Koroshita no wa dareda / 殺したのは誰だ (‘Who is the Real Killer?’, 1957)

Obscure Japanese Film #286

Ichiro Sugai

Misako Watanabe

Eikichi (Ichiro Sugai) is a widowed 55-year-old car salesman with two adult children: Katsuko (Misako Watanabe), a bar hostess who sometimes sleeps with her customers, and Jiro (Asahi Kobayashi), a student who seems to have dropped out, works part-time at a car wash and plays billiards for high stakes when he has the cash. Eikichi has shacked up with Yurie (Toshiko Yamane), who has a cheap eatery ironically named the ‘Peaceful Oasis Diner’. However, nobody seems to actually eat there, only to drink, and it’s patronised mainly by a former salesman turned chronic alcoholic (Jun Hamamura) and assorted flies.

Sugai, Toshiko Yamane and Ko Nishimura

Eikichi is having a run of bad luck at work, partly because he keeps getting undercut by ruthless rival salesman Nakagawa (Ko Nishimura), who has also taken a liking to Yurie. When Nakagawa tempts Eikichi and his friend Frank (Taiji Tonoyama) into a dangerous criminal scheme for some supposedly easy money, more than one person ends up dead…

Yamane, Sugai and Taiji Tonoyama

The title of this Nikkatsu production might lead you to expect a whodunit but, written as an original screenplay by leftist Kaneto Shindo, the answer to the titular question is presumably supposed to be ‘society’. Unusually, Shindo places the focus largely on middle-aged failure Eikichi rather than his troubled offspring. The 50-year-old Ichiro Sugai suits this part very well (it was likely tailor-made) and gives a fine performance in what was a rare leading role for him. Apparently, he had first come to prominence playing Inspector Javert in a now lost film version of Les Miserables directed by Tomu Uchida in 1931. He went on to become a favourite not only of Shindo, but also of Mizoguchi, Kurosawa, Kozaburo Yoshimura and Kon Ichikawa and appeared in over 300 films, even directing two himself, before his passing in 1973.

Sugai with Toshiko Yamane

The film was directed by Ko Nakahira*, best-known for Crazed Fruit (1956). With his customary flair and economy, he paints a vivid picture of a cutthroat post-war world in which people are desperate enough to do almost anything to make a few yen and American culture has been unquestioningly embraced, along with all the emphasis on materialism and capitalism that goes with it. It’s significant that the film opens with a driver’s POV shot of a dashboard bearing the legend ‘Cadillac’; yet when we see the driver’s hand turn on the radio, it’s not American rock and roll or jazz we hear, it’s a melancholy theme provided by the film’s composer, Akira Ifukube, of Godzilla fame. This is the first indication that this will be a film that does not play out along familiar lines.

Jun Hamamura with fly

There’s some effective if not especially subtle symbolism involving spiders and flies, while performances are solid all round, although Jun Hamamura is given a little too much license to scene-steal and be weird. And that’s not the only element which doesn’t always work – Sugai’s drunk scene is over the top and a billiards scene, though cleverly shot and edited, goes on too long – but there are some great, unexpected moments along the way that make this one well worth watching, and it’s stylishly shot by Shinsaku Himeda, who would later win awards for his work with Shohei Imamura.

*IMDb lists Shindo as co-director, but Japanese sites do not.

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Misako Watanabe

Forever, My Love / 佳人 / Kajin (‘Beautiful Woman’/ ‘Good Person’, 1958)

Obscure Japanese Film #252

Ryoji Hayama

1943. Shigeru (Ryoji Hayama) is a student returning from Tokyo to his hometown of Toyooka in Hyogo Prefecture on western Honshu (then part of the San’in region). There, he will have a farewell party before going off to war, but most of all he hopes to see his childhood sweetheart, Tsubura (Izumi Ashikawa), who has been unable to walk since contracting polio at an early age. This has caused her to be largely housebound and live rather like one of the dolls in glass boxes we see in her home.

Jukichi Uno and Sachiko Murase

On the train, Shigeru replays memories from their childhood when, as a boy (played by Hayama’s own kid brother, Kunio Yamaguchi), he would visit her and her kindly mother (Sachiko Murase), while her stern father (Jukichi Uno) looked on disapprovingly. Shigeru would often stop off at the tofu shop, where the girl, Tokie (Miori Karuhata), was jealous of his love for Tsubura. One day, she lured him into the back and seduced him despite the fact that he was yet to reach puberty (the film later backtracks on this somewhat and suggests that they did not go all the way).

