RISING SUN BLUES

Every once in a while a movie comes out, and one thinks, "How did that movie ever get made in that country, then, and what possibly could have been the public's reaction?" Such is the case with Kinji Fukasaku's anti-war film Under the Flag of the Rising Sun (1972). In it he criticizes Japanese actions during World War II as well as poor treatment of abused troops who survived, and cover-ups that allowed war criminals to escape punishment, often at the expense of their soldiers. It also reveals that many common soldiers (in opposition to what you normally hear) wanted to live, rather than sacrifice themselves, and there was criticism of the emperor. War widow Sakie Togashi (played by Sachiko Hidari) year-after-year (once families are allowed to seek support from the government) seeks to find out why she is denied postwar benefits, only to get the run-around and half answers that her husband was executed for desertion. Twenty-six years after the end of the conflict a sympathetic official sends her on a path toward discovering the true events that led to his death, an exploration that reveals the sorry state soldiers were forced to endure, especially as the war turned against them and the government was unable to provide supplies. These deplorable conditions, which result in horrendous acts, complicated by hardline officers who could not accept defeat and were willing to sacrifice their men, must have been difficult for Japanese viewers to stomach (literally), as well as tales of betrayal, disloyalty, desertion, with little of the patriotic sacrifices usually portrayed. The acting is not sterling, though some actors did a good job. The younger generation doesn't want to dwell on these losses, the older generation wants to simply honor their dead, and the government (and others) seems determined to forget or obscure the truth. This is a movie worth trying, far different from much of the fare offered by 1970s Japanese filmmakers. Some issues and scenes are not suitable for younger children (cannibalism, starvation, violence, etc). I didn't much care for the soundtrack, especially the electric organ music at the beginning.

SNOWY CHERRY TREES

Stole this from a blog. Just thought it was pretty. I don't know who to give credit to.

THE MAKIOKA SISTERS

On the eve of World War II in Japan four daughters of a recently deceased shipping magnate struggle with family and marriage issues in the beautifully done The Makioka Sisters (1983), a slowly unfolding movie that speaks to culture, class, and conflict. Two olders sisters, one married to a successful banker and the other to a businessman (who is secretly smitten with one of the younger sisters), attempt to find suitable prospects for their two younger siblings, but the eldest spinster is reluctant and repeatedly passes on proposals that do not suit her (some of which are comical), while the headstrong youngest daughter, who makes and sells gorgeous dolls, wants to forge her own path in love and business. Although some of the photography is well done, the outfits (especially the kimonos) are absolutely wonderful. If anyone studies traditional outfits, they should see this movie. I loved the role of the servants too, who while being deferential also managed to be critical and aware of family conflicts. A good insight into the rituals and expected roles of members of a well-to-do Japanese family.

GRAVE OF THE FIREFLIES

Watched tonight one of the saddest movies, a Japanese anime no less, The Grave of the Fireflies (1988), which amazingly was made twenty-four years ago. Two orphans (Seita and Setsuko), chased from their city by a massive bomber-caused firestorm, struggle to stay alive as Japan faces the reality of losing the war, and as supplies dry up. Starving and soon homeless (after being harrassed from the home of their aunt), the older boy (about 14 or 15 perhaps) does what he can to provide for his innocent younger sister, who is about 4 or maybe up to six, by establishing a home in an abandoned air-raid shelter near a pond, and begs, borrows, and steals to provide food for his gradually sickening sibling. I don't want to spoil anything, but if you are not prepared for a really melancholy movie, I would avoid this one. One of the saddest scenes is when the boy realizes that his sister has understood all along that their mother died (having been told much earlier by a relative), and after holding in the truth to protct her for so long, breaks down and cries. Although there is no overt criticism of U.S. actions, there is the implication that the Americans wreaked unjust havoc on the civilian population in a cruel manner designed particualrly to target innocents (though others would argue that the entire population was trained and prepared to fight to the last person in the even of invasion). In almost a metaphor for the military leadership, the boy is amazed when he discovers that Japan has already lost the war. Despite all the military allusions, there is no acknowledgement of Japanese complicity is starting the war or having engaged in atrocities against foreign populations at all. The strongest message for me however, is the enduring love of an older brother who sacrifices everything to look after his sister, the ability to bear up under repeated disappointments and losses, and the special bond that develops between siblings, and to some extent the strength of very young children to find some joy in a troubled world. I was disappointed me though, in that it seemed to me that someone would have made more of an effort to help these small children, even if they had taken the little girl from the boy. The anime is very good too, especially some of the more magical scenes, and I can see why it is considered a classic. The movie will leave you drained, but at the same time it is a beautiful work of art and I encourage people to try it if they are up to the challenge.

