Showing posts with label Japanese Film Festival in Singapore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japanese Film Festival in Singapore. Show all posts

Sunday, 28 August 2016

[Film] SUZUKI Seijun(鈴木清順)and his films


SUZUKI Seijun --- some snippets about one of the most famous "cult" Japanese directors

Starting next week, Japanese Film Festival 2016 in Singapore will be held at the National Museum of Singapore. This year, there is an SUZUKI Seijun retrospective as a part of the festival. In association with that retrospective, I would like to introduce some snippets which are well known among film fans in Japan.

Here is their website:

“Film is only one time. Like a firework. It blooms in a flash and it vanishes. In that period, who imagined film works would be archived?” ---Suzuki Seijun

Quote in response to the question “Don’t you think of being remembered by future generations?” taken from an interview with Suzuki Seijun about “A Tale of Sorrow and Sadness” (1977).

It is said among Japanese film critics that Suzuki Seijun is a difficult interviewee. He looks cool for his former works. He parries interviewers’ questions. If an interviewer asks him “What is the theme of this film?”, he will just say, “There is no theme. I just received the script from the studio.” or “Well, what is that?” or “Maybe it is as you said” etc… It is hard to tell if Seijun is being humble. We cannot judge he is serious or not.

We tend to think film directors choose directing because they love film. But Suzuki Seijun was not a big film fan. He is not like Akira Kurosawa who wanted to be a painter when he was young. Neither is he like Ichikawa Kon who loved animation and started his film carrier as an animator. After failing a university entrance exam, he entered the Kamakura Academy film department at his friend’s invitation and later, joined Shochiku Studio in 1948. It was a quite tough period for a young man to get a job. According to Seijun himself, “Maybe I felt it was good to join a company, even if it was any company.” He moved to Nikkatsu Studio in 1954 and was promoted from assistant director to full director in 1956.

Regardless whether Seijun loved films or not, he always made his films with all his strength. According to Takeda Kazunari, his former assistant director, Mrs Suzuki once remarked that her husband does not go to bed during the shooting period. Even when drowsy, he was always thinking about the film shoot. He prepared the continuity details for the next day’s shooting, always thinking whether the shot would work or not. Seijun gave his best effort, even when his works in Nikkatsu Studios were ranked as B Grade films, often released as the additional film in a Nikkatsu double bill program. Noro Keisuke, one of his favourite supporting actors, said he gave up memorizing a Seijun’s script because it often changed every morning before shooting.

His works has had a great influence on later film directors, but he does not look to have been influenced by former directors or have been inspired by somebody’s works. His style cannot be explained by ideology. His uniqueness stands alone in Japanese film history. Critics maybe not have had other expressions except for calling his uniqueness “aesthetics”.

Among his remarkable styles, Seijun uses colours, distorted space and time, unconnected shots, mirror reflections. In particular, Seijun uses the unconnected shots, where he jumps between two unconnected shots, from his early works throughout his career. These shots make the storyline difficult to understand, but it also makes his film so much fun to watch. Suzuki Akira, an editor who has worked with Suzuki Seijun since his Nikkatsu era, explained “Seijun does not take acting he does not want to show. He takes only good acting and tries to connect only them. That is why his shots are jumping.” Hasumi Shigehiko, Film scholar mentioned “For example, Masuda Toshio (another Nikkatsu director) takes a scene for “taking a break”. A scene without positive meaning is taken and shown with some feeling. The story then follows. But in Seijun’s films, there are no “taking a break” scenes.” Yamada Koichi, film critic, also said “There is no loose part following orthodox film grammar. For some reason, Seijun just tries to connect only the peak shots.”

Seijun Suzuki was fired from Nikkatsu Studio because of his “Branded to Kill” in 1967. Even before that film, he was sometimes scolded by his studio executives for various reasons. Here are some examples.

Naked Age” (1959)
Film with an old man character, Gon Jii acted by Hidari Bokuzen alongside Spitz, a dog. Spitz was a popular dog at that time, beautiful and well groomed. But the studio executive decided that “It is unnatural for a homeless old man to have a pet dog suited for an upper class family.” Watching this film now, the scenes of the miserable looking old man with a beautiful white fluffy dog have a dreamlike impression. But this clashed with the Studio’s filmic realism, so the most parts of the dog were cut.

