Suzakumon / 朱雀門 (aka The Love of a Princess, 1957)

Obscure Japanese Film #87

Ayako Wakao

1858. Princess Kazu no Miya (Ayako Wakao), the sister of the Emperor, has been engaged to Prince Arisugawa (Raizo Ichikawa) since childhood. Her maid, Yuhide (Fujiko Yamamoto), is more like a best friend than a servant, and it’s assumed that she will become the Prince’s concubine if the Princess fails to produce a male heir. Although the two women seem to have little problem with this, the Prince disagrees with the practice. However, it turns out to be irrelevant as their plans go awry in the wake of the signing of the Treaty of Amity and Commerce with the United States. As this action was undertaken by the Tokugawa Shogunate without the Emperor’s blessing, relations between the Shogunate and the Imperial Palace take a turn for the worse. 

 

Eijiro Tono

Yuhide’s father, Tomofusa (Eijiro Tono), spots an opportunity to improve his own position by putting forward a scheme to politician Tomomi Iwakura (Eitaro Ozawa) and daimyo Tadaaki Sakai (Masao Mishima) to arrange a marriage between the Princess and the new shogun, Iemochi Tokugawa (Yoichi Funaki), in order to cement ties between the shogunate and the palace. The Princess finds herself under pressure to break her engagement; aided by Yuhide, she attempts to flee, but this is anticipated by Tomofusa and the plan fails. Meanwhile, Yuhide is dealing with her own feelings for the Prince as well as suspicions about her own parentage when Tomofusa puts her life in danger but she is protected by a mysterious wandering monk (Eijiro Yanagai)… 

Fujiko Yamamoto

 

Produced at their Kyoto studios, this Daiei production was based on a 1953 novel entitled Kojo Kazu no Miya (literally ‘Imperial Princess Kazu of the Palace’) by Matsutaro Kawaguchi (father of actor Hiroshi Kawaguchi), who also happened to be head of production at Daiei. Although most of the characters are real historical figures, Yuhide, Tomofusa and the monk seem to be fictional inventions. The real Princess Kazu no Miya (1846-77) was only 12 in 1858, when this story begins, although that’s not apparent here, nor is the fact that the real events covered took place over a period of nearly 20 years. 

Ayako Wakao

 

Ayako Wakao is associated with contemporary roles to such an extent that it seems a little strange to see her in period costume, although it’s by no means the only occasion she appeared in a historical drama. This must also be the wimpiest role she ever played; as portrayed in Suzakumon, Kazu no Miya is a fragile and tragic victim of events, rather than a protagonist who instigates any of the action. Wakao is fine as always, but it’s hard to believe this is the same actress who played the tough prostitute out for revenge in Irezumi (1966). 

Raizo Ichikawa

 

Director Kazuo Mori (1911-89) was a competent but not especially distinguished filmmaker who had worked as an assistant to Daisuke Ito and later directed episodes in the Shinobi no mono and Zatoichi series as well as the previously-reviewed The Saga of Tanegashima, also featuring Ayako Wakao (in fact, he directed Wakao nine times). I found Ichiro Saito’s score quite beautiful and atmospheric at first, but unfortunately it is overused here and becomes repetitive and sometimes cloying.  It’s visually that this film stands out the most, and it’s no surprise that the colour cinematography by Kazuo Miyagawa (a favourite of Mizoguchi and Kurosawa) won a couple of awards, although I thought that the colour timing in the copy I saw could be improved. 

L-R: Eitaro Ozawa, Eijiro Tono and Masao Mishima

 

Suzakumon probably seemed quite old-fashioned and sentimental even in 1957 (the year of Masaki Kobayashi’s Black River and Yasuzo Masumura’s debut, Kisses) and there’s little in the way of action. However, it has enough good qualities to make it worth seeing for fans of Japanese period dramas, including alongside its star trio a strong supporting cast featuring Eijiro Tono, Eitaro Ozawa and Masao Mishima, three stalwarts from Haiyuza, the theatre company and acting school which also produced Tatsuya Nakadai; Tono has the juiciest role of the three here and certainly makes the most of it. 

 

Note on the title:

It’s unclear why the title of the novel was not used but, according to Wikipedia, “The Suzakumon was the main gate built in the center of the south end of the imperial palaces in the Japanese ancient capitals of Fujiwara-kyō, Heijō-kyō, and later Heian-kyō. The placement followed the ancient Chinese palace model requirements at the time, where Suzaku, the Vermilion Bird was the Guardian of the South. It was said to be the site where foreign dignitaries were received by the Emperor.”

