroderu Hokkaido, aud the

Rttssiaus becorne provincial Japanese. A wildll'

Lureveu fihn to begin with, it was ftrrther damaged bv

the fact that Shochiku cut its running time nearlv

in half prioL to its release. Still there is a certain

chann in seeing Mori il4asayuki (noblenan in

Rrtsltonton, companv president in The Bud Sleelt

In the Realm of Passion (Ai no boLei, aker

Ernpire of Passion, 1978), Oshima Nagisa. A riclshaw

driveL is nrurdered by his wife and her ex-soldieL

lover. They are haunted by their crime and finally

pay tor their prusion. A film uot to be compared to

tlre nragisterial h the Realm o.l'the Jezses (1975),

though Oshima's scom for authority here reaches

similar heights. With F'uji Tatsuya, last seen bleed-

ing on the mattress iu the 1975 film. Canues, Best

Director AwaLd. 105 mins. \HS/D\D, Fox Lorber.

In the Realm of the Senses (Ai no korida, aka

Empire of the Senses, aka The Realur of the Senses,

1976), 0shina Nergisa. Based 0n A real1936 occlu'-

rence, a couple lose themselves in each other with

euourously erotic resr,rlts. Though banued as obscene

in bothJapan (where it still cannot be shown Lurceu-

sored) and, irtitialll', s1t.*ltere, the filnt is really a

serious study of possessive love and is uot in the least

275

ponrogrtphic. With Ilutsuda Eiko and Fuji Tutsuvu.

100 nrins D\DAHS. For Lorber

Inferno of First loue, The (Hrrtsukoi iigoku-

hen. uka Nauauti: First Lor,e, 1968). Hani Susurnu,

One of the senrinal filnrs of the sirties l'enu'anlu

ShLrji's script about innocence in a tinre of cor'-

rulltion, is beautifLrllv reltlizecl bv Hani at his urost

cklcunrentarr'-like. lbkvo's Shinjuku nightspots huve

nevel been nlore flncinutinglv displuved, ancl anra-

teurs'l'ukaha.shi Akio und Ishii Ktutiko us the \'oung

lot'els are consun'lnlttelv directed 'lhe originll

lerrgth is 107 nrins. l'his LIS Lelease. holever, hucks

the iihn ubout. \HS, New \brk Filnr furner (0P).

Inn in Tokyo, tr17 (Tokro no rzulo, akrt LIne

Aullelge ).t Tokvo. 1935) Ozu Yasujiro. A beautifullr

observed filnr aboLrt a tlansierrt nuur and his trvo

\oung sorts finclirrg conrpanionship ii'ith a i,i'iilon

artcl lter little giLl. \Vith Sakanroto Tukeshi zurd Okudu

Yoshiko 80 ntirrs. \'HS (French titles), Cind Horizon

(Fnurce)

Insect Voman, The (Nippon konchuki, 1961).

Irnlununt Shohei. Superlative sltl{u oi u poor coun-

trl wonltn ivho sets out to conc;trer the r,lrrrld on its

oli,'rr tcrnrs, \Vith lrlI the cleternrirurtiorr uncl energr

ol the rurt seen in the opening sequence, she suc-

ceeds irt rnuteriullv bettering herself though het

nreuns ule whoring, pinrping und blucknrailing A

jovous urrcl affirnrilrg filnr (u'r'itten lr)' Inrrnrunt

lurrcl Hluelrc Keiji) ri'ith Hiduri Suchiko tnurscenderrt

lus the hernine K.l#l llerlirr. Best Actress, ll3 nrins

DVDA'HS, (bnnoisseur ( [IK).

Intentions of Murder (Akld sutsui, uklt }luLder-

ous l)esire, aku Unholr l)esire. uku l)dsir Ileurtrier.

196+). Inuuuuut Shohei A skxl'. llur, but ver'\

cletenrrined lvife gets her o\\'n \\'tr\': she outlives her

ntpist. legitinrizes her son. und tliunrphs over her

crecp\ husbuncl. A deep. bluck, glorious fihn \\'ritterr

lr) Inr:unulu uncl Hlnebe Keiji ufter the l'uiiri'unr

Shinji rlrvel. 150 nrins. \'HS (Ilrerrch titles). Filnrs

sarrs Frurttieres ( Fnurce)

Island, The. See tYrrkarl lslrtrttl, 'l'ltc.

276

J

Japanese Tragedy, A (Nihon no higeki, 1953),

Kinoshitu Keisuke A nurther irr wartinreJlqxut strives

to ntise her child. onlv to lrc nret u'ith inclifference ancl

ingnrtitude. l'he nlrscent sentinrentliliti oi the thenre

is offset lr) the neo-reulisnr of the filnting, the

inclusiorr of ltctual rvzrrtinre ancl poshi'ar footltge,

artcl the perfirrnrance of llochizuki Yukcl zrs the

rnother, ll6 nrins [)\'l) (h)nglish titles). Parrorrnra

F,ntertainnrent ( Hons Korrg).

Joy Girls. See ,\i/rn'.1'r1f rt l)trxli/trle.

Jud,o Saga, See ,\ill.r/ttrrt ,\itt,qtt\rt,

Juuenile Psssioz. See (,'t'rt..erl l'-t'tttl.

K

Kagemusha (1980), Kutosu'ni'a Akirt A thief is

spurecl if he rvill irnllersonute u ii'urlorcl 'l'he lutter'

has been killed but the enenl\ still hus to be firoled

l,ots of production values uncl u greut finul battle llut

the thief's rolc ri'us ri'r'itten fot Kutsu Sltintltro. lurd

Nuklului Tutsur u, ri,ho stepped in. is nriscust In uddi-

tion. Kur)slr\\'u hlul so nruch tinre (no initiul funclirrg)

thltt he pledesigned urtd color coorclirutted iust ullout

everlthing, lenrling u cc,rtltin stltginess to the pLoduc-

tion. Cunnes, (luurcl Plix. lli() nrins. D\1). Critelion

Key, The. See %ltl olxessirnr.

Ku,sidnz (Klricllur, 1965), Kobuvu^shi Ila^suki. f'our

ol the stories ivhich Llf'cudio Hearn uriginullt' tnur-

scLibed are here scriptecl bv Xlizuki Yoko ancl

dilected foL all their aesthetic worth b1' Kobay'ashi.

Gorgeous pageant-like entertaiunrent, all of it

paper thin. Cinenratographer N'livajinra Yoshio ancl

art directoL Toda Shigenurst aruurge foL a bril-

liunt nuvul buttle in the thiul ston'. for which

Tekenritsu ToLu rvrote his nou,fluuous ltiu'rt (lute)

score. Cannes, Specilil Jun' Prize. 164 nrius. DVD,

CLiterion,

Iate Spring (Brutsltun, 1949), Ozu Yasujiro A

daughter lives rvith her widorved father, He wauts

lrer to liave u lif'e of her owu aucl get nrarried. She

wauts to stav and look after hinr. That is all theLe is

to the stou', but the sad undeLstanding ancl Ligorous

beautv showu in this film nrake it unfoLgettable.

Scripted bv Ozu rurd Noda Kogo after a novel bi'

HiLotsu Kazuo. with Ri'u Chishu a^s the father lurd

HaLa Setsuko as the daughteL KJ#1 108 rnins D\1),

Criterion. \HS, New Yorkel Fihns.

\

L

Indy Mu,sashino (l\lusashino lujin, aka The

Lacli' of Xlusashino, 1951), \lizogLrchi Kenji, tlinoL

\lizoguchi but eleguutlv clone. A Yoda Yoshikatlr

script crfted fronr irn 0oklr Sliohei novel, rvitlr

'l'unuku Kirruvo irr the leading role. Sti ntins. D\'[),

ALtiiicial live (ttK)

Inte Autumn (Akibivori, 1960). Ozu Yasujiro. A

cluughteL is leluctant to leuve her ividoivecl nrother,

everr though it is tinre for her [o nluu. The ston'

coLrld lle seetl rN a "tetttltke" o'i Lrtla.lrl'lllg-altdthougli nrore autunrnal, it is just as nulving. Hlua

Setsuko plavs the nrother ancl Tsukusu Yoko is the

duughter. l15 nrins, DVD (F)nglish titles), Puuoranrzr

F}rtertainnrent ( Hong Kong)

Iate Chtysanthemunls (Bangiku, 195+), Nartne

Ilikio. A fine adlqitrtiorr oi sevenrl Hur lnhi FLrntiko

stoLies (scripted br Tarruklr Suniie uncl Ide Toshiro)

about nriddle-aged geishu facing an uncertain future.

tselurtiful peLforntances br Sugintunr HaLuko,

Ilochizuki Yuko, Hosokalvu Chikako uncl Sali'ullurA

Sadako. Cannes, SpecialJun Prize 101 ntins. \'HS,

\\Iorld Artists

hfe of Oharu, The (Saikrftu ichidai orrnu, aku

Lif'e of a Wonrur bv Suikaku, 1952), Ilizoguchi Ken ji

Based on a picaresqlle novel bv the seventeenth-cen-

tuLv ivriter SaikukLr, the fihn takes a llore serious

vierv of the decline ancl fall of the heroine fLonr

court ladv to colllnron nhole. \bdu \oshikuta's

script. Tanltka KinLu'o's perfonnaltce tN 0huru,

Ilizutani Hirnshi's alt direction und Slrito Ichiro's

\cofe-using Japanese instrunrents-help nurke

this clne of llizoguchi's nrost elegant filnts Venice,

hitetnational Prize. 0riginullr', 148 nrins. ITS ver-

sion. ljj nrirrs D\D, ALtificilil Ere (UK):\'HS, Honte

\ ision Entertainnrent.

Iightning (hiuzunra. akt L'Eclair, l95l). Nanrse

Ilikio. fur uuhappv \'oultg bus cc-ruductoL (Taklunine

Hideko) rnakes u new fanrilv for herself irr this

Tanaka Surnie scLipted l'etsion of a Havashi F'urtriko

ston'. 87 nrins. \'HS (l'Lench titles), l,es Fihns de IlaVie (France),

Lou,er Depths, The (Donzoko , 1957 ), Kurosalvlr

AkiLa Gorkr"s farnous plav nrovecl to an Eclo slunt.

its hunranist nressage enlarged lurd its nteloclralt]a

nrutecl bv a renrarkable ensenrble perfoLnrance front

277

the large cast-N{ifune Toshiro, Yamada Isuzn,

Nakamura Ganjiro, Kagawa Kvoko, Hidari Bokuzen,

and others. Sato N{asaru's "lnllsic" (all of it made

b1'the actors) is extraordinaLil,v right. 137 ntins. D\D,

Criterion.

Ioyal Forty-Seuen Ronin, The (Genroku

chrrshirrgura, Aka The F-orlv-Seveu Ronin, 1941-2),

Mizoguchi Kenji. This two-part version of the kabuki

classic is based 0n a wartine reworkiug by N4avama

Seika. The slow dignih'of the filnt is much aided b1'

the sober aesthetics of the presentation and the

gravi6'of the cast: Kawariuaki ChojuLo, Nakantura

Gan'enton, Ichikawa Lltaemon. Statelv canrerarvork

bv Sugiyama Kohei and a grave score bv F'ukai

Shiro. 111 mins ./106 mins. D\D, hlage Entertain-

rrent. (See also: Chnltilryuru.)

M

Maboroshi (Maboroshi no hikari ,199), Kore'eda

Hirokzu. A deeplv troubled ,vouug womAn (Esurli

Makiko) f'ears that she brings death. She hru lost

her gLandmother aud then, to suicide, her husbaud.

Though she has happil,v remalried she rcurains afraid.

HeL fear is explored with extraordinary/ tact and her

deqlair is rcdeerned thlough understanding. Nlivamoto

Teru's novel, finelv scripted b,v 0gita loshihisa, is

perfectly directed by Kore'eda in this, his first feature

film. 10! mins. DVD/VHS, New Yorker Fihns.

Madadayo (aka Not Yet, 1993), Kurosawa Akira.

The rnaster"s last filnr, a tribute t0 Llchida Hvakken,

a Japanese X,lr. Chips, who gathers his adoring stu-

deuts about him for au alltual party. Nostalgic and

sometimes maudlin, it is acted out bv such remain-

ing Knlosawa favorites as Kagawa Kvoko and

X'latsunura Tatsuo . 134 nrins. D\DAHS, Wellspring.

Mademoiselle Oyu. See /ftr'.r O.)'tt.

Makioha Sisters, The (Sasame yuki, 1983),

Ichikawa Kon. The third fihn version of the

Tanizaki novel and uo better than the others. The

original plot is hacked out of shape bv Hidaka

Shinya and Ichikawa himself, and the holes are filled

with cherrv blossours. Also something of a kimono

show, it features urodel-erctresses Sakuma Yoshiko,

Yoshinaga Sal'ttri, apd Kotegawa |ttko. 140 nrins.

\,TIS, MCA-LTn iversal.

Man Blown by the Wind,, A. SeeAfi'uicl to Die.

Manji (aka All N{ixed LIp, aka Passion, 1964),

Masumura Ymuzo. The Tanizaki uovel about a

thtee-corneLed love affair (husband, wife, another

womzur-Funakoshi Eiji, Kishida Kvoko, Wakao

Al,ako) Lendered fairly faithfully in Shindo Kaneto's

script with lots of love sceues intinratell' arranged by

directoL Masumura. 90 mins. DVD, Fantoma.

Max, Mon Amour (1937), Oshima Nagisa.

Though often deemed a flop, this filnr is actually

a wonderfullv outrageous farce. MarLied Charlotte

Rampling falls in love with a large chimpanzee, Aud

both 0shima and scriptwLiter Jean-Claude Carridre

gleeftrlly subvert bourgeois pretensions and extend

Oshima's anarchic ambitions. Whv did vou choose

hint? asls the husband. To which Rampling replies,

iu the cultured tones of the boulevard-comddie

tradition: "He chose tne." 98 mins. DVD, Cinema

Club

27,3

Men Who Tread on the Tiger's Tail, The.

See Thq' Who Stelt on the Ti,.ger's Tail.

Merry Christma,s, Mr. Iawrence (Senjo lto

meri kurisumasu, 1983), 0shitua Nagisa. One of

Japan's few accounts of its owu POW callps. David

Bowie is horribly disciplined, Sakauroto Ryuichi falls

in love with him, And Kitano Takeshi gives us the

final line. Through it all 0shima continnes explor-

ing his rnajor theme of social constructions (like

arrnies) undernined by love.I22 mitts. \TIS, fulisan

Entertainment.

Minho or the Gentle Art of JapaneseExtortion (Mimbo n0 onlta, 1992), Itatui Juzo.

In this courageous comedy, Itarui takes on the Japa-

nese rnafia-not the gentle knights of the yaktrza

film but the horrible real thing. Miyarnoto Nobuko

is the lawyer who gets rid of these truly bad baddies.

Itami's take ort tlteut is that tltev are manga-like

clowus, but dangerolls ones. It wru to this that the

real yakuza nost objected and the,v consequently

hacked up the director. 125 rnins. VHS, Hotue Vision

Entertainrnent.

MLss Oyu (Oyu-sama, aka M'aderloiselle Oyu, 1951),

Mizoguchi Kenji. Based ott Tauizaki's I93Z uovel

Ashikrri, scripted by Yoda Yoshikata, aud tueticu-

lously photographed by MiyagawaKazuo, but it is

really a showcase for Tanaka Kinuyo. 95 nins. VHS

(French subtitles), Les Filrls de Ma Vie (France).

Mistress, The (Gan, aka Wild Geese, 195il,

Toyoda Shiro. Narusawa Masashige's beautiful

adaptation of the X{ori 0gai uovel about a yoLlng

woman who, forced to be the rnistress of a noltey-

lender, falls in love with an idealistic student. Miura

Mitsuo's photography nflects the elegiac days of the

late Meiji period when the old ways were falling

away. Takamine Hideko as the pathetic heroine. 104

mins. VHS, Janus Films.

Miyamoto Musasld. See Sarntrcri.

Most Beaatiful, The (lchiban utsukushiku,

1944), Kurosawa Akira. An "everyday docunentary"

abor-rt a group of women giving their all as they

rnake optical instruurertts for the war effort. Though

the director had no control over the script, he did

his best to create a group of real characten. Witlt

Shimura Takashi and Irie Takako. 86 mins. DVD

(English titles), Mei Ah (Hong Kong).

ilI/Other (Enu-t'naza, 199il, Suwa Nobuhiro. A

divorced man brings his son back to live with him

and his girlfriend. Filmed without a script, the

dialogue arrived at by director and actors, it has

a spontaneity that would not be possible in a

scripted filn. 147 mins. DVD (French titles), Afie

Video (France).

Mother (Okiuan, 1952), NAruse Mikio. Based olt a

girl's prize-winning school essay on the subject of

"My Mother," Mizuki Yoko fashioned oue of her

rurost moving scripts. Upon the death of her husband

the mother (Tanaka Kinuyo) rults the farnily

lauudry by herself. She is he[ed by her first daugh-

ter (Kagawa Kyoko) but must seud her secoud

daughter to live with relatives because she cauuot

afford to keep her. A real shomingeki with lots of

heart. Venice, Silver Lion. 98 mins. VHS, Facets

Multimedia (0P)

My Neighbor Totoro (Tonari uo Totoro, 1988),

X'liyazaki Hayao. Sweet, good-terupered animated film

about a group of children and their friendly

monster neighbors. Lots of nice effects-like the

wildcat bus. For children of all ages. Adults should

avoid the dubbed versiou. Iq#l. 36 mitts. VHS,

Twentieth Century Fox.

Murd,erous Desire. See Intmtions of Xlurder.

N

Naked Island,, The (Hadaka no shina, aka

The Island, 1950), Shindo Kaneto. A film made

entirely without dialogue (rnusic by Hayashi Hikaru)

about a farlily struggling for existence on a small

island in the Inland Sea. The leftist nessage is

certainly there as we watch the little people lead

279

their awful lives. X{oscow, Grand Prize. !2 rnins,

D\D, Asnrik Ace (Japan ).

!J

Nanami: First loue. See lnl'enrc of'Firsl Lot'e,

'l'lle.

Naraltama bushiko. See Bttl lrtd of',\'rtrrt.l'(t nt u.

IYeu, Tales of the Taira Clan. See Zrlcr ql ilte

7'rtit'tt (,'hrn.

Night and Fog inJapan (Nihon no \'orlr to kiri,

1960), Oshirna Nagisa. One of Oshinra's ntost

aclvanced fihns Fla.shback-filled saga of leftist

nranipulution, involvirrg a weclding, student liots,

lurtd genentl rttavhern. This is the picture that got

Oshinlr fired fronr Shochiku-ancl gave hinr his

flLeerlont. With Wutarutbe Funrio. Kulvano llivuki

rtrtcl Koi'unra Akiko. 107 nrins. DVD (English titles),

Punouu'tlt Eutertuiuntent (Holtg Kong).

No Regrets for Our Youth (Waga seishun ni kui

rutslri, 1940, KuLosawa Akira A deeplv f'elt nredi-

tution 0n wuLtinre Japan A unirrersitv prof'essor

(Okochi Denjiro) is suspected of liberal view's and

one oi his pupils (Fujita Susunur) is arrestecl ls a spr',

His lvif'e, the prcf'essor's daughteL (Hura Setsuko),

stzurds llv hinr und lilter he is dead goes to his parenls'

fanr and eudures the wolst of wartinte suspicion,

Kttrosawlt's major f'eminist statenrent and au allswer

to the criticisnr that he dicl not unclerstancl wonren.

110 nrins. \'HS, Honre Vision Cinema; D\D (English

titles),I1ei Nr (Hong Kong).

Nu,ages d'Eti. See J)lrir ner C'lottrls.

o

Odd Obsession (Kagi, aka TIre Ke)', 1959),

Ichikawu Kon Turtizaki Jun'ichiro's splenclid novel,

T'he Ke.t', doubli' traduced. First, b)' the inarre

F)nglish title given the filnr, second, bv u script

(Hzrsebe Keiji ancl Wadu Natto) which ridiculouslv

sinrplifies the original. Iu this l'ersion the nraicl

clorre it. This saicl, the fihn boruts luuriuous photog-

nqrlu' bv Xlit'agawet Kazuo artcl fine perfonuauces

bv Nakanrura (ianjiro ancl Ki'o \{uchiko ffi the

kinkv couple. Cannes, Special Prize: Golden Globe

ArvaLd. The original veLsion is 107 rnins. The LI.S.

vemion is 96 nrins VHS, Houre Vision lintertainnrent.

Okaeri ( 1995), Shirrozaki l{akoto. WLiter-director

Shirroz'.tki in his debut fihl tells the arresting stou'

of lt Ipiclrl \'our]g couple, who are brought to sunih'

I

280

through the wif'e's nradness. Beautiful, lacortic filnr-

ruraking with a splendicl perforurance bt' anrateur

LTenmru l{iho as the rvif'e. Berlin, Wolfgang Staudte

AwaLd. !! rnins. \HS (F'rench titles), K F'ihns (I.-rance).

Older Brother, Younger Sister (furi inroto,

zrka L'r0re et Soeur, 195.3), Nunrse XIikio. One of the

diLector's best renrenrbered filnrs. A brother '.tnc[

sister (Ilori lllnartrki lurcl Kvcl Ilachiko) lue involrecl

in u love/hate relzttionship oi un uhnost suspicious

intensih'. The l{uro Saisei st0r1'as scLipted br'}lizuki

Yoko. 86 nrins. \'HS (French titles), Les Filnrs de IIa

Vie (f'rurce).

One Wondcrfu I Sunday ( Subura-sh i ki n ich ivobi,

It)+7), Kurosalvlt Akim. A sunn\', sentinrentul conreclt'

ivritterr bi' the director und his old school friend.