Naked Age (1959)
  
The Kanto Wanderer” (1963)
The Studio insisted on adding a new final scene. Seijun’s original last scene was the heroine, Tatsuko (acted by Ito Hiroko) standing at the Japanese style veranda in her house and thinking of the hero, Mitsuo (acted by Kobayashi Akira). But the studio executive asked “Where did Akira go?” So Seijun shot an additional final scene with Akira. Seijun thought it should be understood about what happened on the hero, no explanation required. But as a star film, the Studio needed the ending with the hero.

The Kanto Wanderer (1963)

Tokyo Nagaremono (Tokyo Drifter)” (1966)
The last scene was changed. In the original last scene, there is the green moon and a white tree stump with a red edge. When Seijun made his previous film, “Tattooed Life” (1965), the Studio felt that the climax of that film was too much. They warned him not to exceed that limit. Emori Seijuro, a Nikkatsu Studio executive, was the only executive who always defended Seijun works. When he saw the final scene in “Tokyo Drifter”, he got angry with the green moon. Emori demanded the last scene to be reshot.

Interestingly, Tokyo Drifter was a kind of music film, and Watari Tetsuya, the lead actor, also sang the theme song. As a personal challenge, Seijun wanted to test if he could insert this tune in the film as many times as possible. As a result, the same tune appeared 13 times in different ways in the film. (15 August 2016)

 
Tokyo Nagaremono (1966)

References:

Seijun Eiga” by Suzuki Seijun, edited by Isoda Tsutomu and Todoroki Yukio, published by Wides Shuppan in 2006
Suzuki Seijun Zen Eiga” edited by Ueno Koshi, published by Rippu Shobo in 1986
Suzuki Seijun Kantoku Jisen DVD Box” (vol. 1 and 2) directed by Suzuki Seijun, introduction by Sato Toshiaki, released by Nikkatsu Co. in 2006 and 2007

Sunday, 12 July 2015

[Film] OKAMOTO Kihachi(岡本喜八) and his films


OKAMOTO Kihachi ---a tribute to a director, a master pitching a curve ball

Starting this week, Japanese Film Festival 2015 in Singapore is held at the National Museum of Singapore. This year, there is an OKAMOTO Kihachi retrospective as a part of the festival. In association with that retrospective, I would like to offer a modest introduction on the director, Okamoto Kihachi, focusing on some of his films with war themes from his 27 films screened in the festival.

Here is their website:
  
They can’t even live past 20 years. Sad music for them is too hard.
Send them off with lively music.
Else, they cannot stay dying.
(from “Fort Graveyard” directed by Okamoto Kihachi)

OKAMOTO Kihachi is regarded as the representative “Senchu-ha” director. “Senchu-ha (generation from the war)” refers to the generation who lived and survived through the Second World War in their youth and rebuilt post war Japan through high economic growth. In Okamoto’s “The Elegant Life of Mr. Everyman”, the protagonist, Mr. Eburi described the war years as “the last years of youth”. Okamoto who was 21-year-old at the end of the War, lived as a youth through those war years, living them as his life’s last years, knowing that he will not live long enough to be an adult.

When Japan committed to the Second World War in 1941, Okamoto expected his life span would be for about 23 years. He was then only 17-year-old. After graduated from college, Okamoto joined Toho Movie Co. in 1943, but in the same year, he was commandeered by the military to work as an engineer in a plane factory. The next year, he received his ‘red postcard’ and he joined the army as a military cadet. While he was not dispatched overseas, he had to undergo ridiculous and horrible war training like carrying and running away to set up a heavy box of bomb to the bottom of a tank. In April 29, 1945, the day Okamoto was transferred to the Reserve Military Academy of Toyohashi, the Academy was bombed by one of the Allies air raids. Okamoto saw with his own eyes his fellow cadets dying covered in blood, guts ripped out and legs and arms blown up. In the summer of 1945, upon his discharge from the Academy, he found that half of his old hometown classmates never came back. That was war for Okamoto Kihachi.

Despite this trauma, Okamoto did not bring high-toned ideology into his films. Instead, he made a kicking war action film like Western film, which does not look serious on the surface. That was “Desperado Outpost” in 1959 and its continuing the Desperado Army series. In there, Okamoto made fun of the army rules, of the system; he responded to the absurdity of war with dry humour. For his protagonist outlaws from the military, the main motivation in war was to survive instead of dying for the nation. In expressing war like a game to be played, Okamoto implicated that war is worthless and foolish; Keeping pure excitement and thrill as war action film, observing the ridiculousness of war with a cool and sometimes sarcastic eye. Such Okamoto’s sense was unique, standing out in Japanese film industry where generally to express emotion or sentiment is prevailing.

