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domingo, 21 de novembro de 2010
segunda-feira, 15 de novembro de 2010
ATG: The Art Theatre Guild Pamphlet Project
We are trying to complete all the ATG Issues. If you have any of the missing ones and want to share, e-mail me at Eigagogo@gmail.com. I must thank to Robert Nishimura who has many issues in his posession and is willing to share them with us! Follow the thread at ADC too. Here is the complete list (in English and Japanese) of the ATG Art Theatre Guild pamphlets. Each issue has reviews, interviews, and full scenarios for each title released by ATG.
[English Titles]
No.01 - Mother Joan of the Angels (Jerzy Kawalerowicz)
No.02 - Testament of Orpheus (Jean Cocteau)
No.03 – Pitfall (Hiroshi Teshigahara)
No.04 – 2 Cents Worth of Hope, Renato Castellani
No.05 – Torment, Alf Sjöberg
No.06 - Umberto D., Vittorio De Sica
No.07 - Wild Strawberries, Ingmar Bergman
No.08 - Alexander Nevsky, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.09 – All My Children (Miyoji Ieki)
No.10 - Night Train, Jerzy Kawalerowicz
No.11 - Love at Twenty, François Truffaut
No.12 - Cleo From 5 to 7, Agnes Varda
No.13 - Innocent Sorcerers, Andrzej Wajda
No.14 - Shoot the Piano Player, François Truffaut
No.15 - Andrei Rublev, Andrei Tarkovsky
No.16 - She and He (Susumu Hani)
No.17 - The Seventh Seal, Ingmar Bergman
No.18 - Electra, Michael Cacoyyanis
No.19 - The Girl Friends, Michelangelo Antonioni
No.20 - Ivan the Terrible, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.21 - That Kind of Woman, Sidney Lumet
No.22 - Last Year at Marienbad, Alain Resnais
No.23 – Through a Glass Darkly, Ingmar Bergman
No.24 - The Long Absence, Henri Colpi
No.25 - Viridiana, Luis Buñuel
No.26 - Pasazerka, Andrzej Munk
No.27 - The Unmailed Letter, Mikhail Kalatozov
No.28 - Shadows, John Cassavetes
No.29 - Resurrection, Mikhail Shveitser
No.30 - Advise and Consent, Otto Preminger
No.31 - This Sporting Life, Lindsay Anderson
No.32 - The Presence of a Clown, Ingmar Bergman
No.33 - The Lady with the Little Dog, Iosif Kheifits
No.34 - The Real End of the Great War, Jerzy Kawarlerowicz
No.35 - 8½, Federico Fellini
No.36 - The Organizer, Mario Monicelli
No.37 - The Guns of August, Nathan Crawling
No.38 - Silence Has No Wings (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.39 - The Sun Shines Bright, John Ford
No.40 - Diary of a Chambermaid, Luis Buñuel
No.41 - Citizen Kane, Orson Welles
No.42 - King & Country, Joseph Rosie
No.43 - A Lesson in Love, Ingmar Bergman
No.44 - Pather Panchali, Satyajit Ray
No.45 - Juliette of the Spirits, Federico Fellini
No.46 - Bell’ Antonio, Mauro Bolognini
No.47 - Band of Ninja, Ôshima Nagisa
No.48 - The Moment of Truth, Francesco Rosi
No.49 - The Loved One, Tony Richardson
No.50 - Pierrot le Fou, Jean Luc Godard
No.51 - The River: Poem of Wrath (Kota Mori)
No.52 - Battleship Potemkin (Sergei M. Eisenstein)
No.53 - La Guerra est Finie, Alain Resnais
No.54 - Fahrenheit 451, François Truffaut
No.55 - Death By Hanging, Ôshima Nagisa
No.56 - The Servant, Joseph Rosie
No.57 - Loin du Vietnam, Alain Resnais
No.58 - Nanami: The Inferno of First Love (Susumu Hani)
No.59 - Masculin Feminin, Jean Luc Godard
No.60 - Hitler…Connais Pas, Bertrand Briey
No.61 - Diamonds of the Night, Jan Nemec
No.62 - Nikudan, Okamoto Kihachi
No.63 – Sade/Muller, Peter Brook
No.64 - La Petit Solidat, Jean Luc Godard
No.65 - Diary of a Shinjuku Thief (Nagisa Oshima)
No.66 - Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Sergei Paradjanov
No.67 - Who are you, Polly Maggoo?, William Klein
No.68 - Double Suicide (Masahiro Shinoda)
No.69 - Boy (Nagisa Oshima)
No.70 - Funeral Parade of Roses (Toshio Matsumoto)
No.71 - Weekend, Jean Luc Godard
No.72 - The Trial of Joan of Arc, Robert Bresson
No.73 - October, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.74 - Apart from Life, Kei Kumai
No.75 - Eros + Massacre (Kiju Yoshida)
No.76 - Au Hasard Balthazar, Robert Bresson
No.77 - Alphaville, Jean Luc Godard
No.78 - The Man Who Left His Will on Film, Ôshima Nagisa
No.79 - This Transient Life (Akio Jissoji)
No.80 - Heroic Purgatory (Kiju Yoshida)
No.81 - Antonio Das Mortes (Glauber Rocha)
No.82 - Aparajito, Satyajit Ray
No.83 - Evil Spirits of Japan (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.84 - Demons (Toshio Matsumoto)
No.85 - Cul-de-sac, Roman Polanski
No.86 - Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets (Shuji Terayama)
No.87 - The Ceremony (Nagisa Oshima)
No.88 - Wild Strawberries, Ingmar Bergman
No.89 - Mandala (Akio Jissoji)
No.90 - Lost Lovers (Kunio Shimizu, Sôichirô Tahara)
No.91 - Confessions Among Actresses (Kiju Yoshida)
No.92 - The Boys in the Band, William Friedkin
No.93 - Ecstasy of Angels (Koji Wakamatsu)
No.94 - The Iron Crown (Kaneto Shindo)
No.95 - Poem, Jissojii Akio
No.96 - Dear Summer Sister (Nagisa Oshima)
No.97 - The Morning Schedule (Susumu Hani)
No.98 - The Music, Masumura Yasushi
No.99 - Eulogy (Kaneto Shindô)
No.100 - Aesthetics of a Bullet (Sadao Nakajima)
No.101 - The Wanderers (Kon Ichikawa)
No.102 - Coup d’État (Kiju Yoshida)
No.103 - Play It Again, Sam, Woody Allen
No.104 - The Liberation of LB Jones, William Wyler
No.105 - The Heart, Kaneto Shindô
No.106 - Jongara, Saitô Kôichi
No.107 - Muriel, Alain Resnais
No.108 - Himiko, Shinoda Masahiro
No.109 - The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Luis Buñuel
No.110 - Carol, Jin Tatsumura
No.111 - The Assassination of Ryoma (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.112 - Life of a Court Lady (Akio Jissoji)
No.113 - Death in the Country, Terayama Shûji
No.114 - Human Bullet, Okamoto Kihachi
No.115 - Kenji Mizoguchi: The Life of a Filmmaker, Kaneto Shindo
