topitimo-829-270459 Reviews

Misemono okoku (1937)

Day in the city...

[6/10 · 7 April 2021]

Takamine Hideko made this film while she was 13, towards the end of her days as a child star but well before her best work. In "Misemono okoku" Takamine and her family arrive to Tokyo from the countryside on a tourist bus. We see a bunch of sites, modern buildings and Japanese ones, while cozy American-styled music plays in the background. The family ends up in a fairground, where the wallet of the father gets stolen while he is about to buy a doll for the daughter. The rest of the film - which is a loose narrative to say the least - wonders around the fairground on a sunny day and shows us the multitude of things therein.

The film was directed by Matsui Minoru, who made a total of 18 films. I have seen none, so I am unable to make comparisons, but Matsui did begin his career as an assistant director for Shimizu and Naruse, both of whom have more ambition in their weaker entries than this film. "Misemono okoku" is harmless, there is nothing offensive about it, but it feels like we are killing time here. Anything can be thrown in to get the film to a full hour's duration: circus, kabuki plays, musical theatre, you name it. Besides Takamine, the film stars the popular chubby character actor Kishii Akira, with whom Takamine played siblings in the following year's "Niji tatsu oka", which was also not a masterpiece, but a much more interesting film to watch through.

Good Sam (1948)

Lack of perfection is not a crime.

[7/10 · 29 December 2020]

Oh, where to begin with "Good Sam" (1948). It is widely agreed, that the film broke Leo McCarey's 10+ year streak of masterful films. McCarey, who directed and produced the film while also contributing to the story, would never truly recover from this blow, and his subsequent filmography includes three debated entries and one successful re-make of an old McCarey classic. "Good Sam" is therefore an easy film to glance over, as it returned its maker back amidst the mortals. It is also unlike most American comedies of the time, which may have been the reason why the same critics who loved "Make Way for Tomorrow" (1937) and "Going My Way" (1944) did not warm up to the way similar themes are tossed around in "Sam".

Gary Cooper plays Sam Clayton, a clean-cut, post-war family man loved by his community. Sam is the kindest man you could find, always willing to help anybody in distress as best he can. In another Cooper film, a character like this would be viewed as the ideal that we should all emulate, but McCarey is here to show the other side. Sam's constant helping of others grows to be a strain on his family, who are unable to lead a normal life because of it. He borrows people money while his own family lacks the money to buy a proper house for themselves. He is constantly finding new "characters" who benefit from his good nature, much to the suffering of Sam's wife Lu, played by Ann Sheridan.

I think "Good Sam" is a fantastic premise, as the central dilemma is something that all people will - and should! - sometimes have to consider. Helping others is important, it is a central aspect of what defines us as human. But empathy is only good when the behavior of others mirrors it, otherwise a good man can end up being used. I like the fact that the film does not play all its cards immediately, but gives us different view points. Considering that the film is trying both to be funny and to be moving and frustrating, it reached these goals with me. I laughed, I was moved, and I definitely was frustrated...

Where does it fall flat then? It is hard to pinpoint really. The film starts off very comedic. Ann Sheridan gives a wonderful performance as the housewife pushed to the edge, and Cooper's buffoonish behavior and general inability to read his lady is certainly a fitting catalyst for Sheridan's wrath. The characters are well-established as they both get laughs and serve as each other's straight men. But as the film went on, I started to feel that the comedic nature of the main dilemma does not fit to the everyday realism of the narrative. McCarey has taken delightfully comedic characters and inserted them to a very serious film. And it is the mismatch of it all that breaks the experience. There is both serious comedy and funny melodrama here, and someday someone will call this a forgotten masterpiece, but for me the whole is shaky even if the parts work.

There is also individual elements that clash, the worst of which being the inclusion of a suicide subplot that gets treated as if killing yourself is not a big deal in the slightest. The woman in question (Joan Lorring) attempts to kill herself because she fell in love with a treacherous married man, and the film lets Sheridan shame her, while simultaneously suggesting, that the cure for this woman is to find a nice, unmarried man and get married. How very psychological indeed. Lorring also gives the film's worst performance, as she is way too polished for a suicidal woman.

"Good Sam" also resembles better films, and feels therefore worse than it is. Billy Wilder's "The Apartment" (1960) is a more famous serious comedy about a guy who gets taken advantage of, also including a more believable suicide-attempt narrative, treated with respect to the sore subject matter. Yet the film that "Good Sam" will bring to mind for most is Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life" (1946), another tale about an every-man who is always helping others but can't catch a break for himself. McCarey's film also finds its protagonist in a bar, on Christmas. Compared to George Bailey, Sam Clayton looks very two dimensional.

Even with all the negative sides addressed, "Good Sam" is easily worth a watch. McCarey is one of the all time greats and lack of perfection is not a crime. His film carries serious merit and is very ambitious, and although I mentioned two similar films, it actually does stand out from a crowd with its style and subject.

Ani imôto (1936)

Feels more fresh than the Naruse version.

[8/10 · 17 November 2020]

"Ani imôto" (Older Brother, Younger Sister, 1936) is an adaptation of the story by Muro Saisei, that was later filmed by Naruse Mikio (1953) and Imai Tadashi (1976). Though the director of this first version, Kimura Sotoji, is by no means as famous a filmmaker as Naruse or even Imai, I would call this the definitive take. Kimura was not one of Japan's more prolific filmmakers, as he made a relatively modest 26 films between 1930 and 1962. 1930's was his busy decade, and this early sound film is a positive introduction to him. Kimura had previously worked as an assistant director for the famous proletariat-film "Nani ga kanojo o sô saseta ka" (What Made Her Do It?, 1930) and whereas "Ani imôto" is not as scandalous or as overtly dramatic, it does show some similarities and features cinematography heavily inspired or reminiscent of the Soviet films of the era.

I had previously seen the Naruse film and thought it was good, but not great. You could clearly see that Naruse was working with old material, as the characters felt thin for post-war individuals and the plotline felt more dramatic than it had any need to be. I prefer the Kimura version because it feels more fresh with its material. Another winning ingredient is that this is more of a class depiction, full of social realism about the conditions of Japan's poorest workers. It does still have the same story about the sister getting pregnant and the brother hating her for it, but it is mixed in with other elements which makes the film feel more fulfilling than the Naruse version, which is one third longer. I did not recognize much of the actors in the Kimura film, and possibly that is a win for Naruse, but all in all I was surprised about the quality of the 1936 film, considering that it is by such an unknown director.

