Sincere Heart (1953) User Reviews

It's Not Man Kobayashi Rages Against, But G*d

[boblipton · 6/10 · 24 August 2019]

Akira Ishihama has never spoken to Hitomi Nozoe. She a poor girl who lives with her sister in the cheap apartment building, just opposite his window in his upper middle class home. Some times she looks out her window as he looks out his, and they smile shyly at each other. She is dying of a lung disease, goes the local gossip. He is studying hard to get good enough grades to go to college. His father promises him whatever he wants if he passes. Ishihama wants to send her to a sanitarium, but his father is doubtful. He worries his son is being played for a sucker, but agrees: if he passes, he'll pay.

Masaki Kobayashi's second movie as a director has a script by his friend Keisuke Kinoshita, but his handling is far from Kinoshita's. The problem lies not in the people, all of whom are well meaning and kind -- Yasushi Nagata as Miss Nozoe's evil uncle aside; his appearance at her building causes her to rush in terror into the snowy Christmas landscape and collapse in front of a Christian Church. The problem is G*d's intentions, as indicated by the opposing strains of two of Bach's pieces: "Air on the G String", a piece which celebrates G*d's love, and "Toccata & Fugue in D Minor", a piece which celebrates the mystery and anger of the Lord. Surely the fact that Ishihama's family is Christian makes this a significant choice for Chûji Kinoshita, who scored the movie. It's not the evil and self-serving power structure who threaten Miss Nozoe, and whom Ishihama must struggle against. It's G*d and textbooks. Or perhaps this is simply His goad to force Ishihama to study for His purposes.

Clearly Kobayashi's associates wanted this movie to succeed; that's probably why his cousin, Kinuyo Tanaka, took a supporting role. With its familiar themes of young, unrequited love, it's a little soppy for my taste, and the symbolism is laid on heavily, but it's very well done.

Melodrama done very well

[davidmvining · 8/10 · 27 May 2022]

Masaki Kobayashi had the job. He was a director in the Japanese film industry now. As a gift, his mentor, Keisuke Kinoshita, gave him the script for a film called Sincerity that Kobayashi made his next project. I've read this described as a hybrid film between Kinoshita and Kobayashi, but I can't really expand on that because I've never seen a Kinoshita film. I can say that there do seem to be some of Kobayashi's concerns about the individual in unjust systems in some form, but this is more purely a family melodrama. I don't say that negatively. This is a very high-quality melodrama.

Hiroshi (Akira Ishihama) is preparing for his university entrance exams, but he's a bit directionless. He plays on a rugby team and would play every day if he could. He can't find his way to study, even when his father has hired a tutor, Mr. Yajima (Teiji Takahashi), to help him who also seems to be trapped in an inevitable but undeclared courtship with Hiroshi's older sister Midori (Keiko Awaji). The family is well off, being able to provide every comfort to Hiroshi on his path towards the real world. His father is an executive at a large firm. He has a personal tutor. He never goes hungry with his grandmother cooking pork every night. Life for Hiroshi is good, and he really has no idea.

Across the alley by his street is a less than spectacular apartment building, and into the apartment directly across from his window moves Fumiko (Hitomi Nozoe), a pretty invalid with an advanced case of tuberculosis. Fumiko's older sister is running away from their predatory uncle through the good graces of a male friend with whom she makes doe eyes that will lead to the inevitable marriage between them (they're very minor characters, so this predictability is fine). Hiroshi becomes smitten by the girl across the alley, and it's one of those movie romances where nothing is said but everything is understood. I absolutely love it. The romance between the two, as Hiroshi learns of her presence, they learn a bit of each other's characters through their shyness and limited interactions, and some wonderful visual bits (Hiroshi plays with the reflection of the sun from a hand mirror that attracts her attention through her window, and, during Christmas, she makes her hand-crafted decorations of animals dance for him). It's all the sweeter because they never speak.

Things turn a bit on Christmas. Amidst the snow and carols (sung in both Japanese and English), Fumiko's uncle finds her, driving her to run out into the cold night. Found by Hiroshi's rugby coach coincidentally while Hiroshi waits for him to give him a last-minute Christmas present, the two bring her back and Hiroshi and Fumi get their one scene in the same room together, and it's the moment where Hiroshi learns the extent of her rumored illness. She's not just sick, she's within months of death. She needs help, much more than her sister's fiancé can provide to her. So, Hiroshi runs to his father and asks him if he meant it when he said he would give Hiroshi whatever he wanted if he got into university. Of course he meant it, but when Hiroshi asks for money to help someone he doesn't know, can't give the name of, and won't provide any further information, his father resists. It seems reckless and ill-advised, the impulsive request of a youth who could be getting bilked. He doesn't quite say no, but he's also not throwing money at Hiroshi.

Hiroshi is undaunted, though. He's got his mission. He will get into university to save Fumiko. He studies, and he studies. He's more dedicated to his work than ever before. He barely interacts with the outside world, but Fumiko is getting no better. Weak, and without any hope for surviving much longer, Fumiko asks her sister and brother-in-law to let her see the sun from her window one last time. She can't see the sun, they insist. Their apartment window faces north, and they can never see the sun or the moon. She doesn't mean the literal sun, and, sitting up with assistance, she looks out the window as a gust of wind (perhaps the hand of God) pushes in Hiroshi's window so that they can see each other one last time. Hiroshi doesn't know what he's seeing, but he can read her lips when she mouths, "goodbye" to him. This is really great stuff. I mean, it's pure melodrama, but it works so wonderfully well. The heart of this film, the silent relationship between Hiroshi and Fumiko is marvelous.

The resolution is melodramatic to the point where I think it undoes some of the good of the film's earlier scenes. Everyone ends up crying by the end, even those who had no idea of the relationship between the two or even knowledge of the sickly girl at all. However, it ends on a wonderful note as Hiroshi works out his anger and sadness by demanding a rugby match with his coach.

An interesting thing to note is the presence of Western cultural iconography and music in the film. Youth of the Son was filled with American iconography, but the music here is almost all Bach and there is a prominent place for Christianity, offering up solace in a hard world. I can't find anything about the personal religions of either Kobayashi or Kinoshita, so it's interesting to see the minority religion of Christianity in Japan featured so prominently. Kobayashi was early in his career and working from someone else's script, so I don't think there's a lot to dig into that would point to his personal views, but I find it interesting nonetheless.

Still, I felt things through that quiet relationship between Hiroshi and Fumiko. I loved that central relationship. The movie around it was a bit messier (the fiancé subplot never really comes to anything, for instance), but not nearly enough to diminish my love for the film. This is a small triumph in Kobayashi's early career, making evident that he was a solid technical director who could find emotion in a script and effectively direct his performers.

Excellent (Very) Early Kobayashi Film

[Grethiwha · 9/10 · 21 January 2013]

Masaki Kobayashi's first couple films, this and his 45-minute debut "Youth of the Son", were highly influenced by Kobayashi's mentor, Keisuke Kinoshita, who supervised the whole production of "Youth of the Son" and who wrote the screenplay for this film, "Sincere Heart". Kinoshita's films, as I understand, were more sentimental, and that shows in these films. But already with this one, I see Kobayashi starting to come into his own.

"Youth of the Son" was a cute film. It's such an overly joyous affair, it's so corny, that I should have found it cringe-worthy, but I have to admit, it made me smile. It has a similar appeal to that of an Ozu film such as "Good Morning" (and even features favourite Ozu actor Chishû Ryû), but sillier, and not quite on that level of quality. Still, it was a good film. There was just nothing in it that I recognized as Kobayashi. It lacked an edge. It was too benign. There was no angst!

"Sincere Heart" is quite a bit more interesting. The same baby-faced lead actor from "Youth of the Son" is back -- Akira Ishihama, who I did not realize until afterwards was Motome Chijiiwa in "Harakiri" (!) -- and for much of the film, "Sincere Heart" feels very much like "Youth of the Son". But then, in the second half, the film reveals its edge. There's a certain cynicism in the film, about class differences, and in this I recognize Kobayashi. But the film is still sentimental, its Kinoshita influence is still strong, and the result of this hybridization of styles is quite an effective little tearjerker.

The film is not as good as Kobayashi's masterpieces "The Human Condition", "Harakiri", "Kwaidan" or "Samurai Rebellion", nor is it the best of his less widely-seen works, but it's an excellent early film that deserves to be seen by more people.