No.116 - Love Affair, Yoshida Kenji
No.117 - Demons, Matsumoto Toshio
No.118 - Death at an Old Mansion, Takabayashi Yoichi
No.119 - Preparation for a Festival (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.120 - Variations, Nakahira Yasushi
No.121 - Dead Horizon, Juro Kara
No.122 - The Golden Pavilion, Takabayashi Yoichi
No.123 - The Youth Killer (Kazuhiko Hasegawa)
No.124 - The Japanese Belly Button (Eizo Sugawa)
No.125 - Furenzoku Satsujin Jiken, Sone Chûsei
No.126 - Eros Eterna (Koji Wakamatsu)
No.127 - Kuroki Taro: Love and Adventure, Morisaki Azuma
No.128 - Double Suicide at Nishizin, Takabayashi Yôichi
No.129 - Winter Song, Yamaguchi Seiichirô
No.130 - Puppets Under Starry Skies, Hashiura Houjin
No.131 - Nuclear War, Kuroki Kazuo
No.132 - Sado, Higashi Yôichi
No.133 - Double Suicide at Sonezaki, Masumura Yasushi
No.134 - Disqualified Person, Yoshidome Hiroshi
No.135 - Farewell to the Summer Light, Yoshida Kenji
No.136 - Mahiru Nari, Gotô Kôichi
No.137 - Youth PART II (Koyu Ohara)
No.138 - The Strangling (Kaneto Shindo)
No.139 - Keiko, Claude Gagnon
No.140 - No More Easy Life, Higashi Yôichi
No.141 - The Sound of the Tidal Sea, Hashiura Houjin
No.142 - Disciples of Hippocrates, Ômori Kazuki
No.143 - Mr. Mrs. Miss Lonely (Tatsumi Kumashiro)
No.144 - Zigeunerweisen (Seijun Suzuki)
No.145 - Empire of Kids, Izutsu Kazuyuki
No.146 - Distant Thunder, Negishi Yoshitarou
No.147 - Hear the Wind Sing (Kazuki Ohmori)
No.148 - At This Late Date, The Charleston (Kihachi Okamoto)
No.149 - Lonely Hearts Club Band in September (Shunichi Nagasaki)
No.150 - Tatoo Ari (Banmei Takahashi)
No.151 - Mysterious Story: The Living Koheiji, Nakagawa Nobuo
No.152 - Kidnapping Blues, Asai Makoto
No.153 - The Family Game (Yoshimitsu Morita)
No.154 - The Deserted City (Nobuhiko Obayashi)
No.155 - Honeymoon, Hashiura Houjin
No.156 - Exchange Students, Ôbayashi Nobuhiko
No.157 - Mermaid Legend (Toshiharu Ikeda)
No.158 - The Crazy Family (Sogo Ishii)
No.159 - Farewell to the Ark (Shuji Terayama)
No.160 - Until the Party Declares Itself Dead, I Live with Flowers, Morisaki Azuma
No.161 - Did You See the Barefoot God? (Kim Soo-Gil)
No.162 - Snow Mountain, Ôbayashi Nobuhiko
No.163 - Remembrance (Takehiro Nakajima)
No.164 - A Sandcastle Model Family Home, Suzuki Junichi
[Japanese Titles]
No.01「尼僧ヨアンナ」イエジー・カワレロウィッチ
No.02「オルフェの遺言」ジャン・コクトー
No.03「おとし穴」勅使河原 宏
No.04「２ペンスの希望」レナート・カステラーニ
No.05「もだえ」アルフ・シェーベリイ
No.06「ウンベルト・D」ヴィットリオ・デ・シーカ
No.07「野いちご」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.08「アレクサンドル・ネフスキー」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.09「みんなわが子」家城 巳代治
No.10「夜行列車」イエジー・カワレロウィッチ
No.11「二十歳の恋」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.12「5時から7時までのクレオ」アニエス・バルダ
No.13「夜の終わりに」アンジェイ・ワイダ
No.14「ピアニストを撃て」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.15「僕の村は戦場だった」アンドレイ・タルコフスキー
No.16「彼女と彼」羽仁 進
No.17「第七の封印 」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.18「イレクトラ」マイケル・カコヤニス
No.19「女ともたち」多賀祥介編
No.20「イワン雷帝」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.21「私はそんな女」シドニー・ルメット
No.22「去年マリエンバートで」アラン・ルネ
No.23「鏡の中にある如く」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.24「かくも長き不在」アンリ・コルピ
No.25「ビリディアナ」ブーヌエル
No.26「パサジェルカ」アンジェイ・ムンク
No.27「送られなかった手紙」ミハイル・カラトーゾフ
No.28「アメリカの影」ジョン・カサヴェテス
No.29「復活」ミハイル・シバイツェル
No.30「野望の系列」オットー・プレミンジャー
No.31「孤独の報酬」リンゼイ・アンダースン
No.32「道化師の夜」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.33「小犬をつれた貴婦人」ヨシフ・ヘイフィツ
No.34「戦争の真の終り」イェジー・カワレロウイッチ
No.35「8 1/2」フェデリコ・フェリーニ
No.36「明日を生きる」マリオ・モニチェリ
No.37「八月の砲声」ネイザン・クロール
No.38「とべない沈黙」黒木和雄
No.39「太陽は光り輝く」ジョン・フォード
No.40「小間使の日記」ルイス・ブニュエル
No.41「市民ケーン」オーソンウェルズ
No.42「銃殺」ジョセフ・ロージー
No.43「愛のレッスン」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.44「大地のうた」サタジットライ
No.45「魂のジュリエッタ」フェリーニ
No.46「汚れなき抱擁」ボロニーニ/カルディナーレ
No.47「忍者武芸帳」白土三平
No.48「真実の瞬間」フランチェスコ・ロージ
No.49「ラブド・ワン」トニー・リチャードスン
No.50「気狂ピエロ」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.51「河 あの裏切りが重く」森弘太
No.52「戦艦ポチョムキン」エイゼンシュテイン
No.53「戦争は終わった」アラン・レネ
No.54「華氏４５１」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.55「絞死刑」大島渚
No.56「召使」ジョセフロージー
No.57「ベトナムから遠く離れて」アラン・レネ
No.58「初恋・地獄篇」羽仁進
No.59「男性・女性」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.60「ヒットラーなんか知らないよ」
No.61「夜のダイヤモンド」ヤン・ニェメッツ
No.62「肉弾」岡本 喜八
No.63「マルキ・ド・サドの〜迫害と演出」
No.64「小さな兵隊」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.65「新宿泥棒日記」大島渚/横尾忠則
No.66「火の馬」ミハイルコシュビンスキー
No.67「ポリーマグーお前は誰だ」クライン
No.68「心中天網島」篠田正浩
No.69「少年」大島渚
No.70「薔薇の葬列」松本俊夫
No.71「ウイークエンド」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.72「ジャンヌダルク裁判」ロベールブレッソン
No.73「十月」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.74「地の群れ」熊井啓
No.75「エロス＋虐殺」吉田喜重
No.76「バルタザールどこへ行く」ロベールブレッソ
No.77「アルファヴィル」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.78「東京戦争戦後秘話」大島渚
No.79「無常」実相寺 昭雄
No.80「煉獄エロイカ」吉田喜重
No.81「アントニオ・ダス・モルテス」グラウベル・ローシャ
No.82「大河のうた」サタジットライ
No.83「日本の悪霊」黒木和雄
No.84「修羅」松本俊夫
No.85「袋小路」ロマンポランスキー
No.86「書を捨てよ町へ出よう」寺山修司
No.87「儀式」大島渚
No.88「野いちご」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.89「曼荼羅」実相寺 昭雄
No.90「あらかじめ失われた恋人たちよ」田原総一朗
No.91「告白的女優論」吉田喜重
No.92「真夜中のパーティ」ウイリアム・フリードキン
No.93「天使の恍惚」若松孝二
No.94「鉄輪」新藤兼人
No.95「歌」実相寺昭雄
No.96「夏の妹」大島渚
No.97「午前中の時間割り」羽仁進
No.98「音楽」増村保造
No.99「讃歌」新藤 兼人
No.100「鉄砲玉の美学」中島貞夫
No.101「股旅」市川崑
No.102「戒厳令」吉田喜重
No.103「ボギー！俺も男だ」ウディ・アレン
No.104「L.B.ジョーンズの解放」ウィリアム・ワイラー
No.105「心」新藤 兼人
No.106「津軽じょんがら節」斉藤 耕一
No.107「ミュリエル」アラン・ルネ
No.108「銅鐸銅鏡」篠田正浩
No.109「ブルジョワジーの密かな愉しみ」ルイス・ブニュエル
No.110「キャロル」龍村 仁
No.111「竜馬暗殺」黒木和雄
No.112「あさき夢みし」実相寺昭雄
No.113「田園に死す」寺山修司
No.114「吶喊」岡本喜八
No.115「ある映画監督の生涯」新藤兼人
No.116「鴎よ、きらめく海をみたかめぐり逢い」吉田憲二
No.117「鬼の詩」村野鐵太郎
No.118「本陣殺人事件」高林陽一
No.119「祭りの準備」黒木 和雄
No.120「変奏曲」中平 康
No.121「任侠外伝 玄界灘」唐十郎
No.122「金閣寺」高林陽一
No.123「青春の殺人者」長谷川和彦
No.124「日本人のへそ」須川栄三
No.125「不連続殺人事件」曽根中生
No.126「聖母観音大菩薩」若松孝二
