Showing posts with label Etsushi Takahashi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Etsushi Takahashi. Show all posts

Sunday, 20 July 2025

Ai no kaseki / 愛の化石 (‘Fossil of Love’, 1970)

 

Ruriko Asaoka


Yuki (Ruriko Asaoka) is a textile designer who has studied in Europe and become a big success on her return to Japan. It probably doesn’t hurt that she looks more like a model than a designer and seems to have an inexhaustible supply of à la mode outfits. Perhaps that’s why magazine journalist Junko (Mayumi Nagisa) thinks she’d make a good subject for an article and assigns her hotshot photographer boyfriend Hibino (Etsushi Takahashi) to do the pictures. 

 

Mayumi Nagisa

 
Etsushi Takahashi

However, Yuki is extremely reticent about her private life and something of a control freak, so she makes Hibino promise that they won’t use any photos she dislikes. Having a high opinion of himself, he’s a little insulted by this, but reluctantly agrees, all the time wondering why he’s been given such an assignment. He has ambitions as a serious photojournalist and has covered the conflict in Biafra, a place he intends to head back to as soon as he gets a chance. He gradually learns that Yuki is in the process of getting over a relationship with a man (whom we never see), and there also seems to be something between her and magazine boss Harada (Jiro Tamiya), but he can’t help being drawn to her despite himself…

 

Jiro Tamiya

 

In 1969, the star of this film, Ruriko Asaoka, had a hit single with a song entitled ‘Ai no kaseki’, which you can listen to on YouTube here. Needless to say, this film made to capitalise on that success has precious little connection with the song, other than the vague theme of yearning for a lost love. Although we don’t hear Asaoka sing it during the course of the movie, an instrumental version plays out over the opening credits and the melody recurs at various point throughout. 

 


 

Director Yoshihiko Okamoto (1925-2004), who co-wrote the film with Koichi Suzuki, had a background in socially-conscious TV dramas such as Shinobu Hashimoto’s I Want to Be a Shellfish (1958), for which he had won an award (and which Hashimoto himself would remake for the cinema the following year). Ai no kaseki is the second of just three feature films by Okamoto, following Tsugaru zessho (‘Tsugaru song’, 1970) and preceding Seishun no umi (‘The Sea of Youth’, 1974). In terms of direction, it’s pretty good, and very well-shot mostly (if not entirely) on location by cinematographer Yuji Okumura, who was director Yoshishige Yoshida’s regular cameraman during this period. 

 

Asaoka and Takahashi

 

The problem with Ai no kaseki is the story, which – as one might expect from a film inspired by a pop ballad – is simply too thin and not terribly interesting; it literally goes nowhere. There’s a lot of then-topical talk about Biafra, an eastern region of Nigeria which had seceded from the country in 1967, sparking a civil war which lasted two and a half years, after which it was reintegrated into Nigeria. Around one million people were said to have died as a result of the conflict, many from starvation. Perhaps Okamoto sincerely wanted to draw people’s attention to this, but, if so, having his privileged characters express their concerns about it in this type of film may not have been the best way, and, unfortunately, the issue of whether Hibino really cares about Biafra or just sees it as a means to win awards is never really explored. 

 


 

In terms of the cast, Jiro Tamiya is wasted in a role which gives him little to do and Etsushi Takahashi was a limited actor better suited to action roles. Ruriko Asaoka is fine as usual, but it’s not enough to save this one – not unless seeing her in an endless parade of trendy outfits is enough for you, that is.

The film was produced by Yujiro Ishihara’s company – who had Asaoka under contract at the time – and distributed by Nikkatsu.

Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)

Thanks to A.K. 


 


Saturday, 13 May 2023

Wild Detective / Outlaw Cop / やさぐれ刑事 / Yasagure keiji (1976)

Obscure Japanese Film #58

 

Yoshio Harada
 

Based on a 1975 novel of the same name by Giichi Fujimoto (1933-2012), this Shochiku production stars an impressively-sideburned Yoshio Harada as Nishino, a police detective based in Hokkaido’s capital, Sapporo. When he learns that members of an Osaka-based yakuza gang, the Jumonji-gumi, are flying in to organise a drug-trafficking network with the local mob, he goes to the airport to check them out and discovers that their leader is none other than Sugitani (Etsushi Takahashi), a criminal he had arrested and sent to prison seven years earlier. Naturally, there’s no love lost between these two and Nishino also wants to prevent the gang establishing themselves on his turf, so he and his colleagues begin harassing them at every opportunity. Sugitani decides he’s not going to take this lying down, so he poses as a car salesman and seduces Nishino’s wife, Maho (Naoko Otani). This proves to be easy as Nishino is so wrapped up in his job that he pays her little attention. Sugitani even talks her into running away with him and, by the time she learns his true identity and motivation, they’re already on a boat speeding away from Hokkaido to Honshu and there’s no going back. When Nishino learns about this, he’s so incensed that he decks a colleague, quits the force and goes after Sugitano, tracking him first to Aomori, where he discovers that Maho has been forced into prostitution. Maho becomes her husband’s spy, feeding him information about Sugitano’s movements, but Nishino will have to pursue his enemy to the other end of the country before he finally catches up with him.

Naoko Otani
 

Yusuke Watanabe was a prolific director and screenwriter who directed 64 films and numerous television dramas between 1957 and his death in 1985 at the age of 58. He led a rather schizophrenic career, pioneering Toei’s early ventures into eroticism as a means to compete with TV with films like Two Bitches (1964), later making a series of movie vehicles for pop band The Drifters as well as comedies, dramas and seemingly just about everything else, including episodes of Monkey (1978-80). While little of Watanabe's work is accessible outside Japan, at least with subtitles, he has done a good job here on the whole and keeps things moving at a relentlessly fast pace. The film is also well-shot, mostly on location, by Keiji Maruyama, and features an effective music score by Hajime Kaburagi. 

Etsushi Takahashi
 

Watanabe’s film has one of the longest pre-credits sequences I’ve ever seen – it’s not until 18 minutes in, after Nishino quits the force, that the main title suddenly pops up on the screen. Wild Detective also features one of the most unsympathetic ‘heroes’ I can recall in a film – Nishino treats his nice wife like a doormat and, although the fact that she leaves him is entirely his own fault, the first thing he does when they are reunited is to slap her around. In fact, there’s really nothing he does in the whole film which elicits any sympathy, so if you’re looking for a film with someone to root for, look elsewhere! 


Although Ken Takakura is listed among the cast credits on IMDb, he’s not in it. However, it was nice to see Hideji Otaki appear briefly as a shadowy Mr Big, as he also did for director Kei Kumai in both A Chain of Islands (1965) and Wilful Murder (1981).


Hideji Otaki



Friday, 7 October 2022

One Day at Summer's End / 濡れた二人 / Nureta futari (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #38

Ayako Wakao

In the 19th of her 20 films for director Yasuzo Masumura, Ayako Wakao stars as Mariko, the frustrated wife of Tetsuya (Etsushi Takahashi), a salaryman who works long hours and spends little time at home. They plan a holiday away together, but it’s no surprise to Mariko when he decides he simply can’t afford the time off. She decides to make a solo trip to a fishing village in Izu to stay with Katsue (Hiroko Machida), who used to work for her parents but is now married with two young children. Mariko has barely got off the bus before she has attracted the attention of the local stud, Shigeo (Kinya Kitaoji) as well as the enmity of the local good-time girl, Kyoe (Mayumi Nagisa).

Kinya Kitaoji dangles his lady-bait


Shigeo’s seduction technique is to fling a large dead fish at girls he likes – it works with Kyoe, so he tries it on Mariko too, but she seems less impressed. However, she begins to feel lonely and Shigeo is the only one paying her any attention, so she gives into him after he’s slapped her around a bit and kicked sand in her face. Unfortunately, just as she’s begun enjoying gallivanting around the village with Shigeo, her husband unexpectedly turns up.

Mayumi Nagisa

 

Having seen almost all of the Masmura-Wakao collaborations now, it’s hard not to feel that they should have called it a day after number 17 (The Wife of Seishu Hanaoka). The projects they worked on together after that are noticeably less ambitious, presumably because Daiei Studios was feeling the squeeze due to the increasing popularity of television in Japan at the time. One response to this was to make cheaper movies, while another was to provide content that TV could not – namely sex, violence and nudity. Both reactions are in evidence here. Wakao’s co-stars are less distinguished than usual and there’s little evidence of any significant amounts of money having been spent on the production. In fact, it all looks a bit cheap and hastily-shot, and further signs of desperation can be found in Mariko’s nude scenes, obviously achieved by means of a body double as her face is always conveniently obscured in these shots. One wonders whether Wakao even knew what they were up to. 

Etsushi Takahashi and Ayako Wakao

 

Wakao is really the only reason to watch this and gives her usual excellent performance.  Shigeo, with his greased-back hair, leather jacket and motorbike is so macho he seems absurd nowadays, especially as Kitaoji’s acting is nowhere near Wakao’s standard, at least at this stage in his career. Worse still, the film feels padded even at a slender 82 minutes, with Masumura having two very similar motorbike-race scenes close together, while a sequence in which Shigeo rides round and round Mariko and her husband at a bus stop in an effort to intimidate them goes on so long it becomes boring. While One Day at Summer’s End is not a terrible film, it’s not a good one either and I would probably rank it as the least of the Masmura-Wakao collaborations, although she does have a better role here than in some of the others.

Kitaoji and Wakao
  

The source of the simple story is a novel by Saho Sasazawa (1930-2002), a prolific writer of pulp mysteries who occasionally attempted something more serious; he also later played the heroine’s father in the bonkers horror comedy House (1977).

The Japanese title, Nureta futari, means 'The Two Who Got Wet', but ‘wet’ has a double meaning in Japan, so could equally be translated as ‘The Two Who Made Love.’