- クラウド (Cloud)
9/7/26 (Mon)
Kurosawa Kiyoshi’s 2024 suspense film takes a hairpin curve midway to become a very different flick.
9/7/26 (Mon)
Kurosawa Kiyoshi’s 2024 suspense film takes a hairpin curve midway to become a very different flick.
9/5/26 (Sat)
Imamura Shohei’s 1958 heist comedy was his third that year, the first (his debut feature) being the similarly titled Stolen Desire. These seem to have been studio assignments, so the fully formed Imamura style isn’t quite there. But the seeds are in place. This is supposedly based on an obscure Edward G Robinson film, though that’s not officially credited.
8/28/26 (Fri)
This is the 25th anniversary of writer/director Hashiguchi Ryosuke’s seminal gay film, which I haven’t seen since it came out. I remember little more than that I enjoyed it, but I thought of it when I saw one of the leads, Takahashi Kazuya, in this year’s Samurai Vengeance as a, let’s say, unconventional-looking onnagata. This film was back when he was young and beautiful, as were we all.
The story of two gay men and a woman who wants a baby sounded like a setup for a typical romcom, but the film takes an unexpected turn into more profound territory. Continue reading
8/15/26 (Sat)
Oshima Nagisa’s sensational 1960 sophomore effort proved a major hit for Shochiku, a far cry from its staid family fare at the time. The cruelty in the title is no joke. In line with the nihilistic Sun Tribe films that were popular at the time with all the usual images (motorboats, Hawaiian shirts, nightclubs, apathetic men, casual sex, abortions), but showing the seamy side of society rather than the aimless middle class. Stylistically in line with New Wave French films with its jumpy camerawork and discordant images; Oshima specifically cites Breathless as an inspiration. This film sparked what is known as a Japanese New Wave, though he dismisses the phrase as a mere signal for sex and violence – which is certainly true in his case.
7/8/26 (Wed)
A young man on a subway, listening blankly on his earphones to the incessantly repetitive “Bolero”, sees a guy lashing out at a woman whose baby is crying but does nothing to help her. He alights at a station and gets a call from his girlfriend, who tells him she’s pregnant. She is frightened and trying to decide whether to abort it. He tells her that he’ll go right away to the hospital.
Heading for Exit 8, he becomes caught in an endless loop of corridors. A sign informs him that he can only go forward if there are no anomalies – but it’s up to him to decide what is and isn’t an anomaly. If he fails, he will be sent back to the start, where he must go through the process again.
5/26/26 (Tues)
The late Inoue Hisashi’s 1987 comedy was being performed by his theater group Komatsuza for the first time in 22 years. It’s another of his plays obliquely criticizing events surrounding the war. He said in a program note that for all the patriotic cheering from all sides during the war, he could find no one afterwards who would admit responsibility for it. The title is a pun on the Japanese idiom hana yori dango (rice cakes before flowers), that is, prioritizing the practical over the aesthetic. The substitution of tango for dango rice cakes suggests that he sees culture or spirit as necessary sustenance to make it through the war-driven devastation.
8/21/26 (Fri)
The Japanese title of Minamoto Takashi’s entertaining period flick, based on a best-selling book, translates to Revenge at Kobikicho, referring to a former district that boasted one of Edo’s three great Kabuki theaters, the Moritaza (near today’s Kabukiza). I was taken by the odd spelling of the word “revenge” in the title, only later realizing its significance. The English title as usual throws in “samurai” for marketing purposes, but the only real samurai swordfight in the film is not what it seems. This is, in fact, less a warrior bloodfest than a comedy-mystery.
The setting is 1810. A woman coming out of a crowded performance at the Moritaza – playing, as it happens, the ultimate vendetta drama Chushingura (The 47 Ronin) – is suddenly approached in the snowy streets by a ruffian. The “woman” turns out to be a samurai, Kikunosuke, in disguise, and the ruffian, Sakubei, is the one who killed the man’s father back in rural Mino (today’s Gifu). Kikunosuke throws off his bright red kimono to reveal a warrior’s outfit and sword underneath. People quickly gather to watch a real-life revenge drama, and the theater obliges by turning its spotlights (did those exist in 1810??) onto the fighters. After a vigorous battle, Kikunosuke emerges with the attacker’s head and declares loudly that he has achieved his vendetta. It seems odd that the hunted would seek out his hunter or that they would coincidentally meet on the streets in faraway Edo, especially given Kikunosuke’s disguise. But that doesn’t seem to occur to anyone amid all the excitement. When this scene repeats itself at the end of the film, we see it in a whole new light (shades of One Cut of the Dead).