No.127「黒木太郎の愛と冒険」森崎東
No.128「西陣心中」高林陽一
No.129「北村透谷 わが冬の歌」山口清一郎
No.130「星空のマリオネット」橋浦方人
No.131「原子力戦争」黒木和雄
No.132「サード」東陽一
No.133「曾根崎心中」増村保造
No.134「新・人間失格」吉留絋平
No.135「君はいま光のなかに」吉田憲二
No.136「正午なり」後藤幸一
No.137「青春PART�」小原宏裕
No.138「絞殺」新藤兼人
No.139「Keiko」クロード・ガニオン
No.140「もう頬づえはつかない」東陽一
No.141「海潮音」橋浦方人
No.142「ヒポクラテスたち」大森一樹
No.143「ミスター・ミセス・ミス・ロンリー」神代辰巳
No.144「ツィゴイネルワイゼン」鈴木清順
No.145「ガキ帝国」井筒和幸
No.146「遠雷」根岸吉太郎
No.147「風の歌を聴け」大森一樹
No.148「近頃なぜかチャールストン」岡本喜八
No.149「九月の冗談クラブバンド」長崎俊一
No.150「TATTOO[刺青]あり」高橋伴明
No.151「生きている小平次」中川信夫
No.152「キッドナップ・ブルース」浅井慎平
No.153「家族ゲーム」森田芳光
No.154「廃市」大林宣彦
No.155「蜜月」橋浦方人
No.156「転校生」大林宣彦
No.157「人魚伝説」池田俊春
No.158「逆噴射家族」石井聰亙
No.159「さらば箱舟」寺山修司
No.160「生きてるうちが花なのよ死んだらそれまでよ党宣言」森崎東
No.161「君は裸足の神を見たか」金秀吉/今村昌平
No.162「野ゆき山ゆき海べゆき」大林宣彦
No.163「郷愁」中島丈博
No.164「砂の上のロビンソン」すずき じゅんいち
[English Titles]
No.01 - Mother Joan of the Angels (Jerzy Kawalerowicz)
No.02 - Testament of Orpheus (Jean Cocteau)
No.03 – Pitfall (Hiroshi Teshigahara)
No.04 – 2 Cents Worth of Hope, Renato Castellani
No.05 – Torment, Alf Sjöberg
No.06 - Umberto D., Vittorio De Sica
No.07 - Wild Strawberries, Ingmar Bergman
No.08 - Alexander Nevsky, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.09 – All My Children (Miyoji Ieki)
No.10 - Night Train, Jerzy Kawalerowicz
No.11 - Love at Twenty, François Truffaut
No.12 - Cleo From 5 to 7, Agnes Varda
No.13 - Innocent Sorcerers, Andrzej Wajda
No.14 - Shoot the Piano Player, François Truffaut
No.15 - Andrei Rublev, Andrei Tarkovsky
No.16 - She and He (Susumu Hani)
No.17 - The Seventh Seal, Ingmar Bergman
No.18 - Electra, Michael Cacoyyanis
No.19 - The Girl Friends, Michelangelo Antonioni
No.20 - Ivan the Terrible, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.21 - That Kind of Woman, Sidney Lumet
No.22 - Last Year at Marienbad, Alain Resnais
No.23 – Through a Glass Darkly, Ingmar Bergman
No.24 - The Long Absence, Henri Colpi
No.25 - Viridiana, Luis Buñuel
No.26 - Pasazerka, Andrzej Munk
No.27 - The Unmailed Letter, Mikhail Kalatozov
No.28 - Shadows, John Cassavetes
No.29 - Resurrection, Mikhail Shveitser
No.30 - Advise and Consent, Otto Preminger
No.31 - This Sporting Life, Lindsay Anderson
No.32 - The Presence of a Clown, Ingmar Bergman
No.33 - The Lady with the Little Dog, Iosif Kheifits
No.34 - The Real End of the Great War, Jerzy Kawarlerowicz
No.35 - 8½, Federico Fellini
No.36 - The Organizer, Mario Monicelli
No.37 - The Guns of August, Nathan Crawling
No.38 - Silence Has No Wings (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.39 - The Sun Shines Bright, John Ford
No.40 - Diary of a Chambermaid, Luis Buñuel
No.41 - Citizen Kane, Orson Welles
No.42 - King & Country, Joseph Rosie
No.43 - A Lesson in Love, Ingmar Bergman
No.44 - Pather Panchali, Satyajit Ray
No.45 - Juliette of the Spirits, Federico Fellini
No.46 - Bell’ Antonio, Mauro Bolognini
No.47 - Band of Ninja, Ôshima Nagisa
No.48 - The Moment of Truth, Francesco Rosi
No.49 - The Loved One, Tony Richardson
No.50 - Pierrot le Fou, Jean Luc Godard
No.51 - The River: Poem of Wrath (Kota Mori)
No.52 - Battleship Potemkin (Sergei M. Eisenstein)
No.53 - La Guerra est Finie, Alain Resnais
No.54 - Fahrenheit 451, François Truffaut
No.55 - Death By Hanging, Ôshima Nagisa
No.56 - The Servant, Joseph Rosie
No.57 - Loin du Vietnam, Alain Resnais
No.58 - Nanami: The Inferno of First Love (Susumu Hani)
No.59 - Masculin Feminin, Jean Luc Godard
No.60 - Hitler…Connais Pas, Bertrand Briey
No.61 - Diamonds of the Night, Jan Nemec
No.62 - Nikudan, Okamoto Kihachi
No.63 – Sade/Muller, Peter Brook
No.64 - La Petit Solidat, Jean Luc Godard
No.65 - Diary of a Shinjuku Thief (Nagisa Oshima)
No.66 - Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Sergei Paradjanov
No.67 - Who are you, Polly Maggoo?, William Klein
No.68 - Double Suicide (Masahiro Shinoda)
No.69 - Boy (Nagisa Oshima)
No.70 - Funeral Parade of Roses (Toshio Matsumoto)
No.71 - Weekend, Jean Luc Godard
No.72 - The Trial of Joan of Arc, Robert Bresson
No.73 - October, Sergei M. Eisenstein
No.74 - Apart from Life, Kei Kumai
No.75 - Eros + Massacre (Kiju Yoshida)
No.76 - Au Hasard Balthazar, Robert Bresson
No.77 - Alphaville, Jean Luc Godard
No.78 - The Man Who Left His Will on Film, Ôshima Nagisa
No.79 - This Transient Life (Akio Jissoji)
No.80 - Heroic Purgatory (Kiju Yoshida)
No.81 - Antonio Das Mortes (Glauber Rocha)
No.82 - Aparajito, Satyajit Ray
No.83 - Evil Spirits of Japan (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.84 - Demons (Toshio Matsumoto)
No.85 - Cul-de-sac, Roman Polanski
No.86 - Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets (Shuji Terayama)
No.87 - The Ceremony (Nagisa Oshima)
No.88 - Wild Strawberries, Ingmar Bergman
No.89 - Mandala (Akio Jissoji)
No.90 - Lost Lovers (Kunio Shimizu, Sôichirô Tahara)
No.91 - Confessions Among Actresses (Kiju Yoshida)
No.92 - The Boys in the Band, William Friedkin
No.93 - Ecstasy of Angels (Koji Wakamatsu)
No.94 - The Iron Crown (Kaneto Shindo)
No.95 - Poem, Jissojii Akio
No.96 - Dear Summer Sister (Nagisa Oshima)
No.97 - The Morning Schedule (Susumu Hani)
No.98 - The Music, Masumura Yasushi
No.99 - Eulogy (Kaneto Shindô)
No.100 - Aesthetics of a Bullet (Sadao Nakajima)
No.101 - The Wanderers (Kon Ichikawa)
No.102 - Coup d’État (Kiju Yoshida)
No.103 - Play It Again, Sam, Woody Allen
No.104 - The Liberation of LB Jones, William Wyler
No.105 - The Heart, Kaneto Shindô
No.106 - Jongara, Saitô Kôichi
No.107 - Muriel, Alain Resnais
No.108 - Himiko, Shinoda Masahiro
No.109 - The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Luis Buñuel
No.110 - Carol, Jin Tatsumura
No.111 - The Assassination of Ryoma (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.112 - Life of a Court Lady (Akio Jissoji)