Uekusu Keinosuke. Bo)' and girl 0n a clate find

rouuurtic nragic ivhen he tries to coucluct the

Schubert "Llniinishecl" in an ernph'baud shell aud

she tearfullr irnplores us to belier,'e in hinr-aud,

sllrc enollgh. . . 108 nrins. \HS, Home Visiort Cinenta;

DVD (English titles),IIei Nr (Hong Kong).

Onibaba (aku The Hole, 196+), Shinclo Kaueto.

IlotheL urrcl duughter (Otolva Nobuko und

YoshinruraJitsuko) sunil'e bv killing sunulai artcl

selling their annor. Kurodu Kivonri's finelv textured

pltotognqlhv and Hai'ashi Hikuru's experinrentul

score create a serrsuul utnrosphere. but the iilnr is also

gil'ert to portentous allegorizing. 104 lnirrs. DVD,

CLiteLion.

Osaka Elegy (Naniwu ereji, 1936), Ilizoguchi

Kenji. An 0kadu SubuLo nragaziue serial ennoblecl

br'\'oda Yoshikatu's script, \'anrada Isuzu's perfbr-

n'ral'rce and Xlizoguchi's direction. To keep her job

a.s a telephone operator rt wonlall luus to beconre her

enrplover's nristress arrcl afteL he gets rid of her has

no recourse but prostitution. Xlizoguchi said that he

finallv fourrd his true diLection with this iilm,

Original length, 8! nrinutes, LIS release, 71 nrins.

VHS, Honre Visiou Entertaiunreut.

P

Page Ou,t of Ord,er, A (Kuruttrt ichipeji, akrt A

Cr;tn' Page, aka A Page of Nlachress, 1926), Kinugusu

l.einosuke. A puqloselv scranrbled script bv Karvrtbuta

Yltsunari ut his nrost rlodernist about lt nrau who

gets lt job irr un iusarte asvlunr in orcler to be nelrr

his iunlrte wif'e. this fihn is a rvelter of expressirlnist

expeLinreuts irr r,vhich nan'ative is questioued lrt

even' tuln. This version coutains the score which

Kittugluslt cottunissiorted ilt 1970 (after tlte rediscot-

eu,of the ueglttive) ancl then repucliated. 60 nrirrs.

VHS, l'acets Ilultinredia (0P).

Pain. See Jlulrlntdtt.

Pale Flou,er (Kawaita hana, 1964), Shinodu

Ila.sahiro. A seminal i'akuza fihl and orre thut helped

fonu the Toei geure. A voung hoocl nlrkes lxrcl,

based 0r'r an Ishiharu Shinturo ston', with lots of

LhetoLic aucl a Takenritsu Toru score. The punk is

Ikebe Rvo artcl his giLl is Krtgu \lariko. 96 nrirrs. D\D,

Ijonre Vision (linenrzt.

Passion See,lIrttt,fl.

Pleasures of the Flesb, The (Etsurzrku, uka

Les Pleisirs de la ChaiL, 1965), 0shinn Nagisa. A dry

run, lrs it were, lot ltt lln lleulnt of'iltc Jc,ll.rzs. A deal

ruucle betrveerr the crinrinal, tlte cops und the i'ukuzu

li'ith ser ls the cumenc\:. With Nlrklunura Klrtsuo

Iurcl Krtglr IlaLiko. 90 rnins. \'HS (F'rench titles),

Fihns sans Floutibres (France).

Pornographers, The (ELogoto-shi-tachi von:

JinLui-gaku llvunron, 1966), Inranrura Shohei.

Nosaka Akivuki's finelv nrordant novel, scripted b1'

28I

Nuruata Koji and Imamura himself. The hero

(Oztwa Shoichi) quite seriously believes that being

a ponlogLerpher is a way to satisft' one of socieh"s

most deeplv felt needs. Very funny and quite rnoving

by turns, with Sakarnoto Suntiko grotesque aud

touching as the fish-obsessed ladt'of the house. 128

mins. D\rD, Criterion.

Pri.ncess Mononoke (N,lononoke-hime, 1997),

\{ivzaki Hayao. Eco-friendlv animated featule about

the middle ages in Japan, wolf-riding princesses,

noble spirits of the forest, and so on. This is the

English dubbed LIS version, the rvhole aflair rendered

even less likely by' the broad funericau accents. Japan

Academy Award, Best Fihn. Original length, 134

rurins. D\DAHS, N,{i ramzuVDisnev.

Princess Yang Kwei Fei,, The (Yoki-hi, 1955),

Mizoguchi Kenji. Slow and statelv film set in eighth-

century China about the Emperor Hnan Tsung and

his mistress Yang Kwei Fei (N{ori Mas';n,uki and

K),0 N{achiko). Beautiful photograph,v b1, Sugivanta

Kolrei (who filmed the colorful Gate ol' Hell) and

a lovelv "Chinese" scol€ bv Hayasaka F'umio. OtheL-

wise, fornral cinema with al'r almost exclusive

emphiuis Llpou aesthetics. 98 rnins. \HS, New Yorker

Films (0P).

o

Quiet Duel, The (Shizukanaru ketto, 194Y,

Kurosawa Akira. N{ifune Toshiro is the virgin doctoL

who gets syphilis fronr a scalpel cut and has to

explain things to his fiancde. The script, by director

Taniguchi Senkichi, is based on an othemise for-

gotten play by Kikuta Kazuo. Even given snch

nupromising rnaterial, KurosawA still rnanages to

make us care, if only for the tirne being, 95 nrins.

VHS, f-acets N{ultimedia.

R

Ran (1985), KurosAwa Akira. Kurosawa's vemion of

Kittg Leur with three sons, a transvestite fool, lots of

2U2

heart, and snperb battle scerles. Nso slow, stately,

and color coordinated within an inch of its life.

Shakespeare is deconstructed by 0guni Hideo, Ide

N{asato, and KurosAwzt hinself. Nakadai Tatsuya is

very grand and stagl, as the lord and there is a

splendidly Mahleresque score by Takenitsu Toru.

New York Film Critics' Award, Best F-oreign Fihl.

152 nins. D\DATIS, Wellspring.

Rashomon (1950), Kurosala Akira. Two Akuta-

gawa Rvunosuke stories scripted bv Hashimoto

Shinobu and the director foLm this farnous ntnlti-

faceted filnr which questions not onlv truth but real-

ih itself A warrioL (Nlori Nlasal'uki), his ladl' (Ky'o

Machiko), a bandrt (Mifune Toshiro) and a sp.ving

woodcutter (Shimura Takiuhi) each give very difl'er-

eut accounts of a rape and a nurder. A fascinatiug,

even nragical film. Venice, Golden Lion; Acaclemv

Award, Best Foreign Film. 88 mins. DVD, CLiterion.

Realm of the Senses, Ihe. See lr the lleultn oJ'

the Serues,

Rebellioz (foiuchi, aka Szulurai Rebellion . 195T.

Kobayashi N{asaki. Scripted by Hashimoto Shinobn,

wlro also worked with Kobayzuhi on Huruhiri, a,

film which has a similar nessage: the feudal systen

is inhnmau aud those uuder it rnust revolt. In this

case, the lord wants back X{ifune Toshiro's daughter-

in-law (Tsukasa Yoko), and that spells trouble. 'With

an elegant corpse-filled finale as Mifune finall,v hzrs

enongh of his brutal overlord. Ig#1. 0riginal vemion,

128 mins. LIS release versiou, 121 rrins. \HS, Horne

Visiorr Entertainneut.

Record, of a liuing Being, The (lkimono no

kiroku, aka I Live in Feirr, 1955), Kurosawa Aliira.

The aging head of the famil;," (N{ifune Toshiro),

worried about the zrtomic threat, tries to cottvince

evewolre to emigrate with him to Brazil, which he

hopes is safer. They respond b1'finding ltittt insane-

which he eveutually becomes. Tlte script (written bv

Hashimoto Shinobu and Oguni Hideo, as well as

Kulosawa) is sourewhat ruelodraruatic, and-given

the didactic ainrs of the director-a bit serttentious

as well. 103 mins. D\D (English titles), Mei Ah

(Hong Kong); \HS, Hotle Vision Entertaitttuettt.

Record of a Tenement Gentleman, The

(Nagava shinshi-roku, 1947), Ozu I'enujiro. The

director's first postwar fihr. A little bov is ntost

reluctantlv given a home bv a clrildless womatt attd

is then much missed wheu his father finally turns

up. One of Ozu's most perfect donrestic comedies

with Iida Choko ru the put-upon samaritan. 72 mins.

\HS, New Yorker F'ilms (0P).

Red Beard (Akahige, 196), Knrosawa Akira. tur

'ldaptation of Yauramotn Shugoro's huruartistic uor,el

about a cloctor (lVlifune Toshiro), ltis youug ensistant

(Kayama Yuzo), ernd the worth of hurttan beings.

Long, affecting, and beautifully paced, with a

splendidlv affirming score by Sato Masaru, it is a

lesson in both fellow feeling and film making. KJ#1;

X4oscow, Film Union Prize; Veuice, Best Actor Award

aud Sau Giorgio Prize. 185 mins. DVD, Criterion.

Red light Districr (Aliiuen chitai, aka Street of

Shame, 1956), Mizoguchi Kenji. The director's final

filnr, as well as his lmt staternent onJryanese won'lell

and repressive societ\,, based 0u a script bv Naru-

sawa Masashige afteL a Shibaki Yoshiko short story.

A group of prostitutes go about their busiuess as the

government is passing the anti-prostitution legis-

lation which will officiallv do awa)/ with them. Fine

eusemble perfonuances by Kyo Machiko, Kogure

N{ichiyo, Wakao Ayako and others. 94 tlins. !HS,

Home Vision Entertainnent.

Rhapsody in August (Hachigatsu tto kyoshi-

kyoku, 1991), KurosAwa Akira. fui funericart relative

(Richard Gere) returus to the Nagasaki horlestead

aud hears about tlte atoru bombing frotl his aged

aunt (N{uLase Sachiko.) He apologizes, is forgiven,

and the children are pleased. The seutentiousness is

sornewhat miuimized b1'the wonderful five utirtutes

at the end. 100 mius. D\,D. X4GN'{.

Rihyu (1989), Teshigahara Hiroshi. Long, solemtt

spectacle with a script b1,' Akasegawa Genpei and

Teshigahara after the Nogami Yaeko novel, and

Mikuni Reutaro in the title role of the fantous tea-

nraster. Beautiful N{oruoyztnra-period sets and

costnntes (the woLk of Nishioka Yoshinobu and

Shigeta Shigenori) but rtowltere are we reminded

that this is the woLk of the director o'[ Womun in

tbe Duttas. The original versiou is 135 lnins. Tlte

US version is 115 nins. D\D, E-Realbiz.corn; \HS,

Cnpitol Entertainment.

Rose in the Mud,,4. See Brul Sleep WelL The.

s

Samurad (N4iyarnoto N{usashi, 1954-55), Inagaki

Hiroshi. The Toho trilogy (there is a "Lival" Toei

trilogl', 195I-6, beued on the popular Yoshikawa

Eiji potboileL. Part one (The Legencl ol'f,luvtslti,

283

!2 rnins.) introduces the )/ouug warrior (N1ifune

Toshiro), who decides olt a career as A sanurai.

Part two (Duel ut lcltiloji Temple. 102 mins.)

shows him honing his fighting skills. Part three

(Duel on Gau'.t,u Islurrcl, 115 mins.) finds hint

using theur against his lifelong uemesis, Sasaki

Kojiro (Tsuruta Koti). All three pafts are heavily

edited in their tl.S. vemions but the first paLt

nonetheless wou an Academ),Award for Best Foreign

Film. DVD, Criterion.

Samurai Assassin (Santurai, 1955), Okanroto

Kihachi. A Hashimoto Shinobu script based 0n A

storl'by GunjiJiromzua about a urasterless samurai

(NIifune Toshiro) who plots to zr^ssassinate the

eurperor in order to furtheL his own career. Wild and

entertaining chop-'enl-up. With SugimuLa Haruko

arrd Fujita Susumu . f22 mius. D\D/VHS, furiuteigo.

Samurai Banners (FuLiu kAzAu, aka Under the

Banner of SamuLai, 1959), Iuagaki Hiroshi. Rousing

charubaLa based ou an Inoue Yasushi novel as

scripted by Hruhimoto Shinobn, with Mifune Toshiro

and Nakamllra Kinnosuke in the swordsmen, witlr

tttt-tsic by Sato Masam, 156 mins. \HS, British Film

lnstitute (LlK).

Samurai Rebellion. See l?ebell ion .

Sam,urai Saga (Aru kengo n0 shogai, 1959),

Inagaki Hiroshi. Entertaining version of Rostand's

C.t'rtnto de Bergeruc, set in the N{omoyaura period,

with N{ifune Toshiro ru the loug-nosed Cyrano and

Tsukasa Yoko as his euchanting Roxanne. Elegant

production design bv Ito Kisaku and a big thumping

score bv Ifukube AkiLa. 111 mins. \HS, New York

Filnr Aurex.

Sanjuro (Tsubaki Sanjuro, 1952) Kurosawa Akira.

A kind of a sequel to lojimbo, and just zu good.

Here Sanjuro (N{iftrne Toshiro again) clearn ql local

corruption, while having to put up with a band of

bov-scor-rt samurai. There are mauv funuv parodies

of the ordinaryr period film and a rnost intpressive

blood-letting finale. 96 mins. D\D, Criterion.

Sanshi,ro Sugata (Sugata Sanshiro, aka Judo

Saga, 194il, KurosAwa Akira. The director's debut

filnr (bzued on the Tonrita Tsuneo book) and still

quite inrpressive. It is about cocla judo champ

Sanshiro (Fujita Susnnru) and his learning that

discipline is more important than prowess. 79 mins.

DVD (English titles), N{ei Ah (Hong Kong); \HS,

Home Vision Entertainment.

Sanshiro Sugata, Part Two (Zoku Sugata San-

shiro, 194), KuLosawa AkiLa. A rather crude sequel

foisted off on the director by the producers. The clos-

est to a propagarrda fihn that Kurosawa ever urade,

83 mins. D\D (English titles), N4ei Ah (Hong Kong).

Sansho the Bailffi (Sansho dayu, 1954).

Mizoguchi Kenji. Written b.v Yoda Yoshikata after

a Mori Ogai novel, this pensive, crllel, and beautiful

284

film contreuts the solitar-v fate of the exiled mother

(Tanaka Kinuyo) with the brutalization of the

exiled son. Nothing is explicit and even'thing is

searingly apparent in this menrorable picture.

Veuice, Silver Lion. 132 rnins. VHS, Houre Vision

Entertainnent.

Scandal (ShLrbun, 1950), Kurosawa Akira, A minor

pictuLe based 0r'r a Kikushima Rvuzo script about a

yoLurg mm (Mifture Toshiro) and his f'enrale acquaiu-

tance (Yamaguchi Yoshiko) libeled b), the yellow

press. Just as earlier Kulosztwu filnrs were about the

excesses of the wartime militan' so this picture is

about the excesses of the peacetime media. Both tend

to be didactic, 104 rnins. \HS, Home Vision Entertain-

ment; D\D (English titles), PanorAnta Entertainmeut

(Hong Kong).

Scoutman (aka Pain, 2000), Ishioka N1asato,

The best of the sex-biz fihns, photogLaphed like a

docuutentan' aud distinguished bv fine perfor-

mzulces from fiLst-tine actors N{atsumoto N{iku and

Nakaizumi Hideo. Nakaizunri is the "scontmAu,"

out stopping girls on the street to trv to get them into

the sex industry,. 114 rnins. DVD (English titles),

Winson (Hong Kong).

Seuen Samurad (Shichinin no sanuLzri, 1954),

Kurosawa Akira. Six unemploved saruuliri and lr

fztrruer's sou agree to protect a village fiotn the deple-

dations of a group of bandits. Thev win but, eu the

rnenrolable final scene demonstrates, thev also lose.

Superb action seqlleuces, fiue performances (partic-

ularly Shimura Takashi as the head samurai), aud

a final reel which is one of the glories of world cin-

enia. 200 mins. \'enice, Silver Liou; Acaderuy Award,

Best Foreign Film. D\D, Criterion.

Shall We Dancel (Sharu ui deursn, 1996), Suo

Masaruki. A charuringly slight comedy about a uuul

(Yakusho Koji) who finds himself-or tries to-through the local social-dancing club. With Take-

ruaka Naoto as the equallv dance-crazed colleague.

Much hvped in the USA where it became the largest-

gLossingJapanese film until then-though uone of

the h.vpe rneutioned that it was Japanese. 0Liginal

veLsiou, 135 nrins. US versiorl, 11! mins. DVD, Walt

Disney' Houre Video; \HS, Miranrax Home Enter-

taiurleut.

She and He (Ku'tojo to kArc, 195il, Haui Snsuntu.

She is a honsewif'e who is not 1,et dehumanized by

the tvpical suburban life. He is a proper upwardlv-

nrobile office-workeL who doesn't like her being inteL-

ested in a group of local rag-pickers. With Hidari

Sachiko (who won several Japanese pLizes for this

role) and 0kada Eiii in a beautifullv understated

script written by Hani and Shinrizu Kunio. Berlin,

Best Actress. 114 rnius. VHS. Facets Nlultimedia .

Shin Heike Monogatari. See'ftiles o.l'tln Tuitvt

C'lut,

Si,sters of the Gion (Gion no hodai, 1935),

il{izoguchi Kenji. Two geish2l si5[g1s-one of thenr

3

2U5

traditonal and faithful to her patron, the other mod-

em and fickle-get to the end of their respective

ways of life. Nlizoguchi in this film consolidated his

mature style and positively illuminates the Yoda

Yoshikata scLipt through the controlled acting of

Umemura Yoko and Yanada Isuzn as the sisters.

KJ#1. 59 mins. \HS, Home Vision Entertaiument.

Snow Country (Yukiguni, 1957), Toyoda Shiro.

The first, and best, of a number of screeu vemions of

the Kawabata Yasunari novel. Ikebe Ryo is the feck-

less artist and Kishi Keiko is the troubled country

geisha. Yzuumi Toshio's script iuserts some inci-

denls uot in the novel, but the feeling is very close to

the original. All of this wiu subverted when the U.S.

version was released (by Toho) with mauv cuh and

a rtrrtrting commentaw. OLiginal Lelease,124 mius.

VHS, Facets N4ultimedia.

Sonatine (Sonachine, 1993), Kitano Takeshi.

The artist also hrown eu Beat Takeshi directs his own

script and plays the star role in this picture about

gangsters going to settle old scores in 0kinawa and

getting carried away by the sun and sea. Not exactly

a comedy (lots of guts flying at the end) but defi-

nitely soft-core violettce b)' hoods who have heart.

94 mins. \TIS, Mirana,r; DVD (English titles),

Panorama Entertainruent (Hong t<ong).

Story from Chikamatsu, A (aka Chikamatsu

rrronogatari, aka The Crucified Lovers, 1954),

Mizoguchi Kenji. A Chikamatsu puppet-play

(Drrik.ro.li lllukaslti Got'omi), scripted for the

screen by Yoda Yoshikata and photographed by

N{iyagawa Kazuo, becomes a sober, serious and

beautiftrl film about a merchant's wife (Kagawa

Kyoko) accused of adultery with one of her husband's

apprentices (Hasegawa Kazuo). It is only after they

flee that they finally becoure lovers, are caught, And

crucified. 102 mins. VHS, Facets Multimedia.

Story of Floating Weeds, Ihe (Ul<tkusa mono-

gatari, 1934), Ozu Yasujiro. The leading actor of an

itinerant group (Sakamoto Takeshi) retuLns to the

town where he left a wonan (lida Choko) and a son

(Mitsni Hideo). Scripted by Ikeda Tadao after,

286 ;' ,.

apparentll,, An fulerican film bv George Fitzmau-

rice. The original is forgotteu but 0zr-r's vemion lives

0n arrd was eveu remade irt 1959 us Flocrtiny4

WeecLs, with Mitsui Hideo plaf ing one of the actors.

KJ#l. 85 nrins. DVD, Criterion.

Story of the last Chrysanthemum, The(Zangiku monogatari, 193il, N'lizoguchi Kenji.

Osaka, 1885, and a kabuki actoL off'ends his familr,'s

dignity by loving a woman of a lower class. She

realizes she mlrst sacrifice herself. Melodrama (the

oLiginal is the Iwava San'ichi stage-play'brued orr

the popular novel bv Muramatsu Shofu) wedded to

the most refined of ciuernatic meaus; sentimentalitv

errrrobled by pLecisiorr. 143 ruins. \HS, Home \iision

Eutertainnrent.

Story of a Prostitute (Shu nrpu den, aka Jov

Girls, 195), Suzuki Seijun. Lots of sexy goings-on

with Nikkatsu star Nogawa Yumiko and otheLs. The

Takaiwa Hajime script is based on a Tanura Taijiro

stonr, the whole transformed into anotheL iu-\'our-

face, over-the-top enteLtainmenf by a nra^steL of the

genre. 96 mins. VHS, Home Vision Entertainment.

Stray Dog (Nora inu, 194D, KurosAwa Ahira.

Detective N'lifune Toshiro searches Tokyo for his

stolen pistol while superuisor Shirnura Taka^shi

lends tttoral support. A documentary'-like chase film

(filned in downtown Tokvo) which magicalll' turrts

into a morality play wheu we see that hunter and

quarry/ are more similar than diffeLent. 122 mins.

D\,'D, Criterion.

Street of Shame. See Red Light District.

Summer Clouds (lwashigumo, aka Herringbone

Clouds, aka Nuages d'Etd, 1958), Naruse Mikio. A

Hashimoto Shinobu script about postwar farn life.

ful idealistic citv newspaper reporter (Kimura Isao)

gets to know a p00r rural widow (Awashima Chi-

kage) . 128 mins. \,HS (French titles), Les Films de

N{a Vie (France).

