Onna no kunsho /女の勲章 (‘A Woman’s Medal’, 1961)

Obscure Japanese Film #80

Machiko Kyo

 

This Daiei production is based on a novel by Toyoko Yamasaki (1924-2013), an author of best-selling novels which often dealt with scheming, corruption and scandal in various industries and were based on interviews with insiders. Many of these were turned into successful films, such as The Great White Tower (the medical industry), A Splendid Family (the banking industry) and Barren Zone (the aviation industry). She became the subject of scandal herself for a while when she faced several accusations of plagiarism, but ultimately these failed to do any serious damage to her career. However, Yamasaki was more popular with readers than critics, most of whom saw little of literary merit in her work. Onna no kunsho, published the year of the film’s release, was the first example of what became the familiar Yamasaki formula and is set in the world of the fashion industry. 

 

Jiro Tamiya

Machiko Kyo stars as Shikiko, a talented fashion designer in Osaka* who forms an alliance with an ambitious business manager, Ginshiro (Jiro Tamiya). Unfortunately, behind the fake concern for her welfare, Ginshiro is an unscrupulous character who seeks only to exploit her for his own ends. After seducing Shikiko, he talks her into signing off on a lot of dodgy deals, then proceeds to work his way through her senior designers, Rinko (Ayako Wakao), Katsumi (Junko Kano) and Tomie (Tamao Nakamura), seducing each in turn and using them to expand the company and consolidate his own position. 

 

Ayako Wakao

Junko Kano and Tamao Nakamura

Although Tamiya later played a similarly ruthless character in the 1966 film of Yamasaki’s The Great White Tower – which became his signature role – Ginshiro is an unusual part for him in that he talks a lot and is not at all moody, being almost entirely unfazed by whatever difficult situation may occur. Tamiya handles this well and holds his own among a cast dominated by formidable female stars. Most of the female characters here turn out to be just as duplicitous as Ginshiro, and when somebody finally shows some moral backbone, it’s in the unlikely form of a journalist (the excellent Eiji Funakoshi). Journalists are seldom depicted as the most ethical of people, so the fact that Yamasaki was a former journalist herself might not be entirely coincidental. 

 

Eiji Funakoshi

Kaneto Shindo’s screenplay results in a very talky film with largely unsympathetic characters I found it difficult to care about very much, making it a stark contrast to the last film I reviewed here, A Night to Remember, also starring Ayako Wakao and Jiro Tamiya and directed by Kozaburo Yoshimura. I had the distinct impression that Yoshimura was less invested in this film as the direction is competent but seldom notable. However, Onna no kunsho does have a highly effective ending and was presumably successful at the box office as it has been remade for television three times since.  

*Shikiko is said to have been based on real-life Osakan fashion designer Yasuko Ueda (1906-96). 

A Night to Remember / その夜は忘れない / Sono yoru wa wasurenai (1962)

Obscure Japanese Film #79

Jiro Tamiya and Ayako Wakao

 

This Daiei production stars Jiro Tamiya as Kyosuke, a Tokyo journalist who is also something of a playboy. He’s sent on assignment to Hiroshima to cover the memorial ceremony for the 17th anniversary of the dropping of the bomb. He begins by visiting the museum, where he’s disturbed by the grisly artefacts on display and seems to hear the voices of the dead whispering to him. He also interviews some A-bomb survivors; one, a young woman with a disfigured face, is disconcertingly cheerful and has long accepted her condition, but Kyosuke nevertheless feels uncomfortable in her presence and has trouble looking her in the face. In fact, he’s so affected by what he sees and hears that, when a carefree young Japanese couple speed past him on a motorbike, he finds himself glaring at them resentfully.

 

Hoping to take his mind off the bomb, Kyosuke meets up with an old friend, Kikuta (Keizo Kawasaki), who takes him to a bar, where he is introduced to the manageress, Akiko (Ayako Wakao). Kyosuke and Akiko are attracted to each other, but she seems uncommonly keen to avoid the topic of the bomb…

 

Kozaburo Yoshimura (1911-2000) was a highly respected director of serious dramas and literary adaptations (his 1951 version of The Tale of Genji is especially good). Here, he’s working from an original screenplay by Yoko Mizuki, Kosei Shirai and Tokuhei Wakao (no relation to Ayako as far as I’m aware). One of the film’s strengths is that it’s mostly shot on location, and veteran cinematographer Joji Ohara makes it look great. The fact that Yoshimura used several real-life A-bomb survivors in the cast also lends authenticity. 

What really carries the film, however, is the performances of the two leads. In my view, among male Japanese film stars of the ‘60s, Jiro Tamiya was one of the best actors, and he puts across the conflicted feelings of Kyosuke very well here. Ayako Wakao has less screen time despite being top-billed, and first appears 24 minutes in; of course, when she finally arrives, she delivers her usual flawless performance. 