So I would recommend this to fans of 1930's Japanese films and for people who want to see Soviet style depiction of workers. I think the way this film has been put together technically resonated with me more, than the narrative material it has going for it.

Nihon kengô den (1945)

Better than average war-time chanbara film, with a Zatoichi-ish plotline.

[7/10 · 7 November 2020]

"Nihon kengo den" (Duel at Yagyu Valley, 1945) is a Toho studios chanbara film with big stars and nice scenery. The film was penned by Mimura Shintaro and directed by Takizawa Eisuke, and was probably made with a considerably smaller budget than usual, money being tight because of the war situation in the spring of 1945. It manages to turn the financial short-comings into an advantage however, as the bulk of the film has been made outdoors in locations with refreshing scenery. It also has big jidai-geki stars, that many fans will recognize.

I would guess that the American censors later cut a bunch of the film, as it now is less than an hour in duration. This hour did not include propaganda though, and for genre fans, this is an easy film to digest. The plot-line is basic, and resembles a lot of the Zatoichi films of the 1960's. We have a wonderer from the house of Hosoin, who is an expert in martial arts, fencing included. He arrives to this region with forests and mountains and meets a bunch of bad guys, or at least opposing characters who are just hanging out in the forest, waiting for someone to come so that they could practice fencing, I guess. He doesn't want to oblige them, so they pick on the next guy who comes along, ending up killing the poor dude. The protagonist meets the brother and sister of the guy who died, and the killers are trying to frame our main guy for the murder. However, this story-line does not take too long to come to an end, and after he has settled things, the protagonist goes to a more official match with an opponent of note. I won't spoil the ending, but it was unusual: probably my favorite thing in the movie.

The film is nothing amazing, as a story, but because of the short length, it was pretty watchable. Fujita Susumu from Kurosawa's "Sugata Sanshiro" (1943) is also in the film. Last year, I watched director Takizawa's previous film "Ina no Kantaro" (1943), and "Nihon kengo den" is certainly the better film. However, it is considerably tame and light, compared to post-war chanbara films, and even in 1945, Mizoguchi's "Meito bijomaru" and Kurosawa's "Zoku Sugata Sanshiro" were somewhat better films.

The General Died at Dawn (1936)

Starts off very strong...

[7/10 · 29 October 2020]

Between masterworks such as "All Quiet on the Western Front" (1930) and "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers" (1945) the Moldovan born Lewis Milestone had a mixed career. He made a bunch of good movies, a bunch of bad ones, and several bunches of films that have just been forgotten. Somewhere in here we also encounter "The General Died at Dawn" (1936), an interesting adventure film set in China. The film features the first screenplay by Clifford Odets, then one of the hottest playwrights around. Even though the film boasts a charismatic ensemble of actors, it often feels like the real star here is the screenplay.

The movies opens very strong. We are introduced to the plight of the poor Chinese, who struggle against a ruthless warlord General Yang, played by Akim Tamiroff in an Oscar-nominated role. Gary Cooper is our idealist hero, a guy who could never catch an even break, and is now trying to give the Chinese one. Coop is something of a spy, carrying important money shipment to the people fighting Yang, but unfortunately Yang has his own spies and is very much on to him...

I would go as far as to call the first half an hour (or so) of this film a masterpiece. Coop is introduced wonderfully, he has a monkey named Sam as a sidekick, and the whole train sequence, featuring the female lead Madeleine Carroll, and eventually Tamiroff as Yang, is wonderfully written. The suspense of the narrative feels real, but the screenplay also has time to be witty and funny. Cooper gets great lines, and throws a few unexpected (yet so enjoyable) punches around as well. I laughed a bunch and was rooting for the hero, rooting for the film really.

Unfortunately after the first third of the film, the narrative takes several missteps. All the important characters go their different ways for too long of a period, and by the time they are all in the same space again, the film has lost its momentum. The ending is not bad, but it is nothing breathtaking either. The film also runs into some trouble, when it can't quite decide, how it wants to portray General Yang and his men.

Still, I would very much recommend this to fans of classic Hollywood. Cooper gets a really good role as our hero, and Tamiroff is very memorable as Yang. Tamiroff was originally Armenian, so in Hollywood-land, that will have to pass as Chinese. I do, however, seriously wish they hadn't turned poor Dudley Digges into Mr. Wu. That was a bit cringe-worthy.

The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935)

Hate it for the imperialism. Love it for the bromance.

[8/10 · 25 October 2020]

"The Lives of a Bengal Lancer" (1935) is a massive adventure film that Paramount planned for a long time before finally getting it done in 1935. The film, which boasts five credited writers for the screenplay with three un-credited ones, takes its title and location from a book by Francis Yeats-Brown, though not much else remains. It was directed by Henry Hathaway and puts his outdoors-kind of style to good use. This here is a very masculine tale of heroism, bromance and the call of duty. It also paints a highly flattering portrait of British imperialism in India, due to which it was a massive hit in The United Kingdom.

Let's talk about the bad sides first, that being the historical context and the problematic way it is presented here. The film starts almost directly from a battle. The Bengal Lancers are British troops fighting (evil) Muslims in the northern regions of India. From today's perspective, "the natives" of this film are resistance fighters, people who are trying to liberate their land. The opening almost turned me away, because it gives no reason for the British to be in India. It sort of assumes that the audience is in agreement, that it is the right of the British to be there, and to give the Indians a taste of their military might. The natives are presented as either simple, or evil and it's not a good look for the film. Hitler himself was a fan of the picture, according to Wikipedia, because it presents the white race as superior to the Indian natives. This aspect of the film has not aged well at all, but then again you must remember that 1935 was a long time ago. And if you are willing to put aside the glorification of imperialism, you will get a very good action adventure film in return.