Sun's Burial, The (Taiyo no hakaba, 1950),

Oshima Nagisa, Llrban violence as political allegory,.

Rival gzlugs, piurps, plostitutes, cast long social

shadows. With Kawazu Yusuke setting up solid

citizens with the charms of Honoo Kayoko. 87 mins.

\TIS, New Yorker F'ilms (0P)

Suzaku (Moe uo Suzakll, 1997), KAwase Naomi.

A splendidll' atmospheric feature film, made like a

documentary, follows the life of a rural fauril.v, ghosts

and all. KnniururaJun is the only professioual actor

irr au otherwise amateur cast. 94 mins. DVD

(English titles), Edko Films (Hong Kong),

Sword of Doom, The (Daibosatsu toge, 1966),

0kanoto Kihachi. Based on the popular novel by

Nakazato Kaizan, scripted bv Hashimoto Shinobu,

aud directed b,v one of the better period-film

specialists, this samurai saga (with fine widescreen

photograph.v by Murai Hiroshi) is about a warrior

gone bad. With Nakadai Tatsr-rya as the samurai,

N{ifune Toshiro as his teacher, Aratama N,lichiyo and

Kayanta Yuzo. 11! mins. D\D, Criterion. \HS, Home

Vision Enteltaiuruent (0P).

T

Taboo. See Gohutto.

Tales of the Taira Clan (aka Shin heike

rrorrogatari, aka New Tales of the TairaClan, 1955),

N{izoguchi Kenji. Minor if colorful excursiou into

parts of Yoshikawa Eiji's popular novel-with a

number of Daiei stars (including Ichikawa Raizo

aud Kogure Michivo) making appearal'rces. Nice

Miyagawa Kazuo photogLaphl' and Hayzuaka Fumio

music. 108 mins. \HS, British Film lnstitute (LIK)

Tarnpopo (1985), Itami Juzo. A calculated and

arnusiug send up of Japau's passion for the West

(the director said it rvas a "reurake" 0f the Westem,

Rio Bruuo, set iu a noodle shop). The shop is uanred

Tampopo (Dandelion) and the cast includes

N{ivanroto Nobuko, \'Aullzaki Tsutomn, aud suclr

old-time stars as 0kada N{ariko, Nakamura Nobuo

and Kubo Ahira. Snrart, glib, satiLical and when

flurn\', very funu1,. KJ#1, Japan Academy Award, Best

l.ilm. 114 nrins. D\DA'HS, Fox Lorber.

Taxi,ng Voman, A (Marusa n0 ouna , 1987),

ltami Juzo. Fast, amusing satire ou the Japanese

passion for mone,v-and their unwillingness [o hand

it over to the National Tu Bureau. This institution is

personified bv its star inspector (N,liyaruoto Nobuko).

Ta,r-evader king (Yamazaki Tsutomu) finally meets

his rnistress. 127 mins. DVD, Fox Lorber.

Taxing Woman's Retan'n, A (Marllsrt u0 ouuzt

zoku, 1988), Itami Juzo. Tax inspector Miyamoto

Nobuko on the trail again. This tirue she runs into a

holv tax evader, bogus high priest Mikuni Rentaro.

Tlre forrnula of A Tu.ring Wontcur is repeated, br-rt

the film is distinguished by ltarui's lightness and

the straight-faced hurlor he so expertly engiueers.

127 ntins. \HS, New Yorker Fihns (0P).

Temple of the Golden Paailion, The. See

Cordlagratiort.

Tetsuo: The lron Man (Tetsuo, 1989), Tsnka-

moto Shinya. Pop fantasy about the joys of being a

2U7

cvborg. l'lesh turns into nrachinerv and the other wav

aronrtd. 67 nrins, DVD, huage. Part hvo, Telstto IL'

Bocl.t' Hrtmnter (lgL)Z), is in color and a bit less

honre-nrovie and a bit more hi-tech, The director

himself stars in both. 81 nrins. DVDAHS. Tartarr

(rrK)

They Vho Step on the Tiger's Tail (Tora

no 0 w0 fumu otoko-tachi. aka The X'len Who Tread

on tlte TigeL's Tail,1945), Kurosawa Akira. A slvlv

subversive wartinre version of the kabuki pla)'

Krtrt.iittclto. Though the noble dLanra is nncut. it is

cousideritbly undenuined bv the conreclian Hno-

ken's plaf ing of a nel character: A ven' conlnrou,

very hunran porter, Banned bv Japanese alnrv

authorities as loo clenurcratic, then again banned bv

LI.S, ann' authorities ius too f'eudal, it was relemed

ortlt'irt 1953, 58 mins. \'HS, Home \risiou Entettairr-

nrent.

Thi.s Scorching Sea. See (,i'u:etl Fntil.

Throne of Blood, The (KLrnrorrosu-jo, IL)57),

Kulosawlt Akira. ScLiplwLiteLs Hashiuroto Shinobu,

Oguni Hideo, Kikushinra Rvuzo ancl Kurosawa hinr-

self nove ,llucbelh to the fogg)' slopes of llount

Fuji. Irr the process thev preserue ancl eveu fuLtheL

illuminate Shakespeare's saga. Called the best scrcel't

adaptation of the Bard ever nracle, it rnal' be just

that. With Ilifune Toshiro as the general, Yamada

Isuzu lu his power-possessed lvife. ancl superlative

black-and-lvhite photographi' bv Nakai,{sakazu.

110 nrins. D\D, Criteriorr.

Tokyo llrifter (Toln'o nagafenrono, 1965), Suzuki

Seijun. Reallv just anotheL vakuza filnr but all

decked out lvith bright color, stagv sets, songs, jokes

Irnd a miuiural plot. Delight in nravhenr is its onlv

rnessage, but this filnr delivers cleliriouslv well. Filnr

noir nreets spaghetti Western. With WataLi Tetsuva.

.3j ntins, DVD. CLiteLiou.

Tokyo Olympial (Tokvo 0rinrpiku, 1965), Ichi-

kalva Kon. All tlurt is left of a nrznterful clocunren-

tan'. The renrains aLe carefullv LeconstLuctecl, with

the diLectoL focusing on the huruau rather than on

the supeL-hurnau. This ruAv clis'tppoint sports funs

(and Olvnrpic comurittees) but it Lesults in the rnost

beautiful, uttentive, and nroving sports-filnr e\/er

nrade. Caunes. International Critics' Prize: Iloscow.

Sports Lllrion Prize. 170 nrins DVD, Criterion.

Tokyo Story (Tokvo ruortogatru'i, 1953), Ozu

Ya^sujiro. A proviuciul couple go to visit their children

in Tokvo [ipolt their retulrr the nrother dies and the

children conle for the funeral, This is the sole and

slnrnretrical numative llut Ozu ancl his co-scenarist

Noda Kogo find in it an erttiLe 'nvorld of rvisdonr The

clear observution lvhich nrakes the filur such Ifbrnral delight ulso accounts fbr its enrotional power.

which is unforgettable. Orre of the grelrt lilnrs of all

tiute. 1.i5 nrins. [)\'D, Criteriort,

2Uu

Tokyo Twi,lighf (Tolcyo boshoku, aka CrEuscule

) Tokyo, 1957), Ozu Yasujiro. A young woman dis-

cove$ that her mother, whom she thought dead, is

really living nearby, having deserted her husband.

The discovery upsets everyone and the young woman

eventually kills herself. With Harasetsuko, Yantada

Isuzu, fuima Ineko. 140 mins. VHS (French titles),

Le Sidcle des Lumidres (France).

Twenty-Four Eyes (Nijushi no hitomi, 1954),

Kinoshita Keisuke. Adapted by Kinoshita frorn the

Tsuboi Sakae novel, this is one of the rnost beloved

of all Japanese films. It follows the life of a first-

grade school teacher (Takamine Hideko) frorn her

beginnings in 1928 through the years of World War

II and after. At the same tirne the fihn is powerfully

anti-war. The combination of gentle contemplation

and fierce opposition make viewing this film as

unsettling as it is rewarding. Those who do not like

to be so disturbed have called it sentimental. KJ#l.

Original version, 154 mins. DVD (English titles),

Panorama Entertainment (Hong Kong); VHS Janus/

Sony (0P).

U

Ugetsu (Ugetsu monogatari, 195r, Mizoguchi

Kenji. Two Ueda Akinari ghost stories linked by

scriptwriter Yoda Yoshikata into one of the director's

most accomplished filns. With its beautifully

atnrospheric camera work (by Miya gawa Kazuo),

alI long shots, long takes, and graceful nove-

ments, this story of a potter and the two ghosts

wlro love him becones an emotional saga. With

Mori Masayuki,Tanaka Kinuyo, Kyo Machiko and

a score by Hayasaka Fumio. Venice, Silver Lion.

!6 mins. DVD, Criterion; VHS, Hone Vision Enter-

tainment.

Undcr the Banner of Sarnu,rai. See Samurai

Bannas.

Unholy Desire. See hiluttions of Murdu.

Utamaro and His Fiue Women (Utamaro wo

meguru gonin n0 onna, aka Five Women around

Utamaro, 1946), Mizoguchi Kenji. The director's fintpostwar film, scripted by Yoda Yoshitaka after the

novel by Kunieda Kanji. Though Mizoguchi got per-

mission from Occupation censors to make this film

by telling them that the script was about the eman-

cipation of women, it is really a kind of rneditation

on the role of the artist in society. 94 mins. VHS,

New Yorker Fihns (Of;.

V

Vengeance is Mine (Fukushu suruwa ware ni

ari, 1979), Imamura Shohei. A powerful, complex,

and intricate study of a cold-blooded killer (}gata

Ken), and how he got that way. Baba Masaru adapted

Saki Ryuzo's book which was based on the crimes

of a real murdercr. With Mikuni Rentaro as the father

and Baisho Mitsuko as the wife. Ig#1 Japan Acad-

emy Award, Best Film. 128 mins. VHS Horne Vision

EnteLtainnent; DVD (English titles) , Parrcranta

Entertainment (Hong Kong).

Vibrator (Vaibureita, 2003), Hiroki Ryuichi. A

distressed woman rneets a lonely truck driver and

tlrey take off to faraway Niigata. After sex is gotten

out of the way they begin to get to know each other,

though they both suspect that their aff.air is leading

nowhere. A subtle, beautifully acted, honest film.

The title, incidentally, refers to the cell phone which

vibrates rather than Lings. 95 mins. DVD (English

titles), Happinet Pictures (|apan) .

Vital (Vitaru, 2004), Tsukamoto Shinya. The

director and star of Tetsu,o: The lron fulan displays

forensic skills, as a rnedical student (Asano

289

Tadanobu) regains his lost memory while dissect-

ing, and bonds with the dead girlfriend. As one

critic put it, "lyricism with formalin." Sitges Film

Festival New Visions Section, Best Film. 86 min. DVD

(English titles), Happinet Pictures (Japan).

Violence at Noon (Hakuchu no torim a, aka

Daylight Demon, 1955), Oshima Nagisa. One of the

director's most experimental films, this is a purposely

fragrlented account of rapist-murderer through

whom Oshirna attempts to implicate contenporary

society. As in Dectth fu, Hangitzg, there is no clear-

cut guilt-we are all guilty. Berlin, Silver Bear.

!! mins. VHS, Kino.

W

When a Woman Ascend^s the Stairs (Onna

ga kaidan w0 noboru toki, 1960), Naruse Mikio.

Beautiful, pensive film about the sad life of the

manageress of a Ginza bar. The stairs she ascends

are those which lead to her bar on the second floor,

and it is a daily struggle. With Takamine Hideko at

her rnost persuasive, and a cool jazz score by

Mayuzumi Toshiro. 110 mins. VHS, World tutists

Houre Video.

Wild Geese. See Mi.stras, Tbe,

Woman in the Dunes (Sr-rna no onna, aka

Wonran of the Dunes, 1954), Teshigahara Hiroshi.

Abe Kobo's allegorical novel about a nan who finds

himself caught with a woman, both shovelling sand

for the rest of their lives to keep from being buried

alive. The perfonnances of Okada Eiji and Kishida

Kyoko as the couple, Segawa Hiroshi's sharply focused

photography, and Takemitsu Toru's wonderfully

scratch-filled score he[ make this a nemorable and

claustrophobic experience. I$#1 ; Cannes, Special Jury

Prize. 123 rnins, DVD Llage Entertainment; VHS,

British Film lnstitute (Utt).

Wornan of Tokyo (Tobo n0 onna, aka Une

Femnre de Tokyo , f%r, Ozu Yasujiro. A woman

worls hard to put her younger brother through

school only to have him kill himself when he learns

that she has financed his education by becoming

a prostitute. A romantic melodrarna, perfectly put

together. 70 rnins. VHS (French titles), Cind Horizon

(France).

Women of the Night (Yoru n0 onna-tachi, aka

Les Femmes de la Nuit, 1948), Mizognchi Kenji.

Postwar prostitutes and their miseries. A Yoda

Yoshitaka script, Mizoguchi at his most noir, and

Tanaka Kinuyo at her most pathetic. 95 mins. VHS

(French titles), Les Films de Ma Vie (France).

Y

Yakaza Papers, Ihe. See Battla Withottt H0n0r

and Hu,mnni,t1,.

Yojimho (1951), Kurosawa Akira. The irresistible

action comedy that became the director's greatest

hit. Jobless samurai Mifune Toshiro strides into an

awful little town and cleans out the bad guys-{r,rather, encourages thern to clean out each other. An

elegant, poised, balletic, rernorseless, and deeply

amusing picture, beautifully photographed (in

290

widescreen black-and-white) by Miyagawa Kazuo,

with a great score by Saito Masaru. Venice, Best

Actor. 110 mins. DVD, Criterion.

Youth of the Beast (Yaju no seishun, 1963),

Suzuki Seijun. Shishido Jo takes on rival gangs to

avenge the murder of a friend. Actually, however,

the storyline is just an excuse for this joyous send-

up of violence. Lots of color, lots of laughs. !1 mins.

DVD, Criterion.

z

Zatoichi (2003), Kitano Takeshi. Beat Takeshi's

remake with himself in the title role. Lots of violence,

naturally, but at the same time a kind of noble

pathos, which shortly becomes tiresome. The all

singing, tap-dancing finale is welcome but it is rather

too short. 115 mins. DVD, Buena Vista Home Video.

Tntoichi: ru IW and Opinions of Masseu,r

Ichi (Zatoichi monogatari, 1962), Misumi Kenji.

The blind masseur who is also asensational swords-

man (Katsu Shintaro) became one of the most

durable of late period-heroes. Daiei made some

twenty-six sequels, several of them directed by the

star himself. It is critically agreed that Misumi (who

directed six of them) got the most out of the

matefia| 96 mins. DVD/VHS, Facets Multimedia.

l"Iilvt 291

JAPANESE HISTORICAL PERIODS

ANCIENT

Nzrra 710-94

Heian 7L)4_tIg5

MIDDLE AGES (MEDIEVAI,)

Kamakura 1185-1333

NoLthern arrd Southern Courts 1333-92

il'luronrachi 1392-I5i 3

WaLring States 1432-1573

PREMODERN

N,lomovana I573-1500

!,do (Tokugawa) 1500-1357

EARI,Y MODERN / MODERN

N,leiji 1.36.3-19t2

Taisho 1912-26

Showa 1LlZ6_1989

Heisei 1989 to present

CHAPISR 1

Beginnings and the Benshi

1. Komatsu Hiroshi and Frances Loden. "Master-

ing the Mute hnage: The Role of the Bmshi in

Japanese Cinema," in lris: A Journal of Tbeory

on Image and Sound,1996, p.34.

2. TanizakiJun'ichiro. Childhood Years: A Mem-

oir, 1988, p. 97 .

3 Konratsu and Loden. 0p. cit.,p.4).

4. Kirihara, Donald. "A Reconsideration of the Ben-

sbil' p. 48, cited in Keiko I. McDonald, Japa-nese Chssical Theatr irt Films, 1994, p. 26.

5. furdenon, Joseph. "spoken Silents in the Iapa-

nese Cinema," in RefrarningJcQarme Cinema,

1992, p. 285.

6. IMcDonald.Japanese Classical Tlteatu,p. 31.

7 . Sato Tadao. lVihon Eiga-shi (Le Cintirna

Japonais), Vol. I, p. 59.

8. tuidenon. 0p. cit., p.194.

Film, Theater, and Actors

9 McDonald, Keiko I. From Book to Screen; fulod-

ernJapanese Lituature in Fi\m,2000, p. 7.

Realism and Reality

10. Sontag, Susan. "Theatre and Fihn ," ttr Stylss efRadical Will,1965, p. 100.

1 l. Burch, N0€1. To the DLstant ]bsm'a; Form and

ltleaninS4 in the Japanese Cbtema , 1979, p. 147

12. Sato Tadao. "Nihon eiga no seiritsushita dodai

ni," in lVihon Eiga no Tanjo, Vol. I of Koza:

Nihon 8i9a,1985, p.33, cited inJoanne Bemardi,

Tbe Earh' DetteloPment oJ' the Gendaigeki

kreenplaj,, 1992, p. 24.

Western Influences

13. Ozu Yasujiro. Kinema Jumpo, March 1952,

cited in Leonard Schrader, ed., The rtIasters ofthe Japartese Film, 1972, p. 219.

14. Kurosawa Akira. Something Like an Auto-

biographt,, 1983, p. 35.

15. Sato Tadao. Stttdl' oJ Historl, 0f Film, No. lJ,

1979, unpaginated.

16. Sontag, Susan. On Photograpb1,,1977,p 23.

Tlre Gendaigeki

1 7. Benrardi, Joann e. The Early Da,eloPmmt, p. 52.

18. Yarnamoto Kajiro, pp. 31-33, cited in Bemardi,

Writing irt Ligbt; Tbe Silent Scmario and the

Japanese Pu,re Film XIot,ement, 2001, pp.

80-81.

19. Shindo Kaneto. "shinario Tanjo kngo," in Eiga

no Tanjo, ed. Sato Tadao, Vol. I, p.ZlJ, cited in

McDorrald,Japanese Classical Theatu, p. 37 .

20. Anderson, Joseph L. and Donald Richie. The

Japanese Film; Art and htdustry,,I982,p.4I

21. Bordwell, David. "A Cinema of Flourishes," in

Nolletti and Desser, ed., Reframirtg Japnnese

Cinerna, 1992, p. 334

22. Anderson and Richie. 0p. cit., p.44.

CHAPISR 2

Taisho Democracy and Shochiku

1. Konratsu Hiroshi. "Japa1-Before the Great

Kanto Earthquake," in The }xJbrd History ofWorld Cinema, 1996, p. 177

2. Kido Shiro .lVihon Eiga Den, cited by Marianne

Icwinslcy and Peter Delpeut, eds., in Producer

of Directors: Kdo Shiro,1995, unpaginated.

3. Ibid., unpaginated.

Ilre New Gendaigehi: Shimazu, Gosho,

Shimizu, Ozu, and Naruse

4. Ozu Yasu jiro. Carnets 1933-1963,1995,p. 87

5. Nolletti, futhur, Jr., "Woman of the Mist and

o

294

Gosho in the 1930s," in Nolletti and Desser,

pp.3t-32.

6. Kishi Matsuo. Nihort Eigct lbshiki-ko (0n Japa-

nese Cinema Style), cited in McDon ald, Japn-

nese Classical Theater, p. 19.

7. Ibid., p 19

8. Stanbrook, Allen. Sight ancl Sourtd, SpLing

1988, cited in Lewinsky and Delpeut, unpagi-

nated.

9 Bordwell, David. }zu anrJ the Poetia of Cine-

rna, I)88, pp.2J-24.

10. 0zr,r. Crtntets, p. 26

11. "Ozu on 02u," in Kinema Jrttnpo, June 19SS

and February I)64,cited in Schrader,yt.I77.

12. Sato Tadao. )zu Ytr,sujiro no Geijtr,tsu, Vol. 2,

p. 57, cited in Bordwell,)zu and lhe Poetia ofCinemu, p. 6.

13. Ozu. Canrcls,p. 100.

14. Sato Tadao. )zu,p 159

15. Bock, Audie. Japanese Fihn Directors,1978,

p. 102.

16. ,qnderson and Richie. 0p, cit., p 364

17. "Naruse on Naruse," in Kinema Jumpo,

Decerlber 1!60, cited in Schrader,p.354.

18. Bock, Audie. "The Essential Naruse," in Mikio

Naruse: A Master of the Japanese Cinema,

1984, unpaginated.

19. Naruse Mikio. "0n Japaneseness," fron Kishi

Matsuo's Collected Film Writirtgs, 1955, cited

in Schrader, p. 393.

20. Kurosawa. Autobiographl,', p. I 13.

21. Bock, Audie. "Naruse," unpaginated.

22. lwuaki Akira. "Naruse ardJapanese Traditioll,"

irr Studia of Japanese Filmmakers (Nihon

Sakka-ron), cited in Schrader, p. 425.

fire New Jid,aigehi: Itami, Inagaki, Ito,and Yamanaka Sadao

23. Suzukita Rokuhei. Quoted in TanakaJun'ichiro,

Nihon Eiga Hattaxr-shi, cited in Peter B. High,

'Japanese Film and the Great Kanto Earth-

quake of 1923," 1985, unpaginated.

24. Sato Tadao. Cltrrails in Japanese Cinema,

1982, p. 34.

25. Thorton, Sybil. The Japanese Puiod Film:

Rhetoric, Religiort, Realism, 1989

26. ttirih ara, Dona\d. Patturts oJ' Time; Mizoguchi

ancl the I 930s, 1992, p. 62.

27. Hasumi Shigehiko. "Sadao Yamanaka or the

New Wave in the 1930s irr Kyoto," irr Cinernaya,

No. 2, Winter 1988-89, p. 47 .

