Kaei / 花影 / (‘The Shade of Blossoms’, 1961)

Obscure Japanese Film #194

Junko Ikeuchi

 

Yoko (Junko Ikeuchi) is an ageing Ginza bar hostess who has never been sufficiently calculating to hook a wealthy patron and get herself set up with her own bar or restaurant. Seeing little future for herself, she plans to commit suicide with pills she’s been saving up. As she prepares to do so, her story is told in flashback and we learn that she was adopted as a child and, as an adult, has had a series of disappointing relationships with a variety of men. These include university lecturer Matsuzaki (Ryo Ikebe), middle-aged lawyer Hata (Tadao Takashima), young TV producer Shimizu (Ichiro Arishima), and old-flame-made-good Nogata (Tatsuya Mitsuhashi). However, the only one she’s ever really loved is older art critic Takashima (Shuji Sano), as he’s the only one who’s never made a pass at her, but perhaps she’s idealised him too much…

 

Ikeuchi and Shuji Sano

 

Based on a prize-winning novel of the same name by Shohei Ooka – best known for Fires on the Plain – the story of this Tokyo Eiga production (distributed by Toho) was inspired by the life of Mutsuko Sakamoto (1915-58), a Ginza bar hostess with whom Ooka had had an eight-year-long affair before she committed suicide. The adaptation by Ryuzu Kikushima (one of Kurosawa’s regular collaborators) is extremely faithful to the book, which was translated into English as The Shade of Blossoms by Dennis Washburn and published in 1998 by the University of Michigan Press (the title refers to the shade under blossoming cherry or plum trees). Both film and novel have an almost shockingly sad ending without a trace of sentimentality, and director Yuzo Kawashima has done a fine job of bringing the story to life without imposing his own ego upon it. When he (or perhaps Kikushima) does add something – like Hata’s adopted daughter killing a worm in the garden after her father has thoughtlessly pointed out to Yoko that she’s not his by blood – it’s entirely appropriate and helps to illustrate the emotions of the characters. 

 

 

Yoko, a hostess who is weary of men, knows every seduction trick in the book only too well and seems in danger of sliding into alcoholism, is 38 years old in the novel, and would have been a perfect fit for Hideko Takamine, then 37. However, Tokyo Eiga went with the 28-year-old Junko Ikeuchi, whom they had just signed after her previous studio Shintoho had gone bankrupt. Although she’s a little young for the role, Ikeuchi could perhaps pass for a very well-preserved 38, but in any case she gives an excellent performance and manages to put Yoko’s complex emotions across very well. The remainder of the cast are left fighting for screen time as there are an unusually large number of important characters – indeed, it’s unusual to see Ryo Ikebe and Chikage Awashima in such small roles (Awashima plays the former mistress of Nogata’s deceased father). Sei Ikeno’s harpsichord-dominated score also adds a touch of class to the proceedings and never tries to manipulate our emotions in an obvious way. 

 

Tatsuya Mihashi, Ikeuchi and Chikage Awashima 

 

Shohei Ooka is on record as saying that Yukio Mishima was effusive in his praise of the book and that, after Mishima’s suicide, he felt convinced that it was this theme of Yoko wanting to end her own life while she was still beautiful that had appealed to him so much. 

 

Ryo Ikebe and Ikeuchi

Thanks to A.K.

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles) 

Why Did These Women Become Like This? / 何故彼女等はそうなったか / Naze kanojora wa so natta ka (aka Girls’ Reform School, 1956)

Obscure Japanese Film #163

Kyoko Kagawa and Masako Nakamura

This social conscience picture from Shintoho studios stars Kyoko Kagawa as Miss Oda, a kindly teacher at a reform school for wayward teenage girls that stands in the shadow of a castle. Among the girls are Hiroko (Masako Nakamura), a new arrival who comes from a wealthy family but has begun behaving badly after discovering that she was an illegitimate child; Yoneko (Akiko Mie), who is secretly pregnant; Tomiko (Konomi Fuji), whose good behaviour at the school sees her sent back home only to receive a cold reception from her stepmother (Wakako Kunitomo), causing her to run away again and end up back at the reformatory; and Chiyo (Junko Ikeuchi), who is in danger of being sold into prostitution to a brothel-keeper (Chieko Naniwa, who I’m sure has played this type of role in a number of films).

Chieko Naniwa

 

Somewhat surprisingly, the film was based on a 1952 novel by a male author, Toshihiko Takeda 1891-1961). However, he had some experience in these matters, having co-founded the Association for the Improvement of Children in 1947 and established an actual ‘Girls’ Home’ in 1949 in Muragame on the northern tip of Shikoku island. (Incidentally, Muragame does have a castle, although I’m uncertain if it’s the one we see in the film.)

