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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The Samurai of Edo / 江戸一寸の虫 / Edo issun no mushi (1955)

Obscure Japanese Film #241

Rentaro Mikuni

In the last years of the Tokugawa shogunate, six people are sentenced to exile for attacking two arrogant British VIPs who had broken etiquette by going through a torii on horseback, beaten a Japanese man who tried to stop them, and entered a shrine without removing their boots. Government official Aoki (Rentaro Mikuni) objects to the sentence and resigns in protest, choosing to become a ronin rather than serve a regime he does not believe in. He shacks up with former prostitute O-Tatsu (Michiyo Aratama) and spends his days lying around drinking sake until one day he’s approached by the Shinchogumi, who want to expel the foreigners from Japan and are seeking his assistance. Reluctant at first, he eventually decides to help and, in the process, meets rich man’s daughter Tae (Michiko Saga), with whom he falls in love…

Michiyo Aratama and Mikuni

This 123-minute period drama is one of the more ambitious productions to have come out of Nikkatsu studios. Adapted by regular Kurosawa collaborator Ryuzo Kikushima together with the obscure Michio Otsuke (whose only other credit appears to be a 1956 movie about kamikaze pilots*), it was based on an untranslated novel of the same name by Minoru Nakano (1901-73) serialised in the Sunday Mainichi magazine in 1955, the same year the film was produced. Nakano does not seem to have been an especially well-regarded writer, although Mikio Naruse made two films in 1935 based on his work, The Actress and The Poet and Wife! Be Like a Rose! His Japanese Wikipedia page states that he co-founded an organisation named the Cultural Patriotic Association during the war years and fell out with his friend the comic actor Roppa Furukawa when the latter criticised Nakano’s support for the war.

Michiyo Aratama

The obvious anti-foreigner sentiment in The Samurai of Edo would have prevented such a film being made during the years of American occupation (which ended in 1952). Although the behaviour of the British men at the beginning of the film is outrageous, it’s an entirely fictional incident as far as I’m aware. The film’s xenophobia, which waxes nostalgic for the days when all the gaijin were kept out of Japan, may well be one reason why it’s not better known.

In regard to the main cast, there’s a strong performance from Rentaro Mikuni in the leading role even if – as was typical for him – he’s perhaps a little too unsympathetic to invest in emotionally. At one point, Mikuni gets to beat the crap out of a mob of samurai single-handed, something which he pulls off very well. Given his famous pursuit of realism – also evident in the scene in which he spits blood out of his mouth – one can only feel sorry for the actors playing his opponents. The female stars fare less well. Michiyo Aratama, who’s probably best-remembered these days for her role in The Human Condition (1959-61), gives a better performance than her doormat role deserves, while Michiko Saga (daughter of Isuzu Yamada and star of The Mad Fox) looks pretty enough but is defeated by her thinly-written part.

Photographed by Kazue Nagatsuka, a veteran from the silent days who later became known for his work with Seijun Suzuki, it’s a good-looking and well-made film which also has a decent score by Yojimbo composer Masaru Sato, even if there’s a little too much of it. There’s also a little too much of the film itself in my view, as I can’t say that the two-hours exactly flew by… Still, if you’re a fan of jidaigeki of this period, I would say check it out if you get the chance as there are certainly some things to enjoy here.

This is actually the first film I’ve seen by director Eisuke Takizawa, who had been an actor in the silent days before turning to directing in 1928; he subsequently made 84 films before passing away in 1965. His only brush with international recognition came with a Golden Bear nomination at the 1958 Berlin Film Festival for Byakuya no yojo (aka The Temptress and The Monk). Anyway, based on the evidence of The Samurai of Edo, he may be worth investigating further as its flaws are mostly in the material itself rather than the handling of it, which is more than merely competent throughout.

The original title references the Japanese saying 一寸の虫にも五分の魂 (issun no mushi ni mo gobu no tamashii), which can be translated as ‘even little worms have souls’, ‘a tiny insect also has a spirit’, etc, or – more literally – ‘even an insect measuring 1 sun (about 3 cm) has a soul (heart) measuring half that size, or 5 bu (about 1.5 cm)’ [Google AI Overview etymology] or ‘it is said that even an insect less than an inch in size has a soul equal to half its body length’ [imidas.jp translated by Google]. 

* Nake, Nihon kokumin: Saigo no sentoki (‘Cry, Japanese People: The Last Fighter Plane’)

Film at Amazon Prime Japan (no English subtitles)

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A Dangerous Age / 続十代の性典 / Zoku judai no seiten (1953)

Obscure Japanese Film #118

 

Ayako Wakao

The Japanese title of this film (which translates as ‘Teenage Sex Diary Sequel’) is somewhat misleading as this is a separate story from Judai no seiten and, while it again features Yoko Minamida, Ayako Wakao and Miki Odagiri, they are playing new characters.

