The Gate of Youth / 青春の門 / Seishun no mon (1975)

Obscure Japanese Film #165

Tomohiro Tanabe and Sayuri Yoshinaga

 

Based on the first part of a bestselling doorstop novel by Hiroyuki Itsuki (b.1932) and running over three hours, this big-budget Toho production spans a period of over 30 years from 1918 to the 1950s, and tells the story of Shinsuke, the son of a Fukuoka coalminer, as he is raised alone by his stepmother (after his father is killed attempting to rescue some trapped Korean miners), survives the Second World War, grows into a man and has his first sexual and romantic experiences. 

 

Tatsuya Nakadai

The first half hour focuses on Shinsuke’s father, Juzo, a tough, brawling miner with a sense of justice, who not only tries to save the exploited Koreans, but had earlier fought against the army as they tried to suppress the workers’ rebellion during the rice riots of 1918. Played in full scenery-chewing mode by Tatsuya Nakadai, he is known as the ‘climbing spider’ and sports a large spider tattoo on his back à la Ayako Wakao in Irezumi (1966). He completely dominates the opening scenes, then departs with a fart gag and is only briefly glimpsed again in a couple of flashbacks. 

 

Once Juzo dies, Shinsuke and his stepmother become the focus. As the character grows from a very young child into a man during the course of the movie, Shinsuke is played by a number of actors, but mainly by Tomohiro Tanabe as a pre-teen and teenager, and by Ken Tanaka as an adult. His stepmother, Tae, is portrayed by Sayuri Yoshinaga, a big star in Japan who has remained little-known abroad but delivers the film’s most convincing performance. 

Sayuri Yoshinaga

 

The beginning of the movie, with its use of speeded-up film and voiceover from a narrator (Shoichi Ozawa) who sometimes even pops up on screen (once during a sex scene, of which there are some weird ones) made me wonder if I was in for some irreverent, Kihachi Okamoto-inspired wackiness, but these eccentric touches ultimately proved too intermittent to seem anything other than occasional bits of whimsy on the part of the director, Kirio Urayama. A former assistant to Shohei Imamura, Urayama had won the Blue Ribbon Award for Best New Director for his debut film, Foundry Town (1962), also starring Sayuri Yoshinaga. Subsequently, he appeared to struggle to find enough work and only managed to complete 10 films before his death at 54 in 1985. Perhaps personal hygiene may have been a reason for his lack of employment, as his Japanese Wikipedia page states:

He hated baths, and when he went to Seijun Suzuki's house while drunk, he was locked naked in the bathroom by Seijun and his common-law wife (whom he later married) because of the terrible smell. However, he managed to escape naked through the bathroom window.

The film proved to be a huge hit at the Japanese box office, leading not only to a sequel two years later, but to a remake (with its own sequel) a mere six years after the original as well as a number of TV adaptations. 

Ken Tanaka

 

Shot in academy ratio, the film looks pretty good, making effective use of real locations and suggesting close attention to historical details in the dressing of the sets, etc. However, I found the character of Shinsuke unsympathetic and many of the performances too broad, while I felt that the writing never rose above the standard of melodrama, the music was uninspired and the whole thing too vulgar and sentimental. In fairness, though, I should point out that a lot of people seem to like this movie and other opinions are available… 

 

Watched with dodgy subtitles.

Thanks to A.K.

Sweet Sweat / 甘い汗 / Amai ase (1964)

Obscure Japanese Film #155

Machiko Kyo

Kyo with Sadako Sawamura

Umeko (Machiko Kyo) is a 36-year-old unmarried mother of a teenage daughter, Takeko (Miyuki Kuwano). They live in poverty in a cramped dwelling shared with her brother’s family and their mother (Sadako Sawamura). Umeko is used to trading on her looks in various ways to get by but has an unfortunate habit of drinking too much. She thinks she has it made when sleazy bartender Fujii (Shoichi Ozawa) fixes her up with wealthy art dealer Gondo (Eitaro Ozawa), who intends to make her his long-term mistress, but Gondo kicks her out when he discovers that she has not been entirely straight with him. Another chance of salvation seems to present itself when she runs into old flame Tatsuoka (Keiji Sada), but this is a world in which there are no fairly tale endings… 

