The Women around the Shogun / 続大奥 (秘) 物語 / Zoku ooku maruhi monogatari (‘Secret Tales of the Inner Palace Sequel’, 1967)

Obscure Japanese Film #258

Tomoko Ogawa

This Toei production is a sequel to The Shogun and His Mistresses of the same year, and I recommend reading my review of that film first, even though this one has an entirely separate story.

It’s now 1786 and the 10^th shogun, Ieharu (Masao Mishima), is in power. Ochisa (Tomoko Ogawa), the adopted daughter of Lord Abe (Eitaro Ozawa), is sent to serve the shogun at Edo Castle, where her older sister Oshino (Hiroko Sakuramachi) is one of the shogun’s concubines. It’s not long before Ochisa is forced into the same position, but the sisters try not to become enemies despite the bitchy machinations of the other women around them. However, when the shogun suddenly drops dead of a heart attack, Ochisa finds herself sent to a nunnery with the other concubines, where they’re expected to spend the rest of their lives praying for Ieharu’s soul. The head nun (Chieko Hagashiyama) ensures that the women are cut off from the outside world with the result that one goes mad, another turns to lesbianism and a third starts an affair with a priest – but what will become of Ochisa?

Ogawa with Masao Mishima

Dropping the anthology structure of the first film and released just three months later, it’s no surprise that this rushed-into-production sequel is weaker, especially as it relies on an inexperienced actor to carry it – in her first leading role, 18-year-old Tomoko Ogawa was a last-minute replacement for Yoshiko Sakuma (who reportedly objected to what she saw as an increasing sexual emphasis, although the finished product is probably tamer than the first). As if this were not challenging enough, Ochisa is not a terribly interesting character in the first place, although she does eventually reveal another dimension towards the end and Ogawa does a fair job under the circumstances. However, although her performance was well-received and Toei planned to star her in further similar pictures, disappointing box office led them to insist that she do nude scenes from then on, causing her to quit films and turn to singing, where she found considerable success. Incidentally, Yoshiko Sakuma was not the only one to be replaced – shooting began with Michiko Saga as the older sister, but she apparently got in a strop due to too much waiting around and left after three days, forcing Toei to replace her with Hiroko Sakuramachi.

Hiroko Sakuramachi

Casting shenanigans aside, this is still a decent movie, and one which also benefits from the splendidly villainous presence of Ko Nishimura, who instigates an impressively bloody sword fight with multiple opponents at the film’s climax. Composer Sei Ikeno’s score might have been better suited to a horror movie, but it’s not ineffective, while director Sadao Nakajima (who also made the previous film) is adept at extracting the maximum amount of drama from every scene. The original screenplay by Takeo Kunihiro and Takehiro Nakajima might seem too similar to the original at first, but goes off in some interesting directions before finally revealing its surprising theme of an individual rebelling against the oppressive feudal system. Unusually, in this case, the turning worm is no put-upon samurai, but a concubine who has finally had enough of having no say in her own destiny.

Ko Nishimura

DVD at Toei Video (no English subtitles)

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Hachi hyakuman goku ni idomu otoko / 八百万石に挑む男 (‘The Man Who Made an 8 Million koku Challenge’, 1961)

Obscure Japanese Film #191

 

Utaemon Ichikawa and Katsuo Nakamura

1729. Ten’ichibo (Katsuo Nakamura, brother of Kinnosuke Nakamura) is a young man who drifts from town to town gambling and drinking. He carries an antique dagger and letter explaining that the knife is an heirloom given to him as he is the illegitimate son of the eighth shogun, Yoshimune Tokugawa (Shin Tokudaiji), but nobody believes him and Ten’ichibo himself is uncertain of the truth. However, both the letter and the weapon look authentic and when the story comes to the attention of once-powerful samurai vassal Iganosuke (Utaemon Ichikawa), he cares little whether it’s true or not, but sees an opportunity to take over the shogunate by claiming Ten’ichibo as the rightful heir. It’s a high stakes gamble which could cost Ten’ichibo and Iganosuke their lives if they fail, but win them 8 million koku if they succeed (koku being a unit of measurement of rice, which was how wealth was calculated at the time). The shogun’s advisor, Matsudaira (So Yamamura), is also unconcerned about the truth of Ten’ichibo’s parentage, but wants to discredit him anyway to retain the power of the current regime… 

 

So Yamamura

 

Inspired by a real historical event and based on an original screenplay by regular Kurosawa collaborator Shinobu Hashimoto, this Toei production was directed by Nobuo Nakagawa, best remembered today for horror movies such as The Ghost of Yotsuya (1959), though the genre accounted for only eight out of his nearly 100 films. Many of his pictures tended to be quite low budget, but this one looks comparatively expensive, boasting elaborate costumes and impressive sets. Typically for a Hashimoto script, it’s full of cruel ironies and highlights the hypocrisy of the feudal system. 