The Beauty and the Water Dragon / 美女と怪龍 / Bijo to umi ryu (1955)

Obscure Japanese Film #86

Nobuko Otowa

This Toei production filmed at their Kyoto studios is an adaptation of a kabuki play dating back to 1684 entitled Narukami after one of its main characters, a monk (here played by Chojuro Kawarasaki) who has been promised a new temple by the local lord for supposedly changing the sex of the lord’s heir from female to male by means of prayer while the child was still in the womb. However, Prince Hayakumo (Kunitaro Kawarasaki) suspects Narukami of being a Tartuffe-like charlatan and fears that providing a new temple for him will anger a group of monks from a different sect, so he cancels the project. 

Prince Hayakumo (Hayakumo = fast spider, hence the cool kimono)

 

In revenge, Narukami creates a drought by imprisoning the dragon god in a waterfall. After 100 days without rain, the crops have failed and the peasants are revolting, so something must be done. It is said that the reading of a certain scroll will break Narukami’s spell, but the only person who might be able to decipher the ancient characters is Lady Taema (Nobuko Otowa). Although in reality she also has no clue how to read it, Taema keeps this to herself and decides to use her womanly charms against the celibate priest instead… 

Chojuro Kawarasaki flanked by Shinosuke Ichikawa and Taiji Tonoyama

 

Kozaburo Yoshimura’s film was made to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Zenshinza, a Tokyo-based kabuki troupe, and many Zenshinza actors are featured among the cast, including Chojuro Kawarasaki as Narukami. However, this was not the first time Zenshinza had been involved in a film project (the 1937 picture Humanity and Paper Balloons being another example), and not all of the actors featured here were members of the troupe. The most familiar faces to film fans will probably be Nobuko Otowa and Taiji Tonoyama, both favourites of filmmaker Kaneto Shindo, who wrote the witty screenplay for this adaptation. 

Shinosuke Ichikawa (left) and Taiji Tonoyama (right)

Tonoyama and Shinosuke Ichikawa (in his only film role; presumably a member of Zenshinza) are great fun as Hakkun and Kokkun, bickering apprentice monks/servants to Narukami who are more interested in alcohol, women and forbidden snack foods than spiritual training. This is purely speculative, but I wonder whether they might have inspired Kurosawa to create the two squabbling peasants played by Minoru Chiaki and Kamatari Fujiwara in The Hidden Fortress (1958), which later famously inspired George Lucas to create C-3PO and R2-D2 in Star Wars. We’ll probably never know, but the date fits and it’s highly likely that Kurosawa would have seen The Beauty and the Water Dragon.

Nobuko Otowa

Considering its basis in one of the canonical kabuki plays and the fact that a kabuki company was heavily involved in the production, it’s somewhat surprising that director Kozaburo Yoshimura’s film is not in the least precious, even at one point featuring a clearly anachronistic dance which looks like something you might see in a 1950s nightclub, but probably not in the Heian era, during which this story is set.  However, it’s worth noting that Zenshinza were one of the more progressive kabuki troupes at the time, featuring as they did a number of female performers when the majority of such theatre companies still used only male actors even in the female roles. 

The film is bookended by scenes of the play being performed in traditional style in a theatre, but the bulk of the film abandons the kabuki style and features more naturalistic acting. In Yoshimura’s version, The Beauty and the Water Dragon is very much a comedy, and I would assume that it was traditionally played straighter than it is here. In any case, of the 10 Yoshimura films I’ve seen so far, this is my joint favourite alongside his 1951 version of The Tale of Genji, and in my opinion it’s a very fine film quite unlike anything else I’ve seen. Special mention should be made of the beautiful cinematography by Yoshio Miyajima, who later became Masaki Kobayashi’s right-hand man. 

Note about the title:

The complete title is 歌舞伎十八番「鳴神」美女と海龍 / Kabuki juhachiban ‘Narukami’ Bijo to umi ryu, which translates as Kabuki 18 "Narukami": The Beauty and the Water Dragon (the ‘18’ refers to the fact that Narukami is one of the 18 kabuki plays selected by top kabuki actor Danjuro Ichikawa VII [1791-1859] as having special merit).