YAKUZA

Watched two Japanese gangster movies recently, one the classic black-and-white Pale Flower (1964) by Masahiro Shinoda, the other the modern Outrage (2010) by Takeshi Kitano. The former is a dark look at an older hitman, Muraki (Ryo Ikebe, who appeared in more than one hundred films), recently released from prison, who as he gets bearings on his freedom meets the carefree, mysterious risk-taking Saeko (played by the lovely Mariko Kaga). Although he has a faithful woman who has waited for him to get released, he is smitten by a beautiful petite gambler with a pert nose and dark eyes, who is willing to risk everything for a little excitement. The movie is visually beautiful, though somewhat dated; some of the scenes do not reach a high level of tension, but the film does not try to glamourize yakuza life either. The latter film reflects more of the violence of our age as well as in the Japanese underworld, as a manipulative Yakuza boss decides to destroy one of his gang offshoots and rival drug dealers, while pitting his underlings against each other. The director (and writer) takes the lead role as the older yakuza, Otomo, as he gets caught up in the machinations and blood flows. No one is safe, and life means little. One overall theme is that gangsters should never get complacent, because there are always underlings ready to take you out and gain the mantle of boss. What is it with the finger cutting however, as both films included this way of signalling one's apologies. Both films show a highly structured and hierachical world, although the freedom and aggresiveness of Saeto flies in the face of societal norms that women are usually portrayed in. Both movies are entertaining, and no doubt Pale Flower is avidly watched by film buffs.

I also watched Kuroneko (1968), a classic Japanese ghost/horror story about two women raped and murdered by samuri (who aren't really that far from yakuza themselves), who are turned into vengeance ghosts by a black cat with the goal of killing and drinking the blood of all samuri, and the son/husband who earns a lucky battlefield promotion to samuri and is sent to quell the monsters. It is about love and honor, and reflects the low esteem samuri had for common folk. Done in black and white, it is an interesting movie.

Dodesuka-den

Watched Akira Kurosawa's Dodesuka-den (1970), an interesting Japanese film about a group of dysfunctional poor families living in what appears to be a dump, or some marginal area on the edge of a city, struggling with mental problems, the ravages of alchohol, marital discord, poverty, homelessness, and machismo run amok. It is a sad movie, heartrending too, and one feels especially for a little boy trying to keep his delusional father alive by begging and picking up scraps; an abused and overburdened niece with a lazy lout of an uncle who rapes her; a young man who lives in the fantasy that he runs a communter trolley; a man with serious tourettes-like symptoms who has a rude. angry wife (though apparently loyal) that he has to defend to his office mates. The only sane fellow in the bunch appears to be an older monk-like engraver, who ventures outside of his hut every so often to steer the crazies back to reality. One storyline in this series of vignettes is about a broken man, apparently the result of an infidelity, whose wife returns but cannot shake him from his stupor and anger to achieve forgiveness. Comedy is provided by two drunk wife-swappers. A chorus of women, who meet around the public spigot to wash clothes, fills in details as they observe their surroundings. What is unclear to me is why, even in this society that appears to provide a smidgen of charity to some in this group, that no one stepped in to help the child who becomes sick with food poisoning (several residents were clearly aware that he was ill and unlikley to get help from his delusional father). I watched a lot of these movies when I was young, and I can't say if the acting was good or bad, especially with the exaggerated style often present in this generation of movies. It is a very personal film, as the viewer goes right into the huts of the downtrodden. I wondered too, if the time period was right after the war, or at some later date that reflected a reality of life few in the West are aware existed.

