05 August 2010

The End of Summer (小早川家の秋, 1961)

Akiko and Noriko framed by beautiful red flowers 
(though not Higanbana in this instance)

Ozu’s penultimate film The End of Summer (小早川家の秋/ Kohayagawa-ke no aki, 1961) captures on film a world that was fast disappearing in the early 1960s: the traditional streets of old Japan. The story of the Kohayagawa family, who are having to face the fact that the family sake brewery that has been in their family for generations will have to modernize in order to survive, is also the story of a modernizing country.  It is evident in the contrast between the dark but airy wooden houses of Kyoto and the bright lights of the concrete, windowed buildings of Osaka.

The English title of the film is actually quite different from the Japanese one, but both titles fit the themes of the film. A direct translation of the Japanese title “The Autumn of the Kohayagawa Family” would have been cumbersome in English and the film is indeed set at the end of the summer. All the typical signs of late summer in Japan are present: the ever-present song of the cicadas, traditional fans to ward off the heat, the red flowers, and the eating of watermelon. The Japanese title uses autumn as a seasonal reference to demonstrate  that that a changing of the guard is about to take place in the Kohayagawa family: with the patriarch Manbei Kohayagawa suffering from heart troubles and trying to enjoy his final days as much as he can by hooking up with an old mistress and betting on the bicycle races.

As the contemporary poster (above) for the film clearly demonstrates, the real heart of the story are the lives of Kohayagawa’s three daughters (with a possible fourth, if you count his mistress’s adult daughter Yuriko). who represent the contemporary generation of the family. Despite the feeble efforts of the men in the Kohayagawa family to intervene by way of matchmaking attempts, each of these women demonstrate the new freedoms that women had in the post-war years to choose the direction their lives would take. The married daughter, Fumiko, clearly pulls the strings in the family, keeping the family unit stable and preventing the men in the family from intervening too directly in the marriage plans of her sisters. The eldest daughter, the widowed Akiko, must decide whether or not to marry or to continue as a single mother supporting her son through her modest, but respectable job at an art gallery. The youngest daughter, Noriko, must decide whether or not she should marry for money or for love.

The reminders of changing Japan seem to be embodied by the colour red in the film. The red first appears in the opening credits, then repeats itself in the lettering of street lights of Osaka including the red circle associated with the Japanese flag, and then the colour red is repeated subtly throughout the film – the red of Coca-Cola, the red accessories, the red fire extinguisher, and so on. The frequent use of red flowers is particularly interesting because Ozu has used the higanbana as the titular symbol of his 1958 film Equinox Flower.  Most of the identifiable flowers in The End of Summer are not the higanbana (aka red spider lily) - though often they are too far away to tell properly.  Symbolically however, the higanbana is quite suitable to the themes of the film, arriving as it does at the end of summer and its association with Buddhist rituals concerning death. 
 The red of the neon lights of Osaka
The red of Coca-Cola
The red of a fire extinguisher 
(note the drying sake barrels in the background 
- aanother important symbol repeated in the film)
 Are those Higanbana I spot in the background?  Possibly.
They are often grown around houses in Japan
in order to keep pests like mice away (their bulbs are poisonous).

The modernization of Japan is also suggested by the encroachment of Western dress, language (Yuriko saying ‘Bye-Bye’ almost seems to startle Kohayagawa), business methods (big companies swallowing up family run enterprises), and Yuriko’s string of “American” boyfriends.
 Random gaijin awkwardly pretending to be Americans (George & Harry)

On the whole, the film is a delightful blend of comedy and pathos. The sight of Kohayagawa traipsing through the streets of Osaka in his geta trying to elude the company manager, or of him playing kakurenbo (hide-and-go-seek) with his grandson are truly hilarious. There are also unintentionally funny scenes such as Yuriko’s “American” boyfriends dropping by to pick her up – I don’t know who these two uncredited gaijin were but they were clearly not native speakers of English. Fortunately, their awkwardness fit the thematic concerns of the film so it was only a passing distraction.
 Chishū Ryū cameo
A true highlight for fans of Ozu’s films comes near the film's conclusion, when Chishū Ryū (star of Tokyo Story, Late Spring, and so on) makes a cameo appearance as a peasant working on the banks of the river. He is given the poetic final epitaph of the film reminding us of the Buddhist view of the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. 

Directed by Yasujirō OZU
Screenplay by Yasujirō OZU & Kōga NODA
Cinematography by Asakazu NAKAI

Cast
Ganjiro NAKAMURA as Manbei Kohayagawa
Setsuko HARA as Akiko
Yōko TSUKASA as Noriko
Michiyo ARATAMA as Fumiko

Kohayagawa-ke no aki (1961) / Japanese Movie
Japanese Movie
Kijyu Yoshida ga Kataru Yasujiro Ozu no Eiga Sekai / Documentary
Documentary
Higanbana (Equinox Flower) / Japanese Movie
Japanese Movie

© Catherine Munroe Hotes 2010

04 August 2010

Ten Things I Know about Natto Wada (和田 夏十)


Natto Wada (和田 夏十, 1920-1983) was the wife of renowned film director Kon Ichikawa (市川 崑, 1915-2008). During the early years of their marriage, Ichikawa and Wada collaborated on over 30 films together with Wada writing or co-writing the screenplays. After Tokyo Olympiad (1965), Wada decided to retire from screenwriting. Kon Ichikawa explained her retirement thusly: "She doesn't like the new film grammar, the method of presentation of the material; she says there's no heart in it anymore, that people no longer take human love seriously" (see James Quandt’s book). Most critics see Wada’s retirement as an important turning point in his career, though it is difficult to know how much she unofficially contributed to his films from the late 1960s until her untimely death in the early 1980s. 