 

The film, on the other hand, does have its flaws – Ikuma Dan’s music is often intrusive and unsubtle, while the story relies far too much on coincidence (Kyosuke has chance meetings with people that he knows on no less than three occasions!). However, the sensitive acting of Tamiya and Wakao makes this a genuinely moving experience. 

Get ‘em All / みな殺しの歌より 拳銃よさらば! / ‘Minagoroshi no uta' yori kenju-yo saraba! (From the ‘Song of Annihilation’-Farewell, Gun!) (1960)

Obscure Japanese Film #78

Hiroshi Mizuhara and Akemi Kita

This Toho crime flick was a vehicle for Hiroshi Mizuhara* (1935-78), a pop singer who had just become hugely popular at the time. He plays Kyosuke, a young man fresh out of prison, who goes to stay with his brother, Kozo (Akihiko Hirata), and his wife, Mamiko (Yukiko Shimazaki). However, it’s not long before Kozo is killed in a suspicious hit-and-run – something which fails to make much impression on Mamiko, who observes that she ‘can’t dance the mambo with a dead man’ and assumes she will simply switch brothers. Kyosuke, though, has other ideas, and begins investigating his brother’s death. 

Tatsuya Nakadai

 

First, he pays a visit to Kozo’s best friend, Tsubota (Tatsuya Nakadai), a crippled ex-boxer. Not wanting to shatter Kyosuke’s illusions, Tsubota decides not to tell him that Kozo was involved in a bank robbery with himself and five other men and that the loot has gone missing. Kyosuke leaves, still under the impression that Kozo was an honest citizen, but then he finds a coin locker key in his brother’s wallet. When he opens the locker, he’s surprised to find a revolver inside; later, he gets in a fight with his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend, Namioka (Jerry Fujio). During the scuffle, his jacket falls open, revealing the gun, and Namioka immediately backs down. Realising his new-found power, Kyosuke orders Namioka to get down on all fours and ‘squeal like a pig.’ He's delighted when Namioka does just that, and the power of the pistol goes to Kyosuke’s head as he sets about getting revenge on the men who murdered his brother. 

Mizuhara and Nakadai

 

The director of this film, Eizo Sugawa, had directed Tatsuya Nakadai in the excellent The Beast Must Die the previous year and had also written the script for A Dangerous Hero (1957) featuring Nakadai. I couldn’t help feeling it a pity that this third and final collaboration should be this, rather than a sequel to Beast – a film which introduced a fascinating Ripley-like antihero to Japanese cinema and left things wide open for a part two. Having said that, Get ‘em All is a well-made, entertaining and stylish noir.

Hiroshi Mizuhara

In my opinion, Mizuhara gives a good performance but doesn’t quite cut it as a film star. He appeared in around 20 movies (not always in the lead) but his career was harmed by his alcoholism and gambling addiction. It’s a little strange to see him in the starring role instead of Nakadai (who receives special billing), but Nakadai always relished these slightly odd parts; in fact, it’s one of a number of ‘bad leg’ roles he would play throughout his career. However, perhaps the role had another attraction for him as he had actually flirted with boxing before becoming an actor, but decided he didn’t like being punched in the face and gave it up. There’s a scene here in which he really goes at it with a punching bag and it certainly looks like he had some moves; indeed, he later got into a scrap with Kinnosuke Nakamura in real life, and I think it was Tetsuro Tanba who said that Nakadai was the best at fighting. Talking of Tanba, he’s also good here as the toughest of the gang members. 

Tetsuro Tanba

 

Also notable among the cast are Kurosawa favourite Seiji Miyaguchi in one of his trademark downtrodden-loser roles, and Kyoko Kishida (the Woman in the Dunes) as the girlfriend of another gang member. 

Seiji Miyaguchi

 

Kyoko Kishida

Get ‘em All was based on the novel Minagoroshi no uta by Haruhiko Oyabu, who had also written The Beast Must Die. In the original, the criminal gang are not bank robbers, but are involved in a black market morphine racket. While the loose adaptation here is nothing special in terms of story, director Sugawa and his screenwriter, Shuji Terayama – later an art-house director known for films such as Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets – inject it with some nice touches of black humour, and emphasize the very obvious Freudian symbolism of the pistol. Indeed, there’s an implication here that Japanese men had been, in a sense, emasculated after the war by the occupying Americans; this is made most explicit when Kyosuke is nearly shot by a kid dressed as a cowboy who has got hold of his gun and claims to be… ‘Burt Lancaster’!