 

Kyo with Shoichi Ozawa

On 1 July 1964, Fuji TV broadcast an original 1-hour drama entitled Abura deri (‘Oily Weather’) as part of their Theatre of 10 Million People series. Marking the first appearance of Machiko Kyo in a TV drama, it was written by Yoko Mizuki, a screenwriter known for her collaborations with film directors Mikio Naruse and Tadashi Imai. Sweet Sweat, released on 19 Sep 1964, is an expanded version of the same story with a screenplay also written by Mizuki. It’s impressive that Tokyo Eiga, the studio that produced it, were able to have an entirely new 2-hour version in cinemas just three and a half months later, especially as their film betrays no sign of having been knocked out in a hurry. On the contrary, it gives the impression of having been made with a great deal of care and attention to detail by everyone involved, not least Shiro Toyoda, a director known for bringing a high level of visual flair to his films, many of which were literary adaptations. 

Kyo with Eitaro Ozawa

 

Yoko Mizuki won a Kinema Junpo Award for Best Screenplay for this film, while Kyo deservedly won both the Kinema Junpo Award and the Mainichi Film Award for Best Actress. She’s first seen here having a drunken cat-fight with another bar hostess, but we quickly learn that Umeko herself is a consummate actress – when she puts on her best kimono and visits Gondo for the first time, he’s initially convinced that she really is the demure victim of misfortune she appears to be. It’s the type of role that’s a gift for an actress, and Kyo is a joy to watch when she gets a role like this one that doesn’t require her to be too restrained. 

Kyo with Keiji Sada

 

It’s also interesting to see Keiji Sada subverting his usual nice guy image in his final film role before his untimely death in a car crash. Sada seemed keen to stretch himself in his later films – Escape from Hell being another example – so it would have been interesting to see what he would do next had he lived. At one point in Sweet Sweat, his character even throws salt at Umeko as if she’s an evil spirit he must ward off, though she would perhaps be more justified in throwing salt at him. Also notable in the cast is 22-year-old Miyuki Kuwano, who is entirely convincing as a 17-year-old high school student. Although this may not seem much of an acting feat, when compared with her leading role in The Shape of Night the same year, it becomes obvious that she was also a versatile talent. 

 

Kyo with Miyuki Kuwano

Mostly set in the run-down Tokyo neighbourhood of Shimokitazawa, then being torn apart for redevelopment, this is a terrific film with a tangible atmosphere of discomfort; everyone seems to be constantly fanning themselves or wiping the sweat off. It also benefits from the nicely unintrusive music score by Hikaru Hayashi and excellent cinematography of Kozo Okazaki. Newly released on DVD in Japan, this is a film ripe for rediscovery and one which I think will start to receive more attention in the near future.

 

Thanks to A.K.

DVD at Amazon Japan (no English subtitles)

A Story from Echigo / 越後つついし親不知 / Echigo Tsutsuishi Oyashirazu (1964)

Obscure Japanese Film #107

Rentaro Mikuni and Yoshiko Sakuma

In 1930s Japan, Gonsuke (Rentaro Mikuni) is working at a sake brewery in Fushimi, Kyoto when he receives news that his mother is seriously ill. He is given compassionate leave to return to his village in Echigo (a former province in the snowy area of north-central Japan now known as Niigata Prefecture). As a colleague of Gonsuke’s named Tomekichi (Shoichi Ozawa) is from the same village, Gonsuke asks him if he has a message for his wife, Oshin (Yoshiko Sakuma). Tomekichi asks him to tell Oshin that he’s just been promoted. This is news to Gonsuke, who was already jealous of Tomekichi’s marriage to such an attractive woman as Oshin and is now doubly displeased to hear that he’s been passed over for promotion in favour of Tomekichi. 

 

Eijiro Tono and Mikuni

 

On his way home, Gonsuke stops off at an inn, where he falls into conversation with a fellow customer (Eijro Tono) who it turns out used to be in the army with Gonsuke’s elder brother. This lascivious old man tells Gonsuke tales of the brother’s many sexual conquests while they were stationed in Russia together. Gonsuke gets drunk with him before leaving and begins to brood about his own lack of a sex life before completing his journey home. When he’s nearly reached the village, he encounters Oshin walking home alone from her job weaving tatami mats. He makes a clumsy pass at her but, finding himself rejected, he rapes her in the snow.

