• いのちぼうにふろう (Inn of Evil) 

10/3/22 (Mon)

This 1997 stage adaptation was written specifically for this theater, an outdoor venue in a small town on Noto Peninsula that was built for screen legend Nakadai Tatsuya and his Mumeijuku theater group. The group has been performing there for years, concentrating primarily on Western classics. Miyazaki Kyoko, Nakadai’s late wife, seems to have based the play less on the original novel than on her screenplays for the film and subsequent television version. The stage show proved to be her final work. The film, a small masterpiece, largely takes place in or around a tavern, so a stage version made sense on paper. I was eager to see what they had done with it, especially with Nakadai revisiting his old film in a new role.

Nakadai, who will be 90 next month, is ageless. His voice carries to the back of the theater with no strain or mannerisms, and his acting remains powerful. He has shifted from his film role of the heartless smuggler Sadashichi to the equally important role of the tavern keeper, who seems somewhat more prominent here. Much older than everyone else on stage, he brings gravitas to the role in a natural performance. Though celebrating his 70th anniversary in show business, he remains in full command of his powers. It is an impressive performance regardless of his age.

Which is a good thing, because no one else on stage is remotely in that category. The show is a shinpa production in every way, including gross overacting and stereotyped roles. The actor taking on Nakadai’s old role was probably the worst in his mannered attempt at playing cool, followed closely by the fey character, who become overtly gay in a stereotypical way. But practically everyone is guilty of the same, the sole exception being the man whose desperation to rescue his lover from a brothel is the cause of the ensuing tragedy. I won’t bother to look up their names since the group, Mumeijuku, after all means “No-Name School” or “School of No-Names”, very appropriate in this case. I doubt we’ll be hearing much from any of them. There is also melodramatic musical scoring aimed at telling us how we should feel, a touch as grating as it is unnecessary. Silence would have been much more effective.

The theater famously has a removable back wall that opens to the trees in back, supplying opportunity for dramatic stage effects. They replicate the film’s amazing final scene as a massive volume of glowing lanterns gather in the dark, indicating that the authorities are closing in. I would have thought that they’d make a bigger deal of throwing the wall open, but in any case it was an impressive sight. The accompanying fight scene was less so; it was a bit confusing to follow. The seating is nicely raked so that it was easy to see the stage from 11 rows back.

The script followed the film closely. The scene where those at the tavern are waiting for the long-delayed fighters to return was longer than needed, and as the raid itself was not portrayed, I missed seeing the shock of the men as they realize that they’ve been set up. Still, while the stage show by no means supplants the superior film version, it is a solid work offering good potential for the right actors. It seems ideal for a Kabuki rendering. I’m glad to have seen it for Nakadai’s commanding performance and the great theatrical space. Seems a shame to confine the show to this far-off town.