 * not 'Mizuwara'

Akanishi Kakita /赤西蠣太 aka Capricious Young Man (1936)

Obscure Japanese Film #77

Chiezo Kataoka

The year is 1671. Akanishi Kakita (Chiezo Kataoka) is a low-ranking samurai retainer described in the following way in Naoya Shiga’s original story: ‘His features were of the so-called ugly man type, and he had an uncouth accent. In every respect, he seemed the typical back-country samurai.’ He also likes to play shogi (Japanese chess) on his own and prefers eating sweets to drinking saké. These quirks, together with his unremarkable appearance, mean that his fellow samurai view him as a no-account oddball. However, his apparent defects serve him well as he is the last person anyone would suspect of being a spy – which is what he actually is. Though he apparently serves the daimyo Daté Hyobu (Michisaburo Segawa), his real master is the lord of Shiroishi, who has ordered him to infiltrate Hyobu’s household in order to gather information on the Daté clan’s intentions, especially those of their senior retainer, the evil-tempered Kai Harada (also played by Chiezo Kataoka), as they suspect Harada of planning an attack.*

 

Kataoka as Kai Harada

At one point, Kakita’s mission is endangered when he falls ill, suffering from severe stomach pain, which he believes is caused by his intestines having become twisted into a knot. He slices his own stomach open, unravels his guts, and sews himself back up again (this occurs off-screen for some reason). Having recovered a few days later, he then faces another problem – he needs to return to his real master to deliver his report, but how can he quit the Daté household without arousing suspicion? At the suggestion of his friend and fellow spy, Masujiro (Kensaku Hara), he writes a love letter to a beautiful young woman, Sazanami (Mineko Mori). When she rejects him, his apparent embarrassment will provide a plausible reason for his abrupt departure. However, she turns out to be a perceptive woman who has noticed his finer qualities… 

Akanishi Kakita is based on a 1917 short story of the same name by Naoya Shiga (1883-1971), a major literary figure in Japan. The story can be found in English translation in The Paper Door and Other Stories; as it’s only 17 pages long, writer-director Mansaku Itami (1900-1946) had to add some material in order to create a feature-length movie. Itami was the mentor to the great screenwriter Shinobu Hashimoto. In his book Compound Cinematics: Akira Kurosawa and I, Hashimoto paints a picture of Itami as a remarkable cinematic talent whose career was cut short when he contracted tuberculosis, which eventually led to his early death. Intriguingly, Mansaku Itami was also the father of another ill-fated director, Juzo Itami (1933-1997).

Mansaku Itami made his debut as director in 1928 and directed 22 films, only six of which survive in more or less complete form. These include Atarashiki tsuchi (The Samurai’s Daughter, 1937), a German-Japanese co-production co-directed by Arnold Fanck, and Kyojinden (The Giant, 1938), a version of Les Misérables and his last film as director. He also wrote the screenplay for Hiroshi Inagaki’s The Life of Matsu the Untamed (1943), remade several times, most notably by Inagaki himself as The Rickshaw Man (1958), starring Toshiro Mifune and Hideko Takamine. 

The young Takashi Shimura

 

I’m not quite sure that Akanishi Kakita holds up as a forgotten masterpiece. The film is not very well-paced, and the use of western-style music for the soundtrack feels out of place at times, although it should be remembered that Japan had only just abandoned the silent film in 1936. However, there is some occasionally striking camerawork, such as the overhead shot of the two samurai walking in the rain with umbrellas at the beginning and a later tracking shot of a line of samurai sitting down in the seiza position. Itami also makes excellent use of repetition for comic effect when Kakita and his neighbour, a fellow retainer (Takashi Shimura) go back and forth trying to get rid of a noisy cat that’s keeping them both awake, and in a later scene when a senior samurai keeps bribing his servant with saké to go out in foul weather to gather information. These scenes are not present in the original, nor is the scene in which Kakita disguises himself as a monk in order to give his pursuers the slip, and  they show real inventiveness on the part of Itami while being perfectly in keeping with the comic tone of the original story. No wonder, then, that Naoya Shiga himself was pleased when he saw the final film.  

 

The star of this film, Chiezo Kataoka (1903-83), is best-remembered for his leading roles in 13 Assassins (1963) and two Tomu Uchida films, Bloody Spear at Mount Fuji (1955) and Hero of the Red Light District, aka A Killing in Yoshiwara (1960). Kataoka was clearly an extremely versatile actor, and he’s so good in his two opposing roles here that you could easily watch this film and not realise that it’s the same man playing Kakita and Harada, and not just because he’s made up with bushy eyebrows and pimple on his nose as Kakita – the voices of the two characters are also entirely different. 

Akanishi Kakita was named by Akira Kurosawa as one of his favourite films and later remade for television from Itami’s original script by Kon Ichikawa, who had worked as an assistant director to Itami as a young man. 

The print I saw looks like a VHS transfer and there are missing frames in one scene where intertitles have been used to fill in the gaps. It’s not great quality, although it does improve as the film goes on. However, surely Akanishi Kakita has sufficient cultural value to be worth a proper restoration. Why anyone thought it necessary to give this film the English title of Capricious Young Man is something of a mystery though.

*Kai Harada was later portrayed sympathetically by Tatsuya Nakadai in The Fir Tree Remains.