Nobuo Kaneko

Izumi Ashikawa

Tsubura gives Shigeru three stones in a pouch, which he carries with him throughout the war. When he finally returns, it’s on the very day that she’s to be married to the local villain, Tachio (Nobuo Kaneko), who had previously run off with Tokie before abandoning her after six months. Now, he’s taken advantage of Tsubura and her mother’s hardship after her father’s death and pressured her into marriage in order to improve his social status. When Shigeru tries to visit her, Tachio won’t even let him in the house, so there’s little he can do but accept the situation. As he walks off despondently, he runs into Tokie (now played by Misako Watanabe), who is now working as a bar hostess (and, it’s implied, is also engaged in some form of prostitution). Initially, she tries to seduce him again, but he’s still too much in love with Tsubura. When Tokie is offered a job keeping the books for Tachio, she becomes a go-between for Shigeru and Tsubura, delivering messages between the two. Meanwhile, although it’s always been assumed that Tsubura is unable to have sex, she finally has her first period – something her mother hopes to keep secret from Tachio, who has begun bringing prostitutes home and forcing Tsubura to watch while he has sex with them...

Ryoji Hayama and Misako Watanabe

This Nikkatsu production was based on the debut novel of Shigeo Fujii (1916-79), who worked in magazine editing and had managed to get it published as a magazine serial the year before. According to Japanese Wikipedia, it ‘was highly praised by Yasunari Kawabata and nominated for the Akutagawa Prize’. When Nikkatsu bought the rights, he quit his day job and devoted himself full time to writing. Wikipedia also notes that, ‘During his lifetime, he believed that, "If I have saké, I don't need anything else." His clumsy and impulsive personality made him feared by editors, and sometimes even made them dislike him.’ Three further films (all obscure B-movies) were adapted from his work, but he’s remained unknown outside Japan. Like his protagonist, Fujii was also from Toyooka and apparently coached the actors in the local dialect. Unfortunately, I have to say that I found the story to be a contrived and excessively sentimental one, though it seems that such fare was eagerly lapped up by quite a large part of the Japanese cinemagoing audience at the time.

Izumi Ashikawa

The emerging new wave filmmakers of the era, on the other hand, had little patience for this kind of material and, although the sexual frankness of the piece is something you wouldn’t see in a Hollywood picture of this era, it sits awkwardly in what is at heart an old-fashioned (even for its day) tearjerker. As I’ve come to expect from director Eisuke Takizawa, the film is very well-made and it’s hard to find fault with the direction, only in what is (to me, anyway) the poor choice of material.

In terms of the cast, nominal star Izumi Ashikawa first appears 33 minutes in (the childhood prologue is a lengthy one) and I almost felt sorry for her in being stuck with such a role – Tsubura is so ridiculously self-sacrificing it’s actually kind of annoying. For his part, Jukichi Uno manages to escape his nice guy image briefly and play a bit of a bastard pretty well (intriguingly, his name does not appear on the poster, whereas Chishu Ryu’s does, suggesting that Uno took his role; perhaps it was felt that the gentle father of the Ozu films would not be accepted in such a part). However, the best performance comes from Misako Watanabe, who makes the perhaps unlikely character of Tokie feel more like a real human being than anyone else manages to do here. Watanabe, who won a Blue Ribbon Award for her performance in Shohei Imamura’s Endless Desire the following year and is also a well-respected stage actress, is still with us at the time of writing at 93 and has been acting as recently as 2024.

Misako Watanabe

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)

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The Seasons of Love / 四季の愛欲 / Shiki no aiyoku (‘Four Seasons of Love’, 1958)

 

Shoji Yasui

 

Gyo (Shoji Yasui) is a famous writer married to self-centred model Ginko (Yuko Kusunoki), but their marriage is not registered and they have told few people about it, fearing that to make it public might damage their careers. Ginko hates Gyo’s mother, Urako (Isuzu Yamada), believing that she abandoned Gyo when he was a child and only got back in touch after he became famous so she could sponge off him. Now 48, Urako is a widow, but in many ways she behaves like a young woman and has a lover, Hirakawa (Tomo’o Nagai), who owns a fabric wholesale business (at one point, she even takes him to see a blue movie). 