TONY TAKITANI

Watched tonight an elegant, yet sad, Japanese movie, Jun Ichikawa's Tony Takitani, a homage to loneliness in the guise of a successful mechanical illustrator (played by Issei Ogata) who basically raised himself (the son of an absent jazz musician whose wife died three days after childbirth) and who is used to being alone, until he meets the lovely Eiko (Rie Miyazawa), who is a compulsive buyer of beautiful clothing. When he confront's his wife's compulsion, the movie takes a painful turn. The movie is slowly, deliberately paced and presented as if it were a short story (and indeed, it is based on the work of Haruki Murakami), with wonderful muted scenes that scroll before you told by a narrator, with occasional asides provided by the characters. Not everyone will love this movie, but it is compelling.

FISH STORY

Watching Japanese movies is an acquired taste, I suppose. Perhaps my willingness to do so and find pleasure in them goes back to my earliest television viewing, of Japanese-language shows when I was in kindergarten while my family was stationed in Hawaii. Nevertheless, I do often enjoy them. The toughest part for Americans I think is that the actors often seem artificial and robotic, the dialogue silly, even sometimes the scenes strangely amateurish. Despite some instances of this, FISH STORY (2009) is an enjoyable film about butterfly effect. It is hard to tell what happens without giving away too much, but if you manage to get through the early portions of the movie in which separate experiences are presented, everything will be tied together nicely. Basically, it is about how a pioneering Japanese punk band without a following produces an unusual song (a year before Sex Pistols came along), written partly through the chain of events explained in the end, that will have an impact in possibly saving the world from an impending crash of a comet. At times the movie has a low-budget feel, but some scenes are well done. I think some of the movie was intended to be a tonguein-cheek satire on doomsday preaching, but really it is about the price some artists pay for forward or unconventional thinking, about how small events can have repercussions. There are some storylines that are not fleshed out, and I think the actresses got short-shift for the most part, but overall I liked the movie.

KABEI

Tonight I watched an excellent Japanese film, Kabei: Our Mother, about a mother of two girls whose scholar husband has been arrested by the militaristic government during the invasion of China, and then follows her efforts to provide for her children while remaining loyal to her man. She makes great sacrifices, and gets some help from a sister and a former student of her husband (who falls in love with her). It is a sad movie about the strength of a mother, undying love, the tough times the Japanese people had to suffer for their expansionist dreams, the perils of blind conformity, as well as the goodness and failing of many people. Based on Teruyo Nogami's memoirs, the film is lovingly presented by director Yoji Yamada. Sayuri Yoshinaga is wonderful in the main role, as are the two young actresses who play her daughters. The movie is a wonderful insight into the attitudes and culture of Tokyo during the war. I recommend it.

BALLAD OF NARAYAMA

Life was pretty rough in remote regions of Japan, especially for women and children, as well as everyone not the head-of-household, and communities often struggled to maintain a balance that threatened to collapse with poor harvests or difficult times. The plight of poor Japanese is well represented in Imamura’s The Ballad of Narayama (1983), an award-winning movie of heartrending insight and beautiful cinematography. Too many mouths to feed can result in infanticide (or a child being sold away, which I understand is still a common practice in places such as Thailand and Cambodia), and the aged (anyone making it to 70) are expected to take a pilgrimage to the sacred mountain where they are exposed to the elements and left to die (sometimes unwillingly). The social structure that privileged heads of household, left the young and female vulnerable, and relegated most everyone to inferior status. Younger brothers could only hope for hard work, deference, and occasional opportunities for happiness (for example, sex). Ballad is primarily about a grandmother, embarrassed by her good fortune in health, who is approaching her own trip to the mountainside (willingly) and is tying up loose ends and preparing a new daughter-in-law for her role as a matriarch. The movie pulls few punches and openly shows the realities of infanticide, patricide, violence, deviant sexuality, hardship, and misogyny. Yet, it also shows the high level of responsibility, sacrifice, cooperation, humor, and order that kept total destruction at bay.
For a foreign viewer or individual not well versed in Japanese culture (such as myself), this movie can be a troubling experience. The punishment of an entire family (being buried alive) for stealing is partially understandable in a society whose existence is so close to the edge, but it was extreme and cruel, especially to the innocent victims (as it seems the actions of one family member is applied to the entire clan). Women have little say in how they are sexually treated. Children, especially girls, are treated little better than calves (an opportunity to make money). The scene where the salt merchant is marching away a small group of children is emotionally heartrending. A widow forced to have sex with the lesser males in the community to atone for the sin of her husband is appalling. The film does show what the domestic life was like, unvarnished.
I am amazed that no one got frostbite in this film. I also thought it interesting that there seemed to be no official (ie, police or local government) presence portrayed. The photography is often beautifully done, though the interspersed nature scenes were roughly cut in, and there seemed to be a special interest in snakes (all seemingly trying to relate that what was going on in the village was just part of the natural order of things). The acting was excellent, especially Sumiko Sakamoto as grandmother Orin.