28. Sato Tadao. Cunents, p.222.

29. Ibid., p.222.

30. Petric,Ylada. "Vselvolod Pudovkin," in Richard

Roud, ed., Cinema: A Critical Dictionary,I)08,

p 800.

31. Richie, Donald. "Humanity and Paper Balloons:

Sorne Remark on Structure," Cirtema, Vol. 2,

Winter 1988-89, p. 54.

Nikkatsu and the Shimpa: Mizoguchi Kenii

32. Masumura Yasuzo. "My Film Apprenticeship,"

in Knema Jumpo, July-August 1!57, cited in

Sclrrader , p. 142.

33. Mizoguchi Kenji. Kinemct Jumpo, from an

interview with Kishi Matsuo, April 1952, cited in

Schrader, p.35.

34. Yoda Yoshikata. "souvenirs sur Mizoguchi,"

Cahiers du Cindma, August 1965, p. 34, trans-

lated and cited in Kirihara, Patterns of Tinte,

p.66.

35. Masumura Yasuzo. 0p. cit., cited in Schrader,

p. 142.

36. Richie, Donald. "Kenji Mizoguchi" in Roud,

p 699

37 . Yoda Yoshikata. Knema Jumpo, April 1961,

cited in Schrader, p. 9.

38. Shinoda Masahiro. "Far from Mizoguchi,"

Kfuenta Juml)o, in Schrader, p. 20.

39. Sato Tadao. Curruttt p. 181.

40. Ibid., p. 181.

295

41. Ibid., p 183

42. Shinoda. In Schrader, p. 118.

43. ttirih ara. Pattuns of Time,p. 136.

44. Ntizoguchi. Knema Jumpo,October 1956, cited

in Schrader, p. 21.

Expressionism, Kinugasa Teinosuke, and

the Leftist Film

45. Auerbach, Erich. Mimesis: The Represuttntiort

of Realitl, in Westwn Literatu,re,1953,p.6.

46. Fowler, Roger, ed. A Dictionar^1, of lllodern

Criticnl Tums, 1987,p. 84.

47. Miyoshi Masao . Accornplices of Silurce, 1974, p.

95, cited in Audie Bock, A Page Att of )rdu,1975,p.17.

48. Rajakaruna, D. A. Kinugasa Teinorukds

Cruzl' Page" and "Cr0SSr0adS," 1998, p' 5.

49. Iwasaki Akira. Knema Jumpo, October 27,

I926,cited in Rajakaruna, p. )ffi.

50. Kinugasa Teinosuke . Alihon Eign Shirmrio

Kotut Sensbu. Knema Jurnpo-sha, 1952, Yol.

1,p.144, cited in Rajakaruna, p. )ffi.

51. 0slrina Nagisa. Taikenteki Sengo Eizo Rort

(A Theory of Postwar Film Based on Personal

Experience), 1975, cited in Hirano Kyoko,

illr. Smith Goes to Tokj,o: Japanese Cinemn

Undu' the Amrican )ccupatiort: 1945-1952,

1992, p. 15

Criticism and Crackdown: Vorld Var II

52. High, Peter B. The Imperinl Sreen; A Social

Histort, of the Japanese Film; 1897- 1945 ,

unpublished, Chapter 10, p. 18

53. Davis, Darrell William. Pict m'ittg Japnn e,satas :

ful on umet ilal St1,le, Ncr tional ldenti t1,, Japa n ese

Fi,lm,1996,p.6.

54 Ibid., p. 108.

55. Yamamoto Kajiro. krtsudol,cr Suiro, cited in

Higlr, The hnpuial Screen, Chapter 1, p. 12.

56. Kanrei Fumio. Kinema Jumpo,April 1939,cited

in Ab6, Mark Nornes and Fukushima Yukio, Tbe

296 ::

Japan/Arnerica Film Wars; WWI Propagancln

and lts Cultttral Contexts, 1994, p. 259

57. Kanei Fumio. Figltting Mouies-A Doutmen-

tAri.st's Shou, History (Tatakau Eiga-Dokyu-

mentarisuto no Showa-shi), 1989, cited in Abe

and Fukushima, p.250.

58. Iwasaki Akira. , sahi Shimbun, April 4, 1939,

cited in Abe and Fukushima, p.260.

CHAPTTR 3

fire Occupation ofJapan

1. Hirano. Mr. Smith Goes to Tok1,o,p.54.

2. Dower, John. Embracirtg DefeaL Japan in the

Wake of World War 11,1999,p.432.

3. Kurosawa . Autobig,qraPh),, p. 144.

4. Sato Tadao. Currutts, pp. I2l-22.

5. Mellerr, Joan. Voices from the Japanev Cinema,

1975,p 105.

6. Hirano. 0p. cit., p.143.

7. The lVeu' York Times, Aug. 19, 1948, cited in

Hirano, p.237

Postwar Developments

8. Nolletti. "Woman of the Mist" in Nolletti and

Desser, p. 7.

Ozu and Naruse

9. Richie, Donald. )ztt His Lde nnd Filnts,1974,

p.27 .

10. Slrochiku, publicity brochure,7962, in Schrader,

p 249

11. Sakamura Ken and Hasuji Shigehiko, eds.

From Behincl the Carna'o; A Neu, Look at the

Work oJ Director Yaujiro 02tt,1998, p. 10.

12. "}zu on Ozll," in Kinenta Jttmpo, June 19SS

and Febru ary I)64, in Schrader, p. 185.

13. "Conversations with Iwasaki Akira and Iida

Slrinbe," in Kinema Jumpo, June 1958, cited in

Schrader, p.193.

14. Shochiku press release for the filmAn Autumn

Aftmtoon, I)62, in Schrad er, p. 24).

15. Ryu Chishu. "Reflections 0n My Mentor,"

Kinema Jumpl,June 1958, in Schrader, p. 26J.

t5. Slrinoda Masahiro. The Liuing }zu, Shochiku

pamphlet,1972.

77 . Ozu and Noda . Tokl,s Storyt. Trans. by Donald

Richie and Eric Klestadt, in Howard Hibbet,

Contentporary Japanese Lituature, 1977 .

18. Sato Tadao. )zu lhsujiro no Geiju,tsu, 197I,

in Schrader, pp. 295-99.

19. Naruse Mikio. "Portraying Humanness," in

Kinema Jumpo,April 1965, in Schrad er, p. 343.

20. Naruse Mikio. "Naruse on Naruse," in Knema

Jttrnpo, Decernber 1!60, in Schrader,p.366.

21. Ibid., p. 359.

22. Miztrki Yoko, The lVaruse Retrospectfu,e, 1970,

in Schrader, pp. 403-09.

23. Naruse Mikio. Interview with shimizu Chiyoda

andHazumi Tsuneo, Kinema Jumpq Decem-

ber 1952, in Schrader, p. 400.

24. "Ozu 0n 02u," interviews from I95I ard 196I,

KinemaJulnPo,June 19lS and February 1964,

in Schrader, pp. 176-77.

25. Naruse. "Poftraying Humanness," p.344.

Mizoguchi and the Period-Film

25. Shinoda Muahiro. "Far from Mizoguchi," in

KinemaJumpl,June 1969, in SchradeL, p. 126.

27. Mizoguchi Kenji. Kirtema Jumpo, 0ctober

1956, in Schrad er, p. 2J.

28. Mizoguchi Kenji. Interview with Kishi Matsuo,

Kinemn Jumpo, April 1952, in Schrader, pp.

29-30

29. Shinoda Masahiro, "Far from Mizoguchi," p. 1lJ.

30. Ibid., in Schrader, p. 112.

31. Kurosawa Akira . Kinema Jumlto, ApLil 1964, in

Sclrrader ,p. 135.

32. Masumura Yasuzo. Kittema Jumpo,April 1964,

in Schrader,p.I4J.

New Means: Jun-hungaha, Comedy, and

Social Issues

33. Kuros awa. Autobiographjt, p. 17l.

34. Richie. Japattese Cinema,; An Introduction,

1990, pp.123-24.

35. Johnson, William, "Toyoda and the Challenge

of Representation," tn Film Qu,arterly, Vol. 50,

No. 2, Winter 1996-97.

36. Kuros awa. Autobiographl,', p. 183.

37. Mellen 0p. cit. p. 106.

38. Ibid., p. 107.

39. Tessier, Max. Dossirs du Cindma (Cindastes

II), cited in Mellan,p. 99.

40. Richie. Japanese Cinerna; An Introduction,

p. 128.

4t. l,tellen. 0p. cit., p. 88.

42. tvtellen.0p.cit., p. 110.

43. l,tasumllra Yasuzo, "Kon Ichikawa's Method," in

James Quandt, ed., Kon lchikau,a, 2001 ,p.99.

44. Uellen. 0p. cit., p. 118.

45. Sato Tadao. Cttrrents,p.2I3.

45. Hoaglund, Linda. "A Convemation with Kobayashi

Masaki," in Positions 2-2 , 1994, p. 393.

47 . rbid.,p.3Bz.

48. Kurosawa Akira. Ikiru, Donald Richie, trans.,

1960, p 45

4!. Kurosawa Akira. Saten Samtrai, Donald

Richie, trans., 1960, 1992,p.225.

50. Iwasaki Akira. Cited in Sato Tadao,lVihon Eiga

Rironshi, 1977, partial, unpublished transla-

tion, Peter B. High.

51. Richie, Donald . The Films of Akira Kr,rlsanta,

1965, p.244.

52. Ibid., p.233.

53. Ibid., p.242.

297

CHAPIDR 4

The Advent of Television and the Film'sDefenses: Suzuki, Nakahira, Kawashima,

Imamura

1. Jaltanese Film: 2000,2001. Tokyo: Uni Japan

Film.

2. Buruma, lan. A Japanese Mirror: Heroes andVillatuts ofJapnnese Cttlture, 1984, p 149.

3 Sato Tadao.lVihon Eiga Shisoshi,I970,p. 391.

4. All three quotes frorn Burgeson, J. Scott. Bug,

Vol. 3, 1998, unpaginated.

5. Imamura Shohei. "The Sun Legend of a Coun-

try BOy," inJapanese Kings of the B s. uitgave,

Film Festival Rotterdarn, 1991.

6. Bock. Japa?tese Film Directors , p. 287 .

7 . Imamura Shohei. "The Sun Legend."

8. Nakata Toichi. "lmamura Interview," in Shohei

Imamura, ed. Jarnes Quandt ,1997 , p. 113.

9 Inranura Shohei. "My Teacher," in Japartese

Krtgs of the B s., p. I L

10. Nakata Toichi. "lmanura interview," p. 111.

11 lbid., p. 111.

12. Bock. Japanese Film Directors, p. 288.

13. Yanada Koichi. "Les cochons et les dieux," in

Cnhius du CindmA, N0. t55, Vtai-;uin, 1965,

p 31.

14. hnamura Shohei. "Traditions and Influeltces,"

inJapanese Kngs of the B's, 1991, p. l3I.

15. Richie, Donald. "Notes for a Study on Shohei

Inramura ," rn Partial Viants , 1995, p. I57 .

16. Ibid., p. 25 .

17. Imamura Shohei. "My Approach to Filmmak-

ing," inJapanae Kngs of tbe B's,1991,p.125.

The "New Wave": Oshima, Yoshida, and

Shinoda

18. Mellen. 0p. cit.,p.26l.

19. Turim, Maureen . The Films of )shima lVngisa,

1988, p 18

20. Mellen. 0p. cit.,p.254.

21. Mellen. 0p.cit., p. 12.

22. Turim. 0p. cit., p.33.

23. Bock. Japanese Film Directors,p.323.

24. Tantaya Rikiya. Nihon no Eiga Sakkatachi,

l975,cited in Bock, p 309.

25. Bock. Japanese Filnt Directors,p.322.

25. Buruna. 0p. cit., p. 50.

27. Mellen. 0p. cit.,p.254.

28. Yoshida Kiju. Quoted by Sato, in Kurosau,a Akirct

Eiga Taikai, cited in Keiko L McDon aId, Cinema

East: A Critiutl Stud1,of ltlajorJnpanae Films.

Rutherford, NJ., 1983, p. 172.

29. Bock. Japanese Film Directors,pp.34143.

30. Shinoda Masahiro. Quoted by Sato, in lVibon

Eiga Shishoi, 1910. Partial, unpublished trans-

lation, Peter B. High.

31. Quoted, Schrader, p. 25.

CHAPTTR

'Making Audiences

1. Schilling, Mark. Enclt6lspedia oJ'Japanese Pop

Cultrtre,1997, p. 10

2. Schilling . Contemporary Jcr,pctnese Film, 1999,

p.59.

3. Doraiswamy, Rashmi. "Kiyoshi Kurosawa," in

Cinemajz, Nos. 4748, Summer 2000.

4. rbid.

The New Independents

5. Schwartz, Robert. "The Beat and the Auteur "

Tbe East,Vol. DffVI, No. 6, 200t.

5. Gerow, Aaron. "ShinjiAoyama," Dail1, Yomiuri,

August 21,1999.

7 . Schilling, Mark. Contemporary Japanese Film,

p 30'

8. Sato Tadao. "Rising Sons," American Film,

December 1985.

g.rbid.

10. rbid.

298

11. Canby, Vincent. 'Juzo ltami," The Nw York 29. Gide,Andrd. The Countafeitus.

Times Magazine,June 18, 1989. 30. Abe, Mark Nornes. The Japan/America Film

12. Sato Tado. "Rising Sons." Wars,p. 191.

13. Gerow, Aaron. "TV and Globalization Tighten 31. Dower, John. 'Japanese Cinema Goes t0 War",

Grip on Film," Daily Yomiuri, December 2J, inJapan in War and Peace: Selected Essays,

2004. r995,p.53.

14. Shinoda Muahiro. "shinoda Speals on the 32. Sato Kenji. "More Animated Than Life," I(yoto

Future of Japanese Film," Japan Society News- Journal,No.4l, 1999.

letter, January-February 1998. 33. Rayns, Tony. Tokyo: Film Fatiuals, 1989, pam-

15. Schilling, Mark. Contem,porary Japanese Film, phlet.

P. 16. 34. SatoKenji. 0p. cir.

16. Ibid., p. 156. 35. Saro Kenji. 0p. c1.

17. Sato Tadao. "Rising Sons."

18. Richie, Donald. Yanagimachi interview, Aus-

tralian School of Film and Television, Sydney,

May 17 , 1994. For seminar on Yanagim achi,

unpublished.

19. Richie, Donald. "0n Yanagimafhi," The Toronto

Star, Novembe r 22, 1990.

20. Gardner, Geoffrey and Leslie Stem. "lnteryiew:

Mitsuo Yanagimachi," Film lVeuts,June 1982.

21. Richie, Donald. "Notes on Mitsuo Yanagimachi:

A NewJapanese Director," Film Criticism, Vol.

III, No. 1, Fall 1983.

22. Itaktra Kimie. "Kore'eda Inteffiew," '4sabi

Euming Ncuts, May 12, 1999.

23. Gerow, Aaron and Tanaka Junko. "Kore'eda

Hirokazu, Documentarists of Japan, No. I2:'Yanagata Film Festival, Doc Box, No. lJ, 1999,

p. 1.

Documentary mdAnime

24. AM,Mark Nomu,.Japanese Docummtnry Film:

The Meiji Era tlnough Hiroshirna,2003.

25. rbid.

26. Ruoff,Jeffrey and Kenneth.The Empuor's Naked

Army Marches O/1, 1998, p. 6.

27. rbid.

28. Richie, Donald. "Remarks on Haru Kazt)o,"

Intemational House of Japan Film Program

Series, 1998.

J ;\ l' A N I \ [" l] I t Nt 299

anime generic terrn for futuristic/sci-fi Japanese

animated filnt. See also tnango-anitne.

bakufu Edo-period (1500-1357) shogunate gov-

ernment.

benshi film narrator, cornmentator, lecturer-anaster of ceremonies whose appeanltce wzts au

assurned part of early Japanese filnt showings.

blue film earlier American terrn for hard-core

pornographic film.

bungei-eiga fihns based on literary novels. See

also jutt-bun,qnku .

bunrzhu the Japzurese puppet drama which attained

artistic maturity in the eighteenth century.

bushido the "way of the santurai"; the ethical code

through which this military elite was expected

to comport thernselves.

chambara sword fights in plays and filrns, later

a generic term for low-class sallturai pictures.

Chikamatsu Monzaemon Edo-period plaluright

(1653-1724) somewhat facilely called "the

Shakespeare ofJapan."

chiyogami-ei,ga early fonn of lantem-slide show

tusing paper cutouts.

dokuritsu purod,nkashon an independent

production.

e-maki painted or drawn picture scrolls.

eizo-sakka something like "artistic director."

ero-guro a style (in illustratiorr, fashion, film)which cornbined the erotic with the grotesque.

gendaigeki generic temr for films about contem-

porary life, as opposed to.ficlnigeki; also genchi-

t7t0n0.

gid,ayu a narrative chant (.loruri) that greatly

influenced kabuki rlnsic, though it originated

with bunraku.

giri-nin'jo personal inclination venus duty, often

300

in opposition and used as a prime plot-rnover in

conventional Japanese dranaturgy.

haha mono generic temr for films about mothers.

haiku a 17-syllable verse form consisting of three

rnetrical units of 5-7-5 syllables respectively.

hogaku traditional Japanese music.

ientoto the "grand master" of atradilional school:

noh, Japanese dance, ikeban a, andso 0n.

ikebana "livirrg flowers"; Japanese flower affange-

nent.

jidaigeki generic tenn for historical films, mainly

those of the Edo period (1600-1867); also

jichrimono.

jitsaroka - eiga realistic, often anarchist ic y akuza

films much given to entertaining violence.

joruri narrative commonly associated with bun-

raku.

jun-bungaku literature, as distinguished fronr

"popular reading." See also burryei-eiga.

kabuki one of the three major classicalJapanese

theaters (with noh and bunraku) which ma-

tured in the eighteenth century.

Kabuki-za a theater showing kabuki, usually

referring to the Tolcyo Kabuki-za.

hagezerifu "shadow dialogue"; an earlier kind of

film narration, later transforrned bv the benshi.

kamishibai "paper theater"; slide-show.

kanji ideographs, Chinese in origin, applopriated

by the Japanese to form one component of the

writteu language.

kata the way of doing things: the chains of nove-

ment in Japanese dance and martial arts; the

discrete units of noh, kabuki, and other forms

of drarna; the graduated techniques of using the

brr-rsh in Japanese-style painting; and so on.

Traditional and/or conventional forrns.

katarirnono recitations, spoken narratives, etc.

keiko-eiga films with definite (usually leftist)

political aims, sonetimes loosely translated as

"tendency films."

hi,maru the name for the poses in Japanese

classical dauce wheu actiou is stopped in order ni,hon buyo Japanese classical dance.

to adnire the tableau' Nihonjin-ron studies on the uniqueness of being

kishotenketsu narrative organizing principle. Japanese.

hoda,n didactic storytelling, much of whose mate- ninio seegiri-ninio.

rial is drawn from Confucian interpretations of ninkyo-eiga idealized, fo''alize dyakuzafil.rsrnedievalwar tales and historical evettts. of a purportedly serious moral c'ncern.

kokusaku-eiga "natioltal-policy fihns." nogahi advertising, hype.

hyogen comic plays, originally interludes in the - , , i o rrrorr anrirrrr ,,

rrolr, now evolved into a separate dramatic ronrr. *tf:r,#tt actresses; i'e'' nten actittg tlte paLt

kyuha "old scho'l," lnealling kab,ki a.d used in pfl photo-chemical Laboratories, l930sJapa.eseoppositior"t to shintltd ("new school"); the lattet

filur studio.terrr-r became generic for a particularly post-

kabnki kind of theater. pinku-eiga "pink rnovie"; soft-core pomographic

film.

kowairo the live "dubbing" of lines with full

emotion al emphas[5-" vsi6e-colori n g"-1159d

in early film presentations.

haltur-film pre-World War II iruport from

Germany, a form of documentary filrn.

rna aesthetic term designating an artistically placed

interval iu tirne 0r space. 0riginally a musical

term indicating silence.

mange originally a generic term for a category of

woodblock print. Now a generic term for Japa-

nese illustrated "colnic" bools.

manga-anirne a generic term for animated

films. See also anirne.

matatabi-mono movies about itinerant gan-

blem, ruffians, y akuza.

michiyuhi the "joum€|," a set piece in bunraku

and kabuki; the travellers are usually lovers.

rnono no a,ware an eurpathetic appreciation of

the transient beauty ruanifest in nature, includ-

ing human nature.

rnu a Buddhist term meaning "nothinguess."

nagaya eaLly (Edo?eriod) house 0r group of row

houses.

nakanad realism realisrn "without tears"; a

realisur which does not stress the nore dile

aspects of life as it is.

naniwabushi popular form of narrative ballad

based on traditioual narratives; also rokt,oku.

noh Japan's oldest extant theater, a fonu of dance-

drama originated in the fourteenth century.

Nuberu Bagu tlte "Nottvelle Vague," i.e., New

Wave.

obi kirnono sash.

rakugo a popular form of cornic mouologue.

rensageki an early twentieth-century form of

drama, part film, part stage preseutation.

rokyoku see nuniu,abushi.

roman-pomo soft-core pomograplry made mainly

by Nikkatsu in the 1950s.

ronin rlasterless samurai, "floating men."

sami,sen three-stringed banjo-like rttusical instru-

ment. Nso shontisat.