 

Yuko Kusunoki

 

Tomo'o Nagai and Isuzu Yamada

She also has two other adult children. One, Momoko (Yoko Katsuragi), is married to the older Tatabe (Jukichi Uno), but does not love him even though he treats her kindly and they have a young son. Unfortunately, she’s fallen in love with Tatabe’s cousin, Akaboshi (Yuji Odaka), a two-faced womaniser who laughs at her love letters behind her back. (After he tears one up and throws it in the wastepaper basket, we see his secretary taping it back together so she can read it). 

 

Yoko Katsuragi and Yuji Odaka

 

Urako’s other daughter is Harue (Sanae Nakahara), who dislikes Ginko and wants her brother, Gyo, to dump her and date her friend, Shinako (Shinako Mine) instead. However, when he takes them both to a hot spring inn for a treat, he gets chatting to the barmaid, Yuriko (Misako Watanabe), and when she casually mentions being troubled by athlete’s foot, he jumps behind the bar, removes her socks and smears her toes with a remedy he happens to have handy, kick-starting a love affair… 

 

Misako Watanabe

 

This Nikkatsu production was based on a 1957 novel entitled Shiki no engi (‘The Four Seasons of Acting/Performance’) by Fumio Niwa (1904-2005), whose work also provided the basis for Women of Tokyo (1939), The Beloved Image (1960) and Four Sisters (1962) among other films. Like many films by director Ko Nakahira, it takes a pretty dim view of human nature on the whole, although in this case some of the characters are quite sympathetic despite the amount of adultery going on. In any case, it’s clear that we’re a long way from Ozu and the world of Tokyo Story here, and perhaps that’s partly the point. There’s no genial Chishu Ryu-type father figure in this film, nor any father figure at all for that matter. The screenplay was written by the intriguing if not very prolific Keiji Hasebe, also known for his collaborations with Shohei Imamura, so new-wavers like him and Nakahira were likely reacting against the cosier domestic dramas of Ozu and others. In fact, the ending piles coincidence on top of coincidence in a way that strongly suggests that Nakahira and Hasebe were taking the piss. 

 

Yoko Katsuragi

 

If you can accept the film’s (possibly deliberate) absurdities, there’s much to enjoy, with Isuzu Yamada and Yoko Katsuragi taking the acting honours among a strong cast. There’s also an effective score by Toshiro Mayuzumi, albeit one of his more conventional efforts.

Thanks to A.K.

Gyakukosen / 逆光線 / (‘Backlight’, 1956)

Obscure Japanese Film #199

Mie Kitahara

Following on from the commercial success earlier in 1956 of their films Season of the Sun and Crazed Fruit, this was Nikkatsu’s stab at a female-centred ‘sun tribe’ movie - ‘sun tribe’ being a term adopted by the Japanese press in reference to the first film to describe what was then a new phenomenon: rebellious, spoilt teenagers, generally from wealthy families, who despised the older generation and were unapologetically interested only in gratifying their own desires. Like Season of the Sun, this one was directed by Takumi Furukawa, a lesser director than Ko Nakahira, who had made Crazed Fruit, the female star of which was Mie Kitahara, who stars again here. 

 

Kitahara and Shoji Yasui

 

Kitahara plays Reiko, a student who shares a dormitory with other female students and who, in this case, does not seem to be from a wealthy family or even to have a family – certainly no reference is made to one, and she has to take on various part-time jobs to get by. What marks Reiko out as different is her attitude to sex – she likes to take the initiative and, early on in the film, she makes advances to a male student, Maki (Shoji Yasui), literally throwing herself at him and biting the button off his jacket. The two begin having a relationship, but one in which traditional roles are reversed – in this case, it’s the man who wants marriage and complains that she only loves him for his body, while she wants no commitment, only to have a good time. Reiko also has a one-night stand with Teramura (Kyoji Aoyama), incurring the wrath of his fiancé / her classmate Motoko (Misako Watanabe) as a result. But it’s when she begins tutoring a young boy at his home and seduces his father (Hiroshi Nihonyanagi) that she really begins playing with fire… 

 

Hiroshi Nihonyanagi

 

Whereas the previous two films had been based on stories by Shintaro Ishihara, the source for Gyakukosen was a novel of the same name by Kunie Iwahashi (1934-2014). Apparently, on its publication (also in 1956), there was ‘a frenzy of media coverage of her as the female equivalent of Ishihara’ (Japanese Wikipedia). 