JAPAN

It is hard to watch the reports and video from the earthquake and devastating tsunami that crashed upon the north-eastern part of the Japanese islands, a crushing wall of mud, sea, and debris that swept nearly everything in front of it, as deep as six miles into the interior, right through numerous cities, towns, and farmland. How fragile we truly are. One haunting video was shot by an American who luckily drove through a doomed city and reached safety, but the images of townsfolk stepping out of their businesses and homes and looking off toward the sound that must have been the wave, when you know they have little hope in a very short time, really affected me. The sight of a stunned woman sitting with a towering pile of rubble behind her was heart-rending. I can't even think about all the people---especially children---suddenly engulfed in the tide. Surely, there are hundreds of heroic stories, many which will never be known, of individuals who sacrificed to save others. I am humbled by the capacity of the Japanese to absorb such a tragedy and yet remain calm and helpful. One knows that would not be the case here, for the most part. Of course, we have many selfless and heroic people who would step up in commendable ways, but I doubt it would be as impressive and universal as what I have seen from the Japanese. It is daunting to think about the effort it will take to clear that mess, to find the bodies, to locate the missing (hopefully to be reuntied alive, and if not, given proper final rites). Thankfully, all of the families of those friends of mine from Japan seem to have escaped. Now, if the authorities can just stop the meltdown.

BOOTLEG FILM

Masahiro Kobayashi's Bootleg Film (1999) is an interesting, if not completely satisfying, movie about two old friends (one an older yakuza gangster, the other a former policeman) who are travelling by car to attend the funeral of a woman (the gents' lover and wife, respectively). In many ways a cheap fascimile of Tarantino films (which the director repeatedly makes homage to, as well as several other famous American movies), the almost slapstick, bumbling pair argue almost incessantly about the woman and her true affections. Complicating matters further is the prescence of the yakuza's brother (murdered by his older sibling) in the trunk, and the discovery of this fact by a hapless couple that arrive at a rest stop at the same time as the protagonists. The film is in black & white, and most of the scenes sparse and cold (possibly reflecting the budget), but it works well visually. Unfortunately, the humor was often lost on me, proabably due to translation, though often the acting was too, well, excitable (?). Some portions were simply inexplicable (though they may have had some symbolism to Japanese viewers). Overall it was a decent film, but not first rate.

DEPARTURES

Tonight, I watched a beautiful Japanese movie, Departures, (2008) by Yojiro Takita. A cellist (played by Masahiro Motoki), forced to make a career change, stumbles into the profession of preparing the deceased for their cremation. It is simply a wonderful film with great, well-performed roles that speaks to dignity, forgiveness, honor, love, and regret; the Japanese way of honoring their dead is absolutely lovely and perfect. I was greatly impressed. I cried at least four times. The story is also about finding your place in the world and a profession that suits you and then taking pride in doing that job right; accepting and supporting the ones you love, and coming to grips with past wrongs; honoring the people who helped you; community; and accepting the step at the end of life that is a gateway to another existence. Ryoko Hirosue and Tsutomu Yamazaki were wonderful in their parts. Kimiko Yo, who plays the secretary, was very good too. Not only were depictions of the ceremonies portrayed beautifully, but the scenery was breathtaking as well. I really encourage people to watch this movie; I am certain you will not be disappointed.