No.113 - Death in the Country, Terayama Shûji
No.114 - Human Bullet, Okamoto Kihachi
No.115 - Kenji Mizoguchi: The Life of a Filmmaker, Kaneto Shindo
No.116 - Love Affair, Yoshida Kenji
No.117 - Demons, Matsumoto Toshio
No.118 - Death at an Old Mansion, Takabayashi Yoichi
No.119 - Preparation for a Festival (Kazuo Kuroki)
No.120 - Variations, Nakahira Yasushi
No.121 - Dead Horizon, Juro Kara
No.122 - The Golden Pavilion, Takabayashi Yoichi
No.123 - The Youth Killer (Kazuhiko Hasegawa)
No.124 - The Japanese Belly Button (Eizo Sugawa)
No.125 - Furenzoku Satsujin Jiken, Sone Chûsei
No.126 - Eros Eterna (Koji Wakamatsu)
No.127 - Kuroki Taro: Love and Adventure, Morisaki Azuma
No.128 - Double Suicide at Nishizin, Takabayashi Yôichi
No.129 - Winter Song, Yamaguchi Seiichirô
No.130 - Puppets Under Starry Skies, Hashiura Houjin
No.131 - Nuclear War, Kuroki Kazuo
No.132 - Sado, Higashi Yôichi
No.133 - Double Suicide at Sonezaki, Masumura Yasushi
No.134 - Disqualified Person, Yoshidome Hiroshi
No.135 - Farewell to the Summer Light, Yoshida Kenji
No.136 - Mahiru Nari, Gotô Kôichi
No.137 - Youth PART II (Koyu Ohara)
No.138 - The Strangling (Kaneto Shindo)
No.139 - Keiko, Claude Gagnon
No.140 - No More Easy Life, Higashi Yôichi
No.141 - The Sound of the Tidal Sea, Hashiura Houjin
No.142 - Disciples of Hippocrates, Ômori Kazuki
No.143 - Mr. Mrs. Miss Lonely (Tatsumi Kumashiro)
No.144 - Zigeunerweisen (Seijun Suzuki)
No.145 - Empire of Kids, Izutsu Kazuyuki
No.146 - Distant Thunder, Negishi Yoshitarou
No.147 - Hear the Wind Sing (Kazuki Ohmori)
No.148 - At This Late Date, The Charleston (Kihachi Okamoto)
No.149 - Lonely Hearts Club Band in September (Shunichi Nagasaki)
No.150 - Tatoo Ari (Banmei Takahashi)
No.151 - Mysterious Story: The Living Koheiji, Nakagawa Nobuo
No.152 - Kidnapping Blues, Asai Makoto
No.153 - The Family Game (Yoshimitsu Morita)
No.154 - The Deserted City (Nobuhiko Obayashi)
No.155 - Honeymoon, Hashiura Houjin
No.156 - Exchange Students, Ôbayashi Nobuhiko
No.157 - Mermaid Legend (Toshiharu Ikeda)
No.158 - The Crazy Family (Sogo Ishii)
No.159 - Farewell to the Ark (Shuji Terayama)
No.160 - Until the Party Declares Itself Dead, I Live with Flowers, Morisaki Azuma
No.161 - Did You See the Barefoot God? (Kim Soo-Gil)
No.162 - Snow Mountain, Ôbayashi Nobuhiko
No.163 - Remembrance (Takehiro Nakajima)
No.164 - A Sandcastle Model Family Home, Suzuki Junichi
[Japanese Titles]
No.01「尼僧ヨアンナ」イエジー・カワレロウィッチ
No.02「オルフェの遺言」ジャン・コクトー
No.03「おとし穴」勅使河原 宏
No.04「２ペンスの希望」レナート・カステラーニ
No.05「もだえ」アルフ・シェーベリイ
No.06「ウンベルト・D」ヴィットリオ・デ・シーカ
No.07「野いちご」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.08「アレクサンドル・ネフスキー」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.09「みんなわが子」家城 巳代治
No.10「夜行列車」イエジー・カワレロウィッチ
No.11「二十歳の恋」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.12「5時から7時までのクレオ」アニエス・バルダ
No.13「夜の終わりに」アンジェイ・ワイダ
No.14「ピアニストを撃て」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.15「僕の村は戦場だった」アンドレイ・タルコフスキー
No.16「彼女と彼」羽仁 進
No.17「第七の封印 」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.18「イレクトラ」マイケル・カコヤニス
No.19「女ともたち」多賀祥介編
No.20「イワン雷帝」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.21「私はそんな女」シドニー・ルメット
No.22「去年マリエンバートで」アラン・ルネ
No.23「鏡の中にある如く」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.24「かくも長き不在」アンリ・コルピ
No.25「ビリディアナ」ブーヌエル
No.26「パサジェルカ」アンジェイ・ムンク
No.27「送られなかった手紙」ミハイル・カラトーゾフ
No.28「アメリカの影」ジョン・カサヴェテス
No.29「復活」ミハイル・シバイツェル
No.30「野望の系列」オットー・プレミンジャー
No.31「孤独の報酬」リンゼイ・アンダースン
No.32「道化師の夜」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.33「小犬をつれた貴婦人」ヨシフ・ヘイフィツ
No.34「戦争の真の終り」イェジー・カワレロウイッチ
No.35「8 1/2」フェデリコ・フェリーニ
No.36「明日を生きる」マリオ・モニチェリ
No.37「八月の砲声」ネイザン・クロール
No.38「とべない沈黙」黒木和雄
No.39「太陽は光り輝く」ジョン・フォード
No.40「小間使の日記」ルイス・ブニュエル
No.41「市民ケーン」オーソンウェルズ
No.42「銃殺」ジョセフ・ロージー
No.43「愛のレッスン」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.44「大地のうた」サタジットライ
No.45「魂のジュリエッタ」フェリーニ
No.46「汚れなき抱擁」ボロニーニ/カルディナーレ
No.47「忍者武芸帳」白土三平
No.48「真実の瞬間」フランチェスコ・ロージ
No.49「ラブド・ワン」トニー・リチャードスン
No.50「気狂ピエロ」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.51「河 あの裏切りが重く」森弘太
No.52「戦艦ポチョムキン」エイゼンシュテイン
No.53「戦争は終わった」アラン・レネ
No.54「華氏４５１」フランソワ・トリュフォー
No.55「絞死刑」大島渚
No.56「召使」ジョセフロージー
No.57「ベトナムから遠く離れて」アラン・レネ
No.58「初恋・地獄篇」羽仁進
No.59「男性・女性」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.60「ヒットラーなんか知らないよ」
No.61「夜のダイヤモンド」ヤン・ニェメッツ
No.62「肉弾」岡本 喜八
No.63「マルキ・ド・サドの〜迫害と演出」
No.64「小さな兵隊」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.65「新宿泥棒日記」大島渚/横尾忠則
No.66「火の馬」ミハイルコシュビンスキー
No.67「ポリーマグーお前は誰だ」クライン
No.68「心中天網島」篠田正浩
No.69「少年」大島渚
No.70「薔薇の葬列」松本俊夫
No.71「ウイークエンド」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.72「ジャンヌダルク裁判」ロベールブレッソン
No.73「十月」セルゲイ・M・エイゼンシュテイン
No.74「地の群れ」熊井啓
No.75「エロス＋虐殺」吉田喜重
No.76「バルタザールどこへ行く」ロベールブレッソ
No.77「アルファヴィル」ジャン・リュック・ゴダール
No.78「東京戦争戦後秘話」大島渚
No.79「無常」実相寺 昭雄
No.80「煉獄エロイカ」吉田喜重
No.81「アントニオ・ダス・モルテス」グラウベル・ローシャ
No.82「大河のうた」サタジットライ
No.83「日本の悪霊」黒木和雄
No.84「修羅」松本俊夫
No.85「袋小路」ロマンポランスキー
No.86「書を捨てよ町へ出よう」寺山修司
No.87「儀式」大島渚
No.88「野いちご」イングマール・ベルイマン
No.89「曼荼羅」実相寺 昭雄
No.90「あらかじめ失われた恋人たちよ」田原総一朗
No.91「告白的女優論」吉田喜重
No.92「真夜中のパーティ」ウイリアム・フリードキン
No.93「天使の恍惚」若松孝二
No.94「鉄輪」新藤兼人
No.95「歌」実相寺昭雄
No.96「夏の妹」大島渚
No.97「午前中の時間割り」羽仁進
No.98「音楽」増村保造
No.99「讃歌」新藤 兼人
No.100「鉄砲玉の美学」中島貞夫
No.101「股旅」市川崑
No.102「戒厳令」吉田喜重
No.103「ボギー！俺も男だ」ウディ・アレン
No.104「L.B.ジョーンズの解放」ウィリアム・ワイラー
No.105「心」新藤 兼人
No.106「津軽じょんがら節」斉藤 耕一
No.107「ミュリエル」アラン・ルネ
No.108「銅鐸銅鏡」篠田正浩
No.109「ブルジョワジーの密かな愉しみ」ルイス・ブニュエル
No.110「キャロル」龍村 仁
No.111「竜馬暗殺」黒木和雄
No.112「あさき夢みし」実相寺昭雄
No.113「田園に死す」寺山修司
No.114「吶喊」岡本喜八
No.115「ある映画監督の生涯」新藤兼人
No.116「鴎よ、きらめく海をみたかめぐり逢い」吉田憲二
No.117「鬼の詩」村野鐵太郎
No.118「本陣殺人事件」高林陽一
No.119「祭りの準備」黒木 和雄
No.120「変奏曲」中平 康
No.121「任侠外伝 玄界灘」唐十郎
No.122「金閣寺」高林陽一
No.123「青春の殺人者」長谷川和彦
No.124「日本人のへそ」須川栄三
No.125「不連続殺人事件」曽根中生
No.126「聖母観音大菩薩」若松孝二
No.127「黒木太郎の愛と冒険」森崎東
No.128「西陣心中」高林陽一
No.129「北村透谷 わが冬の歌」山口清一郎
