• 歌麿をめぐる五人の女

6/7/21 (Mon)

Mizoguchi Kenji’s 1946 work on the famed ukiyoe artist was evidently one of the first movies to be approved after the war by the American occupying forces. Mizoguchi is widely said to have seen himself in the story of the devoted artist, which here involves censorship and female issues, but the same can probably by said for any film about a struggling artist from Lust for Life onwards. Given the director’s usual concern with the difficulties of women in Japanese society, I had assumed the female half of the title would be the film’s centerpiece.

In fact, though the five women dominate the narrative, the thematic focus is Utamaro’s obsession with his art. He is clearly erotically charged by women, such as his response to a courtesan’s silky white back or a commoner in bathing attire at a swimming event, but his response is to draw them rather than bonk them. He has no physical relationships throughout the movie, which can’t have been true in reality (though details on his real life are sketchy). He appreciates women here only to the extent that they can be preserved on paper.

His fixation on art is shared by a samurai painter, who initially challenges him to a duel for what he perceives as Utamaro’s elevation of earthy and colorful ukiyoe prints (many involving prostitutes) over stately Kano-style court painting – even Utamaro’s duels are over art. The rival agrees to settle the argument with the unruffled artist through a painting contest. His rendering of the Goddess of Mercy is pronounced dead by Utamaro, who brings it to life in a few dynamic strokes. That addition makes the drawing like the Greek figures on Keats’ urn who are forever full of vitality. The transformation inspires the stunned rival to quit his samurai position on the spot and become a student of the master. After much drama involving the women, the spotlight is still on Utamaro, who, freed after 50 days in handcuffs for perceived political infractions in his drawings, turns down the welcome-back party and plunges immediately back into his drawings. Thus, this is a story of the artist rather than the man, a Sunday in the Park with Utamaro. (It shares that with most dramas about fellow ukiyoe painter Hokusai, including a just-released movie and a major Japanese stage show of some years back. Must be something about ukiyoe.)

Women are not especially distinguishable from one another given their similar dress and makeup. Even the estimable Tanaka Kinuyo, though wonderful as ever, gets lost in the crowd. All are looking for a man in some way or other, including one who murders another for stealing her prey. Those stories weren’t particularly memorable other than in their relation to Utamaro, who uses them only as inspirations for ukiyoe. He even draws on a woman’s beautiful back at one point as the basis for a tattoo, which seems a waste given that the painting will die along with her, though maybe that itself is a statement of some kind. That erotic sequence did provide a much more convincing picture of the artist’s addiction to his craft than Sondheim managed for Seurat in Sunday. Still, the story of the women was too convoluted with too many characters to really register.

Mizoguchi was at the top of his game in terms of setting the stage. The opening scene with the parade of courtesans was thrilling – would love to see this in color – and the slow panning of women removing their outer clothing in the swimming sequence reminded me of 1930s American musicals. He would have better material and far superior films in the years to come, but it’s clear that he was ready for them. Not an overly exciting piece, but worth it for the acting and great period filming.