JAPANESE CATS

Just watched a nice documentary titled The Cats of Mirikitani, about Jimmy Mirikitani, a scrappy, independent eighty-year old Japanese-American artist who was living on the streets of New York City and doing his paintings and drawings (staying at this time at night in the enclosed plastic flower display area owned by a Korean shopkeeper), until the filmmaker happens upon him and ends up taking him home and assisting him to get into better housing (initially as a result of the results of the 9/11 disaster that happened as she was filming him nearby), while recording his work and memories. He was born in Sacramento and interned at Tule Lake during WWII, and that experience heavily influenced his art. He was separated from his family and apparently had not communicated to any of them (most of his mother's family were killed at Hiroshima) for more than 50 years, as he moved east (first somewhat forced to work on a farm, and then to New York, where he claimed to have cooked for Jackson Pollack and served as a chauffeur in NYC). The film is a loving portrait of an artist and tough man, and in the end he forgives his anger after visiting Tule and reconnecting with his sister. His art is amazing (and one wonders how great he could have been if he had been allowed freedom and wasn't discriminated against).

JAPAN FOLLIES

For anyone who enjoys the humor-laced travelogues of British writer Michael Palin or American Bill Bryson, I heartily recommend adding the work of Canadian Will Ferguson to your list. Although this recommendation is based solely on the highly entertaining Hitching Rides with Buddha, I suspect that I will be delving into his other books soon in hopes they are as good as this effort. Ferguson, who taught English in Japan and is workably fluent in Japanese, decides to hitchhike from the southern end of the island(s) country to its northern –most point, roughly corresponding with the seasonal flowering of the sakura (cherry trees). Largely comprised of small vignettes covering successive rides or stays in different locations, Ferguson deftly lays bare (nay---punctures) many of the myths and attitudes held by Japanese about their country, people, and standing in the world, as well as their fascination/disgust/fear of the outside world, especially America. What emerges is a land of diversity; of people with enormous generosity, friendliness, wonder, balanced by narrow-mindedness, racist-thinking, and over-inflated egos. No doubt there will be some in Japan who will call for his passport to be permanently confiscated and his carcass banned from reentry (what would he care! He stole his wife from them already) because of his often less-than-flattering portrayal, but it seems to me that he has a great deal of affection and respect for the people, even while puncturing their contradictions and egomanias. The Japanese come off often as something akin to enthusiastic, cautious, conformist plowhorses with their blinders firmly affixed. While the author has penned standard travel-guide material, this account will keep you laughing, while at the same time open your eyes to a wonderful and contradictory nation.

OBASAN

In this time of bubbling racism and bigotry that percolates from the murky depths of hatred and narrow-mindedness, blinding Americans to the constitutional rights of citizenship and freedom of religion, it is a good thing to read of past mistreatment of minorities in this country (and in other countries as well). The forced internment of loyal Japanese Americans from western states is a terrible blight on American history, and it is fairly familiar to most schoolchildren, largely because of books such as Houston’s Farewell to Manzanar.

But the mistreatment of citizens of Japanese descent also occurred in Canada---in some ways parallel to that experienced in the United States, in other ways more severe and long-lasting. Along the western coastline, their property was confiscated (if not outright looted) and the victims were forced into holding facilities or to locations in the interior. Some could argue that it was necessary for wartime protection, but what happened thereafter was an even greater crime, as they were forbidden to return to their homes and farms following the war, and were made to disperse throughout the country or return to Japan. This story is forcefully and beautifully recounted in Joy Kogawa’s Obasan (more a memoir than a piece of fiction), which has become her best-known work.