Beyond the Desperado Army series, another great achievement was a masterpiece, “Fort Graveyard” in 1965. In the worsening situation toward the end of the War, an unheard-of sergeant played by MIFUNE Toshiro led a boys military band in an operation to recover a fort called “Yakiba (a crematory)”. The words mentioned above, “They can’t even live past 20 years…” is said by the sergeant, Mifune in a scene from the film when some of the boy soldiers killed in action were buried.

On the other hand, in the comedy, “The Elegant Life of Mr. Everyman” (1963), Okamoto describes the daily life of Mr. Eburi, a “Senchu-ha” salaryman coping with the generation gap and post war trauma. In the film, Mr. Eburi’s father who belonged to the older generation, reflected the ups and downs of Japan itself in his life. And Mr. Eburi played terrifically by KOBAYASHI Keiju laid bare the feelings of “Senchu-ha” like deep-seated grudge. “The Elegant Life of Mr. Everyman” was seen to be too innovative for the studio. Toho producer, FUJIMOTO Sanezumi was not pleased with this film and scolded Okamoto, describing the film as a “curve ball” with reference to a baseball pitching style. Despite this, the comedy went on to become one of Okamoto’s masterpieces.

Japan’s Longest Day (a.k.a. The Emperor and a General)” (1967) is about the last 24 hours of 15 August 1945, showing the struggle of the military authority, the politicians on the radio broadcasting the Emperor’s edict and the resulting coup d’etat by young officers rejecting the termination of the War. The film is 2 and a half hours long, but Okamoto’s tight direction and speedy editing keeps the story suspenseful throughout. While the film is quite entertaining, Okamoto’s underlying cynical view of war is there. The young officers’ voices bawling to urge the revolt for the continuity of the war sound empty and their pure belief for the nation brings to the audience the madness and horror of war.

After “Japan’s Longest Day (a.k.a. The Emperor and a General)”, Okamoto had an irresistible urge to make “Human Bullet (a.k.a. Nikudan)” (1968). While the former was about the end of the War from the perspective of the leaders, the latter was the end of the War from the viewpoint of a young, unknown and weak soldier unnamed as ‘he’, who is also an alter ego for Okamoto. “Human Bullet (a.k.a. Nikudan)” is a fiction based on Okamoto’s experiences during the war. He made it outside of Toho Studio, sharing the production cost with an independent company for arts film, Art Theater Guild (ATG), owing a debt for that. Like his usual work, “Human Bullet (a.k.a. Nikudan)” makes fun of the army, with humorous sequences involving the last 24 hours leave of a suicide attack soldier. On the other hand, the film is sometimes filled with strong poetry and delicate sorrow not seen in his previous films. By the way, when “Human Bullet (a.k.a. Nikudan)” was produced, Okamoto’s wife, OKAMOTO Mineko ran about borrowing money for the production cost on behalf of her husband. Later Okamoto Mineko became a film producer and continued supporting her husband in production work.

In 1971, Okamoto directed “Battle of Okinawa”, about the only ground battle in Japan where 200,000 people were killed. Working with a limited budget from Toho, Okamoto managed to show the war from both sides of the military and the citizens, describing each character well as an individual while never letting the film become heroic or spectacle.

The entertaining crime comedy, “Rainbow Kids” (1991) was about a 82-year-old granny kidnapped for her huge estate by 3 young amateur criminals. At the last sequence of the film, the granny said to herself “What has the nation been for me?”

In Okamoto’s films, there is a consistent underlying humanism. It does not matter whether it is a war film or not. Like the Japanese proverb “Issun no Mushi nimo Gobu no Tamashi (even a small worm has his own pride; it is similar to a English phrase “even a worm will turn”.)”, it is anger against individual sacrifice for a national polity, condition or authority. But that anger is seldom shown directly. Okamoto tried to make his work entertaining first. In the sprightly rhythm of direction and editing, he made ‘insignificant’ characters lively, sometimes laughing the absurdity of war, sometimes observing the horror of war. In there, Okamoto’s humanism is like a secret pinch, instead of shouting in a loud voice, it arrives engraved in the audience’ heart. (8 July 2015)



References:
Toho Shuppan Jigyo-shitsu (Toho Publishing Department) “Kihachi: Artisan with Four Beat” published by Toho Publishing Department in Japan in 1992
OKAMOTO Kihachi “Majime to Fumajime no Aida (Between Seriousness and Unseriousness)” published by Chikuma Shobo in Japan in 2011