Yoko Minamida

 

Akiko (Minamida) is an 18-year-old high school student at a single-sex (possibly Catholic) school. One day, seeing Yoda (Ken Hasebe), a male student, drop a watch in the street, she picks it up and runs after him to return it, but he jumps onto a train before she can do so. She manages to find him at the station the next day, when he treats her to coffee and cake before inviting her to see his flat. Akiko naively accepts, but flees the place after he makes a pass. As she leaves, Yoda calls after her, saying that she is welcome to visit anytime. 

Jun Negami

 

Meanwhile, Akiko’s best friend, Natsuko (Wakao), accepts an invitation from Toshio (Yosuke Irie) to a party but is forced to stay home by her mother, who wants her to study maths at home with the new tutor she’s hired, a medical student named Masato (Jun Negami). Feeling guilty at standing up Toshio, Akiko pays him a visit the next day to apologise. However, when she failed to appear, he had ended up being seduced by an older woman (Murasaki Fujima) and losing his virginity. Natsuko has no knowledge of this, so she’s shocked to find that the sweet, gentle boy she had known has changed overnight and now thinks that he’s Dan Duryea. When Toshio tries to force himself on her, she gives him a few slaps and a good telling off, and decides not to see him again. Despite her annoyance, Natsuko takes the incident in her stride, forgets about him and moves on.

 

Akiko, on the other hand, proves less able to handle this kind of situation. Natsuko’s new tutor is actually Akiko’s cousin, whom she has feelings for, so she begins to feel jealous as she sees Masato taking an interest in his new pupil, even though this jealousy proves groundless. Masato is actually so much in love with his cousin that his thesis is on the viability of incestuous marriage. Nevertheless, Akiko’s feelings of insecurity are compounded when she discovers that her widowed mother (Kuniko Miyake) has been having a clandestine relationship with a businessman, Ueda (Nobuo Nakamura). Believing herself unwanted, she remembers her open invitation to Yoda’s apartment and foolishly goes there, where she is not only raped but impregnated. When she misses her period, her bitchy classmate (Miki Odagiri) begins to suspect the truth and starts spreading rumours. Things come to a head when the pregnant Akiko finds herself cast as that icon of purity, Joan of Arc, in the school play… 

Miki Odagiri

 

Ayako Wakao, Yoko Minamida and Michiko Saga

This is a slight improvement on Judai no seiten as it’s not quite as risible despite some daft moments. Director Koji Shima has been replaced by the younger Kozo Saeki (1912-72), who also made The Girl Who Tamed Beasts. At first, I thought that the Christian propaganda featured in the first film had been scrapped until I noticed that Michiko Saga (in one of her first film appearances, here playing another classmate of Akiko’s) was wearing a crucifix, and then Ayako Wakao appeared playing a bishop in the school’s Joan of Arc play. I’m unsure how to account for the Christian theme, but perhaps screenwriter Katsuya Susaki or producer Itsuo Doi (both of whom worked on all four films in this series) were Christians, or perhaps it was normal during this period for reasonably wealthy Japanese families to send their daughters to Catholic schools. In any case, although we may laugh at certain aspects of these movies today, it’s not difficult to see how they might have served a valuable function at the time in encouraging discussion of awkward subjects.

 

Gero no kubi /下郎の首 /'Gero's Head' (1955)

Obscure Japanese Film #46

Michiko Saga and Jun Tazaki

 

Writer-director Daisuke Ito’s remake of his own 1927 film Gero (since lost) is a period drama (or jidaigeki) made for Shintoho.[1] Jun Tazaki stars as Geru, a manservant whose master (Minoru Takada) is killed as a result of an argument during a game of go. Geru was fishing with the master’s adult son, Shintaro (Akihiko Katayama), at the time of the incident. By the time they return, the unnamed killer (Eitaro Ozawa) has fled the scene, but they learn that he has nine moles on his face. Geru and Shintaro set off on a quest to find the murderer, but Shintaro falls ill and Geru is forced to become a busker, performing spear dances to support them both. 

Eitaro Ozawa

 

One day, sheltering from the rain outside a house, Geru is lent an umbrella by the inhabitant, Oichi (Michiko Saga, daughter of Isuzu Yamada and star of The Mad Fox), and a friendship develops when he comes to return it. Geru learns that Oichi is the concubine of a man named Sudo. During a later visit, Sudo unexpectedly returns and Geru is shocked to discover that he’s the man with nine moles on his face…

Jun Tazaki

 

In Japanese cinema history, Daisuke Ito – who made his first film in 1920 – is known as the father of the period drama, and there is no doubt that he was an innovative and hugely influential filmmaker. One of his few surviving silent films, Jirokichi the Rat (1931) remains impressive today. Geru no kubi is an extremely well-directed film in the way Ito stages his scenes, co-ordinates the actors, focuses on surprising details and uses dynamic crane and dolly shots combined with strong compositions and depth of field. Ito can be amazingly bold, too; in one scene during a voiceover, he fills the screen with a shot of a blank piece of paper and holds the shot for over two minutes! 