SCAP Sr-rpreme Cornrnand(er) of the Allied Powem.

setsumei prdcis or explauation.

sewamono a kabuki genre: "rnodern" plays as

distinguished froru historical drarua; usually

abor-rt the lives of ordinary people rather than

gods and heroes.

shakai-tnono films with "social" themes.

shimpa "uew school," in opposition to the "old

school" of kabuki; au iutermediate theatrical

form, partly Western.

shingeki "uew theater," comparable to that in

Western countries; opposed to classical Japanese

theater and distinct frorl sbirnpa.

301

shinJu double (or multiple) suicide, usually that

of lovers.

shinhokugehi, "new National dtama," an off-

shoot of shingeki and mainly concerned with

historical drama.

shinsei-shimpa alater form of shimpa which

purported to be a bit more realistic.

shishosetsu autobiogr aphical novel.

shomingeki films about the lower-middle classes,

the "little people." More strictly, serio-comedy

about the salaried classes. Also known as

shoshimingeki.

suibokuga literally, "water-ink-painting," mono-

chrome use of black ink on plain silk or paper.

suji "plot"; story, nanative, sequence.

tachirnaw ari kabuki-style sword fi ghting.

taiyozoku "sun tribe," alate 1950s phenome-

non; the "juvenile delinquent" in fiction and

films about rebellious youth.

tanka a 31-syllable poem consisting of five lines

in the pattem 5-7-5-7-7 .

tasuke a technique (now usually used for W

advertising) in which the same scene is shown

several times.

tntarni reed-covered straw matting used as floor-

ing in the traditionalJapanese room.

tateyuki "standing role"; male leal,often macho.

tsuma rnono generic for films about wives.

Tsuruya Namboku kabuki playrvright (1755-

t82D.

ukiyo-e "pictures of the floating world"; wood-

block prints usually of the Edo period.

utsushi-e an early form of lantem slide.

waha formally identical with the tanka, the waka

is often considered the more colloquial.

yakaza generic for gangster, gambler, thug, etc.

Zeani [Iotokiyo early playuright and aestheti-

cian (863-1440.

3oz

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Oxford University Press, 1990.

. Japanese Cinema: Film Style and

IV at'ional Character, New York: Doub led ay, 197 | .

.Jnpanese Film; Art and Industrj, (with

Joseph fuiderson). Princeton University Press,

r98z

. "Notes f.or a Study on Shohei Imamura,"

in Partial Vieu's. Tokyo: Japan Times Publica-

tions, 1995.

. "Notes on Mitsuo Yanagimachi: A New

Japanese Director," in Film Criticism, Vol. III,

No. 1, Fall 1983.

.}zu; His Life and Films, Berkeley: Uni-

venity of California Press, 1974.

. "Remark on HaraKazuo." International

House ofJapan Film Prograrn Series, Tolcyo, 1998.

Roud, Riclrard, ed. Cinema; A Critical Dictionan,.

London: Secker & Warburg, 1!08.

Ruoff, Jeffrey and Kenneth. The Ernperlr's Naked

Arm-t, Marches 0n. Trowbridge, England: Flick

Book, 1993.

Sakamura Ken and Hasuji Shigehiko, eds. From

BehinrJ the Camera: A lVeut Look at the Work

of Director lasujiro 02u^ Tokyo: University of

Tokyo, 199S.

Sato Kenli. "More fuiinated Than Life." Kyoto:

fi,oto JournAl, No. 41 ,1999.

Sato Tadao. Currertts in Jnpanese Cinema. Trans.

by Gregory Barrett. To$o: Kodansha Interna-

tional, 1982.

. Nibon Eiga-shi (A History of Japanese

Film). Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1995, four vol-

Lrmes. Translated as Le Chdma Japonais. Paris:

Centre George Porlpidou, 1!!8, two volumes.

. Nihon Eiga Shisoshi. To$o: Tolqvo

Shoten, I9lO. Partial, unpublished translation

by Peter B. High

. "Rising Sons." Americcttt Film, Decem-

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. Studlt of History of Film. Privately

printed (English only), unpaginated.

, ed. Eiga rto Tanjo. To$o: Iwanami, 1985.

Schilling, Mark. Contemplrar! Japanese Film.

New York: Weatherhill, 1999.

. Ertq'6lspedia of Japanese Pop Culture.

New York: Weatherhill, 1997.

. The Yakuza Mouie Book: A GuirJe to

Japanae Gangster Films. Berkeley: Stone Bridge

Press, 2003.

Sclrrader, Leonard , ed. Tlte Mastus of the Japanese

Film, unpublished ms., I9lZ.

Sclrwartz, Robert. "The Beat and the Auteut," The

East,Vol. K0ff1, No. 6,200t.

Sontag, Susan. 0n PhotogrnpDJ,, NewYork Farrar,

Straus & Giroux ,1977 .

. "Theatre and Film i' S4l\ut of Radical

Wll, New York tarrar, Straus & Giroux ,1966.

Tanizalt Jun'ichiro. Childhoocl I'ears: A Memoir.

Trans. by Paul McCarthy. Tokyo: Kodansha

International, 1988.

. Alihort Eiga Hattatsu-shL Tokyo: Chuo

Koronsha,1975.

TayanaRikiya. lVihon no Eiga Sakkatacbi. Tolcyo:

David-sha,1975.

Tlrorton, Sybil. Tbe Japanae Puiod Film; Rhetoric,

Religiort, Realism. Work-in-progress, unpub-

lished ms., 1989.

Turinr, Maureen. The Films 0f }shima Nagisn.

Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988.

Waslrburn, Dennis and Carole Cavanaush. Word

ancl Image in Japanese Cinema. Carnbridge

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Yantada Koichi. "Les cochons et les dieux." Paris:

Caltius du Cindn zT, N0. t55, l,tai-;uin, 1965.

305

A Nous ta Libertd 5l

Abaron 265

Abe Clan, The (Abeichizoku) 102

Abe Kobo l4o, 163, tg5,zlo,zgo

Abd Mark Nomes 247

Abe Yutaka .15, 4S

AbnormalFamily: M1, Brotber's Wift228

About Inue,Tok:l,o z4o

Actor's Ra,ntge, Art t56,265

Adulteras, Tbe t4g

Adt,entura of Chatran, Tlte zt4Affair, Tbe zo3

Afair at lhnrukura. See Crazed Fruit.Afraid to Die t6t,z65

After Learing Shinagau:a. See J'erl s

kgmd, The

Aftrr Life 24,265

Age of Etnotion, The 45

Ai rti tsuite Tokls 24,

Ai rto borei zi5

Ai no h.oridtt 201-2,232,275

Ai to kibo no machi t96

Akahige 168, 175,283

Akai hashi rto sbita no nurui rnint 190

Ahui satsui I87,216

Ahanegumo 2054AkanLshi Kakita 6s

Akarui Mirai ztg

Akasegawa Genpei 28J

Akasm chitai l3o,283

Akibiyoi t20,277

Akimoto Matsuyo .30

Akira zslAkira Kurosatua's Dreants. See Dreants.

Akutagawa Rpnosuke zaz

AkutagawaYasushi 271

Alllrlired Up. See ManjiAll Quiet on the Watmt Front 93

AII Undcr the Moon z3z

Altman, Robert l9lAntateur Club (Antachua kurabu) le,zze

Anata kaimasu 163

AndYet Thel Go }tt 79

Anrl Yet We Lh,e I18, 147

fuiderson, Joseph 20, 22

Anderson,leroy 4t

Anrltstt no hanal,ome 193

AngelDtut 218,223,265

Ani intoto 125,281

aninated film (anime) zst-ssAnjo-ke no butokai l12, 160

fulno Hideaki zs6

Artscttsu 207

Antonio Gaudi z6s

fuitonioni, Michelangelo l9F2o0

An1'a koro 137

306

Aoi sarnruJ'aku I4lAoyana Shinji zz4

fuaiWagoro 252

Arnkure 50, tz6

ArashiKanjuro 73

Arubigaoha zotAratama Michiyo tg4, z7o, z8t

Argat, L' 53

Afigato-scnt 5t

fuima Ineko I93,2s9

kiyoshiSawako tz9

Armecl Robber: Sbinizu Sadakicbi tl,2t,2t7

Arml' 93

Arm)'Adranca, The 9lArseniev, Vladimir z6s

Aru eiga kantoku no shogai: lllizoguchiKali no kiroku 149

Aru kmgo no sbogai t73,284

Aru 1o rrc seppun 109

Asano Shiro 17

,{sano Tadanobu 226, zl t, 289

,4shi rti scualtu onna 45 (1926), 139 (1952,

l95o)

,4shura no gotoh.u z3z

,4ssassination 207

, ssrusittation of R1,onta The zt'z

,4ssigtaliort, The 183

Asociation ofJapanese Motion Pictures t7

, strobol, 254

Atarashiki tsucbi tos

AtsumiKiyoshi 194,209

Atsuta Yuharu I19, 265

Auberye d Tokls, Une. ke Inn irt Toh,to,

Att.

Atrditiort ?23,265

Atrhtmn Aftmtoon, An l19, 120-21, 124,

265

Autttntn of tbe Kohatagatra Farnill,, The

210

h,alon z6s

Awashinra Chikage t31, 269, 287

Awata Urua 236

Awazu Kiyoshi 2o7,2to

BabaAtaru 205

Baba Masaru zs9

Bad Bo1's t92-93

Bad Compaty, 229, 266, 27 5

Bad Girl ts6

Bad Sleep WelL The t66,266

Baisho Mitsuko n5,zs9Bakumatsu tctil,oden 185, 185

Bakushu tzt,z69

Ball at the Anjo Houe ll2, 160

Ballad of NarqJuma (1953) t$-44,266Balkd of Nara)tatna, Tlrc (1989 189,266

Band of Nit{a 254

Bando Tsumasaburo 65, t4t,zlgBangiku tz6,z7t

Banhhed. Uin zo6

Battsbun llo, lzo, lzl, l23, zz1,zU,z77

Bara no soretsu 212

Banen lllusiott ztg,zz4

Brcarn 196

Batoru rou'afutru t79,266

Baltle of kut'anahajinta, Tbe toz

Battle Roltalg t79,266

Battler Witbout Honor or Huntanih' It9,22r,266

Beery, Wallace 58

Beijing Walrmelon 233

Being Tu,o Isn't Eas1, 266

Bengal 267

Bmi kontori 69,225

benshi tvzzBergman, Ingnar 2t2

Bemhardt, Sarah 25

Bettt,eut War and Peace lt}Biq,s\t Tbia,a, The ttgBig Collection of Shou,ct Era Songs, The

234

Big Parade, Tbe 97

Billionaire. A l40

Birunm no lategoto t52,t53,273

Black Cnt t5lBlack Lizard 266

Black, Rain 190.266

Bktck, Rit,u t63

Black. Snou, 2lo

Black &tn znBlacle Rurutu 225

Blood ancl Bona 233

Blood and Spirit 85

Blossoming Port, The lo5, l4o

Blossoms Haue Fallett. Tbe t52

Blue lllourttaitrs t4lBod1,, Tbe zttBoiling Point 22t,267

Bokuto kitan 137

Boncbi t5+55

Bordwell, David 4t

Boru Fightu SeeE/egl' toViolence.

Boro no kasbituri n3Bory,lP.tt tto ntachi t46

Bozage, Frank z9

Bowie, David 219

BoxuJoe zz9

Bo1' 2go

Bo1, Called Third Base, A ztz

Bo1,'t Sumrnu fu 1945, A ztz

Branrlnd to Kll tst,z6l

Bresson, Robert 212,240,241

Brirlt of tbe Anda t9lBright Future 2t9

Brokut DFum, The t4tBrokut-Dou,rt Filrn 255

Brontti, Emily 208

Brolhu zzz

Brotbers and Sistus of the TocLt Fantil1,,The t05

Bu,ild-Up, The. SeeGiants ancl Tq,s

bungei-eiga 94-96 See alnjun-bttngaku.Bufruel, Luis ztz

Bttrakktt empera: goddo Eido yu 239

Burgeson,J. Scott l8t

Burntae Harp. Tbe See Harp of Burma,The

Bunted ll[ap, The tgS

Burr, Raymond zlz

Buruma, Ian 180

Busittasntan's Scboolroom, A 228

X

Buta to gunkan 187,251

Butrana Tosbi no uta t94

BJ,oirt rlp sbinu to iu koto 236

Cabhtet of Doctor Caligari, Tbe 21,85,87

Canan, 229

Canby, Vincent 229

Capra,Frank z9,4t,to9

Carmm Coma Hotne I4lCarntnt's Pure Lorc l4lCarridre, Jean-Claude zzs

Cascading White Threar*. See WatrMagicinn, Tbe.

Castle of tbe Spidu's Web, The.See

Tbrone of Blood, The.

Cal, Shozo, and ftro Womut, A t37

Caue Kng, The: A Curious Story of NorthAmrica zz

censonhip 92-96, 109-l I

Ceremonl,, The 2rn,2l2

Catain Night's Kbs, A lo9

Chabrol, Claude t9z

Champ, The 5iChangeling, The XlClraplin, Charlie 28, 45, 50

Charistna 2t9,235,267

Charles Urban Company 26

Chekhov, Anton nz,zz7

Cbew1, Blossoms-A Fartla6, of S\nng253

Chmy Blossoms ofJapan, The 2l

Cherq, Uchard, Tbe tlz, 227-28

Cbi to hone 233

Chi to rei 85

Chi u,a kau,aiteiru 203

Chiba Kichizo 23

ChibaYasuki lo9, 179

Chichi ariki tos

Chichen Heart (Chikin hato) n4Cbika 251

Cbikamatsu monogatari 13l, 132, 133,

t62,286

Chikarnatsu Monzaemon 27, 148, 206, 232,

269.272,286

Childrm Hand ht, Hand tg4

Childrett in tbe Clnsvoom t9z,z49

Childrut in tbe Wind 96

Childrm of Hiroshima t49,267

Children of the Beebh,e rroChildren Wo Drau, tgz,z49

Cbizuko's Youngu Sistu 2J4

Chuji Kunisada ttCbuji Mah.a a Namefor Himself ttCbuji tabi nihki 69,1r,268

Cbuji uridasu ltCbuhon giretsu : jitsuroh u chusbingura

65

Chu,shingura 23,261

Cindmatographe LumiEre t7

Civil Information and Education Section(CI&E) tot,tog,z4r

Citilization za

Clair, Rend 15,94, t4t, t4z,z3o

close-up, initial 30, 4o

Clotba of Deception, The t6o

Clouds at Surwet 205

Colbert, Claudette 6z

College Is a Fine Place 92

composition, Japanese, defined S9

Conflagration, t5r5g, 267

Crazed Fruil t53,181, 18.3, t98,26l

Craz|,Familt, The 223

Crazy Page, A.Sire, Page )ut of Udm, A.

Crdp uscu le d, Toh1,s . See To k1,s Tutiligh t.

Crim,es of )h.ubo K1,oshi, The zzt

Crosvoacls 7s, s9,90

Crou,cled Streetcar, A l4o, l4l

Crucified Lours, The SwstoryfromChihamatsu, A.

Cruel Slorl,of Youtb, The 196,203,258

CruelTala of Youlb. See Cruel Storl,ofYouth.

crybafu' Apprent'ice 94, 95

Cuckoo, The:A Nan'Vrsion, 4o

Cure 2t9,268

Cqano clc Brgerac 113,284

Daburusu zz6

Daibosatsu toge t79, 287

Daigaku, taa clpta hredo S6

Daigaku 1,oi toko 9Z

Dancing Girl 64

Dancing Girlfrom lzu 94

Dani t5lDanr1,x1 94 (193il, 16l (1957)

Dare mo sbiranai 246

Darknas at Noon 148

Darknas in the Light tsz

Davis, Darrell William lol

Datln of the Soga Brotbrs' HuntingGrounrh, The 3l

Day Dru,m zo9

Da1lig67 pt*on. SeeViolmce at Noon.

Dead or Alit,e 223

Death fu, Hanging 198, 200, 290

Death Japanae S[4e. ke Funral, The.

Dedrh oa araibu: hanzaisba zz3

Dedicated Life, A 25t

Degas, Edgar z6

Dekigokoro 57-58,124

Dmtir Millinrdaire, k 94

Dasu Uzala z&

Ddsir Marrtriu. W hteil,tiarc of Murda.

Dia,n, of Chuji's Trarcls, A 69,1t,268

Disuntates, The 84Disney, Walt zsz

Distance 245,26s

Doctor Aka$ tgdocumentary filnr 26, t034, 247 -51Dodes' ka-rlen t55, tl 5, 268

Doing Time 233

Dokkoi ikitru ll8dnhuritsu lturofukushon 2t543Dokuso 3o

Donzoko 73, 17 r, 174, 17 5, 2llDoppelgringu (Dopperugenga) 2t9

Dora Heita 155

Doro no kau,a 231]8,2UDostoevsky, Fyodor 275

Dotsuitarunen 229

Double Suicide 206,269

Doubla zz6

Dovzhenko, Alekandr z4a

Dower,John lloDouvtfull of }sm, The 83

Douvttou,tt 179

Dreants 175,269

Dreams of lbuth r22

Dreanty Patriot, A 68

Dried Blood zoS

Drifting Weeds. ke Floating Weeds.

Drire, Tbe zz9

Aunken Angel ll5, 1.38, 168, 186,259

Duel at lcbijoji Temple 2a4

Duel on Ganr1,71 Islnnd zs4

Duo 242

Dupont, E. A. 9l

4,ing at a Hospital nG

E no naka no bohu no rnura ztz

E u,o kaku korlnmotachi t9z,z49

Earll,Spring 269

Ear$ Sumrner 121,269

Eartb (Alekandr Dovzhenko) 248

Eartb (Uchida Tomu) 85,94,r05,249

Eclair, l,'. See Lightuing.

Eco, Umberto zt4

Edison, Thomas Alva t7, t9,3t

Edogawa Rampo 218,266

Eel, The 190,216

Eicbi sutori 243

EihiShiina z6s

Eijanaika 189,269

Eikichi, Cbaufeur ts

Eisenstein, Sergei 41, 50, 88, 248

Elegy, to Violmce l8r8l,27oEM-Embalming 225

Empaor and tbe Gmual, The t79

Emperor's Hat 140

Empuor's NakedArmlt Marcha At, Tbe

250

Entpire of Passion. Ser-, h the Realm ofPassiott,

Empire of tbe Smsa See/n tbe Realm oflbe Smses,

Emu-maza 242,279

EnchantmeltL The zz9

End of Summu, The zto

Enemy of the People, An ll3Enjru dnsuto 218, 223, 265

Enjo r5v59,257

Enocb Arden ll.3

Enoken 288

Enomoto Ken'ichi 106

Entatsu no miuu basbo lls, 135

Quinox Flou'er 120,124

tro-gur0-nanso$u 54,220

Erogoto-sbi-tachi yoi : Jinrui-gakunJ,umon 188,281

Eros Plus Massacre (Erosu purasugyakusatsu) 203

EsumiMakiko 243,278

Etsuraku zgt

Eureka 225,270

h,angelion Sx, Neon Genais: &tange-lfon.

Erming Stream 127

Euery,76i7rf That Lilta 94,135

307

Exchange Studenb. See Trarcfn Students.

expressionisn I l, 74,84-96, 199

Ectreme Priuate Eros: Inte Song z5o

Faa, Tbe 2zg

Fau of Anothu, The t95,270

Famifi' Gamq The nt4z,Zl,Fantasia 254

Fantctqt of Madnme ButtrflY 252

Farfrom the Land of }ur Parents to5

Fararcll to the Earth.,4 (Farewellto the

tand) 239

Fashionable Wanderr, A lo9

Fathr 4647

Fathula,nd 9t

Femme fuTokyq Une. SeeWoman ofToh.1,o.

Femme Douce, Une z4t

Femma de la Nuit, Les. SeeWoman ofthe Nigbt.

Feyder,Jacques 74

Fighthtg Eleg,.ke Eleg' to Violence.

Fighting Frimds,Foreign Stfle S6

Frybling Soldin lM, tt4,248

film d'art 25

filnr stars, emergence of n-zsFin du Rdgne dc Louis XVl-Rdt,ohttion

Frantnise,l-a 2l

Fire Fatiual zSg,zl+

Fire Within, The 228

Firefliw t35

Fira on the Plain, t53-54,250,270

Firarcrks, SeeHana-bi.

Fitzmaurice, George 286

Fiue Scouts 9&-99, 154, 183

Fiue Womm around Utamaro. See

Utamaro and His Fh,e Women.

Flaherty Robert 247

Flnme of Torrn ail . See Cor{hgratiott .

flashback, initial 30, 4o4lFlat,or of Greut Tea ot,r Rice, The 271

Floaling Clouds tzlFloating Weeds 122,2l|

Flou'ittg 126,128,271

Flunh,7,,Worh Hard st

Focus(Fokasu) 226,zll

For lhlafrs nsF or birJden . ke G o ba tto .

Ford,John to9

Forfi'-Sarm Ronin, The. ke LoJ,al Forb,Seum Ronin, The

Forfi, -Satm Samurai. See Chushin gura.

Four Saxoru of Cbildrm 96

Four Seasorn of l-are, The tsz

Frdre et Soatr. fuOlfur Brotlnr, Younger

Sislr.