 

 

Although it may seem like fairly tame stuff today, there’s no doubt that the sexual frankness of this film and the carefully-calculated moments of uninhibited sensuality on Reiko’s part (another example being the scene in which she takes a drink of water from Teramura’s mouth at a drinking fountain) would have been quite shocking at the time. The problem with the film is that it comes across less as a heartfelt plea for sexual equality and more like a cynically motivated product designed to stir up controversy and extract as many yen as possible from the pockets of Japanese teenagers. The sun tribe genre proved to be extremely short-lived as there was some evidence that a number of rapes and sexual assaults had been committed by youngsters influenced by the films. This led to protests by concerned parents and teachers, who were successful in having the genre effectively banned by the end of the year. As Liam Grealy and Catherine Driscoll point out in an online article, there were really only five sun tribe films proper, all of which were released in 1956, the other two being Kon Ichikawa’s Punishment Room and Hiromichi Horikawa’s Summer in Eclipse.

 

 

One oddity of this film is that it features a great deal of group singing of Russian folk songs by the young people, presumably a reflection of the fact that communism had become popular in Japan during the post-war years and had inspired an interest in Russian culture. Gyakukosen is largely unremarkable in terms of cinematic craft – the ending is really the only part that is visually memorable – and probably only of interest to fans of Mie Kitahara or anyone with an interest in the sun tribe phenomenon. 

 

 Thanks to A.K. 

Mountain Pass / 峠 / Toge (1957)

Obscure Japanese Film #196

 

Yoko Minamida

 

Tsukiko (Yoko Minamida) is a young woman dabbling in acting who gets signed by a movie studio where she is cast alongside star actress Harumi Sada (Misako Watanabe), a selfish bitch. Tsukiko’s father, Reisuke (Masao Shimizu), is a distinguished former diplomat who now lives with Tsukiko’s stepmother, Tomiko (Sachiko Murase), with whom she has an uneasy relationship, believing that Tomiko stole Reisuke away from her late mother. 

 

Masao Shimizu

 

Sachiko Murase

 

Tsukiko keeps running into nice guy magazine reporter Daisuke (Ryoji Hayama), a friend of her twinkly-eyed uncle (Jukichi Uno). However, after she meets the wealthy and money-obsessed Junzo (Shoji Yasui), who wants to marry her, she decides that the film biz is not for her and becomes his wife. Unfortunately, it turns out that Junzo and Harumi are former lovers; when Harumi happens to be on the same train as the newlyweds, she asks them which hotel they’ll be staying at and then transfers to the same one with the intention of seducing Junzo…

 

Ryoji Hayama

 

 

Shoji Yasui

 

Despite its title, this romantic drama from Nikkatsu studios has little to do with mountains – there’s some talk about Daisuke finding a mole up a mountain, which seems to be a strained metaphor for something or other, but that’s about it. Based on a serialised novel of the same name by Jiro Osaragi (best-known for his series of novels featuring his hooded swordsman character, Kurama Tengu), it was adapted by one Tamio Aoyama, whose brief screenwriting career resulted in only nine credits. Frankly, on the evidence of this film, it’s not hard to see why – there are  more coincidental meetings (one of my pet hates!) than you can shake a stick at, most of the characters are mere types rather than recognisable human beings, and Tsukiko’s marriage to Junzo is entirely unconvincing. 

 

Jukichi Uno

 

 

Misako Watanabe

 

The actors do their best, with Yoko Minamida and Sachiko Murase making especially heroic efforts with the flawed material they’ve been lumbered with, while Misako Watanabe can hardly fail to make an impression in the fun bad girl role, but for the most part these characters – especially the male ones – never really come to life. The corny string-dominated music score of Takanobu Saito and pedestrian direction by Buichi Saito (no relation) certainly do not help matters either. Director Saito had been an assistant to Ozu and began his own career making films of a similar type to his mentor, but had little success until he switched to more commercial fare such as The Rambling Guitarist (1959) and it’s eight sequels. 

 

Yoko Minamida

 

While the theme of how to deal with an unfaithful partner has potential and it’s satisfying to see Tsukiko refuse to be a victim and stand up for herself at the end, Mountain Pass is too contrived to be judged anything more than a mediocre piece of work.

Thanks to A.K.

Amazon Japan (no subtitles)

Bonus trivia: Shohei Imamura was assistant director on this film and can be seen playing one of the staff at the studio where Tsukiko makes her movie debut.