I’ll Cry Alone / 帯をとく夏子 / Obi o toku Natsuko (‘Natsuko Unties Her Obi’, 1965)

Obscure Japanese Film #235

Ayako Wakao

Eiji Funakoshi

Natsuko (Ayako Wakao) is a former hot spring geisha who has become the exclusive mistress of company president Sakuma (Eiji Funakoshi in unconvincing old man make-up). He’s under pressure from his sister Kanako (Yumeji Tsukioka) to marry Taeko (Noriko Hodaka) as it will be good for the company and, although he wants to continue seeing Natsuko on the side, Natsuko is not happy with the idea.

Yumeji Tsukioka

Kyoko Enami

A chance of a different future seems to present itself when Sakuma begins a liaison with unlikely window cleaner Sumiko (Kyoko Enami) and Natsuko runs into (literally) the teacher she had a crush on at school, Kenji (Mikijiro Hira). However, he’s now reduced to working as a garage mechanic and unable to keep her in the luxury to which she has become accustomed…

Mikijiro Hira

This Daiei production was based on the ‘Natsuko’ series of stories by Seiichi Funahashi* serialised in the literary magazine Shincho between 1952 and 1961. The first batch was published as a novel entitled Geisha Konatsu in 1952, and Toho had produced two films about Natsuko using that title in 1954/55 with Mariko Okada starring. Funahashi was also the author of the source material for Story of a Blind Woman (also 1965) and the two versions of Portrait of Madame Yuki (1950 and 1968). Unfortunately, as I felt was the case for those stories, this is another that’s unlikely to resonate much with viewers these days.

Although the film has a clear message in favour of female independence, coming as it does after we have watched Natsuko fawning over two undeserving men for most of the film, it feels tacked on almost as an afterthought. Considering the deeply-ingrained sexism of the society that Natsuko is forced to inhabit, a more hard-hitting approach would have been preferable, but the tone is fairly light here, with some scenes simply played for laughs (of which, admittedly, there are a couple). This half-heartedness is probably because the real reason for the film’s existence was simply to provide another vehicle for Ayako Wakao; at the time, much was made of the fact that she wore only kimono in this picture – but, of course, a different kimono for each scene.

Directed by veteran Shigeo Tanaka with the same competent indifference he brought to the earlier Wakao costume-change flick Tokyo Onigiri Girl (1961).

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

DVD at Amazon Japan

Thanks to A.K. and to Coralsundy for the English subtitles

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A Picture of Madame Yuki / 雪夫人繪圖 / Yuki Fujin ezu (1968)

Obscure Japanese Film #227

1949. Teenage orphan Hamako (Sumiko Hasegawa) arrives at a grand residence at Shinobazu Pond in Ueno, Tokyo, to serve as maid to the aristocratic Madame Yuki (Yoshiko Sakuma), whose father, a former viscount, has just died. Various relatives and opportunistic acquaintances flock to the scene like vultures hoping to secure a piece of the carcass for themselves. Among them are Yuki’s husband, Naoyuki (Isao Yamagata), who spends most of his time in Kyoto with his mistress, Ayako (Yuko Hama). However, it turns out that Yuki’s father has left nothing but debts, so the house is sold and the family’s other home in snowy Nagano is turned into an inn. Meanwhile, Yuki has been having an affair with Kikunaka (Tetsuro Tanba), a married writer, but even though she detests her own husband, he retains a mysterious sexual hold over her from which she seems unable to break free...

Isao Yamagata

Although the official English title of this film chooses ‘Picture’ over ‘Portrait’, it is, of course, based on the same novel as the better-known Kenji Mizoguchi film of 1950. The novel, by Seiichi Funahashi* (1904-76), first appeared in serial form between 1948-1950 and remains untranslated into English. To be frank, I can’t stand the story in either film version. One reason is the portrayal of unquestioning devotion, even idolatry, of a servant for her mistress, which seems to give tacit approval to the class system. Although Hamako becomes disillusioned with her mistress and Funahashi may have been trying to make a broader point about the disillusionment of the younger generation in the post-war years regarding the ruling class, the problem is that Yuki is presented as someone to be pitied and, if not deserving of the elevated status she enjoyed, it’s only because of her lack of courage. Indeed, while her self-pitying, acquiescent victimhood is irritating, she’s still painted as a tragic heroine. It also doesn’t help that the bad behaviour of the villains of the piece – the cruel husband and his predictably cheap and vulgar mistress – is so blatant that it’s never convincing.

At heart, the story is an old-fashioned melodrama, and, while the writer-director of this version, Masashige Narusawa – who had been a screenwriter for Mizoguchi on four of the latter’s final films – has for the most part clearly tried to downplay this as much as possible, still it is what it is. He certainly made a very different film to his mentor’s and was, reportedly, more faithful to the original novel. However, well-photographed though it is, it lacks the often inspired camera placement and composition found in the original, and so is not really an improvement overall, only in certain aspects. Transferring the bulk of the story to a snowy location (yuki means snow in Japanese) was a good idea, but it’s those crane shots with the rolling mist by the lake at the end of Mizoguchi’s film that linger in my mind.

Tetsuro Tanba

Compared to the wimpy character portrayed by Ken Uehara in 1950, Tetsuro Tanba is a much more commanding, masculine presence, yet none of the performances in either film are especially notable, perhaps because Funahashi – who also wrote the source novel for The Story of a Blind Woman – failed to put much life into them in the first place. Still, it’s a shame that this proved to be the final film directed by Narusawa as he clearly had talent, even if it’s less evident here than in his previous two pictures.

Produced by Toei, who had been pushing Yoshiko Sakuma as a star of literary erotica since their 1963 film of Tsutomu Mizukami’s Gobancho Yugiri-ro (aka A House in the Quarter), this version was shelved and not released until it was bought by Nikkatsu in 1975.

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

Thanks to Coralsundy for the subtitles, which can be found here.

Thanks to A.K.

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.