From V(here Chimnq,s 1re Sem ll8Fue no sbiratarna 5l

Fuefuhi-gawa t44

Fufu t25

FujiTatsuya 275,276

FujimoriSeikichi 9t

Fuiita Susumu 213, 280, 2U

Fujiwara Kozaburo z6

Fujiwara Shinii zz6

Fuiiyama Naomi 229

308

FukaiShiro zzs

Fukasaku Kenta 179

Fukasaku Kinii 179, 22t,266

FtkuawaShichiro t43, 266

Fukuro l5l

Fuku,ro no shiro zog

Fukushu stffurra u:are ni ari 190,251,

289

Full Life, A 193

Funakoshi Eiii 266, 270,278

Funual, Tbe 218, 23w3L 27 |

Funral Parade of Rosa ztz

Furin kazan 284

FurukawaTakumi 15.3

Furumaya Tomoyuk 229, 266

Furl's sborrcn 192-93

Futagawa Buntaro 66

Futari 234

Futarizuma 6l

Gable, Clark 6z

Gaicbu 229

Game zz6

Gan 136,279

Gate of Flah,Ihe t8o,27l

Gate of Hell, Ihe 32,86,88, lo2, 272,282

Geisba, A 212

Gehimetsu rto uta lo9

Gernbaku no ko 149,267

gutfuiigeki @adnimono) 23, 324?,,

4&Gmdarme Mtibius loGmji monogatari t38

Gutroktt cbwhingura lo2, 278

Gatle Art of Japanese Erlortion, TIte

230,279

Gmtle Tuelt,e, The zza

Gere, Richard zs3

Gerow, Aaron 224, 236, 246, 251

Ghost in tbe Shell, The 256,272

Gbost Sbip zsz

Giants and To1,s 16l,212

giclal,u narrator 20

Gide, Andrd zsz

Ginga tetsudo tto yoru. 256

Ginza no onna 160

Gion bayslli 272

Giort Fatiual Mtsic.See,Geisba, A.

Gion no kJ,odni 62,8t,82,83, 130, 160,230,

285

girininjo 69, 93, lJg, 206, 209

Girl Wbo Touched His ttgs, Tbe 45 (1926),

139 (1952, l960)

Gishiki zw

Glory of Life, The 34=35

Go 229

Go Hiromi 272

Go-bime t96

GobanTadnnobu 24

God Speed You! Black Empror 239

Godard,Jean-Luc t9z

Godzilh: Final Wars t78

Godzilln, Kng of the Morrters 118,272

Gohatto 202, 221, 232, 21 2

Gojira t78,272

Gohuda kuro sbakai reini clagS4u ztl

Golden Demon, The 2L3940

Golem, Dr s6

GomikawaJumpei l&,274

Gonin zz3,ztz

Gonin no sehhohei 9&-99, 154, 183

Gonza the Spearman 208,272

Good Morning 273

Good-for-Notbing 203

Goodbl'g CP 250

Goodfelln tgtGor$, Maxim 39,174,277

Gosho Heinosuke 4G50. 4e-5l,lo5, I 18,

135-35

Gosa de Tok1,o. See I Was Bom BuL . .

Grande llhtsion, In gS

Green, Henrv 56

Griffith, D W. 28,41

Grou'irtg UP qg,50, 135, 136

Grudge, The 218

GuniiJironasa 284

gurnbin loo

Guts of an Angel, The 223

Guryu Hachiro z6u

Gwhufunsha lhzoku 223

H stor1, 243

Hacbi no su no kodnmo-tachi ttoH achigatsu no kyoshi kJ'o ku (rhaPsoth')

115,283

Hachiko monogatari zt4

Hadaka no juk:vu-sai t5lHarlnka no sbima t5o,27g

Hagiwara Masato z6s

Haha to ho 94

haba-mono, defined ttz

Hakai t55

Hakoiri mrcume 57

Hakucbi zls

Hakucbu no torima 2oo,29o

Hakujilsumu 209

HmndaTasuo ll9HamamuraYoshiyasu I19

Hana cbirinu 152

Hana-bi zzt,213

Hanagata smshu 53

Hanare goze Uin zo6

Hanasaku minato lo5

HanayagiHarumi 34

Haneda Sumiko 249,250

Hani Susumu 192-95, 246, 249, 2l 5, 285

HaraKuuo 25v51

Hara Masato 226

Hara Setsuko 73, 108, lll, l12, l19, 178,269,

2J0,275,211,280,289

HaradaMieko 235

Harakiri 164,213,282

Harp of Burma, The 152,153,213

Hart, Williarn S. 28,65

Haru no genso. W Char1, Blosoms-AFantaq,of SWvg

Haruka narifubo no kuni lo5

Haruka, nosutaruji 234

Harukawa Masumi 187

Hasebe Keiji ls7, 267, 276,280

Hasegawa Kazuo 65, t57, 265, 212, 286

Hasegawa Shin 64, 179

Hasegauw to Roppa no lemitsu toHikoza loz

Hasbi no nai hau,a 148

Hashinoto Shinobu 138, 148, t65,t66,213,282,294,297,299

Hasurni Shigehiko z4

Hatachi no seisbutt lo9

Halsukoi jigokuhen t94, 276

Hatntt no ugohu sbiro zS6

Ha.u'ai-mare ohi kaism lo2-3

Hawk, Howard z3o

Hayakawa Sessue 36

Ha,vasaka Funio 282, 287, 289

Hayashi Chojiro See HasegawaKuuo

Hayashi Fumiko 64, 179,277

HayashiHikam zTg,z9t

Hayashi Kaizo 235

HazumiTsuneo 99

He arul Life 4S

Hearn, Lafcadio t65,276

Heitai y6afr47o t6z-63

Helpla.s zz4

HmtutheWind,A ll9Hantai hazoku:Aniki no yomesail 228

Ha'e's to the Girls t4tHa'oic Ptu'gatory, 293

H m'h rybon e Cl o u rh. See Su nt m a'Clouds.

Hidaka Shinya zza

HidariBokuzen 278

Hidari Sachiko 187, 193, 276,2s5

Hidnrikihi rto sogekisha: Tok.to tlail zltHidrJst Forlras, Tlte 75,112,213

Higanbana 120,124

Higashi Yoichi ztz, zz3, 226

Higb and Lou, t6g,z74

Higb School Panic zz3

Higuchilchiyo t35,t47

Hiko shojo 186

Himutsuri 239,274

Hineida Tadayoshi zso

Himeyuri no to 141

Himo l5r

Hirano Kyoko ll5Hirayama Hideluki z:S

Hiroki Rprichi zs9

Hiroshima l5o

Hirosbirna, lllon Amour 150,243

Hirotstr Kuuo 277

Hisaita Eijiro nt, 112

Histon' oJ-Postu,arJapan ,as Told b1' n BarHostess,l (Histoire du Japon Racontde

par une H0tesse de Bafl t8g,z74

HokusaiTokitaro 7o

Hole, Tbe. See Aibanu.HomnaYohei 270

HommaYuji 239

Honda Ishiro ]8,272Honjitsu hyushin t4o

Hortrto l5lHonoo Kayoko za;

Hoodlum Soldis, The t6z-63

Hori Kyusaku 97, lo8, lo9

Horses 92, lo3, lo5

Hosokawa Chikako 2zz

Hosoyama Kiyomatsu J0

Hotarubi B5

Hotil's Mot,ittg Ccntle 256

Huntun Anguish l7Hutttan Bullet 179

Httntan Condition, The t64-4S,zl4

Huntan Suffering 77

Huntattitl,and Papu Balloons 72,

15-76, t86,274

Httnger Straits g6

Hurttittg Rifle 85Husbuncl and Wife tz6

Huston,John 109

I Are lbu, You Ant, Me.SeeTransfnStudails.

I Graduated, But. ,. 56

I Lit,e in Fear. See Record of a LiuingBeing, TIte.

I Wcu Born, Bul 45,51-59,96,230,215

Ibuse Masuji 266

Icbiban utsuktuhihu to6,2tg

Ichikawa Danjuro IX 18,25

IchikawaJun 215, 23d37

Ichikawa Kon 59, tsz-59, t55, zt4, zzz, 236,

250,253,254

Ichikawa Kon (DVDAideo Guide) 265,255,

267, 27 0, 27 3, 27 8, 280, 288

Iclrikawa Raizo 159, t6z,z6l,zllIchikawa Utaemon 278

Ide Masato zsz

Ide Toslriro 117, 147, 184,271,271

Idiot. The zts

Iftrkube Akira zs4

Ii emtt embamingu 225

Iida Choko 283,286

Ijitt-tachi to no natsu 234

Ikebe Ryo 269,?Bt,z86

Ikeda Tadao 57,95,286

Ihru ningto e6

Ikeru shikabane 34

Ihimono no kirokr,t t61, 173, z5t, z8z

Ihinafuraibo t09

Ikirtr t59, t73, zo4, 27 5

Ikitgi t43

Ikitosbi ikuu ntono 94,13s

I'll BuyYou 163

Inta hitohtbino t35

Imai Tadashi n3, t45-l9,256

Imanrura Shohei 59. 151, 185, 215, 223,2q9,

250,251

Inamura Shohei (DVDlVideo Guide) 266,

269,214,276,28r, 289

impresionism 11,84

In tbe Realm of Pcnsion zl5

tu tbe Realm oJ'tbe Senses z0l-2, z3z,zi5

Inagaki Hiroshi 62-5s,,257, zB3, 284

huztuna 129,217

Ince, Thomas 28

independent film u t6-43

h{rno of First Inre, The t94,z16

Inn in ]saka, An 49,51, 135, 136

hn in Tohyo, Art 51,216

Irtnocent trlaid, An 5l

Inomoto Masami 243

Inoue Masao 30

Inoue Yasushi nS, n7,zB4

hsect WomAtt, Tbe 187,190,276

htentions of tlurdu tB7,276

httoluance 28,39

Irezunti icbicki ftoIrie Takako 279

Isaka Satoslti 226,211

IshibashiRyo 265

Ishida Tarnizo 152

Ishihama Akira t64, 173

Ishihara Shintaro 153, l8l. 205, 281

Ishihara Yujiro 182, 268

IshiiKuniko zz6

Ishii Sogo zt8,zz3,265

Ishii Takashi zz3,z7?,

Ishimoto Tokichi z4s

Ishioka Masato zzg,z}5

Iskutd, The. See Nahed hlattd, Tbe

Islartd Womm 40

It Happmed Arc Night 47,62

Itakura Kimie 246

Itani Juzo 6s, z t8-t9, zz9-3t, 270, 27 t, 279,

281

Itanri Mansaku 5z-6s,91, 108, 133,22g,248

Ito Daisuke j5, 69-10,72, 133, ti,6, t7g, zz4,

248,268

Ito Einosuke 94

Ito Kisaku zs4

Ito Sachio t4z

Itsuu,arqu seiso 160

Iwai Shunji 225

IwasakiAkira 62, ro4, lo9, n4,159,248

httasbi.q,unto 281

Iwaslrita Shirna 206, 265, 269, 272

Iwaya San'ichi 285

Izo zz4

Izu rto odoriko 94

Izumi Kyoka 79

Izuniya Shigeru 269

JanQirtgu 255

Janguru taitei 255

Japan and theJapanae t57

Japan's Longal Da1' 179

.lapanae Derih zSo

.lapanae EEerlition to lhe South Pole,

The z4t

Jaltane,re Girls at tbe Harbor 5z

Japanare Tragedl', A (1946) 114-15, 250

Japanae Traged1,, A (195]) ttl,276

Japanae Village. Furryashiki, A 249

'Japanesenes" l0-ll, 42, 101-2, I18, 213,

2v,259

Jasei rto in 36

jidaigehi lj irlai mono) n-,24, 64-96

Jigokl t mon 32, 86, 212, 282

Jingi nah.i tatahai ]9,22t,266

Jinno Hiroal,s zzl

Jinro 256

Jfusei no ai 45

Jirokichi, the Rat Kid 69

JisoiiAkio ztz

Jout 203

Joiuchi 165,282

Josd Toma t96

Jot'Girls. See Jlo41, of a Prostihte

Joyce,James l5o

309

Judo Saga. See Ssnshiro Sugukt.

Juliro ts,t9

Juh.1,tt-sui tro chizu 239

JunQing ?55

jun-bungaku 49,60, 134-39, 179

Jungle Enlteror Leo 255

Jurtirtin rro .tutsubii rtihonjin zzt

Jurtjo 6o

Jtt-on zttJttt,uile Palssiort, See Crazecl Fruil

Kabe ubu,ki be1,a 163

Kabuki, influence of te, n.v3-44Kaeriyitna Norimasa .32-34

Kaga Mariko zst

Kagawa Kyoko l.lr, 137, 166,266, z7s.zt9.

286

ktgentusha l0'2. 17 5, 276

kagezerifit 2t

ktgi t59,zso

kidan t65,276

ktitlttn )iun no borei 179

Kaiko Ken zzz

(diro zt9

Kaiser, Georg 85

krkituAkardshi 6a

krkusbi loricle n0 s(nt aktnin 75,V2,'J]3

kunncbi zza

Kamehara Yoshiaki 36

KameiFumio lo4, ll.3-14, 248,258

ktmiganti nofukaki l,okubo 188-89

hcnnisbibai tM

ktmo l5l

knmriu zz9

Knngeki jichti 46

kulincho 106

Ifunojo to knre 193,285

ktrtzo sensei t9o

IQto zz9

Ifutrahh,aze l,aro 16l, 265

knakuri musume 50

ktral,spi-tnn: The ll{aking of a Prosti-tute l5l

ktre to jinsei 45

ktrisuma ztg,z35,z6j

I(arummjunjosu 14r

I(arutnen kokt'o ni kauu l4lKataoka Chiezo 65, 67

Kataoka Teppei !lKato Daisuke t7t

Kato Tai t7s-19

Karo Yuii 226

Katsu Slrintaro t63, 216, zgt

KawabataYasunari 53, 54. 87-ss, z8l, 286

KawaguchiHiroshi zzt

Kawaguchi Matsutaro 272

ktu,aitct hana 204,281

Kawakita Kashiko zrz

Kawakita Nagamasa to8

kru:anakajima Gassat 102

Kawarasaki Chojuro zzs

Kawase Naomi 24142,281

Kawashima Yuzo 46. ls3-86

Kawatake Mokuarni 7'2,274

Kawaura Ken'ichi 3t

310

KawazuYusuke 268.287

krlvrko no lame ni 238

Kayama Yuzo 283, 287

Ihzahana 145

ktze no nakct no koclomo 96

ktze no naka no menclari ttgIttzoh.u g,ent u z3t-32, zio

Kedzierski, Gnegon 265

Keijo lo5

heiko-eiga genre 90,91, ll3-15, 146

Keimusho rto ttaka 233

Keisctlytkan g6

Kerrka mji 180-8t.270

Kq,, Tbe. See )cld )bswsiorr.

Kiarostami, Abbas 244

Kikuchi Kan t72

Kid, The zs

Kido Shiro M46,47,60,96, ro9, 124, 129,

196,197

Kiga haik.1,o a6

Kiki's Delirrt' Sen,ice 256

Kku antl Isemtu 148

Kikuchi Kan 51,78,86,99, 104, 108, 109,271

Kktrjiro zz5

Kikushina Rluzo 166, 213, 265, 285, z8.g

Kikuta Kuuo 282

Kill 179

Kintba tbe Wbite Lion zss

Kini no n(t t(a t79

Kmiko 186

Kimura Isao 171,287

Kindai Eiga, fonnation of ttgKnemaJtmeo 95,J31,264

Kirtg tear flS

King, Stephen 218

Knokau'a 179

Kinoshita Keisuke 44,91, toS, 14o-/5, 266,

276,289

Kinugasa Teinosuke 32, 86-90, 102, 13.3,

156,212,28t

Koku ga tnhinatrureta toki z,tl 4S

Kirihara, Donald 69

Kirsanoff, Dimitri 84, 8{t

Kiru 179

Kishi Keiko t54,269,286

Kishibe lttoku 234

Kishida Kunio 94

Kishida Kyoko 162, 278, 290

Kishinoto Kayoko zzz

KishitaniGoro z3z

Krusar t6t

Kitahara Mie lsz,25s

Kitano Takeshi 59, 179, zo9,zt5,zt6,220-23, 224, 225, 233, 234, 24t, 259, 266,

272,278,219

Kitano Takeshi (DVD/Video Guide) z6t,

273,286,291

Kitaoji Krrya 239,27+

Kitayana Seitaro z5z

Ktockout ?29

Kobayashi Kizaburo 3 l-.32

Kobayashi Masaki l4l, 16}-65, 261,273,

274,276,282

Kobayashi Sachiko zst

KobayashiSetsuo z7t

Kobayashi Toshiko z6t

Kobayashi Yoshinori 270

Kocbil'nma Soshutt 7z

KodaAya ztt

kofuin 65

Kodnmo no shiki 96

Koestler, futhur t4s

Kogure Michiyo t38.272,283, 287

Kohalugauw-h.e tto aki zlo

Kokaku kiclotai 256,'nz

Koko clnipurtihhu 223

kokusuku eigct lo2{Kohushi tnuso 68

Komada Koyo t7, tS,:6

Konratsu Hiroshi 44

Koneko ntonogtturi zt+

KonishiRyo 13

Konjikirarha 'tt

Kono buba u'o mi-1,o )lKore'eda Hirokzu 24317,149, l5l, 265,

?68,178

Koroshi tto rnkuin 181,267

Kosbiben gambure 5t

Kosbikei 198,200,290

Koster, Henry tZ8

KosugiMasao zotl

Kotani, "Henry" 36

Kotegawa Yuko 278

Koto 179

KouchiSumikazu z5z

kou,airo 2t

Koyama Akiko zso

Kubo Akira zsz

Kucbizuke t6t

Kujira 252

kultur-filnt 98, 247 48, 249

Kurnagai Hisatora lo2, lo8

Kunai Kei l5l

Kumashiro Tatsuni zlo

Kuttto to cburippu 253

Ku, monosu-jo t7 3-t 4, zB8

Kunieda Kanji 2s!

KunimuraJun 287

Kunisach Chuji 7l

Kuragejima: Ihlat Jiom a SouthentIsland 188-89,230

KuraharaKoreyoshi ztlKurihara, "Thomas" 36,226

Kurishima Sumiko 7s

Kurita Toyomichi zo3

Kuro tokage 266

Kuroda Kiyomi 281

Kuroi ame t90,266

Ktroi jurtin ?to otma 154

Kuroi hau'a t63

Ku.roi tails 21,

Kuroi yuki zto

KurokiKazuo 66,ztt

KurosawaAkira zg, 50,65,72,102, ll0, ll9,16G76,2?2.255

Kurosawa Akira (DVD/Video Guide) 266,

263, 269, 27 3, 27 4, 27 5, 27 6, 217, 27 8, 2t g,

280, l8l, 282, 283, 284,285,286, 288, 2go

Kurosawa Kiyoshi zt+ts, zt6, zte_tg, z?4,

235,24t,267,268

Kttru,lta icbipqi .32, 85-90, 281

Ktrtttilt kajiLut 153, l8l, 183, 198,267

Kusa Hiroshi t4z

Kutsukake Tokijiro: vuh1,o ippihi tllKuwano Miyuki 258,280

Klaidnn t65,2j6

Kyo Machiko l30, 13l, 138, 157, 160,270,

27 2, 280, 281, 282, 283, 289

Kyogoku Takahide 249

Kyojin to gangu 161,272

Kyohusbiteki a'osu: Koiuta 1974 zso

Il,oshitsu no kodamotacbi t9z,z49

I9,oto t51

I(J,oJ,a Collar Shop, The (Kyoya eri nise)35,78

IA,ua zt9,z58

kJ'uba zz,z4

I$'upora no ctrlt macbi tg5

['Herbier, Marcel s3

ktdl' a7r4 tnr, ,n

I-ad1,for a Day z9

ktdl' lVlusctsbitto 81,277

I^akwifu fulurder Case zz5

ktscitioustrcs of the Viper,The 36

Inst ktugh, The 4t

Inte Autumn t20,271

Ittte Clrysanthemums 125, 277

Inte Slning ll0, 120, t?t,t23,228,244,211

hughing Frog 235

kgutd of Musasbi, Tbe 283

Ingad of tbe Forest, The zs4

Letzte Mann, Der el

Lieutnmnt's Daughter, The 30

Ltfe of a Film Director, The t49

Ltfe of a Tattooed Man, Tlte t8o

Ltfe of a Woman, by Saihaku, The. See

Life of )haru.Life of Budd,ha, The rtrLife of )baru, The 81, l3l, t32,277

Lifeline ABC 9t

Ligbthouse, The r43

Ligbhting 129,217

Like, sura 232

Lion King, The 255

Little Brothr t5lLhing Corpse, The 34

Liring Puppel A 86,91

Long-Sougbt lllotha. Ser-, Inue for aMothr.

Looh at This Mother gt

Lost Paradise z3z

Lost Seu t5tLouefor a Mother 179

Loue lettu 225

Inue of Life 45

LoueSuicidcs at Sonezaki t5z

Lou,tr Depths, Tbe 73, ] t, n 4, t7 5,211

Loyal For\,Satnt Ronin, The

rg07 23

l9I2 29,66, llo1917 29, llo1928 6s, rro

I94I 91,lo2, no, t33,ziy

1962 267

Lubitsch, Ernst I 1,29, 45, 62,230

Lttkatctrm Watn undm the Bridge t9o

Lumidre. See Cin6matographe Lunidre.

Lust of tbe White Srpat4 Tbe 36

l[i aborosbi 243-44, z5g, ztllllabucLtchi 229,266

Mabuta no bana 179

Macbetb t13,28

Madndals Us,ztvfrlaclame Yuhi t3lMadnmu to nyofio 49

trlademoiselle Q,u. See MN O1'u.

frlahiru no anhohu 148

rtlaihime 64

Maiku Hama 235

Majo no takfuubirt zs6

Makino Masahiro lo2, lo9, 2lz

Makino Slrozo 24, 29, 6445, 222

Makioka Sisters, The t59,z7g

Mallet-Stevens, Robert 53

Malraux, Andr6 t54

Man Blou,n by tbe Wind, A. keAfraid to

Die.

