Convicted Woman / 女犯破戒 / Nyohan hakai (1966)

Obscure Japanese Film #275

Yoko Mihara and Takahiro Tamura

Ushinosuke (Takahiro Tamura) is a Kyoto actor who elopes with a young woman, O-Ume (Mayumi Ogawa), in a small boat. She decides they must die together and attacks him with a knife; the boat capsizes in the struggle and only Ushinosuke survives. Seven years later, in repentance, he has become a monk at Enmei-in Temple in Edo under the new name of Dogyo, but his faith is continually tested by lustful young women like Okura (Reiko Ohara), who apparently find his pompous piety and shaven pate irresistible.

Mayumi Ogawa

One day, Ryuzen (Nobuo Kaneko), who knows about Dogyo’s past, comes to the monastery to train as a monk, but appears to have some form of blackmail in mind. Meanwhile, the elderly head priest is dying but tries to seduce Dogyo on his deathbed. A shocked Dogyo runs off and lets himself be seduced by Okura instead while Ryuzen is finishing off the old priest. For some reason, Dogyo then decides to become the wickedest priest that ever lived...

Nobuo Kaneko with TT

This monksploitation meller from Toei was part of the studio’s drive to lure dwindling audiences back into the cinema with the promise of more erotic content, although said content remains mostly rather tame at this early stage. The fact that it was made in black and white and the star is Takahiro Tamura (who had seldom carried a picture before this one) seems indicative of a low budget, as does the silly script by B-movie hack Kikuma Shimoiizaka. Director Eiichi Kudo of 13 Assassins (1963) fame pulls off a few memorable moments, but the unconvincing characters and over-the-top performances soon prove tiresome, making the film quite a let-down after a strong opening sequence.

Reiko Ohara and TT

A note on the title:

Although Convicted Woman appears to have been an official English title, it doesn’t fit the content; the Japanese title can be translated as ‘Female Transgression’ or ‘Women Breaking the Commandments’, either of which make more sense in light of the story.

Thanks to A.K.

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Tales of the Inner Chambers / 大奥絵巻 / Ooku emaki (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #173

Yoshiko Sakuma

 

Edo Castle, c.1790. When virginal chambermaid Aki (Yoshiko Sakuma) catches the eye of the shogun (Takahiro Tamura) while taking part in a dance performance, he decides to make her his concubine. Aki’s elder sister, Asaoke (Chikage Awashima), is already employed at the castle, but once Aki enters the inner chambers, all family ties are supposed to be forgotten. 

Takahiro Tamura

 

Aki is extremely reluctant at first, but has absolutely no choice in the matter; fortunately, the shogun treats her better than she expected. This may be because she reminds him of the girl he wanted to marry who died, leading him to become trapped in a loveless marriage of political convenience to Hagino (Hiroko Sakuramachi). Unfortunately, the favouritism of the shogun for Aki and the fact that this is to the advantage of Asaoke is greatly resented by some female members of the court, who split into two factions. 

Chikage Awashima

 

Aki also has a younger sister, Machi (Reiko Ohara), who has a naïve idea of the inner chambers and wants to work there but is discouraged from doing so by her sisters. When the rival faction offer her a position, the scheming between the two groups spirals out of control, leading to blackmail, torture and murder... 

Reiko Ohara

 

Surprisingly, this Toei production is not based on a literary source – the intelligent screenplay was an original work by Masashige Narusawa (who wrote and directed the recently-reviewed Cards Are My Life). In this case, the director is Kosaku Yamashita, perhaps best-known for the same year’s Big Time Gambling Boss. It looks like he put a great deal of care into this, and was ably abetted by cinematographer Juhei Suzuki (13 Assassins), not to mention those responsible for the costumes and art direction, whose combined talents make this film a feast for the eyes which exploits the colour format to the fullest. Ichiro Saito’s orchestral music is also an integral part of the film and is another asset that marks it out as being far from routine. 

Chikage Awashima

 

As far as I can tell, the story itself has little historical basis. It unfolds rather like a Jacobean tragedy and offers a pretty dark view of human nature. As Asaoke (another fine performance from Chikage Awashima) observes, “There is no righteousness or morality here, only female vanity and ostentation. You slay or be slain, kill or be killed.” Indeed, things do get violent, but not gratuitously so, and the film’s comparative restraint may be one reason it’s not better known. In fact, it’s a fine piece of work all round, and the only explanation for its currently criminally low rating on IMDb (5.4) that occurs to me is that maybe some people didn’t get the sexploitation movie they were expecting. 

Yoshiko Sakuma and Hitomi Nozoe

 

I was surprised to see former Daiei star Hitomi Nozoe in such a minor role as the one she has here, but then realised that she’d left Daiei to have kids in 1962 and had only just begun attempting to resurrect her acting career.

A note on the title: Ooku is the name for the inner palace or chambers of Edo Castle, where the shogun’s harem was kept, while emaki means ‘picture scroll’ rather than ‘tales’.

Thanks to A.K.

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)