Akihiko Katayama

 

On the basis of this film and the other Ito works I’ve seen, in my opinion Ito’s weakness is that he sometimes either allows or encourages his actors to go over the top. There’s a running ‘gag’ here in which Gero’s legs go dead every time he has to kneel for a while, meaning that he’s unable to walk properly when he gets up. This clumsy slapstick is unfortunate in a film which is otherwise pretty sober in tone even if it lacks the depth to make it a true classic. However, the un-Hollywood like preference in Japanese cinema for a tragic ending is certainly well-catered to and comes after a grand climax in which we finally get a generous helping of chanbara (sword-fighting) action, albeit of the (presumably deliberately) clumsy variety.  

Koji Mitsui

 

Tetsuro Tanba

Also among the cast are the scene-stealing Koji Mitsui in a Lon Chaney-like role as a fake paraplegic beggar and Tetsuro Tanba as a passing samurai Geru and Shintaro manage to offend. The impressive cinematography is by Yoshimi Hirano, who also shot The Life of Oharu (1951). Jun Tazaki is decent enough in the lead, but a little lacking in star quality. However, the film's qualities far outweigh its flaws and Gero no kubi is a good example of why Daisuke Ito's work should be much better known than it is today.

Watched without subtitles.

Michiko Saga

 

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[1] The original was based on a story by one Tokichi Nakamura, who is for some reason uncredited on this version.

Honno-ji in Flames / 敵は本能寺にあり / Teki wa Honnoji ni ari (‘The Enemy is at Honno-ji’, 1960)

Obscure Japanese Film #42

Hakuo Matsumoto

 

The presence of Chikage Awashima and Keiko Kishi among the cast of this jidaigeki (period drama) made me think it might be a cut above the average, and so it is – at least to some extent…

Takahiro Tamura

 

The late 16^th-century: Akechi Mitsuhide (Hakuo Matsumoto) is a daimyo and military commander continually bullied into doing things he doesn’t want to by his lord, Oda Nobunaga (Takahiro Tamura). Not only has he been forced to break his word to two brothers fighting on the opposing side that he would spare their lives if they surrendered, but he’s also been manipulated into agreeing to a marriage for his daughter, Tama (Keiko Kishi), against her wishes, and there seems to be no respite from the unreasonable demands. Notions of feudal fealty dictate that Mitsuhide go along with all this without complaint – it’s a classic example of the conflict in Japanese drama between giri (obligation) and ninjo (inclination). One day, Mitsuhide raises his voice in objection to a command from his lord and Nobunaga beats him over the head in front of his peers, leaving a permanent scar. This proves to be one humiliation too far for Mitsuhide, and the worm finally turns…

Keiko Kishi

 

The basic premise is not dissimilar to that of the later Samurai Rebellion (1967), although kabuki actor Hakuo Matsumoto (1910-82) does not quite have  the charisma of Toshiro Mifune (who does?) and receives few opportunities to show what he can do with a sword as this is no chanbara. However, the few short battle scenes are well-staged and Matsumoto certainly looks the part. As an actor, he was apparently keen to push the boundaries and even played Othello on stage the same year. [1]

Chikage Awashima

 

Honno-ji in Flames is quite a lavish Shochiku production directed by veteran Tatsuo Osone (1904-63), who also made the previously-reviewed contemporary crime thriller, Kao, but was more in his element here. This is a well-made film with good camerawork courtesy of Osone’s frequent collaborator Hideo Ishimoto and a decent if unremarkable score by Mitsuo Kato. The screenplay is an original work co-written by the historical novelist Shotaro Ikenami (1923-1990), author of the books on which the Hideo Gosha films Kumokiri Nizaemon (1978) and Hunter in the Dark (1979) were based. In this case, he used the true story of Akechi Mitsuhide and filled in the gaps (Mitsuhide did indeed rebel against his lord, Oda Nobunaga, at Honno-ji temple in Kyoto in 1582). 

Michiko Saga and Takahiro Tamura

 

What the film lacks is characters of more than one dimension – a shame, as a bit more depth in this department might have made it a classic. It does, however, have a downbeat ending I found highly effective and some nice touches, such as the scene in which Nobunaga’s wife (Michiko Saga from The Mad Fox) actively participates in a battle by supplying arrows to her husband instead of running away to hide as the women so often do in these films. Overall, it’s an impressive effort well worth a look for fans of this genre.

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[1] Confusingly, Hakuo Matsumoto was also known as Koshiro Matsumoto VIII, and the filmography for ‘Koshiro Matsumoto’ on IMDb contains entries not only for him, but for his son, Koshiro Matsumoto IX (1942-) and grandson, Koshiro Matsumoto X (1973-), while there’s also a separate page for ‘Hakuo Matsumoto.’