Man Vanisba, A 187-88, 189-90,251

Man lVho kfr His Will on Film, The zot

Man Witbout a Map, The tgs

Man'in dtnsba l4o

Man-Slasbirry, Horse-Piercing Su,ord 66

m,anga 251-58

Manji 152,278

Maple Viadng tttularital Relatiorx t36

Madnge Cirde, The 29.48

Martin, KarlHeinz 77

Marusa no uma 230,287

Marusa no onna zohu 287

Masaoka Kenzo 252,253

Masuda Toshio 255

Masumura Yasuzo 65,Bq, t50-63, 198, 265,

212,278

Mata au bi mafu t4t

Mata no hi no Chika zst

Matatabi tSl

Matsuda Eiko zz6

MatsudaYusaku 23t, z7o

MasuiMinoru z5o

Matsumoto Miku zsS

Matsumoto Reiii 255

Matsumoto Toshio 212,249

Matsumura Tatsuo z7s

Matsuyama Tnnzo 142, 27 4

lvlat Mott Amour 202,278

Ma1' 1*,,r, / Jobn Rice Kiss, The t9

MayamaSeika to2,27s

Mayuzumi Rintaro 218

Mayuzumi Toshiro 267,290

McBain, Ed 274

Mellen,Joan t46

Mm of Tobohu, Tbe t57

Mat Wbo Tread on the Tail of the Tiger,

The. keThE'Who SteP on the Tigu'sTail.

Me?illmontanl 8Meoto zenzai 136

Merry Cltristmas, Mr. Lauryutce 221,226,?70

lvlahi 64,11

l[etropolitan Sympbony 7&-79, 9l

michil'sfr; 152

Mifune Toshiro sl, 138, 155, 155, t67, t72,

t7 8, 266, 257, 269, 2l 3, 2t 4, 27 5, 27 8, 282,

283, 2u, 285, 286, 281, 288, 290

Miike Takashi r79, 2t7, 220, 223-24, 235,

265,289

lllike Hamntr 235

Mikkai tslMikuni Rentaro 2M, 27 3, 283. 287, 289

Milestone, kwis 93

Million, k 75

Millian R1,o Pol, The 72,74

Milo and 1tis zt4

Mimbo no utna 230,237

Mimura Shintaro 66,274

Minamata: The Victims andTheir World249

Minato no nihon musume 52

LIinbo: Or the Gmtle Art of JapanaeEtctortion 230,279

illiwhu no tehi tt3Mishima Yukio 158, 152, 255,266,267

Miss O1,u 81,279

Mr. Fortune lvlah,u ll9Mr.ThanhYou 5t

Mistras, The 86,219

Misumi Kenji 178, 222,291

Mitasareta seihatsu 193

Mitsui Hideo 286

Mitsumura Shintaro Zz

Miura Mitsuo 279

Miura Tomokuu 243

Miwa Akihiro 256

Miyagawa Ichirota 231

Miyagawa Kuuo 267, 27 l, 27 9, 280, 286, 287,

28g,2gl

MiyagiMariko 250

Miyajinra Yoshio 27 3, 277

Mfi,amoto Musasbi zt3

Miyamoto Nobuko 230,219,287

Miyamoto Teru 244,278

Miyauchi Fukiko zo4

Miyazaki Hay ao 256, 257, 219, 281

MiyuawtKaz;uo 272

MiyoshiMasao g7

Mizoguchi Kenji 35,51,91, l0l-2, 105, ll0,t2y34, 199, 225, 230, 232, 240, 255

Mizoguchi Kenji (DVD/Video Guide) zzz,

277, 2J g, 27 g, ?81, 282, ?83, 2u, 785, n6, n7,289,290

Mizuki Yoko tz5, t47, t65,211,219,281

Mizushina Kaon 229

Mizutani Hiroshi znMochizukiRokuro zzg

MochizukiYuko 276,277

nrodemism, defined 55-56, 58

Moe no suzaku 241,242,287

Moehukita chizu l9s

Momijigari ttMomoi Kaori 189,259

Momotaro-Dhtine Troolts of the }cean253

Momotaro's Sea Eagle 253

Monet, Claude z5

mono ns auaTg $l-64

Mononohe-bime 256, 257, 282

Moreno, Ruby 82,233Mori Masayuki tzJ, t30,131, 138, 167,266,

275,281,282,289

311

trlorino denselsu 254

Mori0gai t\6,279,284

Morinoto Kaoru 152

Morishige Hisaya 136, 137

Morita loshinitsu 23t, 210

trforuingfor lhe }sone Fatnih tttIlorocco 19

Xlost Beuutiful, Tlte tol,'zlg

llost Tarible Time in tr|1' Life %5

tl/)thn 242,279

Itrlolhn t26,219

tllotba' and Cbild g4,gs

Ilolfu,e, Tbe n4MotokiMasahiro zzz

tlloring zz7

tlIucl unrl Soldiers 99

M urJl"t, Rirer 237 -38, 244

tl,lujo ztz

Mura no sansei 4l

MuraiHiroshi zsz

MurakamiRyu 223

Muramatsu Shofu zs6

lllura.wki ztthin: ukiyoe-shi 64

Murase Sachiko 204,283

Murata Minoru 34,77-18, 102,227

lllurderous Desire See hlailiorts oflllurdr

Mumau, F. W, 29,41.87

Muro Saisei 281

MuroiShigeru 229,235

lllusasbino krjin 8t,ztllllusume Dojoji t56,253

IIy Neighbor, Totoro 256,J79

tllt,Sin z3

/[1.1'57^' of RurnPo, Tlte ZB

Nagai Kafu l6,85, l37,2lo

NagaiTatsuo 59

Nagaru'u, 126,271

NagasakiShun'ichi zz9

NagashirnaToshiyuki zzz

Nagata Masaichi 97, to8, lo9, 213

Nnga.lvr sbinsbi-roku ll5, 283

NakaboriMuao 244

Nakadai Tatsuya t29, 210, 27 3, 27 4, 21 6, 282,

281

NakagarniKenil ?9,274

Nakahara Shun zzz-zg

Nakahira Ko 153, l8l-s3,267

Nakai Asakazu t74,z8s

NakaizumiHideo 285

Nakajirna Hiroko zzs

Nakarnoto Ryota 274

Nakamura Gan'enon 278

Nakanrura Ganj iro t59, 270, 27 I, 218, 280

Nakanrura Katsuo 281

Nakamura Kichiemon 269

Nakamura Kinnosuke 284

Nakamura Noboru 46,179

Nakanrura Nobuo 287

Nahano Army School t6z

Nakano Minoru 6t

Nakata Hideo zts

Nakata Toichi 185

Nakazato Kaizan 64,287

Naked Face of Nigbl, The t6o

312

Nnked hknul, Tbe 150,279

Nakimushi hozo 9/t

Narurmi: First Lore. See hfmto of FirslLore, Tbe.

Nani ga knrojo u'o so sctselaku 9l

Naniu'a ereji tt,82, 281

Nurtooh of lhe Nortb z4t

Nm'q,amn bushiko (1958) t$44,266Nuru'tAnn bushih.o (1983) 1s9,266

narrative, beginnings of to-t l, 29-.32

Narusawa Masashige 2l l, 266, 2i9,283

Naruse Mikio 44, 59-/&, ttg, t25-29,240.259

Naruse Mikio (D\DA'ideo Guide) 27t,271,

279,281,187.290

Narushima Toichiro zoz

Nathan,John 195

"national poliry" films. See Potr waku eiga

l,,leighbor's Wife and lllirte, The 48

Ittreho to Sbozo toftilari ilo onna 137

Nenttrrtt otoho 88Neon Gcilesis: Etvutgelion 256,259

neo-realisnlo cinema, influence of t t6-tz

Neu'Age of Fools tt6Neu'Eartb. The rca

Neu' Parucli,se Island zss

Neu'Roacl to5

Neu' Tales of the Tah'a Clan. See Tala oftbe Tairu Clan.

"New Wave" 192 tI

newsreels 26

Nicbh'tu et

Night and Fog irt Jctpan 45, 197-98, 199,

i00,280

Nigbt Buttatlies t6o

Nigbt Drum 148

l{ighlin Nude zz3

Nighl of lhe Galav, Railroad zs(t

Night Rilu t6o

Nigblittgule 94

lVigorie t+l

Nihorr kctiho sensut: Sanizuka no ncttsu

249

Nihon no higehi(1946) lt4-15,250

Nihon no higehi (1953) n7,276

l{ihorr tto ichiban nagai bi t79

Nibort n0 )'lnt to hiri 45,197-98,199,200,

280

Nihon tanjo 178

l,,lihort to nihottjirt t5l

nihonjin-ron 1oo

Nijusbi no hitonti t45,289

Nikkatsu 3J,tl-18,?21

Nikucltrn 179

Nihutcti no nton l8o,271

Nineteen-I ectr-)ld's lllap, Tbe 49Ningut jobahu 187-8s, 251

Nhrym hu 77

Ningm no joken 1M\214Ningm no.l,aktrohu 204

Nirrirr Dojoji tzNinju bugei-cho zs+

ninjo See giri-ninjoNittjo h.nnt ifusen 72, 7 5-7 6, 186, 27 4

Nipport hoku Fm'u1'ashihi-mura 249

Nippott konchuki 187, 190,275

Nippon nankyohu tankeil 241

Niplton no kurainatsu: enzoi tsz

N ippo r r sen go -s h i-tl I a dn nt u 0 m borono seikatsu t89,274

Nishida Naomi 235

Nishioka Yoshinobu zs3

N[shiz u nt i sen.shacbo- dcn 99- ttto

No Cortsuiltrtiort.s Todctl' l4o

No Greata'Lorc 274

llo Regreh for )ur lbutb I I l, ltlo

Nobi ts3-t54,250.270

Nobodl'lhtou's 246

Noda Kogo 54, l19, 120,177,288

Noda Shinkichi z+s, 249

NogamiYaeko ztl3

Nogawa Yurniko 272,286

Nogiku no gotohi kimi narihi rut

Nomura Hotei zt t

NomuraYoshitaro 2llNora htu 119, 286

NosakaAkiyuki 188, 189. 281

Nostalgie 234

Not I'el. See Xlachfun's

Nozoe Hitoni 172

Nuaga d'Ete. See Sunnter Clouck

"ntrberu bctg1i' 192

Nudo no yoru 223

Numata Koji 282

N tuna nt llfiliktn, Autderny. 71t(Numazuheigakko) llj

\atsttrae Jirokichi goslti 69

Oba Hideo $,t79)brm t79

0bayashi Nobuhiko n344)cbnzuke no aji 271

Occupation, film under to7-15

)cho-fi(itt tn genso 252

Oda Sakunosuke 135

]dd )bsasion l59, z8o

)rle to u Sctlesnttut 57

)dishort 223.265

0e Kenzaburo 2.31

0fuji Noburo uSz

0gata Ken 190,266,2s9

OgataNaoto 236

0gawa Shinsuke 249

Ogita Yoshihisa 278

0guni Hideo t r8, 166, z8z, 283, 288

Oguri Kohei 231-38,244

Ohays '273

)bihkosbi zzt

)fuaru gat'ei 219,2i2+

)iu'a's Gbosl 179

)josan kampai t4tOkada Eiii 193.285,290

0kada Mariko 203,287

Okada Saburo :st

Okada Yoshiko 226

)haei 24041,280

Okamoto Kihachi $,284,287

)kasan t26,219

Okiura Hiroyuki zs6

0kiyana Hideko 239

0kochi Denjiro 65, 69-70, 12,13.280

)hoto and Sasuke 94

)kubo Kyosbi no hanzai 221

Okubo Tadamoto 54-55

)ku,man choja l4o

Okura,Johnny 267

0kuyama Dairokuro z4g

Okuyama Kazuyoshi zt8,zzl

0kuzaki Kenzo z5t

)ld and Nar 24s

)lcler Brotbn, You,ngu Sister tz6, zgt

)mborofirunu 255

Arce llore t35

Arc Gettnation of Tattooed lllut 180

Arc Thousand and Arc Nights tsz

One Wondnful Sundaj, 2s1

One's Ouytt Sitt z3

Aibaba l5l,28l

Ailbi zzs

Onna ga kaidan uo nobont tohi tz7,z9o

Onoe Kikugoro V tg

Onoe Matsunosuke 24, 29, 33, 64, zo9

Atoga tsuni 23

Onuma Tetsuro 248

Ooka Shohei 153, 270,217

Origirt of Ser, The tSt

Orizuru ]sm 83

Uochi 66

Otphans of tbe Storm za

Osada Nata t49

1saha Elegl 8l,82, z8l

)saka no yado 49,51,135,136

0sanai Kaoru 34

OsawaYoshio tos

0shii Mamoru 256, z65,ztz

Oshina Nagisa 45, t6t, 19{203, 2t2, 22t,

232,249,254

0shima Nagisa (DVDlVideo Guide) 268,

27 2. 27 5, 27 9, 280, 28t, 287, 290

)sone-he no asa I I I

1soshih.i 2t8, 230-3t, zl I

0sugi Ren 22t-22

Osugi Sakae zM

Otani Takejiro 37-.39, to9

)loko uta tsuraiJ,o 209

)tomegokoro sannin shimni 64

Otorno Katsuhiro 256, 257,265

)tosan 464t)toshiana 195

ototo t5l0towa Nobuko 138, l5o, t5t,z67,z8l)ur Neighbor, trliss Yae 47

)ut 235

)utcast, The t55

Ou,l t5tAd Castle zos

oyamz,defined z3

Oyu-sama 81,279

Ozaki Koyo zt

)zawaShoichi zsz

Ozu Yasujiro 28, 54ll0, 1t9-l29, t3o, 222,

225, 228, 230, 232, 236, 238, 24, 246, 248

Ozu Yasujiro (DVDflideo Guide) 265,269,

27 0, 2l t, 27 3, 21 5, 21 6, 217, 283, 286, 289,

290

Page )ut of Ordr, A (Page of Madnas,A) 32,85-90,281

Pain. SreScoutman.

Pale Flou,er zo4,zqt

pan-shot 3F40

Passing Fanc1, 57 -58, 124

Passion, See ManjiPathd zt, z6

Pebble b.1'the Wa1tsifu, tr ,tPeerless Patriol 68

Pekin no suiha 233

Pett itsutuartzu: borysp'Lt no macbi t45

Pmsion Mimosa l4Pictu,res at an Erbibition zS4

Pigs and Battlahips rll,25oPilgrimage at Night BtPisutoru Goto Sbimizu Sadakichi tlPitfall rlsPlace in, the Sun, A 182

Plal'er, The t9tPleasura of fue flab, Tbe 281

Pochet Monstm 256

Poe, EdgarAllan 2t8

Poisoned Hnbs 3o

Pokdmon 256

Police a6

Poisonous htsects 229

Pontographers, The 188, 281

Potemhin 88,248

preserrtational ethos n-tl, 2{21, 215-16,

259

Prhtcess Go 195

Princas Mononohe 256, 257, 282

Princas Yang Ktei Fei, The Bt,z8zProfound Desire of the Gods, The t?s49Prohino z4g

Promise zM

Pudovkin Vsevolod z4s

Punishmant Room 153

Pure Inue 60

Purple Hood, The: Woodbloch Artist 64

0,uiet Duel, The zsz

Quiet Life, A 231

Bainl,Dog ztiRampling, Charlotte 278

Ranpo zt9

Ran 102,175,226,282

Rashomon 138, 139, 170, 228, 2l 5,282

Ratai ?tlRayrn, Tory 256

realisn I l-12, 25-27,38, 99, I 16,258

Realm of the Smsa, The. See In the

Realm of tbeSmsa

Rear Windnu' 49

Rebellion t&,t65,zqz

Record of a Lidng Being, The 161,173,

251,282

Record of a Tettemmt Gmtleman l16,

283

Red Bat, The 69,zzj

Red Beard 168, 175,283

Red Light District 130, 2s3

Reihusaida mahda keisu zz5

Reinhardt, Max 38

Reiniger, Lotte 252

Rutgohu roika zo3

Renoir,Jean 84,93

ratsageki zt

Repcnt U,n7,125,t27representational ethos ll-12, 26-27,

2t5-t6,258

Resm,oir Dogs 222,223

Resnais, Alain 150,243

Raurrection 30.40

Ra,utge of Tarzan, The tlgRa,en ge of Yuhinojo, TIte. ke Actor's

Rerarye, An.

Rhapsody in Attgust 175, 283

Ribm guizi 250

Rikugun 93

Rikugtn Nahano gakko t6z

Rihytt t02,t96,283

Rimbaud, Arthur zz4

Ring uaRio Brauo 230,287

Riuer Fuefuki, The tM

Rfu,r K, The 119

Riuer Without a Bildge 148

Ril,u 234

Road to Etmtit1,, The zl4

Robe, The 178

Roberts, Stephen Z4

Robo no ishi 95

Rojo no reikon 38,40-41, 45,46,77,85, l5o,

t78,259

Rohudenasbi zo3

Rohugalsu no bebi zt9

Romansu 229

Ronin-gai (1928) 55

Ronin-gai (1990) ztz

Rose in tbe Mud,/. See Bad Sleep Well,

The.

Rosellini, Roberto tt6

Rotha, Panl z4l

RlomaAnsalsu ztz

Ryr Chishu n9, t4z, 265, 259, zt7

Sada Keiii t42,t43

Sado ztz

Sae Shuichi zM

Saga Michiko zt t

SaiYoichi zo3,z3z

Saigo no dnraibu zz9

Saihaku ichicla,i ln?xa 81, 131, t32,217

Saito Ichiro zlt,ztlSaito Masaru z9t

Saito Torajiro 54,t39

Sakai, Furank 185

SakamotoJunii 229

Sakarnoto Ryuichi zz9

Sakarnoto Sumiko t89, 256, 282

Sakamoto Takeshi 58,276,286

Saki Ryuzo 289

Sakuma Yoshiko zls

Sahura 253

Sakura no sono 221-28

Sama soruja 196

Samma no aji fi9,tzLzt,tz4,z65Sarnurai 284

Samurai,4ssassin 284

Samurai Banners 284

Samurai Rebellion. fu, Rebellion.

Samurai Saga t73,284

313

San tai yon ekkusu ju-gatsu 221,257 She and He 193,285

Saniltkan 8 (Sandakan hachiban She Was Like a Wild Cln'santhemum t42

shokan: bolryo) 151 Sheidi gurobu zZ5

Sanjuro 72,172,284 Shiba Ryotarg 203,208

Sano Shuji t42 ShibakiYoshiko za3

Sano Tetsuro 256 Shibata Tsunekichi 17, 18, 26

Sanshiro Sugata 93,t67, t79,284 Shibuya Minoru 94

Sarchiro Sugata, Part Tuto 106,284 Shichinin n0 samurai 133,17F11,285

Sansho the Bailifi (Sansho dayu) l3l, 132, Shiga Naoya 68, 123

2M shigehara Hideo t22Saraba itoshiki dnichi z1g Shigeta Shigemori 283

Sararimanh,oshitsu zzg ShiinaRinzo ll8SasakiYasushi 109 Sbikamo karra u,a 1,uhu 7)Sasame yu,ki t59,z7g Sbiki no aiysp, t8Z

SataniAkiyoshi zzo Shima n0 ,nnq 40

Sato Kenji 254,257-58 ShinazakiToson 28,60

Sato Koichi zZz Shimazu yasujiro 38,4il8,91Sato Makoto zSo Shinizu Hiroshi 44,51-54,96, ll0, z34,z3}

Sato N{asaru 273,218,283,284 Shir'izu Kunio 193,285

Sato Tadao 27,29,72,8F81, 125,221,232, Shimizu Takashi 218

238,241 Shimokawa oten 252

Sawanrura Haruko 39 sbimpa,influence of ZZ_23,24,7144SawamuraSadako zzz ShiniuraTakashi 138, l7l, 263,269,?79,SaJ,onara CP 250 282,2g5,286

Scanckl zaS Shin baka jirtai tt6Scandalous Aduentura of the Buraikan, Sbin heike monogatari z1l

Tbe 208

schnidtbaum, wilherm 3e t!"(:"u{Yr:f;r,:i,

Schwartz, Robert 221

Scorsese, Martin rgr,zt..,z6g sbin Takaraiima ?55

Scott,Ridrey zz5 'tt6'/ov t!{::#t#:ffiii;:iT:#KlrT'

Scoutman 229,285 Zl0,Zl8,Zlg,Z8lSea and Poison, Tlte 152 shingeki z7,zy3zSu of Youth 249 Shingun gt

Season of the Sun 153 Shinju ten no amijima 206,269

Segawa Hiroshi 196,290 shinhohugehi 6+65Sei no hagayaki 34-35 Shinoda Masahiro 80,82, 204-8 ,236,269,Sei no kigut l5l z7z,z8l

Seikatsusm ei-bi-sbi gt Shinohara Tetsug 234

Sehtut no umi 249 ShinozakiMakoto 24Cl'1,280

Seisaku's Wife (Seisaku no tsuma) 77, 7s Shirueihi Ebangeliort 255

Seisbun t57 Shinsutptnti 254

Seishun zankoku monogatari 196,203, Shiota Akihito zz9

268 Shirai Kanzo t7Sekikawa Hideo t45 Shirai Marsujiro 37-38Seil to Chibiro no kamikahusbi zS6 Shirakasa yoshio 272

Sa{o no meri kuri,sumosu 221,226,219 Shirano Butjiro 173

Smso to beiu,a I10, I 13 Shirato Sampei 254

SentoTakenoi 216,242 ShiroMasa'rurrc 256,212

Seo Mihuyo 253 ShishidoJo z9r

Seoul to5 Shitamacbi gg

Seppuku 1U,273,282 Sbitsurahum Z3Z

Su,enSamurai 133,17v11,285 Shizuhanaseihatsu z3lSatmth Heaum z9 Shizukanaru ketto zgz

Shadnu, of China z4o Sho u,o sute1,o, macbi e cle1,s 2t

Sbadnu,s of tbe Yoshiu,ara 89 Shochiku 37-38,4346,2t6Sbady Groue 225 Shogun lemitsu and His MnttorShaha ns Hikozaemon roz

sbakaimono t46,l5l-52,166 Shoheirto heya 153

Shakespeare, William t56 sbontbtgeki 41,48,116-19,237,244,219

Sball We Dance? 228,285 Shortm zoo

Sbane 49 Shou,a haTo clnizensbu 234

Shara z4z Sbubun 285

Sbarahu, zog Shumpu dut zs6

Sharasoju z4z Shunkfusbo: )hoto to Sasuhe 94

Sbaru ui dnrwu 228,285 Sica, Vittorio de ll5

314

Sin, The t55

Sinking of the Lusitanin 2tlSislers of the Gion 62,81,82,83, 130, 160,

230,285

Skinless Nigbt (Sukinresu naito) 228

Sleeping Man, The z3s

Snake ofJune, A 2t9

Snou: Counfi' (lshirnoto Tokichi) 248

Srtott: Countn,(Oba Hideo) r79

Srtltt, Countn, (Toyoda Shiro) n7,286

Snou Flurq' 145

Soga kl,odai hariba no ahebono 3l

Sohohu 91

Soldirs at the Fronl to4

Soldier's Prayer, A 274

Sonrai Shinii 226-27

Somaucln monogatari 242

Some Kincln, Loue zz9

Sonatine (Sonachine) zzt, 223, 225, 286

Sonezaki sbittju t62

Song of Bu,ana Toshi, The t%

Songs of ,lllied Oatructiort lo9

Sorto otoho kyobo ni tsuh.i zzt

Sono zm1,a 73

Sontag, Susan 26, z9

Soshm 269

Sosbun Koch[,ama 72,73

Souls on tbe Road .38,4o-41, 45,46,77,85,

160, 178,259

Sounds of the Mounlain 64

Soutbmt Jwtice za

Space Battlahip Yctmato 255

Spider and the Tulip, The 253

Spirited Auta1, 256

Star Atblete, A 53

Steamboat Willie 252

Steamboy 256

Stein, Gertrude S6

Stenrberg,Josefvon 19

Stevens, George tsz

Storm Ater '4sia 248

Storyfrom Cbikamatsu, A l3l, 132, 133,

t62,286

Story of a hostitute 286

Storyt sl pltrting weeeb, The 57,27t,286

Story of Tanh Commanclm NLsbizttmi,

The g9-tw

Storl' of tbe ktst Cbrysanlhemum, The

84, l0l, 102,286

Story of tbe hJ,ol Dog, Hachiho, The 2r4

Straigbt-fontard Bot,, A 56

Stray Dog 119,286

Street of Mastdas Samurai, The 66

Street of Sbame. See Red Ligbt District.