Gary Cooper plays a Scottish Canadian officer in the Bengal Lancers. He is rough and tough, but also a kind of idealist, who often gets in trouble with superior officers when they do not agree about something. Two new soldier arrive, those being the jovial Franchot Tone and the wet-behind-the-ears Richard Cromwell. The film then becomes a story of their blossoming bromance and a highly entertaining one at that. Gradually, more dramatic things, including a villain, take hold of the narrative. At that point, we are so well acquainted with our main trio, that the character build-up makes their adventures more interesting.

Though most of this was filmed nowhere near India, it has a sense of exotism to it. The plot-line is good and improves towards the ending. Mostly though, the charm of the film lies in the characters. Cooper has a part that fits him very well, he is super masculine and a born leader for his buddies. Cromwell's youthful presence is a good contrast to this, and he has a nice arc in the film. But it is Franchot Tone who walks away with the film. Tone is so likable in this, sort of a British every-man. The scene with the cobra alone makes this film a winner. Tone had a knockout year in 1935, beginning the year with this film, and closing it with "Mutiny on the Bounty".

All in all, I would recommend this to fans of classic Hollywood who can look past the racist depiction of certain people and institutions, if the film is good enough.

Ongaku dai-shingun (1943)

Typical WWII morality booster.

[7/10 · 20 October 2020]

During the war, many Japanese directors of noteworthy reputations had to make propagandist films with a nasty aftertaste; films, that looked very awkward after the war, when militaristic nationalism was a taboo. Those directors include the likes of Shimizu Hiroshi, Imai Tadashi, Kinoshita Keisuke and even Kurosawa Akira. Then again, not all Japanese propaganda was militaristic and aggressive. Japan, like most countries that fought in the war, also produced light entertainment to keep up the morality of the home-front, and in this genre, a film by a little-appreciated director like Watanabe Kunio can actually compete qualitatively with the legends of cinema, whose films at the time included xenophobic manipulation of the masses.

"Ongaku dai-shingun" (Music March, 1943) is a prime example of the lighter side of Japanese war propaganda. It shows us the idyllic home-archipelago and the common people of Japan, with a purposefully light and inconsequential plot-line, that is there simply to form a bridge of sorts between the various musical numbers. I've seen plenty of Japanese musicals from the time, and this one feels most international in its style. In my home country Finland, we had many such films that mixed popular music numbers with somewhat dumb comedic bits - and not just during the war! There are some big stars appearing in the film like Takamine and Hasegawa, and through this it also resembles American war-time morality boosters like "Thank Your Lucky Stars" (1943).

"Ongaku dai-shingun" is better than much of the Japanese competition, because it mixes things up, and in so doing, keeps it interesting. There is different kinds of numbers, from instrumentals to choir singing, to duets and solos, as well as dancing. The choreography of the dance numbers is no more special than the basic physical comedy we get to witness between the songs, but the songs themselves had some nice melodies. The atmosphere is very pleasant, and there is not much propagandist elements to object even from a modern perspective. The film is nothing special, but interesting nonetheless.

Forget Love for Now (1937)

If melodramas about mom-shaming are your thing...

[6/10 · 19 October 2020]

1937 was a busy year for Japanese cinema, and films were produced in quick pace, often impacting the quality. Shimizu Hiroshi turned out six films that year, among them "Kaze no naka no kodomo" (Children of the Wind), which was a critical hit and was sent to Venice film festival. "Wind" showed that Shimizu had time to complete and polish the work, but this wasn't the case with most of the films that Shochiku delegated for the director. "Koi no wasurete" (Forget Love for Now, 1937) is a much more conservative maternal melodrama, that does feature children prominently, but doesn't feel like a particularly Shimizu-esque work. The screenplay is by the societal Saito Ryosuke, who later co-wrote Ozu's fallen woman narrative "Kaze no naka no mendori" (A Hen in the Wind, 1948).

Michiko Kuwano plays a single-mother named Oyuki, who has no other alternative, but to work as a bar hostess, in order to support her young son. The film follows the mother's bleak life, as well as the son's difficulty of finding friends, when he has a mother that everybody thinks is a bad influence. It's mom-shaming in a very rough form, and for myself, the fact that I have seen the similar narrative done better both in Japanese films, and foreign ones, lessens the impact of the Shimizu film. It's just one more to the pile, and for a talented director like him, not a particularly memorable effort.

One can see, how this would have been made differently in the post-war. Besides the fact that the gender roles would have improved, it would have most likely been more individualist, instead of the broad strokes used by Shimizu and Saito here. This is not bad, but it is also not a game changer. If you want to feel sad for 73 minutes, give it a watch as a part of a larger Shimizu retrospective.

Noroshi wa Shanghai ni agaru (1944)

Forced friendship.

[6/10 · 9 October 2020]

One of the cinematic trends during Japan's colonial expansion period in World War II was to make films, that were made to look like co-productions with conquered Asian countries and territories. The purpose of these films was to paint a picture, where the Japanese were shown as friends of the other country, and to guide them into peaceful surrender and life under occupation. Often this was achieved by making films about history, showing how the relationship of the two countries is anything but new, and instead goes way back...

One director who had to turn in one of these, was famed jidai-geki veteran Inagaki Hiroshi. I've seen a bunch of these films that highlight Japanese superiority and I got to say, this one is technically a better film than most of them. It has a considerable budget, and therefore looks interesting in terms of the historical period depicted. Also, films like "Ai to chikai" (Love and Pledge, 1945) by Imai Tadashi or "Sayon no kane" (Sayon's Bell, 1943) by Shimizu Hiroshi featured more outrageous plot-lines and were thus in worse taste.

Inagaki's historical film relates the story of the Taiping Rebellion, as the Japanese would have it. The viewer is wise to read a bit before watching this film, so that you don't buy all of what's presented to you. However, the Taiping Rebellion was a civil war in China, from 1850 to 1864. In this complicated situation the Taiping forces were fighting against the Manchu dynasty and later, England and France were also featured in supportive roles for the dynasty. The Inagaki film (co-directed by prolific Chinese director Feng Yueh) shows a bit of how things went down, but highlights the role of Japanese as the only true friend for the common people of China.

The propaganda is less in your face than in the other films I have seen of this type, but it's there. Mostly, knowing the context in which this film was made stops me from enjoying it, as every little narrative detail has to be taken with a grain of salt. Then again, it is impressive, that they managed to pull such a budget to a film in 1944, as Japan was already seriously losing the war. The actors are Japanese jidai-geki stars of the pre-war period, or Chinese actors, and there's a few characters who are English, who by the looks of the credits are played by Russians. If this was the case, I would like to know how that came to be. Were they prisoners of war or something, forced to act for food?

Youth of the Son (1952)

Kobayashi's debut is warm, kind and humane. It's nothing like him.

[6/10 · 6 October 2020]

Kobayashi Masaki, the gritty master behind "Ningen no joken" (The Human Condition, 1959-1962) and "Seppuku" (Harakiri, 1962) started his career as an assistant director and screenwriter to several films by Kinoshita Keisuke. Serving his internship under such a figure left a clear mark to Kobayashi, whose first own directorial efforts closely resembled the films that Kinoshita had turned out during the late 1940's and early 50's. Mind you, the classic period of Kinoshita's career was yet to come.

Kinoshita made the kind of films that Shochiku liked to release: contemporary blends of drama and comedy, with modern sentiments, without over-politicizing everything (though there were exceptions). Kobayashi, a man haunted by his experience of WWII, was not the right guy to make films like this, but had initially problems of getting his darker narratives off the ground, with the studio being as it was.

"Musuko no seishun" (Youth of the Son, 1952) is Kobayashi's debut. Only 45 minutes in length - he would come to be known for extremely long films - you would never guess who made it. The film is a warm depiction of a post-war Japanese family with two sons approaching adulthood and enjoying their youth. "Youth" in this film's view is a simplistic concept, which mostly includes dating girls and fighting with other boys, and thus getting into trouble.

Though the film is very short indeed, the tone varies, but it's for the most part an enjoyable experience. The strangest aspect, considering again who Kobayashi would come to be as a filmmaker, is that this film includes a bunch of singing. Besides hearing "Happy Birthday to You" in English, the young people of this film are singing the theme song to John Ford's 1949 film "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon" in Japanese. This was a bit surreal, but certainly a memorable curiosity.

The cinematography is better than in an average Shochiku debut of that era, some would argue that it's better than that of an average Shochiku film, even though the cinematographer Takamura Kuratoro was only at the beginning of his career. Acting feels slightly loose, because the narrative is not grounded, but the actors are very pleasant. Ishihama Akira would go on to play an important role in "Harakiri", and of the studio regulars, Miyake Kuniko, Kita Ryuji and Ryu Chishu contribute also to the charm of the whole.

All in all, Kobayashi's filmography being much smaller in quantity than that of his contemporaries, with only 21 feature films, I understand that many of his fans will want to check this out. It's not up to his later standards, but it's also not his worst film, as his early filmography contains a few missteps like "Mittsu no ai" (Three Loves, 1954). "Youth of the Son" is interesting, because it's the debut of a famous director, though I would suspect that it would have been forgotten if this hadn't been the case.

Omokage (1948)

Gosho still searching for his post-war vision.

[6/10 · 2 October 2020]

Depending on how you count, "Omokage" (Vestige, 1948) is the second or the third post-war film by Gosho Heinosuke. His first, "Izu no musumetachi" (1945) had premiered only two weeks after Japan surrendered, so that may not even count, having been produced during the war-time. "Ima hitotabi no" (Once More, 1947) was a thematic post-war romance, and a big hit with the audiences. "Omokage" continues Gosho's line of showing his audience a more idyllic version of reality, though this film does have shadows lurking underneath.

The film is set on an upper-class beach resort, where a former professor lives in a luxurious seaside villa. If you think "immediate post-war, Japan", this is not the first image that would come to mind. The professor lives with his younger wife, and now a former student comes to visit them. This man has lost his wife during war, and gradually starts eyeing the lady of the house. The drama stems from both the moral code, as well as the stranger being haunted by his past, which takes the form of a recurring piano melody.

Gosho is often very good with slow-burner narratives like this, but I did not find "Omokage" to be among his better efforts. He is still struggling to relate what exactly he wants to say with this film, and as a result, it feels poorly thought-out. The contrast between idyllic location and emotional turmoil also could have been framed better. If you want to see him succeed with a similar narrative and a class depiction, I would highly recommend "Ryôjû" (Hunting Rifle, 1961), one of my favorites by him. "Omokage" is an interesting post-war product, but in the end, not one of the director's masterworks.

Niji tatsu oka (1938)

Emotional merit, uneven tone.

[7/10 · 2 October 2020]

What little I have managed to see from Toho Studios house director Otani Toshio would imply that he mostly worked with folk-comedies that were targeted for rural audiences. "Niji tatsu oka" (1938) shows more ambition as a narrative. The film is set in a hotel in the mountains. Kishii Akira and Takamine Hideko are stepbrother and stepsister who work there, him as a porter, and her as a clerk in the souvenir shop. The brother is an adult, who has pretty much raised the sister all on his own. They are very close, but this relationship faces problems, when Takamine's mother arrives in the hotel, and into their lives.

The story-line is good, and Kishii and Takamine make for a good team. Takamine was only about 13 while making this, and her talent is already evident, even though her best work was yet to come. The relationship between the two main characters is this film's core merit: the ending is beautiful, and could have been from a movie by Ozu or Shimizu. But that's also a problem for the film. Because it has potential, you are forced to compare it to other Japanese filmmakers of the time, and how they would have done this movie.

And Otani is not an auteur kind of guy. The film is only 53 minutes, but the screenplay forces way too many genres in this. Besides the melodrama, there is comedy, a rescue sequence from a mountain, as well as some songs. There is a Japanese interpretation of "Home on the Range" in this film. That gives it a nice time stamp, as the film law of 1939 would put an end to Americanisms like this.

All in all, this is the kind of film that should be remade. The story has potential, though the film doesn't manage to squeeze all of it into the finished product. Still, the ending is worth sticking around.

Sayon no kane (1943)

Shimizu's tasteless tribute to loyal servants...

[3/10 · 29 September 2020]

One adjective frequently associated with the cinema of Shimizu Hiroshi would be "humane". Both before the war and after, the director showed considerable insights and understanding of human nature in his works, specially those that deal with the psychology of children. But alas, during the war-time, Shimizu's filmography included a dark chapter. Back then, all Japanese cinema was under the control of the state, and if you wished to work, you did the films you were assigned. At least hopefully that is the case, it would be depressing to think that a guy like Hiroshi would do a film like this willingly.

"Sayon no kane" (Sayon's Bell, 1943) is based on an alleged true story of a young Taiwanese girl, who drowned while helping to carry the luggage of her Japanese teacher, in 1938. This is a clear propaganda narrative, a tribute to those loyal servants in occupied Asian nations like Taiwan. The film opens nicely enough. Shimizu opts for a documentarist touch, and shows the Taiwanese countryside and the people living there extensively. The cinematography is good and you can see that Shimizu is a storyteller from the silent days, he does not need the dialogue, even though this film eventually starts having some.

It is the purpose of the imagery which is tasteless. The film strives to show the Taiwanese as undeveloped, rural people, who lack the civilized ways of the Japanese, and should therefore become their servants. Of course, happily and out of free will. The film is very heavy-handed with Japanese symbols, kicking off with characters bowing to the flag, later incorporating the national anthem and other patriotic songs, and featuring the Japanese as teachers, from whom other nations can learn from, after acknowledging their superiority.

This film is all-but-impossible to watch because of the slimy nature of the narrative, which is a real shame. The star, Yamaguchi Shirley, is charismatic, and Shimizu is a pro who at least can make the film look nice. But one can not set aside, that Shimizu is clearly on the wrong side of history here.

Doku-ganryû Masamune (1942)

Typical war-time Daiei.

[6/10 · 27 September 2020]

"Doku-ganryu Masamune" (One Eyed Dragon, 1942) is a typical example of Japanese period films made in the war-time. It was produced by Daiei studios and directed by seasoned filmmaker Inagaki, who had done many similar films already with the quality of his work varying. The film is based on a historical novel by Ishizaka Yojiro, and is an even blend of history, fiction, battles and politics.

The film kicks off during battle in the early 17th century, where our protagonist Masamune Date (Kataoka Chiezo) loses an eye. He refuses to give up however, and is sent to further battles, proving himself to be a glorious military leader, and a prime example of Japanese manliness to the soldiers fighting in the present. The film is very masculine, with little time for female characters, and it sports a propagandist view of history. Like other historical films made during the war, it sees the past as a glorious place, from which contemporary Japanese can draw strength. The film is not pure action however, and has a somewhat nuanced plot-line, if you like the genre and can get over the monotonous characters.

Inagaki made better films both before the war and after, but this is by no means a bad one. The acting is acceptable, the lead performance is charismatic and based on the sets, the film even had a budget slightly above that of the average war-time film.

Ojôsan kanpai (1949)

Certainly not "Late Spring"...

[6/10 · 8 September 2020]

"Ojôsan kanpai" (Here's to the Lady, 1949) is a lighter turn from director Kinoshita Keisuke: a post-war romance narrative starring popular Shochiku stars Sano Shuji and Hara Setsuko. I like the fact that Kinoshita chose to lighten the mood a little bit, since his didactic melodramas "Kekkon" (Marriage, 1947) and "Fushicho" (Phoenix, 1947) didn't really do that much for me. "Here's to the Lady" however turns out to be a very loose film, that tries to be many different things, only succeeding in some. It's a comedy and also a kind of musical, but it also has some dramatic weight, and works as a time capsule as well. It is particularly interesting because of the presence of Hara Setsuko, and the fact that the star did the film the same year as "Banshun" (Late Spring, 1949), her first collaboration with Ozu.

For "Here's to the Lady" is also a narrative about (sort of) arranged marriage, but it focuses less on the family relationships and more on the courtship and class differences. Sano is working class, and owns a car repair shop. Hara is a daughter of a formerly aristocratic family. Sakemoto Takeshi urges the two to meet, and they start dating, but soon troubles find their way to paradise.

I personally think the film should have focused more heavily on the dating, and the comedic elements. Because of the musical interludes, the drama doesn't feel all that important, but it manages to make the film very uneven. There are good moments, and the Shochiku cast is very good, Hara in particular. Yet because of the tone, I found it difficult to invest myself in these characters, even without any comparisons to "Late Spring".

In the end, the film is okay, certainly it's very harmless, but Kinoshita would truly start blossoming in the 1950's.

Pitch Perfect 3 (2017)

Who "pitched" this?

[4/10 · 26 August 2020]

"Pitch Perfect" (2012) as well as "Pitch Perfect 2" (2015) were by no means revolutionary game-changers of cinema, but nevertheless enjoyable, well-crafted entertainment. The two films both knew what they had going: a talented ensemble cast with youthful energy, comedic plotlines built around relatable characters, and a unique focus point in a cappella singing. Both had loose narratives that made way for funny situations, but kept it just grounded enough for us to see traces of real life within these characters. I don't know who pitched the third film in the franchise, but this note absolutely destroys the group harmony and results into one tone-deaf film.

Youth and fun were key aspects of "Pitch Perfect", and the third film makes the decision to grow up, or at least tries to do it at times. The Bellas of the first film have all graduated and have disappointing jobs. They long to sing together once more, and get an opportunity to go to Europe to entertain American troops. There is also a band contest, the winner of which gets to perform with DJ Khaled, who unfortunately is in the film. The contest however, much like everything else in the film, gets quickly forgotten.

IMDb credits three writers for this film, and it feels like three films happening at once. There is the drama about growing up, which we start with, and then touch upon during the last 10 minutes. Then there is the contest plot-line, which is a throwback to the first two films, and at this point such a narrative cliché, that the characters constantly break the 4th wall by joking about it. The third plot-line, which hijacks the film, is about Fat Amy's absent father Fergus (John Lithgow), who returns into his daughter's life in order to steal a huge fortune, that Amy has inherited. None of the plot-lines flow together, and two of them destroy the inner realism of the franchise. We are now meant to believe that Fat Amy is a master ninja, just because the writers of the newest film decided that she is. Lithgow is hammy, and as a villain, he is not interested about a cappella singing (this film has very little of that), but instead only cares about money. A fitting metaphor for the film, if there ever was one.