Kogawa’s primary skill is poetry, and it shows in her prose. She lovingly, yet firmly, portrays the plight and resilience of a family as it deals with separation and loss, both of individuals and community (not once, but twice). An example of her prose is, “The dust, light-winged as soot, is swarming thickly across the flashlight beam. . . everything, I suppose, turns to dust eventually. A man’s memories end up in some attic or in a Salvation Army bin. His name becomes a fleeting statistic and his face is lost in fading photographs, the clothing quaint, the anecdotes gone. . . Potent and pervasive as a prairie dust storm, memories and dreams seep and mingle through cracks, settling on furniture and into upholstery. . .” Kogawa frequently shifts from the narrative into sidebars of near poetry.

The story is told through the eyes of Naomi, a kindergarten-aged child, as she struggles to understand the loss of her parents (father was a doctor) and grandparents [as well as her encounter with a pedophiliac neighbor before the war], as her aunt (and later uncle) and neighbors are relocated to Slocum. The mystery of her mother’s fate, trapped in Japan when she goes just before the outbreak of hostilties to care for her sick parent and never returns, is slowly revealed. Her father manages to return, for a short while, but then likewise disappears from their lives. She is forced to live in a small home nestled near a mountainside, but at least they still have a community. After the war this community is destroyed and dispersed, and (as if they are being punished for their heritage) they are forced to labor on a beet farm (“perhaps some genealogist [sic?] of the future will come across this patch of bones and wonder why so many fishermen died on the prairies.”). Luckily, she has the loving care of her Obasan (aunt) and uncle (a master boatbuilder and carpenter), as well as her music-loving brother (determined to ignore his Japanese roots as much as possible). Although the story is sad, heartrending, there is also much beauty and love in it. I will likely try the sequel, Itsuka.

TOKYO SONATA

The disintegration of a family is never easy to witness, and it seems even more disturbing when it is a Japanese family (well hinted at in the opening scene as a storm rolls in), because of the rigid need to maintain authority and keep up appearances. One of the benefits of watching foreign films is hopefully getting a glimpse into the workings of the world, and I was distrubed and interested by Kiyoshi Kurosawa's Tokyo Sonata (2008), as the viewer watchs a newly downsized middle-manager struggle to control his household and find employment commesurate with what he had once held. Although homelessness and unemployment are fairly well known in America, it somehow comes as a small shock when you see its portrayal in Japan. But several aspects of the film left me cold, and, even angry. The main character (played by Teruyuki Kagawa) is not a likeable fellow, and I don't think he was likable even before he lost his job. I certainly did not like the way he treated his wife, almost indifferently (one of the best and moving scenes is when she asks of help getting up from a couch, and yet her husband is so self-absorbed that he has already walked away), though she struggles to maintain a beautiful home and provide all the motherly responsibilities to him and their two sons. Taking into account some of the violence against his youngest son is partly a result of his emotional implosion from having to take demeaning (for him) employment (which I applauded actually, because he was willing to do it for his family, even if it hurt, rather than take an easier, more permananet, way out), he still does not seem one who could handle any threat to his authority. In fact, while not directly stated, I think he lost his job partly because he would not accept a downward position, which I know can be hard for anyone. His two sons both seem to have little real respect for him, want to get away from him. One decides to join the US military and the other attempts to play piano, despite dad's expressed refusal to alllow it on both counts. The younger one is especially bright and will fight against unchecked, overbearing authority, either by his teacher or father. The mother (played by a very lovely Kyoko Koizumi) is faithful and stalwart in keeping the family runnign along, even whne she knows her husband is lying to her. She maintains his authority and doesn't challenge him (can it truly be like that, or is she a weak character?), even when she could have blunted or even stopped him from certain of his decisions. The filmmaker, im think, tries to show that the father has redeeming qualities, such as his taking the poorer job, standing in handout lines, and givign back lost cash he has found, but it never really works, even the part in many western films where the father grudgingly acknowledges some special talent one of his offspring has exhibited. Basically, I just didn't like the guy. Even the piano teacher (Haruka Igawa), who should have been a more likeable character, just doesn't seem to pull it off. In the end, I enjoyed the movie for the most part, but I wouldn't place it in the highest rank. I wonder how my Japanese friends reacted to it, as I am sure there were cultural clues that simply went over my head.