Street of Violarce t46

Street u'itb tbe Cupola, The 86

Strike ?s

Strindberg, August 85

SturJmt uon Prag, Der s6

Studio Ghibli 255

Subarasbiki nichiJ,obi zst

SugaiKin 230

Sugata Sansbiro 93, 16l, 119,2&

SugiiGisaburc 256

Sugimura Haruko 36, l19, 269,271,277,2U

Sugiyama Kohei 88, 212,218,282

Sugiyama Miuami z4s

SuicirJe Trolps oJ'tbe Watchtoua', Tbe tt3Siuito hornu zt9

Sukuoku z4

Summer Clouch zsl

Sutnnter in Nariltr:TIte Front LbteJbrthe Liberstion ofJafan 249

Sttntmer.lis/a' 201

Sttmmu'Solclius t96

J'an s Bm'iaL the t96,nlSun's Coronu, Tbe tlJirn lr Legend, The tts, tg6

Stut's Legud al the End of tbe Toku-gctuut Period. See Jzol's Legancl, The.

Suna no otnt6 195,290

Sunless Street 146

Sunrire 29

Suo Masayuki zza, ztls

Sultuntarkel Woman (Supa no onna)230

Sutirn boi zsi

Suwa Nobuhito 24243, 211)

Su,u'aroteiru 225

Suzaki Paraclise-Red Lighl Dislrict ts4

Sttzaku 241,242,281

Suzuki Denmei 46

Suzuki Kensaku 77

Suzuki Koji 218

Suzuki Seijun l8ml, 1s3,267. z70,Jlt,286,288,291

Suzuki Shigekichi 9t

Suzukita Rokuhei 64

Suutllou,tuil zz5

Su,eel Honte 219

Su,ord of Doorn, Tbe n9,287

Sl,ntlthony in Grq, 206

Tabata Tonoko zz7

Tabiynkusba gz

Tabisttrtt Pao-JiartgHu 240

Taboo SeeGohstto.

tctchimcurari z4

Taguchi Oson 36

Taifit kurabu zz('

Taii no ntusurne 30

Taikatsu 33,35-31

Taira CIan Saga See Sbin Heihe lllono-gatari.

Taisho era, filn in 43-46

fqi:1,o rto bakaba tg6,z8l

Taiyo no hisetru t53

Tail,o rto nai macbi t46

tctil,ozoku 153,258

TakahashiAkio 276

Takahashi Hideki l8l, 270

TakahashiTeiji 256

Takaiwa Hajine zs6

Takakura Ken t.33, zltTakaniJun 135

Takarnine Hideko 127, 128, t1t,r42,t43,27r,271 ,ztg,28g,2go

TakechiTetsuji 209-10

Takekura,be 49, 50, 135, 1.36

Takenitsu Tonr 195, 205, 207, 208, 240, 165,

267, 268, 269, 273, ?l 4, 217, 281, 2S2, 3go

Takenaka Naoto zss

Takeyama Michio tsz,273

Tahi no shiraito 79-so,8l

Takiguclri Yasuhiko t64, t65,213

Tale of Gutji, The 6l,rlsTules of the Tuira Ckut zg7

TamakiKoji r29

Tampopo 230,281

Tarnura Masaki z4o, z4t, z4z, zt 4

Tarnura Taijiro 271,286

Tamura Takahiko 153

Tanaka Eizo 34-35,221

Tanaka Keiichi tsS

Tanaka Kinuyo 46, ll9, 128, 130, l3l, 132,

l 5 l, 266, 271, 277, 279, 285,389, rgo

Tanaka Suntie n7,z1 t,zl7

Tanaka TomoyLrki zt4

Tanaka Tsumhiko 6g, zz4,'2:t5

fange Sazctt )tlttvt: hi,nkuman no ilolsubo 7z

Taniguchi Senkichi zsz

Tanikawa Shuntaro 157

Tanitt no kao 195,270

TanizakiJun'ichiro 16, 19, 33-34, 36, 86,

t62,209,278,279,280

Tarantino, Quentin I l, 220, 225,230

Tasaka Tomotaka 91. 95, 98-99, 104

tctsuke t9

Tatuhutt heitui to4

Tateoka Kennosuke 79

Ta.ring Wornan, A 230,2s7

Tming Womcm's Retum, A 281

Tayama Katai 3S,85

Te tt,o tsttnagu ho-ra l()4

television, effect on film industry 171-78

Temple of the Goklm Pafiliort, TIte. See

Conflagration.

Teil Dark Wornen 154

"tendency films " See heiko-eiga

Tengan Daisuke zz3

Tengoku to jigoku 168, 274

Tenjo Sajiki ztz

Imka Taeihih.i 6s

Tenkatsu 32,.3S

Ta*osei 234

Tenno Heika Banzai 9s

Tutno no boshi t4o

Tmranh.ai no e 254

Tensbi no harau,nkt 223

Terayama Shuji 208, 2u,,275

Teslrigahara Hiroshi 102, 195-96, 265,210,

283, 290

Tessier, Ma,r t46

Tetstro 219,281,259

Tetsuuan Atomu 254

Tezuka 0sarnu 254-55

Thne Wt$ u Fathu tos

TltE Who Step on the Tiger's Tctil to6,zas

Thick-Vhlled Roont, Tbe t63

Tbief of Bagdnd, TIte 9q

Third ztz

Th* Scorchirry Seu. See Crazecl Fnit.T'ltis h'ansiail Life ztlThree Chirnzalc See Wbere Cbinmq,g

Are Seen.

Tlmee Sisters uith tllaiden Hearts 64

[hree Treasura, Tlte 178

Throne of Blood, The tl3-t4,zuTltrotr Attctl, lbur Books,l,et's Go ittto

the Streets ztz

Tiga lllan. The za

Till We trleet Again t47

Tinter of|oJ,and Sonou' 143

Titruic znTo Sleep so cu lo D'ennt 235

Tiichter fur Samurcti. Die na

Tocqueville, Alexis de lo

Toda Shigernua, 277

Tocln-he no k.)'ocltti to5

Tobo sen'ichitut t52

Tohoktt no zulnmu-tuchi tslTokai ko k.t'ok-yoku 7 s-7 9

Tohijiro of Kulsuhake: Lone lhkuzct t7()

Tohkankozo s6

Tokuda Shusei 6o

Tokunaga Bunroku .16

Tokunaga Sunao 145

Tokyo Bay 21t

Tohyo boshoku 122,289

Tok1,o Difter 180.288

Tok1,o koshirtk.t oku ]sTok1,6 h_yockti 236

Tok.to Lullaby zt6

Tokto llurcb 7a

Tokyo ltlarigokl ntTokyo monogatari 36, 120, l15, 186,204,

288

Tohlo n(q1urenturc 180, 288

Tok1,o no uum 290

Tokyo no :tvtdo 51,216

Tokl's )\1'ntPiacl 157-58, 188

Tok1,o saibnn t65

Tokyo senso settgo biuur zot

Toh.to Siblirtgs 236

Tok1,o Stot'1, 36,lzo, 125, 186,204, zStt

Tokyo Trial, The t6s

Tok1,s Tu,iligbt tzz, 289

Tohyo u'(nt 2llTokys r'tPttk.u 2t6

Toler, Emst 85

Tonioka Taeko 206, 269, z7z

Tonita Tsuneo 93,284

Tomiyanra Katsue 212

Tonari no Totoro 256,219

Tonari no I?rc-chan 4J

Topo Gigio 156

Toru tto o u'ofumu otoko-tachi 106,288

Tora-san: It's Tough Being a lllan zo9

Torikaeko z3t

Tou'er of Lilia, Tbe t4iToun of Lot,e attd Hope, A 196

Toyoda Shiro 46, 136, r37, 279,286

Transfer Studmts 234

Traueling Actors 92

Trichl, Girl So

Troubled Watrs t41

Truffaut, Frangois t9z

Tsubaki Sat{uro lz, nz,zs4Tsuboi Sakae 145,289

Tsuchi 86,94,t05,249

Tsttchi to Heitai 99

Tsuchinoto Noriaki 249

Tsuchiya Shoiu 2l

315

Tsugrwa Masahiko 182, l6ti

TsuiitaJun'ichi t.llTsukarnoto Shinya ll9, ll9, ts7.189

Tsukrua Yoko :lo, 177. 281. l8{Twki u'u dotchi ni deleiru t3lTsukigata Rvunosuke 65

Iisumt l16

Tsunt to btru no lotti 60, 127, llttlsunu-mono, defined Il7Tsunriki N'liho ztg

Tsuruta Koji I.13,llJ4

Tsuruya Nanrboku l7Tsuvuguchi Shigeru ls9

T'unt li5Tu'enlt-Fotr Eyes l{5, lttg

Tu'enly-I'eur-0lcl I oulh l09

lidlighlslorlt' l.t7

Tirirr Sislers oJ'K1,olo 179

2/Dtro See Duo

fu'o People ul Dojo Tenple tt'fu'o lYit'es.SeeW'ile. Be Like t Rose

T.l,phootr Club lz(t

Uchida Hvakken 27s

Llchida Tontu .37, 51, n6, t49

Llchu senktrt lhmulo J55

Lleda Akinari .36. 289

Ueda Hoteikan t9

Ueda Keinosuke lstLlekusa Keinosuke lst

Llenrura Miho 281

Ugelsu ([getsu Nlonogatari) .tu, t.to, t.il,l3l,llt9

Utrquisu t1+

Uhiguttto lJlttkiktrsu t22,211

Ukikttst tttotrol4ulttt'i sz, zs6

(ltttl t)2.l(13

[/nrurele u'n milu keredo 45, 57-59,96.

1.10, r75

Llnrentura Miho 180

Llnrenrura Yoko 28, ul, ls6

LInre),a Shokichi .tt

Umi to clokututhu I5lUnl14i l90,ll6

Llniler lhe fuutner oJ'fumurni 2s+

[hulercurrenl t6o

tltulyitrl4 Peurl st,s3

t I r r ho[.t' Desi re See h r I en t i ot ts of' ll I u rder

[hritulerl Hero. The 6a

Utrletmed 60, t26

[hlensbtt Eikichi s6

tlnlil lbe Du.ylV'e ileelAguitt l+l

Llrabe Kunteko 77

Urayanra Kirio 1.96

Lishih'.rra Kivohiko .ts, qt

Ulunmo uul Hi,t Fire lYonten (Utanraro

wo nregLrru gonin no onna) I10, 1.30, 199

tllsuhushii nulsu Kirishimu JtJ(llsuhushisu lo kanashitni to )05

Vurietti 9lllury4eunce Is lline 190, 145. 251, 2u9

Vertov, Dziga J+.9

\'fu )khrcntu J3o

Iribralor 28t)

316

Vidot, King 97

Vigo,Jean t.l+

l'illuge oJ'Dreuns ztJ

l'illuge T'elcher, A +lI'iolertce ul Nootr 100, 190

l'iolent (,:olt lzll'itul Jtg, Js9

Vitrucope 17, l8

lbrr llorgetn bis Ililletuuchl 'i7.s5

Wada Natto rsr-r5.i, r57. r59. 166,267. r70,

llr0

lATtgt jinsei viuku tto loki XsWtttl4u seishtm ni kui tutshi llt.luolVuirurlo rrifu tt4

WLrkai hito 9+

Wakarnalsu Koji ll0Wakao Avako 157, 160, 16l, 165, )7t, )jJ.

378, lS.i

Wrkorlo ilo vtme IJJ

Walsh, Raoul 9q

Walt Disney ts;lVandufirru ruilir tq+. 265

Wttnderers.I'he 157

W'rrnderin14 Perkllers. The tqo

lA?r aul Petce lllt, lllWt ul Siet, The ltt3

Wtr trl Set fi'om Hauuii lo,lltlu.lvt.'lhel0l-.1, l0s

W'uruu furcru 235

Wunn Currenl 9,i (\'oshinura), t6t(Masunrura)

Wtu'tri lurlsu ltodo l'olau nemuru 166,166

lVtsei kenku lomodtlclti 56

Watarrabe Fumio l8o

Vatanabe Ken l.llWatanabe tr4akiko :+.1

WatariTetsuya Jttlt

lVtrksbi uur rri-sui 266

ltktler llulqiciutt, Tbe 7r)+o,tl,16l, tti6

Weuld. Tbe 2q)

Weber, Karl Nlaria vorr 25J

Webern. furton von {lWedekind,l'rmz tt5

Welhnen, William gz

Western influences, initial :z-zt)

lVhule. The tsz

Whul Is lour Ntm{/ llt)Wltrtl illarle Her Do It? 9l

W'hen u Womnn AscenrLs lhe Sluirs l2l.190

lYbere Cbitnnel's Are Seen I llJ, 135

lV'hite Th'earLs o.l the Whteiiill SeeWrlertlltrlqicitnt. Tbe

Wiene, Robert ltWlJt l16

W'ife, Be Like u Rose 6o,ll7, ll8Wild Gee'^e See llislress. The

W'ild LiJb ntWl[ to Lire 14.]

Win14s 97

Wilh Beuult'and Sorrol/' lo5

W'ilhoul illemorl' )q+15

lAolf Bfigade, The ts6

Wbman in tbe Dunes I95,l9tt

Wotrtutt oJ'Puri.s. A lS,4ll, 195

Wtontn ol'Tok.yo tgo

ltrlontnr Who Toucbetl lhe Legs, The See

Girl Wbo Touchecl His Legs. The

llbnett oJ lhe Gin::u l6o

Wbmen of'tbe lVil4bl n6, l.to.l9o

Workl o|Geisba. lhe 2to

World War II, films durirrg 9(r_l06

ltilr lberi ng Heigltls tos

Yubu tto nrftt no kuroneho l5lInbure driho tql

Yada Tsuneko 94

YagiYoshitaro l50

lTrju rro sei.thurt 291

Yakuslro Koii 218, t64, 167, 168, r70,28s

Vthu:rt 66, 179, l()9, ll5, )2t,22+

Inku:t Pupers. TIte llL).121,166

ITttttrt tto olo 6q

Yanrada Isuzu 81. 128, 1.i7, l8l,l7l,l7lt,ll3l,lrJ6, ln9

Yanrada Koichi lttT

Yanrada Mir.sahiro zo4

Yrrnada Nobuo lo7

Yamada Yoji s7

Yuniaganri Itaro 66

Yanngata Docunrentan, F'ilm Festival :5tYarnagata Yusaku I l3

Yanraguchi Yoshiko :ss

Yamanroto Fuiiko 15,{, I60.166

Yrmamoto Kaiiro .14, lol, I08

Yanranroto Salstro I l()

Yamanroto Shugoro :s.i

Yanranrr-rto Yoii J22

\':rnranaka Sadao 65, I l-'7. l.i.i. ll+Itnuilo :ttkuru )lYanrazaki Kuuo l7.l

Yanrazaki Toyoko l5+

Yamazaki Tsutornu 1.10. I.i.i, ll.{, liilYanaginrachi Xilitsuo 1.39-10. l.{1. l'+Ihri rro Gottztr lo8,l7lYlusunti Toshio I1.1, 1.16, 1.17, lti6

Yoda Yoshikata 78, .sl, lj l. lll, I'r, l'9,18l. i8+, 286, 2tt9. 190

Ibidore lensbi ll6. t69

lbjimbo 65.6s. l7l-7.j, lfiq. 190

Io.johurr fusumu tro uruburi )lo

lbki-bi r3l,lrlYokonriLsLr Riichi sr

Yokota Einosuke l+,.it

Yorrki-no-Kai 165

lbrokobi no kuttusltitni mo ikulosltilsuki14.1

Ibru no cho 160

Ibru no kuuur 160

Ioru trc nagare lJ7

loru no onnu-lrcbi ll6, l9o

Ibru rto su{yuo l60

Ibru no lsu:utrti l+8

Yoshida Akio ll7Yoshidr Kiiu l9l, 20.3-4

Yoshida Shigenr I 14

Yoshikawa Eiii 183, 2lt7

YoshinriYutaka 24s

YoshimuraJitsuko l5l, lti7, 2sl

yoslrinrura Kozaburo 4+.46,()t). t04, l0lJ.

160-61

Yoshinaga Sayuri 27s

Yoshizawa Shokai 26,3t

Young People 94

Youngu Brotbr t5iIbuth tstYouth of tbe Baast 290

Yuki zs6

Yuki Saori t3lYukiguni (lshimoto Tokichi) z4B

I7&igtni (0ba Hideo) r79

Itukigtmi (Toyoda Shiro) Bt.286I\&ittojo burye 156,265

lukisada lsao zz9

I\tki"1,ukite sbingurt z5o

Itume n5,269

Ifume mint to ni nettturitai zl5lfureisut 252

Ituriika zz5,27o

Itusbu heiyct t3llTtuutkusba 229

Zangiku monogatar? 84, 101, toz, zs6

ktrtjitr zantba ken 66

Ztloichi (Kitano) zzz, zgr

Zatoichi ntonogatarz (Misumi) zzz, zgt

Zatoichi:The Life and )pinions oJ'

llasseur lcli (Misumi) zz?,zgt

Za u'a - zatttA Shim okitnzaua 231

Zensbitt shosetsuka z5t

Zigomar 9z

Zoku Sugata Sanshiro 106,284

Zola, Emile 85

Zucknayer, Carl ss

Zukor, Adolph zs

317

Tlre nrajority of film stills in this book are taken from Donald Richie's The Japanese rtlouie

(Kodansha Intemational, revised edition). Many of these were in tum obtained from the Donald

Richie collection of Japanese film stills in the Museurn of Modern Art, New York; those .rdded

for A Htndrecl Yesrc of Japunese Filnt were supplied by Bitten Erd.,)kaai; Gunro Produc-

tions, Frz Festfu,al,The PIan oJ'o Nilrcteert-l7ar-0ld; Ichikawa Ju't, D.1,irtg at u Hospital,

Tok.t'o Siblings; Itami Productions,Tlte Funa'al,Tarnpolto;Oguri Kohei, Tbe Sleepittg lltut,trfudtl1, Riuer;Osltitna Productions/Shochiku, Gohatto; Shochiku, Berjing Watumeloz; Somai

Shinji, lllottirtg,Tl,phoon Club; Studio Ghibli, Prhrcess tllortonoke @ 1997, Nibariki-TNDG;

The Kawakita Memorial Foundation, T'be Chern, A'chard, Duo, Hattabi,Japartese Girls at

lhe Harbor,The Stut's Legud,suzaku,lliu LiJb,Maboroshi; There's Enteryrise, lnc.,lrilctl @

2004 SHIMA TSUMMOTO/MIJru THF.ATER; TV Man Union, Inc., DLsturtce @ Distrtnce Prc-

ject Team All Rights Reserved, Nobodl' Krtous @ 2004 Nobodl' Kttlu's Production Committee

All Rights Reserved; W0W0W, Helpless O W0W0W and Bandai Visual, Ri1,u @ WOWOW and

Bandai Visual.

(lt;ihlilift r s Xfi m r".{ }."

A Hundred Years ofJapanese Filrn /Revised and Updated

200s+ s 1127 H ffi t llrJ4|ti

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fittEU.lltArirr 1 1 1 ,fttllJldtJf,l.,rt 2;ll:

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ISIIN 4-7700-2995-0