This sequel forgets everything that made the first two films good. It is not youthful and fun, but in a constant state of post-graduation depression. It doesn't work as a drama about growing up, because of the other narratives and a yacht named "Fat Dingo B-tch". The great ensemble cast gets broken apart, because they have their own plot-lines now. They are not a group anymore. The love-interests from the first two films are all completely forgotten, and the ones introduced in this film slip in and out of the film without making any lasting impression.

All in all, this is an encore that ruins the set, an addition that leaves no-one wanting more.

Konyaku sanbagarasu (1937)

Shuji, Ken and Shin.

[7/10 · 11 August 2020]

In books about classic Japanese cinema, Shimazu Yasujiro is often praised as an important figure in the development of Japanese cinema, the shomin-geki genre in particular. Yet his own personal golden age was in the 1920's, and not many of these films survive. I have seen a bunch of his films from YouTube, all from the 1930's. Though a few of them could be considered being shomin-geki, there is a great variance to the styles of this films. There are melodramas, comedies, a revue film, women's pictures, and this - a Japanese attempt at a screwball comedy.

"Konyaku sanbagarasu" (The Trio's Engagements, 1937) is a very lighthearted romp. So lighthearted in fact, that the three male leads Sano Shuji, Uehera Ken and Saburi Shin play three lads named Shuji, Ken and Shin. That made me smile, though this was not a debut film for any of the young fellas. Saburi had started his film career in 1931, Uehara 1935, and Sano in 1936. Still, they could be considered fresh star potential, and this film also features a stellar Shochiku cast supporting them.

Sano plays a jobless man with a girlfriend (Miyake Kuniko). Things aren't looking good, but eventually Sano gets a job in a big store, simultaneously with Uehara and Saburi. Problems occur, when all three fall in love with Reiko (Takamine Mieko), the daughter of their boss (Saito Tatsuo). The other two guys have girlfriends as well...

This narrative is constructed a bit too lightly for it to keep audiences laughing, but it did make me smile several times. I liked the actors and their personalities, but most of all I liked the modern city scene of 30's Tokyo. There are nice sets, a few outdoor scenes, and at one time, a cool rendition of the song "Chicago" jazzes up the soundtrack. I recommend this for Shochiku fans, though it is by no means a crucial piece of Japanese cinema.

Tokyo Family (2013)

I guess Yamada couldn't resist it...

[6/10 · 3 August 2020]

To understand how this film came about, you got to know a little bit of background about the director, Yamada Yoji. Though he may be internationally best known for his late-career "Samurai Trilogy" (2002 - 2006), Yamada has been directing films since 1961, and is best known for films that are set in the contemporary present, but feature a heavy dose of nostalgia. Yamada started his career at Shochiku, the same studio where Ozu worked. Though he initially tried to make films very opposite to the Ozu style, he came to be compared to Ozu time and time again, as the years went on. Yamada himself blames the Kamata studio style, which is present in the films of many older Shochiku directors.

I like Yamada quite a bit, though he is nowhere near the master of cinema that Ozu was. The core difference between them is that Ozu depicted the sentiments of his contemporary society. Yamada's films have very similar sentiments, but from a nostalgic viewpoint. Less "mono no aware" and more of a longing to a childhood home, tragicomic everyday realism with warm undertones and soft narratives. At his darkest, Yamada is not as dark as Ozu, and at his funniest, he is not as hilarious. He is good, balanced, and humane, and his works benefit if you don't compare the two.

But I guess Yamada couldn't help himself from eventually remaking an Ozu film, after making Ozu-esque films for 52 years (!). "Tôkyô kazoku" (Tokyo Family, 2013) is a remake of "Tokyo monogotari" (Tokyo Story, 1954), the Ozu film that is repeatedly voted to be the greatest film of all time. Because of the casual nature of the the narrative, it is not exactly like remaking "Vertigo" (1958) or "Citizen Kane" (1941), but you've got to admit: it's a challenge. Instead of making a scene-for-scene remake (god forbid!), this is more of a re-imagining of the original, with contemporary setting and some differences made.

I came in with an open mind, and the initial reaction was good. The original Ozu film was in black and white, Yamada's film is in color, but he has chosen a color palette that resembles that of Ozu's late-career color films like "Ohayo" (Good Morning, 1959). In hindsight, Yamada would have been wise to remake "Ohayo" instead. "Ohayo" is a comedic and pretty relaxed narrative, a good fit for Yamada, and in itself a remake of an earlier Ozu film (1932). It could have been updated, just change the television set of the 1959 film into a computer, or an iPhone or something. Not necessary a masterwork, but Yamada could manage the tone. "Tokyo Story" is too dark for Yamada. Ozu described it as one of his most melodramatic pictures, and Yamada's softball approach does not resonate with the narrative. The dramatic tension is not very high, and we feel too much sympathy for every single character.

The original film was told largely from the perspective of the parents who come to visit their adult children in Tokyo. This film does the opposite, and starts with the children. Therefore we come to understand their perspective too much, and they are made too kind for the film's core thesis to come through. Yamada's film is cozy and the nostalgia he has for the olden day family idyll goes opposite to Ozu's thematic about the selfishness of the modern generation. Because the drama doesn't bite, the film starts to feel slow, which is something I never felt with any Ozu film, though they were long. I feel bad watching this, because Yamada is talented and can do several things very well. This film highlights what he can't do.

All this being said, the film carries some charm from the original, though it doesn't add much. Some scenes have become too iconic to change, and are thus too similar to the originals. The acting is very good throughout, as Yamada films are always full of likable faces.

Onimasa (1982)

You don't wanna make the comparison...

[5/10 · 2 August 2020]

If I was forced to name just one favorite actor of mine, I would probably say Nakadai Tatsuya, the versatile and always captivating Japanese film presence. Besides Kobayashi, with whom he is universally associated because of their famous masterpieces, Nakadai was a central actor in the filmographies of several other directors, one of them being Gosha Hideo. In the 1960's, Gosha was in top shape, and made several highly enjoyable chanbara films. "Goyokin" (1969), starring Nakadai, would crack my all-time top 100 films list. I recommend checking it out, in the case you haven't.

Yet in his later career, the quality of Gosha's films dropped. He made several b-movies and exploitation narratives, and overall did not live up to his earlier films. "Kiryûin Hanako no shôgai" (1982) is an attempt to do a more serious yakuza picture, which was not helped by the English-language title "Onimasa - A Japanese Godfather". This title shifts the focus of the narrative away from the protagonist, who is a young girl adopted by the yakuza boss played by Nakadai. It also makes you expect and hope for a film that would be as artistically creative as "The Godfather", so all in all, the comparison does not help. (The Japanese actually made a serious of "Godfather" wanna-be's in the 1970's). This film, set in the first half of the 20th century, is a growing up narrative under difficult circumstances. There is potential, but the screenplay is all over the place, and the long film loses direction several times over.

I liked the premise, but there is still too much yakuza clichés for the audience to view this as a serious drama. Nakadai makes his first appearance in a fedora hat, and I half expected him to follow this with a dance number, the "Smooth Criminal" that he is. His performance is played too massively, and it is hard to take the father character seriously, because he has been written poorly. There is also a dog fighting sequence, which I feel will turn off many viewers, as it was unnecessary and difficult to watch.

All in all, not a top 10 film for Gosha, and not a top 50 performance for Nakadai.

Happiness of Us Alone (1961)

One of the best films about people with disabilities.

[9/10 · 31 July 2020]

"Namonaku mazushiku utsukushiku" (Our Happiness Alone, 1961) is the feature-length directorial debut of Matsuyama Zenzo. It is one of the best debuts by any Japanese director, but then Matsuyama did not start cold. By 1961, he had achieved a great career as a screenwriter for directors like Kinoshita and Kobayashi, and through Kinoshita, he had also married Takamine Hideko, one of Japan's greatest actresses. "Our Happiness Alone" features a screenplay by Matsuyama, made to suit the fantastic talent of his wife. Takamine gives one of her best performances here.

The film tells the story of a deaf couple struggling through the post-war years. Takamine has become deaf in adult age, because of the war, while her husband (played equally great by Kobayashi Keiju) has been deaf and dumb since birth. The film shows the hardships that they must go through in their everyday existence. You really feel for the characters, and because they have to endure so much, every happy moment feels utterly beautiful and may bring a tear to the spectator's eye. But soon, reality will slap you right back.

I don't want to enclose too many plot details, but the film is certainly highly memorable. I've watched hundreds of gendai-geki films, and the deafness of the leads really makes an impact to the narrative: you should never take things for granted. I hoped for a different ending, but this one is fine too.

All in all, this film should be better known. Strangely, there exists a sequel with the same actors returning, and also an Indian remake.

The Adventures of Marco Polo (1938)

Almost bad enough to be good, but not quite.

[4/10 · 23 July 2020]

"The Adventures of Marco Polo" comes our way by courtesy of The United States, the country that would later give us John Wayne as Genghis Khan. The idea of this Goldwyn production really makes me smile. "The Travels of Marco Polo" is possibly the most famous depiction of different cultures coming together in all of literature. But one does not have to spend too much time with this movie's nearly all-white-cast to figure out, that Americans aren't interested to meet other cultures, but simply to have Americans in fancy outfits playing Arabs and Mongols and Chinese and whatnot. They might have at least cast a leading man of Italian decent as Marco, but alas, we have Gary Cooper. Coop does his best, well actually he does his usual, and tries to go through the film as painlessly as possible.

From today's perspective, the yellow-face aspect of the film will probably drive off many viewers, but then again one must not judge a 1938 film with 2020 mentality. I believe this needn't have turned into an all-out fiasco. Marco Polo's famous travel book featured its fair share of lies and made-up stories, and therefore we are allowed to give a pass to the Archie Mayo film as well, even with that spaghetti scene. Above all, this should have been a "journey" narrative. Venetian traveler journeying across the Eurasian continent to China was a massive feat back then, and all the hardships that Polo must have encountered would have made for an interesting story of survival. Perhaps this would have even made use of Cooper's outdoor screen persona.

Yet the film falls flat in this sense. In the beginning, Marco is told to go to China by his father, and after a few scenes, he is already there. This film really throws away all possible potential that existed in the source material. As Polo of actuality spent a decade or so in Kublai Khan's court, this could also have been turned into an "escape from the Paradise" narrative like "Lost Horizon" (1937), but instead its just a dull costume drama with silly-looking people (silly because of their Caucasian origins, that is). The film never manages to create a willing suspension of disbelief for its audience. Some films from the era, like "Stanley and Livingstone" (1939) understood that the bare minimum that you must do for an exotic picture like this, is to send a 2nd unit to film some establishing shots about the location where the film is set. This film just looks like California.

Lots of money has been thrown to a project that has not been thought-out properly. Lana Turner lost her eyebrows for nothing.

Home Diary (1938)

Shimizu in the world of adults.

[7/10 · 21 July 2020]

In 1937, Shimizu Hiroshi directed "Kaze no naka no kodomo" (Children of the Wind, 1937). It was his first major film about children, the theme that would grow to dominate his filmography. "Katei nikki" (Home Diary, 1938) from the following year is not about kids, but you can certainly view growing up to be an important theme. Saburi Shin and Uehara Ken play two friends, both students as the film begins. Their personas are very different, and life leads them through different paths. Saburi is rational and Uehara more emotional. Both face tough times with the women they choose to marry.

There is a time jump of several years very early in the film. The beginning merely introduces the two, and explains the reasons why they ended up with the women they did. The film deals with many of the central questions of the 1930's gendai-geki films: traditional girls vs. modern girls, sensible marriage vs. romantic marriage, individual feelings vs. social expectations. Simultaneously it explores, whether the two men, reunited after a break, can keep their friendship alive, despite their wives who make it harder as they don't get along at first.

The screenplay is by Ikeda Tadao, an early collaborator of Ozu's, and based on a story by Yoshiya Nobuko. I get the feeling that there was maybe a novel behind this film, as Shimizu seems to bend before his source material. This does not resemble his best-known films stylistically, as very little effort has been made for this to look cinematic. Most of it takes place in stale locations, the beautiful opening sequence notwithstanding. Then again Shimizu as a director was nowhere near as focused as Ozu or even Gosho. This film is an adequately written drama, that could have been performed on stage. None of the actors are at their best, but nobody is bad either.

As a historical curiosity, you can see that Japan had by 1938 aligned itself with Germany and Italy: there is a sequence where the characters go see a German film "Königswalzer" (1935). Few years earlier this would have been an American film most likely.

Kôjô no tsuki (1937)

Sano Shuji as a likable composer.

[7/10 · 18 July 2020]

Some Japanese films are culturally specific, and could only have been made in Japan. Others are more universal, that with a little adjustment could have been made anywhere. This film is one of the latter. The Shochiku production was directed by Sasaki Kojiro, a relatively experienced and a relatively forgotten director, who had started his directorial career at the same studio ten years earlier. This is his most widely seen film, and for a reason. After Japan had aligned itself with Germany and Italy, the country gained access to the Venice film festival. Kôjô no tsuki (Moon Over the Ruins, 1937) and Shimizu Hiroshi's childhood depiction "Kaze no naka no kodomo" (Children of the Wind, 1937) were the first Japanese films to compete for international awards, this being the prestigious "Mussolini Cup", which the festival handed out for the best domestic and best foreign film from 1934 - 1942. Neither film won, but Japan's festival luck was better the following year with Tasaka Tomotaka's "Five Scouts" (1938).

"Kôjô no tsuki" is by no means high art, but is a capably directed drama, that establishes a nice atmosphere, and features a bunch of characters that make the Japanese look like a kind and likable nation. It is made better, if the viewer is a Shochiku fan, since the film boasts an array of familiar faces. Sano Shuji is the star, or perhaps this was his star-making performance. He had only done a few films before this, which I have not seen, but I have always liked him in his subsequent roles, whether they be in an Ozu film or a more usual studio affair. Sano plays a composer who arrives to country-side. He is met at the train station by Saburi Shin - a favorite of mine, but bit of a wasted resource in this role - and Sano comes to stay with his family, which also includes the great Iida Choko. The film follows the protagonist's dealings with the country-folk, his worries and eventually, his work. He is a kind soul who improves the lives of others, and there is even hint at a romance. But eventually, it gets more dramatic.

Possibly the main song Sano is composing in the film was already a hit before the film, as it considered very important for the plot. I am not going to spoil the ending, but for modern audiences and people who have seen more films about composers, it does feel very cliched. Out of the two sent to Venice, the Shimizu film much more deserves a classic status, though I don't consider it to be among his best either. This one is pleasant, bit too light-weight drama, with some nice scenery and good actors playing characters who are slightly too good, and start to feel one-dimensional after a while.

Soyokaze chichi to tomo ni (1940)

Humane film with the great Takamine Hideko.

[8/10 · 8 July 2020]

This lovely depiction of everyday life was produced by Toho Eiga in 1940. A year before, Japan had passed a severe film law, which turned the country's cinematic output more nationalistic and militaristic, to support the fighting spirit. Yet there were also more humane films like this, the 9th directorial work by Yamamoto Satsuo. Yamamoto would, after the war, become best known for his anti-establishment films, to which "Soyokaze chichi to tomo ni" (Gentle Breeze With Father, 1940) bares little resemblance. The film was written by Naruse Mikio, by then a much more famous filmmaker, whose career was heading into a slump called the "1940's". Yamamoto and Naruse knew each other, as Yamamoto had started his career as Naruse's 2nd director. Considering that Naruse would venture into very bleak territory with his films from the 1950's, this film doesn't resemble his best-known works either, though it does sit well with the films Naruse was turning out in late 30's and early 40's.

The film is a nice, warm-hearted starring vehicle for Takamine Hideko, who would become one of Japan's best-known actresses, much thanks to her presence in about 20 Naruse films. In 1940, she was 16, but had worked in the industry for 11 years. This film gives a lively role for her, which brings to mind her later tomboy presence in Ozu's "Munekata kyodai" (The Munekata Sisters, 1950). Even her name character name is Hideko. Our protagonist is a teenage girl who goes to school and lives with her father and brother. The father is absent from home every now and then, so one night Hideko follows him and finds him drinking in a bar. She goes on to discover things, and through their later confrontations this film becomes a father-daughter dramedy about their relationship.

This film is kept brief with its 69 minute running time, which it carries very well. Takamine is superb and likable as the lead, and there were plenty of good scenes for her. The copy I watched from YouTube was in dire need of restoration. Since this is a good film, with a famous actress, I hope it gets it.

A Certain Killer (1967)

Elegant starring vehicle for Ichikawa, with some resemblance to Melville

[7/10 · 7 July 2020]

"Aru koroshi ya" (A Certain Killer / The Hitman, 1967) is a Japanese yakuza/crime film starring Ichikawa Raizo, possibly the country's biggest movie star at the time. Looking at how popular Raizo was, it's a shame that so many of his later films are generic and predictable genre products, where no effort for artistic creativity is made. This film, by the usually quite lazy genre-worker Mori Kazuo, is better than average. It has a good screenplay by Masumura Yasuzo (one of my favorite directors) and Ishimatsu Yoshihiro, based on a novel by Fujiwara Shinji. It's not a yakuza exploitation film, or an action piece without any nuances, but a stylistic affair, that resembles the films of French auteur Jean-Pierre Melville, especially early on in the film.

Set in the post-war, Ichikawa plays a man who becomes a hitman for an old yakuza family in order to make a living. The plot is quite simple - much like the plots in Melville films - but the way it's told gets your attention. The film starts quietly and patiently, and once we get action, even that is done with restrain. Ichikawa gives a good performance, though the leading lady was a bit over-the-top, affecting the mood of the film too much.

Though this is better than most late Ichikawa, I still am a bit bummed it wasn't made by a more exciting director. Mori is not bad, but doesn't make it too memorable either. Comparing it to the greatest of French cinema doesn't of course help, either. Masumura would have been a good choice, or Shinoda Masahiro who made "Kawaita hana" (Pale Flower, 1964). I recommend this to genre fans, and friends of Raizo, but you can certainly find more gripping Japanese crime narratives from the 60's, as well as tons of worse ones.