No.130「星空のマリオネット」橋浦方人
No.131「原子力戦争」黒木和雄
No.132「サード」東陽一
No.133「曾根崎心中」増村保造
No.134「新・人間失格」吉留絋平
No.135「君はいま光のなかに」吉田憲二
No.136「正午なり」後藤幸一
No.137「青春PART�」小原宏裕
No.138「絞殺」新藤兼人
No.139「Keiko」クロード・ガニオン
No.140「もう頬づえはつかない」東陽一
No.141「海潮音」橋浦方人
No.142「ヒポクラテスたち」大森一樹
No.143「ミスター・ミセス・ミス・ロンリー」神代辰巳
No.144「ツィゴイネルワイゼン」鈴木清順
No.145「ガキ帝国」井筒和幸
No.146「遠雷」根岸吉太郎
No.147「風の歌を聴け」大森一樹
No.148「近頃なぜかチャールストン」岡本喜八
No.149「九月の冗談クラブバンド」長崎俊一
No.150「TATTOO[刺青]あり」高橋伴明
No.151「生きている小平次」中川信夫
No.152「キッドナップ・ブルース」浅井慎平
No.153「家族ゲーム」森田芳光
No.154「廃市」大林宣彦
No.155「蜜月」橋浦方人
No.156「転校生」大林宣彦
No.157「人魚伝説」池田俊春
No.158「逆噴射家族」石井聰亙
No.159「さらば箱舟」寺山修司
No.160「生きてるうちが花なのよ死んだらそれまでよ党宣言」森崎東
No.161「君は裸足の神を見たか」金秀吉/今村昌平
No.162「野ゆき山ゆき海べゆき」大林宣彦
No.163「郷愁」中島丈博
No.164「砂の上のロビンソン」すずき じゅんいち
Still beauty from Japanese Cinema in the 50's
(Yasujiro Ozu directing Chishu Ryu and Setsuko Hara in Tokyo Monogatari, 1953)
(Ko Nakahira, Yujiro Ishihara and Masahiko Tsugawa in Kurutta Kajitsu, 1956)
(Kon Ichikawa and Natto Wada, in the 50's)quinta-feira, 11 de novembro de 2010
Blogathon Survey Results!
(Click on the image to see all articles)
As you can see, the 60's are, without a doubt, the favorite decade of our readers. Although it's my favorite decade too, I was really surprised, because I guess the 50's are somewhat much more celebrated than the 60's (scholars and critics are almost unanimous regarding that age, calling it "the golden age of japanese film"). And of course, the 90's and the 00's represent the decade in which most of us discovered Japanese cinema, and although those decades came in second place, I was expecting them to be even more voted. Nonetheless, I'm happy to know people out there really enjoy the 60's in all their might and power of subversion and aesthetic and ethic radicalism.Then came our film genre poll:
The results were to be expected here. Period movies are still the most enjoyed and they kind represent japanese film better than any other genre. Of course, Modern dramas are also well represented here (maybe because of Ozu, Naruse?) as well as Yakuza cinema (Fukasaku up to Miike I guess). But what most amazed me was the "Horror" category which only has one vote: wasn't it mostly because of the 90's J-Horror that Japanese cinema has been revitalized in the West? Also, it's interesting to notice that Pink film comes in penultimate place: is it because erotic films can't be taken as seriously as the others (the artistic side of it) ? And then, we have Anime, which I think it would have come in first place, if we were to question all the Anime community (way bigger than Japanese Cinema one). Fortunately, it hasn't been that way.
I wanted to thank Michael from Wildgrounds to make this possible. Once again, congratulations for our work and may Japanese Cinema live in our hearts forever!
segunda-feira, 8 de novembro de 2010
domingo, 7 de novembro de 2010
Interview with Kon Ichikawa
By Joan Mellen (1972)
Joan Mellen: Is the major theme in Japanese films still the struggle between one's duty and the individual desire to be independent and free of traditional values and ideas?
Kon Ichikawa: That is a difficult question with which to begin. I don't know how to answer. Can't we work our way to that and start with the next question?
Q: Sure. the next is an easy one. What is your educational background? What did you study at school and what was the major influence which shaped your ideas?
A: I don't go to a university so I can't say in what I majored. After I left middle school [equivalent to high school] I was always painting and drawing.
Q: Did you become a painter?
A: No, later on, I switched to filmmaking.
Q: How did you start making films?
A: When I was a youth it was the time of the Western film world's so-called renaissance. There were so many great European and American films. They had a great impact on the Japanese. Japanese then began to pursue filmmaking seriously. This influenced me considerably.
Q: Which European and American films or directors most affected you?
A: I should mention the names of filmmakers who moved me very much rather than individual titles. Among them, in America, Charlie Chaplin stands out, as does William Wellman. In France René Clair. Nor can I forget Sternberg and Lubitsch.
Q: Why have Japanese filmmakers been so interested in historical themes and period films?
A: I don't think Japanese films lean particularly toward the jidai-geki, or costume drama. Some people are interested in episodes of a certain era, but I would not want to make the distinction between jidai-geki and gendai-geki. To me they are the same. If I may add my opinion, films which have modern themes and modern implications should not be simply classified as jidai-geki, even if they are set before the Meiji era. They are indeed modern films although they may take the form of costume plays.
Q: You don't think there are more historical films made in Japan than in the United States, although we do have the "Western", which may be thought of as similar to the jidai-geki?
A: We probably have a few more and it may have some significance, in my case for one. It is true of course that there are more jidai-geki made here than gendai-geki. You see. film is an art which involves the direct projection of the time in which we live. It is a difficult point to state clearly, but my general feeling is that Japanese filmmakers are somewhat unable to grasp contemporary society. In your country, there seem to be many more dramatic current themes to portray. To render something into film art we really need to understand thoroughly what we want to describe. Unable to do this, many of us go back to history and try to elucidate certain themes which have implications for modern society.
