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. 

 

The Pit of Death / 怪談おとし穴 / Kaidan otoshiana (aka ‘The Ghostly Trap’, 1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #147

Mikio Narita

Kuramoto (Mikio Narita) is an ambitious salaryman working at a company based in a tower block said to be haunted by the ghost of a typist who went missing. He’s in a relationship with her replacement, Etsuko (Mayumi Nagisa), who wants to marry him, but he's also being pursued by the boss' daughter, Midori (Mako Sanjo), and he wants to ditch Etsuko and marry Midori so he can get an easy promotion. Etsuko won’t let him go so easily, however, so he begins scheming about ways to get rid of her…

Narita and Mayumi Nagisa

 

As played by Mikio Narita with a Spock-like haircut, Kuramoto seems an unlikely babe magnet. Japanese Wikipedia observes that this was his only leading role in a film, and it’s not hard to see why – most of the time here, he’s so wooden that he resembles a stick with a human face (though, having said that, it’s only fair to point out that he had a reputation for being excellent at playing nihilistic villains, mainly in yakuza films). Narita is also not helped by having to play opposite an actor as expressive as Mayumi Nagisa. 

 

The film was apparently released on a double bill with Satsuo Yamamoto’s Peony Lantern, so it’s a B-movie, but even so it looks as if the penny-pinching at the struggling Daiei studios was really starting to bite. The exterior scenes are mostly shot in too-bright sunlight, and many of the interior ones are lit by equally overpowering sunshine pouring in through a nearby window or by lamps which are part of the set. It’s almost as if director Koji Shima was told that they couldn’t afford those big, expensive movie lights anymore, so he’d have to make do without. 

Narita looks out at one of Koji Shima's trademark storms

 

Recycling elements from The Ghost of Yotsuya, the script is an original work by Kazuo Funahashi – who had an impressive track record – but the thin story feels stretched out even at 78 minutes. An example of this is when a confrontation scene between Kuramoto and Etsuko on the rooftop is virtually repeated again immediately after in the stationery cupboard. However, despite its obvious flaws, The Pit of Death manages some atmospheric and creepy scenes together with a couple of clever surprises. The highlight is probably the murder scene which takes place in the basement of the office building and is accompanied by a cacophonous score evoking the sound of clanking pipes. Speaking for myself, I had low expectations for this film, but was pleasantly surprised on the whole. The film's unusual office block setting, excellent jazz soundtrack (by Shima's regular collaborator Seitaro Omori) and black-and-white VistaVision cinematography together give it a unique feel for a film of this vintage. 

Director Koji Shima ended his career at Daiei with this film, then went to Hong Kong the following year and made a longer version of the story for the Shaw Brothers (entitled Luo shi hen, aka Dear Murderer). 

 

English subtitles courtesy of Coralsundy can be found here.

DVD at Amazon Japan.

Story of a Blind Woman /女めくら物語 / Onna mekura monogatari (1965)

Obscure Japanese Film #130

Ayako Wakao

This Daiei production stars Ayako Wakao as Tsuruko, an orphan who loses her sight at the age of 16 and has little choice but to work as a masseur (the traditional occupation for the blind in Japan). She goes to work for a small school / agency owned by Arifu* (played by Ganjiro Nakamura – always a red flag!), who is also blind, although some of his other masseurs have partial eyesight. They all live together and are called out to inns when requested by customers. 

Ken Utsui

 

One night, a troubled businessman named Kigoshi (Ken Utsui) saves Tsuruko first from a fall and then later from some drunks. She falls in love with him, but he disappears. Meanwhile, needing another masseur as they are often short-handed, Arifu is persuaded against his better judgment to hire Itoko (Mayumi Nagisa), who at first pretends to be blind in order to get the job. It soon becomes obvious that she’s just out to grab what she can and doesn’t care what she has to do to get it – as long as there’s no actual work involved, that is. It’s not long before Itoko has pissed off her colleagues so much that some of them quit in protest.

Mayumi Nagisa and Ganjiro Nakamura

 

When Tsuruko is again prevented from falling down some steps – this time by a young man passing in the street – she is reminded of Kigoshi, and so feels well-disposed towards him when it turns out that he’s looking for a job as a masseur. This apparent good Samaritan is Kenkichi (Junichiro Yamashita), who is blind in one eye. Tsuruko persuades Arifu to hire him, but unfortunately she lives to regret it…

Junichiro Yamashita

 

Based on a 1954 novel by Seiichi Funahashi** (who, ironically, went blind himself shortly after this film came out), Story of a Blind Woman felt rather contrived to me, with one credibility-stretching coincidence around halfway through and characters often seeming to act in the interests of the plot rather than their own best interests. However, Ayako Wakao makes for a very sympathetic tragic heroine and is quite convincing in her blindness. She mostly achieves this by avoiding eye contact with her fellow actors and by using her hands to feel her way along walls, etc (Ganjiro Nakamura uses the simpler method of just keeping his firmly eyes closed throughout, but of course this film would not have worked had we been unable to see Wakao’s eyes). 

 

Performances are decent all round, with Mayumi Nagisa especially effective as a person so smug in her selfishness that I’m sure even Mahatma Gandhi would cheerfully have throttled her with his bare hands given the chance. Nagisa also played the anti-Wakao character in One Day at Summer’s End.

Mayumi Nagisa

 

Story of a Blind Woman benefits from a cliché-free music score by Seitaro Omori which uses traditional Japanese instruments in a modernist or avant-garde kind of way. The whole thing is also very nicely shot by director Koji Shima and his DP Kimio Watanabe – I especially loved the shot of Wakao walking towards the camera with which the film ends.

 

*I’m not sure if this name is correct. 

**Sometimes listed as Funabashi, but I think that’s incorrect. 

Thanks to A.K.