Thursday 29 August 2024

The Time of Reckoning / 不信のとき / Fushin no toki (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #128

Jiro Tamiya and Ayako Wakao

Asai (Jiro Tamiya) is an artist who designs advertising posters for a printing company owned by Koyonagi (Masao Mishima). As a loyal subordinate, Asai sometimes accompanies his boss on his frequent excursions to the red light district. On one such occasion, Koyonagi becomes smitten with a naïve young newcomer, Mayumi (Mariko Kaga), and decides not only to make her his mistress but to persuade her to have his baby. Unfortunately, Mayumi turns out to be not only stupid and vulgar but stubborn and wilful to boot. Meanwhile, Asai becomes involved with bar hostess Machiko (Ayako Wakao), who knows that he is married but wants to have his baby and promises not to be a homewrecker. Asai’s wife is Michiko (Mariko Okada), a calligraphy teacher who appears unable to have children herself. Asai begins to find it increasingly complicated to continue satisfying the diverging demands of his job, his wife and his mistress…


Mariko Okada

The director of this film, Tadashi Imai, was one of Japan’s most critically-acclaimed film directors. However, after making Revenge in 1964, his opportunities to helm feature films dried up for a while as the industry as a whole was suffering an economic downturn, mainly due to so many people having recently bought TV sets, initially to watch the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. As a result, Imai spent a couple of years making television dramas before returning to film work by directing the Ayako Wakao vehicle When the Sugar Candy Breaks (1967) for Daiei. Wakao herself had recently had a success with The Wife of Seishu Hanaoka (1967), based – like The Time of Reckoning – on a novel by Sawako Ariyoshi, while her co-star in this picture, Mariko Okada, had previously scored a hit with another film based on an Ariyoshi novel, The Scent of Incense (1964) and also been successfully teamed (or pitted against) Wakao in Two Wives (1967). The Time of Reckoning, then, exists not as a project initiated by Imai, but as a vehicle for Daiei’s stars, Wakao and Okada, as well as Jiro Tamiya and Mariko Kaga. Personally, I detected little trace of the earlier Imai in this film, which he seems to have approached purely as a job of work – it looks in every respect like a typical Daiei drama which could have been made by any one of their stable of directors.



This is the film which got Jiro Tamiya not only fired by Daiei, but blacklisted by the film industry when he had the temerity to complain about his billing below the three female stars despite the fact that he was clearly playing the lead role. This over-the-top reaction by the studio seems almost feudalistic, and I doubt they did themselves any favours as they lost not only a talented actor, but a popular film star. Tamiya’s character in this film is actually less of a scheming shit than those he often played – indeed, it’s hard not to feel some sympathy for him here despite the fact that he’s no saint. 

 

Mariko Okada

For her part, Mariko Okada is excellent as usual, but makes slightly less of an impact than the other two female stars simply because her role gives her fewer opportunities.

 

Masao Mishima and Mariko Kaga

The other Mariko, Mariko Kaga, is pretty funny playing a brainless bimbo who nevertheless has a mind of her own (an oxymoron with the emphasis on ‘moron’?), but it’s Wakao who really shines here. Although her character is for the most part quite placid, there are a couple of scenes in which she becomes emotional where you can see that Wakao is not merely ‘acting’, she’s really feeling it, as you can tell by the fact that you can even see her face visibly colouring at one point. 


 

Perhaps that’s the main reason why she won the 1969 Kinema Jumpo Award for Best Actress for this film, House of Wooden Blocks and One Day at Summer’s End. I should also mention that there’s a nice cameo from the Woman in the Dunes herself, Kyoko Kishida.


Kyoko Kishida

With an easy listening jazz muzak score and an absence of any major tragedies, the tone of the film leans more towards comedy than drama, although it’s seldom laugh-out-loud funny.  Instead, it opts for a similar gentle irony to that of the recently-reviewed Furin, another film in which the women get the better of a man who thinks he’s got his two-timing arranged perfectly. Things get pretty complicated and confusing towards the end and then the film finishes with an odd little non-ending (that I actually rather liked). It’s quite an enjoyable journey, but this is one film that will be best appreciated by fans of the stars rather than the director.

Mariko Kaga

 

Bonus trivia: There have been four TV versions, including a 1968 one with Keiju Kobayashi in the Tamiya role and a 1984 one with Mariko Kaga switching roles to play Michiko. There was also a 1969 stage version starring Keiju Kobayashi in which Mariko Okada switched roles to play Machiko.

Note on the title: The Japanese title translates more accurately as ‘Time of Distrust.’

Thanks to A.K.

Sunday 25 August 2024

A Town Not on the Map / 地図のない町 / Chizu no mai machi (aka ‘The Jungle Block’, 1960)

Obscure Japanese Film #127

Yoko Minamida

Ryoji Hayama

 

Jukichi Uno

Osamu Takizawa

 

There’s a lot going on in this Nikkatsu picture, which starts out almost like one of Satsuo Yamamoto’s leftist dramas in which an oppressed community band together to take on their corrupt oppressors, but morphs into a Seicho Matsumoto-style murder mystery at the end. Based on a story by Kaoru Funayama,* it was adapted by director Ko Nakahira and regular Kurosawa collaborator Shinobu Hashimoto. In the film, the story unfolds in a series of consecutive flashbacks (probably Hashimoto’s idea). This is an unusual approach, but one that works well in this instance, with the tension building nicely as events reach their climax. When they do, there is perhaps a twist too many, with the result that things become a little absurd – almost comic, in fact (something I doubt was intended).

Shobun Inoue
 

A Town Not on the Map benefits from a strong all-round cast. In the lead, Nikkatsu contract star Ryoji Hayama makes for a sympathetic hero despite being better known for playing bad guys, while the underrated Yoko Minamida is equally good as the troubled cat-loving heroine, Osamu Takizawa makes a suitably loathsome villain, Jukichi Uno exudes integrity as only he could, Shobun Inoue is convincingly tough as a scar-faced yakuza, and Jun Hamamura manages to look even more like death warmed up than usual. 

 

Jun Hamamura

The score by the great avant-garde composer Toshiro Mayuzumi is surprisingly conventional for him, but nonetheless highly effective. Director Ko Nakahira brings his customary flair to the proceedings, with impressive staging and camerawork (by his regular collaborator Yoshihiro Yamazaki) which is seldom pedestrian and often memorably stylish. 

Yoko Minamida

 

Excellent subtitles by Stuart J Walton can be found here: https://www.opensubtitles.org/en/subtitles/9880312/the-jungle-block-en

*The original story, ‘Satsui no kage’ / 殺意の影 (‘Shadows of Murder’), appeared in Funayama’s 1957 collection Akutoku /悪徳 (Vice).