 

Kyoko Kagawa

The supposed bad behaviour of the girls seems pretty mild today – this is not exactly a female Scum – but, then, writer-director Hiroshi Shimizu clearly wants us to view them with unreserved sympathy. The real bad behaviour is on the part of the uncaring parents, etc, who made them this way, and the unforgiving, self-righteous communities who deny them a second chance. The Japanese aphorism deri kugi wa utareru (‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down’) springs to mind here. 

 

Akiko Mie

The film certainly gets its message cross, but feels like fairly minor Shimizu. The religious-sounding choral music which sounds as if it has come from a corny Hollywood Christmas movie has not dated well, and the film misses a trick in failing to provide Miss Oda with any backstory, though Kyoko Kagawa gives her usual fine performance in a role similar to that which she played in the later picture The Human Wall (1959). The acting is pretty good across the board, in fact, though of the young actresses who play the girls only Junko Ikeuchi went on to stardom and sustained a long career.

Shimizu incorporates some symbolism into the film - the castle walls which form a backdrop for the opening credits suggest a safe place where the inhabitants are protected from the hostile world outside, while the girls' employment involves painting Okame masks, which represent a woman who brings good fortune to the man she marries. This is, of course, apt as the young women here are clearly hoping to emerge from the establishment with a more positive identity. 

Junko Ikeuchi and Masako Nakamura

 

Thanks to A.K.

Women and Miso Soup / 女と味噌汁 / Onna to misoshiru (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #139

Junko Ikeuchi

Chikako (Junko Ikeuchi) is a geisha who works under the name of Temari. Such an occupation gives her a very low social status, but she has managed to retain her self-respect, restricting herself to entertaining her customers and not sleeping with them as some do. However, though she never allows herself to indulge in self-pity, Chikako is not entirely satisfied with her lot and wants to become less dependent on the whims of men. As she always receives compliments for the miso soup she makes based on her grandmother’s recipe, she decides to start a small business selling the soup and accompaniments from a mobile van.

Kei Sato

 

Kunie Tanaka

Attending a class reunion, she reconnects with some old school friends: Murata (Kei Sato), a self-confident and apparently successful businessman; Ogawa (Kunei Tanaka), who makes a modest living carrying on his father’s occupation of making geta (traditional wooden sandals); and Kazuyo (Etsuko Ichihara), who has four children and another on the way and is forced to supplement her husband’s income by trying to sell life insurance on commission. 

Keizo Kawasaki

 

Murata and Ogawa both seem keen to be more than just friends with Chikako, but she’s more interested in Kiritani (Keizo Kawasaki), a salaryman she meets while working. However, this is a world in which even the nice guys shouldn’t be entirely trusted…

Aiko Nagayama

 

Another incident which complicates Chikako’s life is the unexpected arrival of a half-brother she didn’t know she had, Tomoichiro (Masakazu Tamura), who is studying to be a doctor. Chikako’s young friend and colleague Komomo (Aiko Nagayama) falls in love with him, but when Tomoichiro and Komomo begin talking of marriage, Chikako finds herself reacting with resentment at the idea of her brother marrying a lowly geisha. Having suffered from spending her own life in a society where the most important thing is what other people think of you, her kneejerk reaction is hypocritical, but – to her credit – she comes to realise this.

 

This Tokyo Eiga production was based on a 1965 novel by Yumie Hiraiwa which had already been successfully adapted for TV in a version which also starred Junko Ikeuchi and Aiko Nagayama in the same roles. Although Women and Miso Soup is the sort of character-driven comedy-drama that had largely disappeared from the big screen in Japan by 1968, and is also the last live-action feature film* by director Heinosuke Gosho (then 65), surprisingly it doesn’t feel like an 'old man’s movie' at all. Admittedly, there is one character, Ogawa’s father (Eijiro Tono), who complains about the ‘youth of today’ at some length but, while he may have a point in some of the things he says, he’s basically portrayed as a grumpy old git. In regard to the younger generation, Komomo and Chikako’s other young female friend, Kikuko (Akemi Kita), may initially seem vacuous, but the film softens its attitude towards them as it progresses. A scene which occurs late in the film has them dancing to rock music from a transistor radio at the beach as Chikako looks on and smiles approvingly, implying that this is a perfectly valid way to enjoy their time. While the film certainly celebrates the traditional aspects of Japanese life, other scenes show that the young are perfectly capable of appreciating these too if given the chance. 

 

Headed by Beast Alley’s Junko Ikeuchi and filled out mainly by members of the Haiyuza theatre company, the cast give strong performances all round and make the most of an intelligent script in which, refreshingly, scenes do not always play out in the way one might expect (e.g. the confrontation scene between Chikako and a certain character’s wife). And while this may not be a film to wow you with its camerawork particularly, Gosho’s co-ordination of his actors is impressive and shows that he still had a sure hand.

*Gosho made an animated feature film using puppets shortly after this one and later a half-hour documentary before passing away in 1981.