7/23/23 (Sun), home, w/ Shinpei, 4:30-6:30p
Kuroki Kazuo’s 1990 film is the fourth remake of a silent-era epic by the legendary Makino Masahiro. Masahiro himself was supposed to helm the work as a tribute to his father Shozo, known as the founder of Japanese film, but became sick and passed the mantle on for some reason to Kuroki, not known for period pieces. Unfortunately his lack of experience shows.
7/21/23 (Fri)
The latest offering by the Dardenne brothers focuses as usual on the tribulations of immigrants in a Belgium town. Continue reading
7/20/23 (Thurs)
Having just seen Japan’s first full-length talkie, The Neighbor’s Wife and Mine (マダムと女房), which is best unmentioned, I decided to revisit Germany’s first major sound film after many decades. I never knew that Josef von Sternberg filmed his 1930 classic in German and English simultaneously; I had always assumed the English version was dubbed, but in fact the main actors were all English speakers and redid all of the dialogue scenes and songs in both languages. Both versions were being streamed, so I watched half of each. The English is a bit shorter – maybe the actors weren’t up to the material, or the material was deemed unsuitable for the US market. The German version is generally considered superior as the actors are more comfortable in their dialogue (some speak German in both). Still, the differences weren’t overly evident.
6/27/23 (Tues)
Okamoto Kihachi is known for his offbeat approach to his material, so I wasn’t ready for this decidedly bleak 1966 film, which was apparently imposed upon him by the studio. The Japanese title Daibosatsu Toge (The Great Bodhisattva Pass), referring historically to an important mountain pass on the road to Edo, was also the title of an epic 41-volume novel that was published over a 30-year period and had already been filmed multiple times. The name of the peak, these days a relatively easy hike not far from Tokyo, implies the border between this world and a more exalted state and was presumably used in the book as a metaphor. It’s hard to judge that here since the intended trilogy ended with the first film after flopping in Japan (though it did better overseas). Okamoto soon returned to form in the wacky Kill!, but this work has gained in reputation over the years.
6/25/23 (Sun), home, 4:30-6:15p
Shinoda Masahiro’s 1965 Ibun Sarutobi Sasuke (literally The Extraordinary Tale of Sarutobi Sasuke) revolves around the fictional ninja character who had already been a staple of manga, film and television for decades. Supposedly inspired by a real person (or persons), Sasuke is the most famous member of an invented group of ten ninja who sided with the Toyotomi clan in its unsuccessful battle against the Shogun. He is often portrayed with magical powers and is sometimes said to have been raised by apes – Sarutobi means “leaping monkey” or “flying monkey”. The English title is misleading in that respect since the subject is really ninja, but it falls in line with the predilection for the word “samurai” those days in other drastically renamed Japanese period films (Samurai Rebellion, Samurai Vendetta, Vendetta for a Samurai). That’s Hollywood, I guess.
6/23/23 (Fri)
Fritz Lang’s 1945 film is usually categorized as noir, but that description doesn’t feel quite right. At the opening, the cutely named Chris Cross (Edward G. Robinson), a timid bank cashier and amateur painter, is receiving a celebration for 25 years of faithful service at the bank, which in movie-land means he’s boring. He is envious of his boss, who leaves early to tend to his beautiful mistress, and appears a lonely soul. Upon walking home, he comes across a woman, Kitty Marsh (Joan Bennett), being accosted by a large man (Dan Duryea). He almost accidentally strikes the man down from behind with his umbrella (and immediately cowers in fear of a reprisal). But when he goes for a policeman, the woman is strangely uncooperative – it turns out that the attack was simply a spat with her lover Johnny, who has quickly escaped.
SPOILERS AHEAD
6/11/23 (Sun)
Director Koreeda Hirokazu’s films are always an event, and the latest opens on the heels of its win at Cannes for best screenplay by television writer Sakamoto Yuji – the first time Koreeda has directed someone else’s work in nearly three decades. It is also noted for its music by Sakamoto Ryuichi, who was dying of the cancer that would kill him earlier this year before the film premiered. He was only able to complete two new numbers, the remainder of the score being chosen from his extensive back catalogue. Less publicized here was its Queer Palm Award, a prize given for selected works entered at Cannes, which hints at one of the underlying plot points.