8/15/26 (Sat)
Photographer/artist Sugimoto Hiroshi commissioned this provocative Noh piece, which debuted last year, about Itagaki Seishiro, a general in the Imperial Japanese Army who oversaw the occupation of Manchuria and its conversion to a puppet state. He was later convicted of war crimes and executed as a Class A criminal at Tokyo’s Sugamo Prison. The performance is being held on the 81st anniversary of the war’s end.
Sugimoto had some time ago discovered an extended poem written impressively in ancient Chinese by Itagaki during his postwar imprisonment that provided an insight into his motivation and actions, with a healthy dose of self-justification. Itagaki contends that Japan took over Manchuria in order to save it from the corrupt Chinese government, which was bringing the people only misery. He aimed to build a US-type federation under his ideal of Five Races Under One Union (五族共和) in which the region’s five major ethnic groups (Manchus, Han Chinese, Japanese, Mongols, Koreans) could live in harmony. That is, the Japanese colonization of the region and establishment of Manchukuo was an act of altruism on behalf of the Manchu people.
That may very well be true, but Lenin and Mao could make the same claim on behalf of their actions. Continue reading
8/5/26 (Wed)
Kurosawa Kiyoshi makes a rare venture into period pieces with this detective story posing as a samurai drama, based on a Naoki Prize-winning novel of 2021. The creative Japanese title translates as “Black Prison Castle”, referring to the dungeon in which one character is held, the castle itself that the lord has effectively made a prison, and the dark mindset in which the lord resides. I thought this might be an historical nickname for the real-life structure, which is actually named Arioka Castle, but it’s apparently an invention by the book’s author and is not mentioned in either the book or screenplay. It’s been noted that “kuro” (black) is part of the hostage’s name (Kuroda) and thus may be a subtle reference to him as well. Whatever. I assume that US distributors felt it necessary to throw “samurai” in as a marketing ploy, but I really wish they’d use some imagination. (For one thing, the lead is a daimyo, not a mere samurai, though I’m sure the distributors will argue that it’s a comment on the role reversal in the story.)
7/5/26 (Sun)
I decided to watch Fukasaku Shinji’s 1968 film of Mishima Yukio’s nutty detective comedy upon the death of its star, the cross-dressing Miwa Akihiro, just last week at the age of 91. The part in the original 1962 stage show was played by an actual female, the venerable Mizutani Yaeko, but Miwa (reputedly Mishima’s lover) became closely associated with the show over the years. Despite claims to the contrary, Miwa was not playing the role in drag, which implies some sort of parody, but in utmost seriousness as a woman in a Japanese tradition going back centuries. That fits the hall-of-mirrors free-flow of identities throughout, not least when Miwa disguises himself as a man – a Victor Victoria touch that highlights the moment in a way that actresses can’t touch. (Miwa performs here under his real name Maruyama, but I’ll refer to him below by his much better known stage name.)
7/4/26 (Sat)
A gender-bending piece of 1974 by Fujisawa Isao, his only feature movie after stints as assistant director to Hiroshi Teshigahara (on Woman in the Dunes and The Face of Another, no less) and on yakuza films. I can see the influence of the former in the slipperiness of identity, and Bonnie and Clyde is an obvious inspiration (others frequently mention Pierrot le Fou, which I haven’t seen). It’s not the first Japanese film with an overtly gay character – the wild Funeral Parade of Roses beat it by five years – but it has an arresting take on the subject. While the film was apparently a relative success at the time, it had been thought lost for years and was only rediscovered in 2022.
12/19/21 (Sun)
Ozu’s 1959 film was supposed to be a remake of his 1932 silent classic I Was Born, But…, but the only resemblance was the presence of two young brothers rebelling against their parents (hunger strike in earlier film vs. vow of silence here). One of the last films he ever made, it still feels fresh and fun.