• 恋や恋やすな恋 (The Mad Fox)

6/6/25 (Fri), home, 7:15-9:00p

Uchida’s 1962 surrealistic film is based on the popular Bunraku and Kabuki classic commonly known as Kuzunoha. The entire movie is as shape shifting as the foxes within it, moving from semi-realistic to otherworldly to a Kabuki stage. The film covers the entire play, which I don’t recall seeing in full, though I’ve frequently enjoyed the much-revived scene of the fox’s teary departure played by various actors. The first scenes at court are the usual complicated story of jealousy and evil, and I get why they’re often left out. But it’s good to get the background.

The nobleman Yasuna is betrayed at court (skipping those details here) and goes insane when his beloved is murdered. As he wanders aimlessly in the countryside, he collapses in a field of flowers. He awakens to discover his love’s long-separated twin sister. In his madness, he is convinced that his love has returned to him. The sister Kuzunoha is initially repelled, but eventually gives in to his sincerity and adoration. She falls in love with him, allowing him to believe that she is the sister. One day, he saves an injured woman who has been shot with an arrow. He is then attacked by the hunting party, which steals from him a valuable scroll known as the Golden Crow, and he becomes separated from Kuzunoha.

When the rescued woman returns to her family, we learn that they are foxes, which in Japanese folklore can adopt human form. Grateful to her rescuer, she tells her granddaughter to watch over him, while warning her not to get emotionally attached to him or any human. The granddaughter finds him and naturally falls for him, taking on the form of Kuzunoha (played by the same actress). He unsuspectingly lives with her in a blissful quiet life, and they have a child.

Eventually, the real Kuzunoha comes looking for him. When he sees two lookalikes, he starts to go insane again. The fox realizes her mistake in loving him, and tells him through closed doors in a moving scene that she is leaving forever, asking him only to take care of the child. Once she’s gone, he is overjoyed to find the Golden Crow hidden with the infant. But then a final switch shows him dancing wildly among the yellow flowers, finally collapsing with his original lover’s kimono over his head.

The Japanese title is based on a poetic line in the play, which itself derives from a line in a Noh drama (恋重荷). It warns against falling in love too hastily, referring in this case to the fox who comes to regret not following her grandmother’s words. The alternative English title, Love, Thy Name Be Sorrow, is nice but incorrect, since the film is not criticizing love itself; it’s more like “fools rush in”. For that matter, the official English title is wrong as well, since the fox isn’t crazy, just careless. It should be “The Crazy Prince” if anything.

The color schemes are awesome, such as the eerie red at the opening due to the eruption of Mt. Fuji, and the bright yellow in the Oz-like scamper through the field of flowers. It is an intentionally unreal look, with no attempt to hide the artifice despite the realistic presentation. The lovely dance scene in the flowers marks a turning point in the narrative, which to that point had been fairly straightforward. It is followed by a sharp turn to the theatrical as a literal agemaku curtain falls and gives way to a Kabuki stage. The rest of the film is presented as in the Kabuki drama, including a revolving stage, kata movements, and stage effects like a doll in place of a baby. I’m not sure if that’s wise, since stage shows are meant to be seen from a distance; the camera necessarily focuses on specific spots, thus destroying the stage illusion. In particular, the appearance of the actors with fox masks, which worked in the fantasy world he had created earlier, is conversely jarring here, especially in such close-up. Still, the woman’s emotional departure is as affecting as ever, and when the scene is done as well as this, it’s hard to complain.

Kabuki-trained superstar Okawa Hashizo and Saga Michiko do fantastic jobs throughout, though the Kabuki part stands out. The exaggerated acting of the others in the more realistic scenes makes those parts hard to take seriously, though maybe we’re not supposed to. Oddly the fox’s sad goodbye in the Kabuki, where we don’t expect realism, felt more sincere than any of those early scenes. In any case, the film is done in style and certainly looks stunning; I wish I had seen it on the big screen. While definitely not for everyone, it’s a fascinating experiment.