Q: Is it because Japanese society is undergoing great political and social change at the present time?
A: Yes, that is correct.
Q: Would you like to discuss problems of distribution, production, and financing of your films in Japan in relation to your own experience, for example with your Tokyo Olympiad?
A: We are faced with the most difficult time for all the three problems. We have a very different system from yours. We used to have five major companies which monopolized all bookings. We never had a free booking system. Now the five companies have shrunk into three: Toho, Shochiku and Toei, and these companies still follow the old system of distribution. They don't want to change with the times; they are anachronistic. So groups are forming individual production companies and trying to survive. Financially it is a cruel struggle.
Q: Have you personally formed your own company?
A: At this moment it is an individual production, not yet a company. I am working right now to create a new company which I hope to start in November. This is my first independent attempt, and I have to raise the money by myself. Until now I worked with large companies like Daiei and Toho. I am working on television productions at present to raise money to start my own company.
(Shokei no Heya, 1956)
Q: Did you then make the Kogarashi monjiro episodes to make money rather than a serious works of film art?
A: I would say for both reasons. I should like to make some money on them, but I made them seriously as well. I could never proceed aimlessly.
Q: Are you interested in the theme of political apathy or indifference in the Kogarashi Monjiro stories?
A: Yes, the protagonist is an outlaw and a loner, like an "isolated wold". He is like the character in many Westerns. He is always anti-establishment.
Q: Do you suggest through this character that political action is fruitless, especially in the sense that an isolated individual attempeting to do away with evil would find it impossible?
A: You might say that in terms of the political implications, although the political element is not the main theme. I am much more interested in the search for what defines human nature.
Q: In general would you say that you are more interested in psychological aspects than political?
A: Yes, generally so.
Q: How do you account for the interest in pornography, or rather, the extreme desires of sexual life in Japanese films? I am speaking of the excessive sexual desire which appears even in the work of Imamura and in your own film Kagi (The Key)?
A: I really don't know how to answer that question. I thought that in Japan sex was not given the prominence than the United States has given to it. In Japan, sex itself is not treated as a force able to change an entire aspect of social existence. I am referring to plays like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or A Streetcar Named Desire. These works face up to the problem of sexuality in the human being. Well, in Japan we don't have such plays. Sex is not as important a problem in Japan as it is in the United States.
Q: Would you say that in Kagi the sex was treated comically or satirically rather than seriously?
A: I used it as a criticism of civilization, of our culture.
Q: In what way? Which aspect of civilization are you criticizing?
A: The conlict between the soul or heart and desire.
Q: I find that a difficult idea to grasp.
A: It is difficult to explain in words, but Kagi is really not a movie about sex, at least not very much so. It is a story of human vanity and nothingness. It describes the humanness of the character through the vantage of sex. I should say that the sex is deformed to impart the struggle of human beings. Sex connects to one's search for humanity, one's true thoughts and position in society.
Q: Then the true subject is not sexuality, but the sex functions as a symbol?
A: Yes that is exactly it.
Q: Why does the servant poison the three surviving people at the end of the film? This aspect of the plot was not used in the original novel by Tanizaki.
A: These three people are representatives of the human without possessing human souls. They are not really human beings. The servant is going to annihilate them because the servant represents the director. I wanted to deny them all.
Q: Then it is the moral judgment of the director on these three people?
A: Yes.
Q: What aspect of the original novel, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, were you interested in when you made Enjo?
A: In this film, I wanted to show the poverty in Japan.
Q: Who wanted to show the poverty especially, you or Mishima?
A: No, I.
Q: Is it a material or spiritual poverty?
A: I started from the economic and naturally pursued the spiritual also, because it is the story of man. The economic side represents sixty per cent and the spirital forty percent.
Q: Doesn't this indicate a strong political element in your words?
A: Only for this film in which spiritual poverty is caused by economic poverty. Usually I don't consider myself a politically minded director. When I am making a film, I don't think of the political side of the film very much; it is not the main thing.
Q: Maybe political is the wrong word. By "political" I mean social consciousness, the relationship between the individual and society, not in the sense of political parties.
A: Then yes, that is important to my work. I am both aware of and concerned with social consciousness.
Q: Is there any similarity between your private Mizushima in Harp of Burma and Goichi Mizoguchi in Enjo?
A: They represent the youth in Japan. In the case od Mizushima the time was the middle of the war, and with Goichi it was just after the war. In this sense, both whether a soldier or not, represent Japanese youth.
(Biruma no Tategoto, 1956)
Q: What is the origin of their disillusionment with the world? Are they each disillusioned about in a general way? Although their behaviour is, of course, different: one leaves the world to become a Buddhist monk and decides never to return to Japan and Goichi in Enjo burns down one of the most famous shrines in Japan.
A: Both are very young, and both are in search of something. Neither knows exactly what he is after, as they are still young. Both thrust themselves against the thick wall of reality and disillusionment trying to find out what they desire.
Q: As in the burning of the temple. What do they desire?
A: Truth.
Q: Is it the truth of themselves or of the world?
A: The truth of their own lives.
Q: Is the meaning they seek in their lives similar to that of Watanabe in Kurosawa's Ikiru? Watanabe of course is an old man.
A: Possibly so. I can say it is close. It depends on the viewer's interpretation.
Q: What is the statement about the nature of war that you are making in Fires on the Plain?
A: War is an extreme situation which can change the nature of man. For this reason, I consider it to be the the greatest sin.
Q: Do you use a social situation like war as a device to explore the human character? The social situation would be a means of showing what the human being is capable of - as in Tamura's cannibalism, homicide, or the massacre in the film - as opposed to showing what happens in a society that leads to war?
A: I use the situation of war partly for this reason, but also to show the limits within which a moral existence is possible.
Q: Why do you have Private Tamura die at the end?
A: I let him die. In the original novel he survives to return to Japan, enters a mental institution, and lives there. I thought he should rest peacefully in the world of death. The death was my salvation to him.
Q: What he saw made him unable to continue to live in this world?
A: Yes, he couldn't live in this world any longer after that. This is my declaration of total denial of war, total negation of war.
Q: In Alone in Pacific you seem to be saying that determination is important, not what you do, nor the nature of the act.
A: Yes. That was my precise conception.
Q: Isn't what we do important? Wouldn't you say that there is some distintion between doing some useful thing and voyaging alone on the pacific?
A: No, no difference.
Q: In Japanese films and in yours in particular, much more so than in Western films, there seem to be mixtures of styles or rather varied methods of filmmaking which are combined sometimes even within a single film. Many of your films, and those of Oshima and Shindo for example, are so completely different from one work to the next. Is this a special characteristic of the Japanese film? I am thinking in particular of your segment of A Woman's Testament.
A: [Laughs] Do you think so! Probably you are examining the films in great detail! We don't see this particularly. I believe that expression should be free, so this notion may affect the fact that you have just described. But I am never conscious of differentiating my methods or that I have one single special style. All depends on the story or the drama on which I am working.
Q: This seems to be something unique about the Japanese film. In American films one director's works are generally similar, especially among the older directors.
A: I think each should differ according to what is being expressed. As I am Ichikawa and no one else, even when I try to change the style according to the theme there is always some similarity from one film to the next. Right now I am working with an Italian director, Pasolini. I have really been influenced by him. I consider him one of the greatest filmmakers today. Do you know his work?
Q: Which films of Pasolini do you admire the most?
A: Oedipus Rex, Medea, The Decameron, The Gospel According to St. Mathew, Teorema. I consider Pasolini the finest director making films today. Among American directors I was impressed with Peter Fonda, not with his Easy Rider, but with The Hired Hand. He seems to be very young, yet he has a very good grasp of his subject. He understands love so beautifully. How old is he?
Q: He is about thrity-five. Whom do you admire among the younger Japanese directors?
A: None among the young ones. I don't know any of their films.
Q: How about among the older ones?
A: Mizoguchi, Kurosawa, of course.
Q: In connection with Mizoguchi's Oharu I visited the Rakanji Temple in Tokyo. Didn't he film one of the main scenes there?
A: But it could be that he made that movie in Kyoto. Is Oharu the American title? The title in Japanese is Saikaku Ichidai Onna. You know, there are several Rakanjis.
(Otouto, 1960)
Q: Is there a contradiction in the fact that you seem to praise the family system in Ototo (Her Brother) but attack it in Bonchi? Or were you criticizing the matriarchal family in particular in Bonchi?
A: "Attack" is a strong word, but yes, I have criticized the family system in Ototo and yes, in Bonchi I attack the matriarchy. Ototo takes place in the Taisho era, before the war, about forty years ago, but today we still have much the same problem in our family system. I hold the opinion that each family should be accustomed to respecting the individuality of every member. This is what I wanted to say.
Q: What is your viewpoint in Hakai (The Outcast)?
A: The theme is racial discrimination. Japanese discriminate against burakumin. Originally when the Koreans emigrated to Japan, they brought their slaves with them; these were segregated and called burakumin.
Q: Were you then treating the great discrimination against the Koreans by the Japanese?
A: I think all human beings should be equal.
Q: Did you see Shinoda's Sapporo Winter Olympics? Did you like it?
A: Yes, I liked it, but I thought that there might have been more insights into the psychology of the individuals competing. Visually it is extremely beautiful.
Q:Could you say something about how you used the visual details of the architecture in Enjo to reveal the psychology of the boy?
A: Yes, I sought to do this. This beautiful structure was simply nothing but old decayed timber, no more than that. The boy didn't think so at first, but he gradually realized it.
Q: What is the relationship bewteen his feeling about himself and his feeling about the building?
A: Let me add this. It doesn't have to be the Golden Pavilion. It can be any one of the so-called great monuments in our history. They are so fine. Nobody questioned their greatness because many generations were taught to revere them. Well, in actuality some people think the particular monument, in this case the Golden Pavilion, is great, but some think it is not. Varying opinions should be accepted because excellence is solely dependent upon the viewer's conception.
Q: Does he hate the building and burn it down as an act of self-hatred?
A: Yes, he hated himself and destroyed himself.
Q: The building represented everything which oppressed him?
A: Yes, that expresses it.
Q: Is that why people are shown as very small and the building huge in some scenes? They are individuals very vulnerable to and unable to control outside influences which dominate them, of which the Kinkakuji stands as a symbol.
A: Yes, that's right. One further thing, I wish to stress is that Goichi was handicapped. He stutters and cannot express himself well and in a sense he closes himself off from society. He has a sense of inferiority in relation to that magnificent building and he suffers from his isolation. I myself did not think the Golden Pavilion so great or beautiful a structure. I may be wrong but my point here is that the presence of this great structure does not secure the well-being of human beings around it, or make them happy.
Q: Are you also thereby criticizing the feudal values associated with the Kinkakuji?
A: Somewhat.
Q: Indirectly?
A: Yes, not overtly. It is implicit.
Q: Then the temple itself would be a symbol of the feudal system?
A: Yes it is.
Q: Has there been any influence in your work, or in Japanese film over all, of the impact of the women's liberation movement internationally and in Japan?
A: I believe so. The consciousness of women is surfacing and it affects us all.
Q: There is of course a strong femininism in the work of Mizoguchi, Hani, perhaps Kurosawa too?
A: Mizoguchi and Hani, yes, but Kurosawa hasn't been so influenced.
Q: Why in the recent Japanese film has the conflict between the "civilized" and the "primitive" been a prevalent theme?
A: What do you mean by "primitive"?
Q: The "primitive consists of people and society before industrial technology unnaffected by capitalism or competition, a society living by ancient paterns. I am thinking of Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes and Imamura's Insect Woman.
A: The question is very abstract, and I'm not sure I agree. In Japanese films the primary conflict between two antagonistic forces is the large theme. I am saying as well that Japan as a whole is a very poor society, and economically poor society.
Q: What did you mean when you said that your films were influenced in an important way, by Walt Disney?
A: At the time I was still painting and trying to be an artist I saw "Mickey Mouse" [probably Steamboat Willie]. It made the connection for me between picture drawing and filmmaking. I was very impressed by Disney's skills and methods. No doubt there were many who drew the pictures for him, but he organized the whole thing. Later came Fantasia and Bambi and so on. I entered the staff of a small cartoon-making film company around that time. The early works of Disney influenced me greatly.
Q: Do you consider the Disney films an example of abstract art?
A: Not really; it's a little different from abstract art. The early Disney films were done authentically. Not in the same language as regular films. He had created his work in such a way that he could translate his material into the terms of the general public. Everyone understands him. I mean this favourably. Disney's innovations, his methods of revolutionizing filmmaking deserves a Nobel Prize if we had such a prize for film.
Q: In his later films he turned to praising the American system and existing values, completely ignoring the suffering and despair in our society.
A: Yes, I understand that. He became very conservative. Especially in the eyes of younger people, he must have seemed very, very conservative. But you should not forget the fact that he, at one point of his career, provided dreams and hopes for children all over the world. He still should be remembered for his great contribution to the film industry.
Q: He was, of course, enormously popular when I was a child. But the dreams he offered were ones that could never be fulfilled.
A: Yes, probably so. The times have changed. Today young people probably don't go for him anymore. However, in those days we received much from him.
Q: We can't deny him either because his world remains with us, in our minds. He is part of our childhood. Can you tell me something of your future plans?
A: After Novemeber, our production company and the Art Theatre Guild will start Matatabi (The Wanderers). It is about a tragedy of a very young outlaw. Then I will go to Munich and film the Olympic Games [Visions of Eight]. The movie itself will be made in the United States, but eight directors all over the world were selected to shoot the formal version of the Olympic Games.
Q: Who are the others?
A: Arthur Penn from the United States, Claude Lelouch from France, John Schleisinger from England, Franco Zeffirelli from Italy, and others. Each director can choose the event he wants to film. I choose the 100-metre dash.
(Kon Ichikawa)
Kon Ichikawa: That is a difficult question with which to begin. I don't know how to answer. Can't we work our way to that and start with the next question?
Q: Sure. the next is an easy one. What is your educational background? What did you study at school and what was the major influence which shaped your ideas?
A: I don't go to a university so I can't say in what I majored. After I left middle school [equivalent to high school] I was always painting and drawing.
Q: Did you become a painter?
A: No, later on, I switched to filmmaking.
Q: How did you start making films?
A: When I was a youth it was the time of the Western film world's so-called renaissance. There were so many great European and American films. They had a great impact on the Japanese. Japanese then began to pursue filmmaking seriously. This influenced me considerably.
Q: Which European and American films or directors most affected you?
A: I should mention the names of filmmakers who moved me very much rather than individual titles. Among them, in America, Charlie Chaplin stands out, as does William Wellman. In France René Clair. Nor can I forget Sternberg and Lubitsch.
Q: Why have Japanese filmmakers been so interested in historical themes and period films?
A: I don't think Japanese films lean particularly toward the jidai-geki, or costume drama. Some people are interested in episodes of a certain era, but I would not want to make the distinction between jidai-geki and gendai-geki. To me they are the same. If I may add my opinion, films which have modern themes and modern implications should not be simply classified as jidai-geki, even if they are set before the Meiji era. They are indeed modern films although they may take the form of costume plays.
Q: You don't think there are more historical films made in Japan than in the United States, although we do have the "Western", which may be thought of as similar to the jidai-geki?
A: We probably have a few more and it may have some significance, in my case for one. It is true of course that there are more jidai-geki made here than gendai-geki. You see. film is an art which involves the direct projection of the time in which we live. It is a difficult point to state clearly, but my general feeling is that Japanese filmmakers are somewhat unable to grasp contemporary society. In your country, there seem to be many more dramatic current themes to portray. To render something into film art we really need to understand thoroughly what we want to describe. Unable to do this, many of us go back to history and try to elucidate certain themes which have implications for modern society.
Q: Is it because Japanese society is undergoing great political and social change at the present time?
A: Yes, that is correct.
Q: Would you like to discuss problems of distribution, production, and financing of your films in Japan in relation to your own experience, for example with your Tokyo Olympiad?