  1. Natto Wada was a pen name. Wada’s real name was Yumiko Ichikawa (née Mogi). 
  2. She was born in Himeji in Hyōgo Prefecture – famous for its beautiful castle.
  3. Wada had a degree in English Literature from Tokyo Women’s Christian University.
  4. Wada and Ichikawa were married on the 10th of April 1948 and had two sons together.  It was the second marriage for both of them.
  5. Wada won the Kinema Jumpo Award for Best Screenplay in 1960 for both Fires on the Plain (Nobi, 1959) and Odd Obsession (Kagi , 1959). She also won the Mainichi Film Concours for Best Screenplay in 1963 for Being Two Isn’t Easy (Watashi wa nisai, 1962)
  6. Most of Wada’s screenplays were literary adaptations. In fact, the sheer number of adaptations Ichikawa directed in the early part of his career can be attributed to his wife’s extensive reading habits.
  7. Wada also collaborated with pioneering female director Kinuyo Tanaka by writing the screenplay for The Wandering Princess (Futen no Ōhi, 1960). It was adapted from a bestselling book by Hiroko Aiishinkakura.
  8. Other films she wrote or co-wrote that were not directed by Ichikawa include The Woman Who Touched the Legs (Ashi ni sawatta onna, Yasuzo Masumura, 1960) and Hateshinaki Yokubo (Shōhei Imamura, 1958).
  9. In Waiting on the Weather, Teruyo Nogami says that Ichikawa always credited his wife for the unique tempo of his films, quoting him as saying that “Natto has such an ear for dialogue.”
  10. Wada died of breast cancer after a long battle with the disease.
Update: Ten More Things About Natto Wada (29 August 2010)

The Kon Ichikawa Story (English Subtitles) / Japanese Movie
Japanese Movie

© Catherine Munroe Hotes 2010

01 August 2010

Confessions of a Dog (ポチの告白, 2006)





Shinsedai Festival

One of the most important films screened at Toronto’s Shinsedai Cinema Festival this year was Gen Takahashi’s Confessions of a Dog (ポチの告白/Pochi no kokuhaku, 2006). Takahashi completed the film in 2005, but because of the controversial nature of the subject matter he has run into trouble getting his film screened domestically in Japan.

Confessions of a Dog tackles head on the issue of police corruption in Japan. At the beginning of the film, we are encouraged to sympathize with the main protagonist Takeda (Shun Sugata), a young police officer. Takeda begins the film as an honest new recruit who has idealistically joined the force with the intention of making the community a safer place and has a loving relationship with his young wife. His good deeds see him quickly promoted to detective and he finds himself becoming more and more embroiled in the corrupt world of the Japanese CID.

The corruption infects all levels of the police force with the domestic press, who are in theory allowed freedom of speech under the Japanese constitution, bowing to police pressure to publish only the ‘official’ police version of events. In the face of overwhelming pressure, including a vicious beating, a social activist Kusama (Junichi Kawamoto) slowly gathers evidence of police misdeeds in order to try to bring about a change in the system.


The events in Confessions of a Dog are based upon the brave research of freelance investigative journalist Yū Terasawa and incidents involving police that Gen Takahashi experienced in his youth. The film belongs to a tradition of films in Japan, beginning with the Japanese New Wave, that tackle issues the Japanese establishment would prefer to see swept under the carpet than discussed openly. I was reminded in particular of Nagisa Oshima who, like Takahashi, had difficulties with the funding and distribution of his films in Japan because of their controversial subject matter. Like Oshima, Takahashi has had to look outside Japan to get his film distributed (the film has a Hong Kong distributor, but no word of a DVD yet). 

Confessions of a Dog is a tale of Shakespearean proportions with a 3 hour running time and a broad cast of characters who weave a tangled web that begins its inextricable descent into tragedy. Shun Sugata, a character actor with an impressive CV of roles under his belt (from Boss Benta in Kill Bill and Nakao in The Last Samurai to Takayama in Ichi the Killer and Boss in Pulse), was a brilliant choice of casting for the role of Takeda. Physically, he towers over his fellow actors, but he plays the role of tough guy with the charisma, charm and confliction of Jean Reno in Léon.


Visually, Gen Takahashi constantly reminds us of how trapped Takeda is by framing him in confined spaces, such as the narrow gap between two sliding doors. The Shakespearean nature of Takeda’s story is emphasized by the use of Hamlet-esque monologues towards the end of the film which use very theatrical lighting. In the final scene, when Takeda breaks the fourth wall entirely and directly addresses the cinema audience, I was reminded of Charlie Chaplin’s final scene in Monsieur Verdoux (1947). When I raised this with Gen Takahashi after the screening, he very modestly objected that his film was addressing a much smaller audience than Chaplin was with the ending of Monsieur Verdoux. While it is true that Takahashi’s main goal with Confessions of a Dog is to bring about change in the Japanese police force, such corruption unfortunately exists in all societies and at every level of society. Confessions of a Dog is a film that deserves wider recognition than it has received so far and I hope that it can at least achieve wider distribution on DVD than it has in cinemas.

See it.



Other films by Gen Takahashi: