Sanmon yakusha / 三文役者 (‘Third-Rate Actor’, 2000)

Obscure Japanese Film #257

Taiji Tonoyama

This late film by the prolific writer-director Kaneto Shindo (best known for his 1964 picture, Onibaba) tells the story of Taiji Tonoyama, an actor who appeared in most of Shindo’s films before his death at the age of 73 in 1989. Tonoyama was a short, prematurely bald Yoda lookalike with sad, baggy eyes, so he was usually to be found among the supporting casts of the many films he appeared in, in roles of various sizes – the only leading roles played by him that I’m aware of were in two Shindo films: The Naked Island (1960) and the previously-reviewed Libido (1967).

Naoto Takenaka

Shindo recreates scenes from the actor’s life with Naoto Takenaka as Tonoyama, placing the focus on his relationships with his first wife, Asako (Hideko Yoshida), and second wife, Kimie (Keiko Oginome), whom he meets when he is 36 and still married to Asako and Kimie is 17 and working as a waitress. Tonoyama was an unlikely womaniser and we also see him picking up various barmaids with apparent ease while simultaneously fighting a lifelong battle with the demon drink. Shindo intersperses these dramatisations with scenes from the films they made together and a straight-to-camera interview with Nobuko Otowa, Shindo’s mistress and eventual wife who frequently acted alongside Tonoyama (Otowa died in 1994, so Shindo must have been sitting on this for at least 6 years). Towards the end, there is also some very brief interview footage with fellow directors Shohei Imamura, Hiromichi Horikawa and Seijiro Koyama.

Nobuko Otowa

Shindo had already written a book about Tonoyama, who had also written a number of books himself, notably a 1966 volume whose title translates as The Irresponsible Ramblings of a Third-Rate Actor (unsurprisingly, these have not made it into English).While I’ve long been a fan of Tonoyama myself, I’m not really sure that Shindo has done his memory a lot of favours by making this film. Although Naoto Takenaka’s performance seems a pretty good Tonoyama impression for the first couple of minutes, he goes on to deliver every line with exactly the same throaty, drawn-out intonation, and it gets old fast. The film is also way too long at over two hours – a one-hour documentary would have been far more preferable in my view, especially as the end result feels so superficial and sentimental, with the repetitive piano and violin music-by-numbers score delivering the coup de grâce to what is easily the weakest Shindo film I’ve seen.

Keiko Oginome

A note on the title:

The film is frequently listed as ‘By Player’ in English, but I’m sure this was never an official release title. It’s also meaningless, and I can only assume that somebody somewhere came up with ‘bit player’ as a translation for ‘sanmon yakusha’ and somehow managed to confuse ‘bit’ with ‘by’.

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)

English subtitles at Open Subtitles

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The Last Judgment / 最後の審判 / Saigo no shinpan (1965)

Obscure Japanese Film #250

Tatsuya Nakadai

Masao Mishima

Jiro (Tatsuya Nakadai), the manager of a pool hall owned by Asai (Masao Mishima), has been having an affair with Masako (Chikage Awashima) since her wealthy engineer husband went to oversee a construction project in Vietnam two years earlier. The husband in question, Riichiro (Fujio Suga), also happens to be Jiro’s cousin. When he returns from abroad, it becomes very difficult for the lovers to continue meeting, especially as Riichiro is not only a jealous and suspicious type, but has a short fuse to boot.

Fujio Suga

Jitsuko Yoshimura

Meanwhile, Asai wants to sell the pool hall and Jiro wants to buy it but lacks the funds. He also has little time to find them as the local yakuza want to buy the place, but then he thinks of a clever solution to his problems. This will involve both seducing a waitress, Miyoko (Onibaba’s Jitsuko Yoshimura), and getting Riichiro to use his explosive temper against himself. But will Jiro be able to stay one step ahead of dogged police detective Kikuchi? (This latter is played by Junzaburo Ban, who played a similar character in the same year’s A Fugitive from the Past.)

Junzaburo Ban

This Toho production was based on the 1949 novel Heaven Ran Last by William P. McGivern (1918-82), who also wrote the novels on which Fritz Lang’s The Big Heat (1953) and Robert Wise’s Odds Against Tomorrow (1959) were based. Heaven Ran Last, though, was never filmed by Hollywood and, like Kurosawa basing High and Low (1963) on Ed McBain’s novel King’s Ransom, it’s an indication of how much American pulp was being translated into Japanese in the post-war years that it came to the attention of director Hiromichi Horikawa. In this case, apart from transferring the story from America to Japan, screenwriters Zenzo Matsuyama and Ichiro Ikeda have stuck pretty closely to the book – too closely, perhaps, according to some Japanese reviewers who have commented that the characters don’t behave like Japanese people. In any case, I found it to be one of the better plots I’ve seen in this type of film as the twists don’t become too far-fetched, as is so often the case.

Chikage Awashima

Several of the same talents from Horikawa’s excellent 1963 noir Shiro to kuro (‘White and Black’, aka Pressure of Guilt) returned for this one, including Japan’s top film composer Toru Takemitsu as well as cast members Chikage Awashima, Masao Mishima, Eijiro Tono and, of course, star Tatsuya Nakadai. The Last Judgment makes an excellent vehicle for Nakadai, who looks very cool driving around in an MG Roadster in his shades and fur-lined jacket and is obviously having a field day being very bad indeed. However, Jiro is saved from becoming a one-dimensional villain not only by Nakadai’s charismatic performance but the fact that his love for Masako, at least, does seem to be genuine.

One of the great things about Takemitsu as a composer was that he knew when to shut up, an all-too-rare talent which is well in evidence here, while Horikawa makes excellent use of industrial noises to heighten the tension in a number of scenes. Another plus is the dark, shadowy cinematography of Tokuzo Kuroda. All in all, The Last Judgment is a very satisfying noir that has been kept in the dark for far too long.

Thanks to A.K.

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Brand of Evil / 悪の紋章 / Aku no monsho (1964)

Obscure Japanese Film #229

Tsutomu Yamazaki

 

Kikuchi (Tsutomu Yamazaki, the kidnapper from High and Low) is a police detective investigating the murder of a young woman. The trail leads to company boss Shibata (Rokko Toura), but he suddenly finds himself falsely accused of accepting bribes from a drug dealer and is kicked out of the police force and sent to prison for two years. After his release, he manages to find work with a private detective agency on condition that he drops any notion of trying to clear his name. He agrees, then promptly sets about trying to clear his name, during the course of which he finds himself involved with Setsuko (Michiyo Aratama), a young woman he sees falling victim to a pickpocket on the subway…

 

Michiyo Aratama

This co-production between Toho and Takarazuka Eiga was based on a 1962 novel of the same name by Shinobu Hashimoto, who co-wrote the screenplay with Sakae Hirosawa and the director, Hiromichi Horikawa. Horikawa and Hashimoto had previously collaborated on The Lost Alibi (1960) and Shiro to kuro (1963), two similarly dark and twisty crime thrillers, and both had begun their film careers under the tutelage of Kurosawa. The master’s influence is apparent here in the way certain scenes are shot and the use of weather to heighten atmosphere. In fact, the moody high-contrast cinematography comes courtesy of Yuzuru Aizawa, who had shot The Bad Sleep Well (1960). Another asset is a strong jazz score by one of Japan’s top composers, Toshiro Mayuzumi, while the excellent cast also includes Kyoko ‘Woman in the Dunes’ Kishida, Keiji Sada and, wasted in a tiny role as the head of the detective agency, Takashi Shimura. 

 

Hashimoto’s view of the world tended towards the misanthropic, and none of the characters in Brand of Evil are terribly nice. In fact, one of the most memorable scenes involves the supposed hero torturing a hapless yakuza stooge to the strains of a Strauss waltz (‘Rosen aus dem Süden’), which reminded me of the way Tarantino used ‘Stuck in the Middle with You’ in Reservoir Dogs, although Tarantino certainly took it to another level. 

 

Keiji Sada and Tsutomu Yamazaki

In my view, the film is slightly less effective than The Lost Alibi or Shiro to kuro because the combination of the lack of a sympathetic protagonist combined with a rather convoluted plot and slightly excessive running time of around two hours and eleven minutes makes it hard to feel emotionally invested in the story all the way to the end. It’s also hard to forgive the demeaning portrayal of a disabled character, Setsuko’s friend Tsuyako, played by Toshiko Yabuki. 

 

Rokko Toura

 

The Alaska Story / アラスカ物語 / Arasuka monogatari (1977)

Obscure Japanese Film #228

Kinya Kitaoji

This Toho production was based on a 1974 novel* by Jiro Nitta (1912-80), who also supplied the source material for the previously-reviewed Mount Hakkoda, another big movie shot on rugged locations and released the same year. Nitta’s novel was itself based on the life of Frank Yasuda (1868-1958), sometimes dubbed the ‘Japanese Moses.’ Yasuda emigrated to the USA as a young man and served on the USS Bear, a coast guard vessel which became entrapped in ice off the coast of Alaska in 1893. Sent to get help, he walked a vast distance before eventually collapsing, then was rescued by some Inuit in the nick of time. They sent a party to the aid of his shipmates, but Yasuda decided to remain with the Inuit and was taken under the wing of a man named Amaohka, who taught him whaling and hunting. Yasuda ended up marrying Amaohka’s daughter, Nebiro. However, when food became scarce in the area, Yasuda hooked up with Thomas Carter, an American gold prospector, hoping to strike it rich and make enough to lead his adoptive people to a better land (hence the ‘Japanese Moses’ moniker)…

Kyoko Mitsubayashi

Adapted for the screen by Masato Ide (known for his work with Kurosawa), the film follows Yasuda’s story quite closely, but throws in some fictional scenes to spice up the drama, such as the rather absurd but highly entertaining one in which a pack of wolves try to break into Yasuda’s cabin while his wife’s trying to give birth. There was an opportunity to make a more thoughtful, serious film here, but what we get is a disappointingly superficial entertainment. The director, Hiromichi Horikawa, was a former assistant to Kurosawa who made at least two very good films, The Lost Alibi (1960) and Shiro to kuro (1963), but failed to live up to that early promise.

Joe Shishido

Having said that, The Alaska Story was by no means a chore to sit through and remains worth a look for its breathtaking locations shot by cinematographer Kozo Okazaki, who worked with many of Japan’s top directors. Masaru Sato’s elaborate score is also inspired at times. Leading man Kinya Kitaoji was likely cast for his physical toughness and endurance rather than acting ability, but he’s adequate anyway. The only other Japanese character is played by Joe Shishido, who steals the show here as the forthright George Oshima, Yasuda’s real-life friend, who seems to have been a sort of wandering lone adventurer. Other well-known Japanese actors appear as Inuit, including Eiji Okada as Amaohka, Kyoko Mitsubayashi as Nebiro, and Hideo Gosha favourite Isao Natsuyagi, while Tetsuro Tanba pops up as a Native American chief – and I must say he does look the part! But the real star of this film is nature herself.

Tetsuro Tanba

As usual with Japanese films featuring Western characters (of which there are quite a few), the director appears to have just grabbed the nearest Westerners to fill these roles regardless of acting ability or experience, and they’re mostly terrible. The one honourable exception is William Ross, who plays Tom Carter, and is quite decent. Ross was an American who emigrated to Japan and found work in the film industry in many capacities, but basically whenever a gaijin was needed.

William Ross

Those who enjoy tales of real-life adventure may well enjoy this film, but a word of warning for animal-lovers – it looks like Kitaoji killed a seal for real in one scene, and there’s also a sequence featuring a whale hunt which I don’t think was faked. As the British Board of Film Censors prohibits such scenes, I suspect that this is the reason why the film has had no UK release that I know of.

* An English translation was published in 1980 as An Alaskan Tale

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Kokosu sezu / 告訴せず / (‘No Charges Filed’, aka ‘Without Complaint’, 1975)

Obscure Japanese Film #172

Kyoko Enami and Yukio Aoshima

 

Kitani (Fumio Watanabe) is a conservative politician running for re-election with the help of his sister-in-law, Haruko (Kirin Kiki), and adviser, Mitsuoka (Ko Nishimura).  When they need someone to go to Tokyo in order to collect 30 million yen in cash for bribery purposes, Kitani’s brother (i.e. Haruko’s husband), seems the perfect choice. He is Shogo (Yukio Aoshima), a schmuck who works as a chef and does whatever his wife tells him. However, he’s also a big fan of crime fiction, and after picking up the cash he immediately absconds with it, hiding out at a hot spring inn where he hooks up with one of the maids, Shino (Kyoko Enami)…

 

Fumio Watanabe

 

Based on an untranslated 1973 novel of the same name by prolific crime writer Seicho Matsumoto, this co-production between Toho and their affiliate, Geiensha, treats the material like a comedy, although it’s seldom very funny. The casting of Yukio Aoshima in the lead and the way he plays the role suggested to me that director Hiromichi Horikawa was looking for a new Keiju Kobayashi, who had starred in many of his earlier films. However, as this film revolves partly around the world of politics and takes a swipe at the way that elections are influenced by money, it’s also possible that Aoshima was cast due to his other career – he had actually entered politics as a Member of the House of Councillors in 1968 and, in 1971, “criticised the large amount of political donations made to the ruling Liberal Democratic Party by the business community” (Japanese Wikipedia). He eventually became Governor of Tokyo from 1995 until 1999, when he lost out to another celebrity politician, Shintaro Ishihara. Like Ishihara, he also dabbled in many different fields, being at various times a screenwriter, lyricist, TV personality, novelist, singer and even film director. His independent 1966 film Kane (The Bell), which he wrote, produced, directed and starred in, screened at Cannes, but sounds like a terribly self-indulgent affair – IMDb offers the following synopsis: “Yukio Aoshima and several of his friends go to the seashore for a weekend, and Yukio films them as they enjoy the sand, the surf, and each other.” (Don’t think I’ll be rushing to seek that one out…) In any case, he’d never been called on to carry a movie before, and on this evidence it’s not hard to see why, as he’s clearly nobody’s idea of a leading man and lacks Keiju Kobayashi’s subtlety and range as well. 

 

The obligatory Eitaro Ozawa appearance

 

One of the more interesting aspects of the film is that it features something called a futomani ritual, which I'd never heard of before. It’s a Shinto method of divination in which the shoulder-blade of a stag is heated over a fire until it cracks, at which point the pattern of the cracks is interpreted for fortune-telling purposes. Incidentally, in the film this is performed by a priest played by Jun Hamamura, who looks almost healthy for once. 

 

Jun Hamamura

 

Overall, though, this film just doesn’t really know what it wants to be. A sequence featuring some weird freeze frames around halfway through does not help and made me think there was a technical fault at first. And if it was supposed to be a comedy – which seems to have been the intention – you have to wonder why on earth they would choose to go with the ending this film is lumbered with. It’s an acceptable time-passer, sure, but on the whole I’d have to call it a misfire. 

 

 

The Blue Beast / 青い野獣 / Aoi yaju (1960)

Obscure Japanese Film #140

Tatsuya Nakadai

Yasuhiko Kuroki (Tatsuya Nakadai) is an ambitious young man working for a magazine publishing company run by Ogawa (Jun Tazaki). When a pay dispute breaks out, the union calls a strike and Kuroki serves as a spokesman for the workers. However, he’s actually a mole working for the management, who are paying him in exchange for inside information. 

Ichiro Nakatani

 

Keiko Awaji

Going for a drink with fellow union member Goda (Ichiro Nakatani), Kuroki is surprised to find his old flame from his student days, Yoshie (Keiko Awaji), working at the bar. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other for 6 years and their former passion is soon rekindled, but Kuroki is unaware that Goda has become suspicious and asked Yoshie to keep an eye on him. 

Yatsuko Tan'ami

 

Meanwhile, Kuroki has been having an affair with Ogawa’s wife, Yoriko (Yatsuko Tan’ami), whom he was hired to tutor part-time while still a student. She had used her influence on her husband to get Kuroki his job, but now she’s just in his way, so he breaks it off by telling her in brutal fashion that she’s too old to be attractive any longer. 

Yoko Tsukasa

 

Koreya Senda

Kuroki next sets his sights on Fumiko (Yoko Tsukasa), the daughter of powerful financier Eto (played by Nakadai’s real-life mentor, Koreya Senda). He knows that if he can get Fumiko to marry him, he’ll be made for life… 

Keiko Awaji and Nakadai

 

Yasuhiko Kuroki is an amoral social climber in the tradition of Stendhal’s Julien Sorel in his 1830 novel The Red and the Black, Dreiser’s Clyde Griffiths in An American Tragedy (upon which the 1951 film A Place in the Sun starring Montgomery Clift was based), and especially John Braine’s Joe Lampton in Room at the Top, filmed in 1958 with Laurence Harvey as Joe. That film was released in Japan in July of 1959, and very likely inspired this one as the similarities are obvious, although the two films end quite differently.

 

The Blue Beast, a Toho production, was written by Yoshio Shirasaka, who wrote a number of films for Yasuzo Masumura, but – more significantly – had also written the screenplay for  The Beast Must Die (1959), in which Nakadai had starred as a similar (though more deadly) antihero. Although the ending of that film seemed to leave things wide open for a sequel, it also called for location shooting in a foreign country, which is probably why it never happened. I’m unsure of the significance of the colour blue, but it seems highly likely that the inclusion of the word ‘beast’ in the title here was intended to tell audiences that this was their opportunity to see Nakadai being... well, 'beastly' again (especially to women).

 

For Nakadai, this was the first of four collaborations with director Hiromichi Horikawa, but it’s not as good as the other one I’ve seen, Shiro to kuro (1963), and it’s also less interesting than The Beast Must Die. It feels rather oddly lacking dramatically, partly because it unfolds all too predictably, but also because – unlike Julien Sorel, Clyde Griffiths and Joe Lampton – Yasuhiko Kuroki lacks anything resembling a sympathetic side. He’s a pretty one-dimensional character, really, and that’s also probably why Nakadai’s not at the top of his game here. Sei Ikeno’s soundtrack, which prominently features the vibraphone and recalls the Modern Jazz Quartet, may also have been too mellow a choice for this type of drama. 

 Thanks to A.K.