Demon Statue/ 魔像 / Mazo (1952)

Obscure Japanese Film #65

Tsumasaburo Bando and Isuzu Yamada

This Shochiku production is based on a popular story by the creator of Tange Sazen, Kaitaro Hasegawa (1900-35). Mazo was first published in 1930 under one of his pen-names, Fubo Hayashi, and the story has been filmed multiple times. Set in the mid-Edo period, it concerns Takanosuke Kamio* (Tsumasaburo Bando), who works as a guard at the castle and is disgusted with the corruption of his superiors. They also mock him as effeminate as he prefers to spend his time with his beautiful young wife, Sonoe (Keiko Tsushima). 

Keiko Tsushima

 

One New Year’s Day, he is summoned to appear before them and the abuse goes further than usual, instigated by Omisuke Tobe (Mitsuo Nagata), who is jealous of Takanosuke as he had desired Sonoe for himself. He throws something at Takanosuke, gashing his forehead, and the group of 18 men bully him into making an apology for some imaginary transgression. Seated on the tatami, Takanosuke bows low and when he remains that way, Omisuke begins to shove him but is disconcerted when Takanosuke suddenly laughs in his face and walks out. Omisuke sees this crazed laugh as an insult and goes after him. Returning a while later, he drops dead in front of the others and they realise he has been slain by Takanosuke, who goes on the run. He falls in with a ronin, Ukon Ibara (Tsumasaburo Bando again), who looks just like him, and his wife, O-Gen (Isuzu Yamada). They also hate the corrupt officials and decide to help Takanosuke to get revenge on the other 17 men…

Given that an alternative translation of ‘mazo’ is ‘golem’, I had expected to see a monster made from stone or clay going on the rampage, but in that I was sadly disappointed. I can only assume that Takanosuke himself is the ‘demon statue’ in the sense that he is unflinching in his revenge. This story of rebellion has quite a lot in common with director Tatsuo Osone’s later Honno-ji in Flames, even down to the forehead-gashing suffered by the hero. 

 

Tsumasaburo Bando

However, this is the lesser of the two works – it’s a smaller scale production and contains a surprising amount of comic elements, including the coquettish wife portrayed by Isuzu Yamada, who steals every scene she’s in. 

Isuzu Yamada

 

If it seems hard to believe this is Lady Macbeth from Throne of Blood, after having seen at least 23 of her films by this point, I’ve been so impressed by her versatility that I’ve come to think of her as a sort of female Alec Guinness. 

Tsumasaburo Bando x 2

 

Tsumasaburo Bando is also good in two contrasting roles, but then he had certainly had plenty of practise as he had played them both twice before (see note below). He was one of those big stars of the era who is largely forgotten about now, perhaps partly because he passed away due to a stroke only one year after making this film. Also something of a revelation here is Masao Mishima, who appears in a role completely unlike any other I've seen him in and pulls it off nicely.

Masao Mishima

 

This is a well-made and enjoyable film, but ultimately an inconsequential one which never really rises above the level of entertainment. 

Tsumasaburo Bando

 

*An alternative reading of Takanosuke Kamio is Kyounosuke Kajio. I’m uncertain which is correct. 

Other versions:

1930 by Daisuke Ito starring Denjiro Okochi

1936 by Jun Ishigami also starring Tsumasaburo Bando 

1938 by Hiroshi Inagaki also starring Tsumasaburo Bando 

1956 by Kinnosuke Fukada starring Ryutaro Otomo

1962 as Chimoji yashiki ('Blood Letter 

Mansion') by Eiichi Kudo starring Ryutaro Otomo

Isuzu Yamada

 

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.’

Kao (Face) / 顔 (1957)

Obscure Japanese Film #18

Mariko Okada

 

The Seicho Matsumoto short story on which this film is loosely based appeared in English in a collection entitled The Voice and Other Stories (now out of print). The protagonist is an ambitious theatre actor whose ‘nihilistic’ face attracts the attention of a top film director, but whose big break in movies may cost him his freedom – he murdered his pregnant girlfriend some years before to evade his responsibilities and knows that a witness who saw him shortly before the crime is likely to identify him if he becomes a film star. Naturally, he decides that a second murder is the answer to his problems and, equally naturally, things fail to go as planned.

 

Mariko Okada and Akira Yamanouchi

This Shochiku production bears little resemblance to the original. Here, the protagonist is Akiko (Mariko Okada), a fashion model who has an argument on a train with a backstreet abortionist (Akira Yamanouchi) she had been to for help (and possibly had a relationship with). A struggle ensues in which he falls from the train (with the help of a well-timed shove from Akiko). When he later dies in hospital, Akiko sends some flowers anonymously, a gesture which attracts the attention of a mild-mannered local detective (Ozu favourite Chishu Ryu). Not long after the incident, Akiko gets a break at work and finds she is to be promoted as a top model, but her plans are spoilt when Ishioka (Minoru Oki), a seedy character who had seen her arguing with the abortionist on the train, begins stirring things up.

Chishu Ryu

 

Eitaro Ozawa

Noriko Sengoku and Mariko Okada

Although Eitaro Ozawa pops up as a fashion bigwig who sexually harasses Akiko and Kurosawa favourite Noriko Sengoku is memorable as her down-to-earth best friend, this is Okada’s movie all the way. As Akiko, an opportunist raised in poverty, she uses her large, wonderfully expressive eyes to considerable effect and is far more sympathetic than the one-dimensional cold-blooded murderer of Matsumoto’s original.

The surreal joys of auto-translate.

 

The musical saw on the soundtrack means that the music can only be the work of the prolific Toshiro Mayuzumi, an avant-garde composer of great talent whose passion for experimentation sometimes led him to make whimsical choices when scoring films. Indeed, shortly before working on Kao he had been criticised for his eccentric use of a musical saw on Kenji Mizoguchi’s Akasen chitai (puritanically retitled Street of Shame in the West).  Nevertheless, he became Shohei Imamura’s composer of choice and, when John Huston was struggling to find a composer he felt could provide what he wanted for The Bible (1966), it was to Mayuzumi that he turned, re-employing him the following year for Reflections of a Golden Eye.

Director Tatsuo Osone (1904-63) seems to have been a journeyman who worked mainly on historical dramas; here, he does a competent if mostly unremarkable job, while his camera movements suggest the influence of Hollywood. In fact, there are moments that recall Hitchcock even if the film never reaches that standard.

Kao is must-see for fans of Mariko Okada and is also likely to be appreciated by those who enjoy films based on the works of crime writer Seichi Matsumoto, of which this was the first. There would be many good ones to come, especially those directed by Yoshitaro Nomura. Matsumoto’s popularity seems never to have waned in Japan, and the original story would go on to be filmed umpteen times for television there. As far as I can tell, Kao has never been screened abroad.

The film is available on DVD (without subtitles) here.