 

Utaemon Ichikawa

 

Most (if not all) of the cast had theatre backgrounds, and the acting is rather stagey, with many of the actors projecting their voices as if worried about not being heard in the back row.   Given the formal context of most of the dialogues, the stiffness of some cast members is perhaps inevitable, but I’m not sure there’s much excuse for Utaemon Ichikawa, who – with his demoniacal laugh – is such an old ham he’d make Tod Slaughter blush. It’s also a very male-dominated movie, and the one female character (played by Hiroko Sakuramachi) has very little to do except be a victim. Fans of chanbara (sword-fighting films) should be warned that there is very little action (with the climax even taking place off screen), but, on a more positive note, the battle of wills between the two sides is tense enough to hold the interest for the most part, and there’s a fine score by Chumei Watanabe. 

 

Hiroko Sakuramachi

 

The story of the Ten’ichibo jiken, or ‘incident’ (as it is often referred to in Japan), has been filmed many times – there were numerous silent versions (now lost) as well as various TV versions made subsequent to this film. However, the most notable other feature film version is Daisuke Ito’s Suronin makaritoru (1947), the first period drama made after the war, starring Tsumasaburo Bando as Iganosuke and Akihiko Katayama as Ten’ichibo, which is available on DVD (without English subtitles) here. The real Ten’ichibo was arrested, charged with being an imposter, sentenced to death and executed.  

Thanks to A.K.

 

Tales of the Inner Chambers / 大奥絵巻 / Ooku emaki (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #173

Yoshiko Sakuma

 

Edo Castle, c.1790. When virginal chambermaid Aki (Yoshiko Sakuma) catches the eye of the shogun (Takahiro Tamura) while taking part in a dance performance, he decides to make her his concubine. Aki’s elder sister, Asaoke (Chikage Awashima), is already employed at the castle, but once Aki enters the inner chambers, all family ties are supposed to be forgotten. 

Takahiro Tamura

 

Aki is extremely reluctant at first, but has absolutely no choice in the matter; fortunately, the shogun treats her better than she expected. This may be because she reminds him of the girl he wanted to marry who died, leading him to become trapped in a loveless marriage of political convenience to Hagino (Hiroko Sakuramachi). Unfortunately, the favouritism of the shogun for Aki and the fact that this is to the advantage of Asaoke is greatly resented by some female members of the court, who split into two factions. 

Chikage Awashima

 

Aki also has a younger sister, Machi (Reiko Ohara), who has a naïve idea of the inner chambers and wants to work there but is discouraged from doing so by her sisters. When the rival faction offer her a position, the scheming between the two groups spirals out of control, leading to blackmail, torture and murder... 

Reiko Ohara

 

Surprisingly, this Toei production is not based on a literary source – the intelligent screenplay was an original work by Masashige Narusawa (who wrote and directed the recently-reviewed Cards Are My Life). In this case, the director is Kosaku Yamashita, perhaps best-known for the same year’s Big Time Gambling Boss. It looks like he put a great deal of care into this, and was ably abetted by cinematographer Juhei Suzuki (13 Assassins), not to mention those responsible for the costumes and art direction, whose combined talents make this film a feast for the eyes which exploits the colour format to the fullest. Ichiro Saito’s orchestral music is also an integral part of the film and is another asset that marks it out as being far from routine. 

Chikage Awashima

 

As far as I can tell, the story itself has little historical basis. It unfolds rather like a Jacobean tragedy and offers a pretty dark view of human nature. As Asaoke (another fine performance from Chikage Awashima) observes, “There is no righteousness or morality here, only female vanity and ostentation. You slay or be slain, kill or be killed.” Indeed, things do get violent, but not gratuitously so, and the film’s comparative restraint may be one reason it’s not better known. In fact, it’s a fine piece of work all round, and the only explanation for its currently criminally low rating on IMDb (5.4) that occurs to me is that maybe some people didn’t get the sexploitation movie they were expecting. 

Yoshiko Sakuma and Hitomi Nozoe

 

I was surprised to see former Daiei star Hitomi Nozoe in such a minor role as the one she has here, but then realised that she’d left Daiei to have kids in 1962 and had only just begun attempting to resurrect her acting career.

A note on the title: Ooku is the name for the inner palace or chambers of Edo Castle, where the shogun’s harem was kept, while emaki means ‘picture scroll’ rather than ‘tales’.

Thanks to A.K.

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)