- 河内山宗俊 (Kochiyama Soshun), 2/14/23 (Tues)
The 1936 jidaimono Kochiyama Soshun, given the inexplicable English title of Priest of Darkness, is the second of only three surviving films (out of around two dozen) by the prewar director Yamanaka Sadao. While generally considered the weakest of the three, that’s still a pretty high bar; it’s interestingly one of animator Miyazaki Hayao’s all-time favorites.
The film draws loosely from both the Kochiyama and Naojiro plot strands of the Meiji Era (1881) Kabuki play Kumo ni Magou Ueno no Hatsuhana (The First Flowers of Ueno), one of the all-day extravaganzas by the prolific Kawatake Mokuami. Those stories are usually performed these days as separate plays, but Yamanaka brings them together in an ingenious restructuring of the original. (He did a similar impressive overhaul of another Mokuami work in his next and final film, the supreme Humanity and Paper Balloons.)
The film is an oddball mixture of comedy and tragedy. A samurai’s tanto dagger plays a role much like the pot that drove the plot in his previous film Sanze Tangen. Kochiyama is a gangster disguised as a priest who runs a gambling joint with his wife. The restless teenager Hirotaro frequents the establishment but uses the alias Naojiro to keep his whereabouts secret from his worried elder sister, Onami, who runs a modest amazake shop. Hirotaro impulsively steals a dagger from a samurai that proves to be a precious heirloom handed down from the Shogun; if the samurai cannot find it, he will have to commit seppuku. The dagger ends up passing through numerous hands, with changing perceptions regarding its value or whether it is even real or a fake.
Meanwhile, Naojiro, under deep suspicion, runs into a childhood sweetheart, now a courtesan under contract to a rival gang. With both in desperate straits, they resolve to commit shinju (double suicide). Unfortunately he alone survives, and the big boss wants him to pay an exorbitant amount for his role in their prize money-spinner’s death. Onami, fearing for her brother’s life, sells herself to the boss – but she is subsequently kidnapped by yet another character, making the enraged boss thinks that she has fled. After numerous complications, Kochiyama and Kaneko, a dissatisfied member of the boss’ gang, decide to save Onami, saying that only someone willing to die for another can be called a man. The final battle is a furious chase in which they run through narrow back alleys, burst through ramshackle homes and paper doors, and dash along a river, slashing and fighting all the way. As the battle rages, Kochiyama commands Hirotaro to go the Shinagawa brothel where Onami is said to be held and rescue her. The film stops there with no clear resolution of anyone’s fate.
The dense plot can be hard to follow, a situation not helped by what appear to be missing segments. While samurai are nominally the authorities, society here is clearly controlled by the gangsters and driven by motives other than honor and order. When the samurai frets over the possibility that he will have to off himself, Kaneko mocks him, saying that the samurai has lived long enough anyway. Everyone is trying to profit over others, whether in gambling, prostitution or other means. It is only the danger to the virtuous Onami that awakens something deeper in Kochiyama.
The acting is stellar all around. The goal of the Kabuki actors in the left-wing Zenshinza was to give a more modern take to Kabuki, and they succeed handsomely here. Kawarazaki Chojuro and Nakamura Kanemon, who would appear together again the following year in Humanity, are tremendous as Kochiyama and Kaneko. Kawarazaki especially gives greater shade to the title character than the all-out evil Kabuki counterpart. Kudos also to a teenaged Hara Setsuko, who is wonderful as Onami.
Yamanaka gives a claustrophobic feel to much of the proceedings, especially the indoor scenes and extended battle chase at the end. The way he connects the varying stories and characters is masterful, topped off by a literate script by Mimura Shintaro. It may require another viewing to get it all straight, not to mention a better quality than available on YouTube (I missed the showing of the re-mastered version at the Tokyo Film Festival some years back). But the finely drawn portrait of Edo commoner society, the true-to-life characterizations, and clear motivations of all involved make this a very fine film by any measure.