While Gonsuke was committing this crime, his mother was dying; when he gets home, it’s already too late. However, he seems not only indifferent to her death, but actually full of himself for having managed to have his way with Oshin when there was nobody around. After his mother’s funeral, he visits her and again makes advances but is again rejected. His vanity wounded, he decides to get revenge by telling Tomekichi that Oshin is having an affair with the foreman at her workplace (Kei Sato)…

Sakuma and Mikuni

 

If that partial synopsis rings a bell, that’s because this is a clever recycling of Othello – the setting and the personalities may be considerably altered, but essentially Gonsuke is Iago, Tomekichi is Othello, Oshin is Desdemona and the foreman is Cassio. Due to the way the plot unfolds, it’s clear that this is no coincidence, especially if we take into account that the film was based on a 1962 novel by Tsutomu Mizukami (or Minakami), who would certainly have been familiar with the major plays of Shakespeare. Mizukami was a fine writer whose other filmed novels include The Temple of Wild Geese, Bamboo Dolls of Echizen, Straits of Hunger (aka A Fugitive from the Past) and Lake of Tears (also starring Yoshiko Sakuma). I recommend the Dalkey Archive’s English translation of The Temple of Wild Geese and Bamboo Dolls of Echizen in one volume if you can find it.

The great thing about this kind of story is that it could happen to people of any era or country, so it has not dated at all and probably never will (unlike some of director Tadashi Imai’s more topical pictures, such as Darkness at Noon, for example). Partly for this reason, A Story from Echigo may be his best film, in my opinion (not that I’ve seen them all). Another reason is that the performances from all three principles are outstanding. Rentaro Mikuni was always at his best in sleazy or unsympathetic roles, and he’s in his element here, utterly convincing as a vulgar man with zero morals or empathy, but who is, deep down, a sad and pathetic individual. Yoshiko Sakuma is every bit as good playing the unfortunate victim of male lust and jealousy who does her best to stand up to Gonsuke, but is ultimately placed in an impossible position. Sakuma has some arduous scenes in this film, and you really have to take your hat off to her. This may well be her most impressive performance. Shoichi Ozawa is perhaps better known for playing leading roles of a more comic type in films like Shohei Imamura’s The Pornographers (1966) and Yasuzo Masumura’s Chijin no ai (A Fool’s Love, 1967). In this more serious role, his character changes dramatically throughout the course of the film, and he portrays this metamorphosis extremely well. Eijiro Tono and Kei Sato make the most of their brief appearances, while the film also benefits from the presence of two wonderful old pros, Taiji Tonoyama and Tanie Kitabayashi, as two of the village elders.

Shoichi Ozawa

 

The story is strong stuff, and even contains a not-so-subtle hint of necrophilia at one point, resulting in the film receiving an ‘Adult’ classification for its original release. At the time it was made, Toei (the studio responsible) were deliberately introducing more sex into their films in an effort to entice people away from their TV sets and back into the cinemas. According to Japanese Wikipedia, it was Toei president Shigeru Okada’s idea to feature Yoshiko Sakuma in a more ‘sexy’ role than she had previously played. Toei certainly promoted A Story from Echigo as an erotic film, though it’s hard to imagine anyone being turned on by anything in it. In any case, perhaps this element explains why such a fine film was largely overlooked as far as awards go, scraping only a Mainichi Film Concours Best Screenplay award (shared with another film) for Yasutaro Yagi (1903-87, not 1906-65 as IMDb states). 

 

Composer Sei Ikeno and Tadashi Imai’s frequent collaborator, cinematographer Shunichiro Nakao, also deserve a nod for their fine work on this great film, which has an ending that is both devastating and perfect. 

 

Note on the title: In the Japanese title, Echigo Tsutsuishi Oyashirazu, Tsutsuishi is the name of the village the principal characters come from, while Oyashirazu refers to the Oyashirazu Cliffs in the same area.

Bonus trivia: The village scenes were shot on location at Itoigawa in Niigata Prefecture.