6/10/23 (Sat)
Mori Kazuo’s 1952 film is based on the Igagoe vendetta, one of Japan’s three great vendettas alongside the Soga brothers (referenced in the film) and the 47 Ronin. The story has been memorialized on many occasions, most notably in one of the great plays of Bunraku and Kabuki theater (which lasts a miniseries-sized 7-8 hours if done in full) as well as dozens of films and television dramas. Mori, however, digs behind the legend to tell his distinctive version. Much credit goes to the script by no less than Kurosawa Akira, who must have had his hands full in the director’s chair after the global fame of the previous year’s Rashomon and that year’s Ikiru. The Japanese title is literally Showdown at Kagiya Crossing, which I actually prefer. (That would also avoid confusion with Mori’s later Samurai Vendetta, which has the much more evocative Japanese title Hakuoki (Chronicle of the Pale Pink Cherry Blossoms). English titlists need a better imagination.)
An overwrought opening chambara scene of intrepid derring-do turns out to be an amusing spoof of a legend in which Mataemon is said to have killed 36 men alongside his brave troupe. The narration reveals that the truth was quite different, and the film thereafter examines the real story as drawn from the historical records, at least as interpreted by Mori and Kurosawa. Heroes and villains are not as clear cut as their Kabuki counterparts, and the showdown is nowhere near the photogenic epic that we are expecting.
6/7/23 (Wed)
Okamoto Kihachi made this film in the same year (1968) as his batty The Human Bullet, and it bears much the same sensibility. The Japanese title Kiru means to slash to death, so the similarly sounding English Kill! must have been too tempting to resist. The added exclamation mark is in line with the spirit of this chambara comedy, not a crowded field. The film comes from the same source material as Sanjuro but takes it in an entirely new direction. While it’s nowhere near the level of that classic, it makes for an interesting comparison.
6/6/23 (Tues)
Gosha Hideo’s 1965 Sword of the Beast is his second feature film and first original piece, working with the same writer as Three Outlaw Samurai. He sticks with the beast image as in the previous title. As per the times, this is again a critique of the shogunate with its unfeeling ethos that requires a suppression of one’s humanity to survive.
The story opens in 1857, when the arrival of the Black Ship four years earlier (referred to in the film) has set in motion events that are about to wreak a momentous transformation in Japan. But the characters don’t know that yet, sensing only vague change in the air. When we meet the low-ranking samurai Gennosuke, he is a fugitive, having killed a clan official who rejected his proposal for democratic reform. He is being pursued by the official’s daughter, who is determined to avenge her father’s death.
All is not as it seems, however. Continue reading
6/4/23 (Sun)
Gosha Hideo’s 1964 Three Outlaw Samurai, his first feature-length film, was a prequel to his hugely popular television series of the same name with the same three leads. The series had already been running a year at that point and continued for around 26 episodes annually through March 1969, gathering ratings as high as 42%. (They tried a sequel with new stars the following year, but that only lasted 13 episodes.) The Japanese title, Sanbiki no Samurai, is a play on words: the usual phrase sannin (three [people] – Shichinin no Samurai is the title for Kurosawa’s Seven ~), is replaced here by sanbiki, using the counter for animals, as in Sanbiki no Kobuta (the Three Little Pigs). It’s pretty much untranslatable – a herd of samurai, maybe? – but I guess they did the best they could.
5/28/23 (Sun)
Kobayashi Masaki’s superb 1967 film is oddly titled Samurai Rebellion in English, veering significantly from the Japanese title Jo-i Uchi: Hairyo Tsuma Shimatsu (roughly Decree of Execution: Account of a Wife Bestowed [to a vassal or such by the lord]). In the film, the officials present the command with “jo-i” (official decree) clearly written on the envelope. The subtitle has been creatively translated by some, including film critic Donald Richie (who should know better), as “Receive the Wife”, with speculation that this was added by the studio as a way to attract women to a samurai drama. That seems dubious given that it was in fact the title of the source novel; it was the jo-i uchi that was added later. I imagine that the studio was simply seeking to capitalize on the novel’s success. The English title is misleading since the events are better characterized as resolute resistance to authority than outright rebellion, which implies something more active and larger scale; the samurai are not seeking to overturn the system but to resist the unjust pressure on their family. That is, the English emphasizes the courage of the samurai, while the Japanese refers to the unfairness of the rulers.
sekenbanashi 