A: We are faced with the most difficult time for all the three problems. We have a very different system from yours. We used to have five major companies which monopolized all bookings. We never had a free booking system. Now the five companies have shrunk into three: Toho, Shochiku and Toei, and these companies still follow the old system of distribution. They don't want to change with the times; they are anachronistic. So groups are forming individual production companies and trying to survive. Financially it is a cruel struggle.
Q: Have you personally formed your own company?
A: At this moment it is an individual production, not yet a company. I am working right now to create a new company which I hope to start in November. This is my first independent attempt, and I have to raise the money by myself. Until now I worked with large companies like Daiei and Toho. I am working on television productions at present to raise money to start my own company.
(Shokei no Heya, 1956)Q: Did you then make the Kogarashi monjiro episodes to make money rather than a serious works of film art?
A: I would say for both reasons. I should like to make some money on them, but I made them seriously as well. I could never proceed aimlessly.
Q: Are you interested in the theme of political apathy or indifference in the Kogarashi Monjiro stories?
A: Yes, the protagonist is an outlaw and a loner, like an "isolated wold". He is like the character in many Westerns. He is always anti-establishment.
Q: Do you suggest through this character that political action is fruitless, especially in the sense that an isolated individual attempeting to do away with evil would find it impossible?
A: You might say that in terms of the political implications, although the political element is not the main theme. I am much more interested in the search for what defines human nature.
Q: In general would you say that you are more interested in psychological aspects than political?
A: Yes, generally so.
Q: How do you account for the interest in pornography, or rather, the extreme desires of sexual life in Japanese films? I am speaking of the excessive sexual desire which appears even in the work of Imamura and in your own film Kagi (The Key)?
A: I really don't know how to answer that question. I thought that in Japan sex was not given the prominence than the United States has given to it. In Japan, sex itself is not treated as a force able to change an entire aspect of social existence. I am referring to plays like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or A Streetcar Named Desire. These works face up to the problem of sexuality in the human being. Well, in Japan we don't have such plays. Sex is not as important a problem in Japan as it is in the United States.
Q: Would you say that in Kagi the sex was treated comically or satirically rather than seriously?
A: I used it as a criticism of civilization, of our culture.
Q: In what way? Which aspect of civilization are you criticizing?
A: The conlict between the soul or heart and desire.
Q: I find that a difficult idea to grasp.
A: It is difficult to explain in words, but Kagi is really not a movie about sex, at least not very much so. It is a story of human vanity and nothingness. It describes the humanness of the character through the vantage of sex. I should say that the sex is deformed to impart the struggle of human beings. Sex connects to one's search for humanity, one's true thoughts and position in society.
Q: Then the true subject is not sexuality, but the sex functions as a symbol?
A: Yes that is exactly it.
Q: Why does the servant poison the three surviving people at the end of the film? This aspect of the plot was not used in the original novel by Tanizaki.
A: These three people are representatives of the human without possessing human souls. They are not really human beings. The servant is going to annihilate them because the servant represents the director. I wanted to deny them all.
Q: Then it is the moral judgment of the director on these three people?
A: Yes.
Q: What aspect of the original novel, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, were you interested in when you made Enjo?
A: In this film, I wanted to show the poverty in Japan.
Q: Who wanted to show the poverty especially, you or Mishima?
A: No, I.
Q: Is it a material or spiritual poverty?
A: I started from the economic and naturally pursued the spiritual also, because it is the story of man. The economic side represents sixty per cent and the spirital forty percent.
Q: Doesn't this indicate a strong political element in your words?
A: Only for this film in which spiritual poverty is caused by economic poverty. Usually I don't consider myself a politically minded director. When I am making a film, I don't think of the political side of the film very much; it is not the main thing.
Q: Maybe political is the wrong word. By "political" I mean social consciousness, the relationship between the individual and society, not in the sense of political parties.
A: Then yes, that is important to my work. I am both aware of and concerned with social consciousness.
Q: Is there any similarity between your private Mizushima in Harp of Burma and Goichi Mizoguchi in Enjo?
A: They represent the youth in Japan. In the case od Mizushima the time was the middle of the war, and with Goichi it was just after the war. In this sense, both whether a soldier or not, represent Japanese youth.
(Biruma no Tategoto, 1956)Q: What is the origin of their disillusionment with the world? Are they each disillusioned about in a general way? Although their behaviour is, of course, different: one leaves the world to become a Buddhist monk and decides never to return to Japan and Goichi in Enjo burns down one of the most famous shrines in Japan.
A: Both are very young, and both are in search of something. Neither knows exactly what he is after, as they are still young. Both thrust themselves against the thick wall of reality and disillusionment trying to find out what they desire.
Q: As in the burning of the temple. What do they desire?
A: Truth.
Q: Is it the truth of themselves or of the world?
A: The truth of their own lives.
Q: Is the meaning they seek in their lives similar to that of Watanabe in Kurosawa's Ikiru? Watanabe of course is an old man.
A: Possibly so. I can say it is close. It depends on the viewer's interpretation.
Q: What is the statement about the nature of war that you are making in Fires on the Plain?
A: War is an extreme situation which can change the nature of man. For this reason, I consider it to be the the greatest sin.
Q: Do you use a social situation like war as a device to explore the human character? The social situation would be a means of showing what the human being is capable of - as in Tamura's cannibalism, homicide, or the massacre in the film - as opposed to showing what happens in a society that leads to war?
A: I use the situation of war partly for this reason, but also to show the limits within which a moral existence is possible.
Q: Why do you have Private Tamura die at the end?
A: I let him die. In the original novel he survives to return to Japan, enters a mental institution, and lives there. I thought he should rest peacefully in the world of death. The death was my salvation to him.
Q: What he saw made him unable to continue to live in this world?
A: Yes, he couldn't live in this world any longer after that. This is my declaration of total denial of war, total negation of war.
Q: In Alone in Pacific you seem to be saying that determination is important, not what you do, nor the nature of the act.
A: Yes. That was my precise conception.
Q: Isn't what we do important? Wouldn't you say that there is some distintion between doing some useful thing and voyaging alone on the pacific?
A: No, no difference.
Q: In Japanese films and in yours in particular, much more so than in Western films, there seem to be mixtures of styles or rather varied methods of filmmaking which are combined sometimes even within a single film. Many of your films, and those of Oshima and Shindo for example, are so completely different from one work to the next. Is this a special characteristic of the Japanese film? I am thinking in particular of your segment of A Woman's Testament.
A: [Laughs] Do you think so! Probably you are examining the films in great detail! We don't see this particularly. I believe that expression should be free, so this notion may affect the fact that you have just described. But I am never conscious of differentiating my methods or that I have one single special style. All depends on the story or the drama on which I am working.
Q: This seems to be something unique about the Japanese film. In American films one director's works are generally similar, especially among the older directors.
A: I think each should differ according to what is being expressed. As I am Ichikawa and no one else, even when I try to change the style according to the theme there is always some similarity from one film to the next. Right now I am working with an Italian director, Pasolini. I have really been influenced by him. I consider him one of the greatest filmmakers today. Do you know his work?
Q: Which films of Pasolini do you admire the most?
A: Oedipus Rex, Medea, The Decameron, The Gospel According to St. Mathew, Teorema. I consider Pasolini the finest director making films today. Among American directors I was impressed with Peter Fonda, not with his Easy Rider, but with The Hired Hand. He seems to be very young, yet he has a very good grasp of his subject. He understands love so beautifully. How old is he?
Q: He is about thrity-five. Whom do you admire among the younger Japanese directors?
A: None among the young ones. I don't know any of their films.
Q: How about among the older ones?
A: Mizoguchi, Kurosawa, of course.
Q: In connection with Mizoguchi's Oharu I visited the Rakanji Temple in Tokyo. Didn't he film one of the main scenes there?
A: But it could be that he made that movie in Kyoto. Is Oharu the American title? The title in Japanese is Saikaku Ichidai Onna. You know, there are several Rakanjis.
(Otouto, 1960)Q: Is there a contradiction in the fact that you seem to praise the family system in Ototo (Her Brother) but attack it in Bonchi? Or were you criticizing the matriarchal family in particular in Bonchi?
A: "Attack" is a strong word, but yes, I have criticized the family system in Ototo and yes, in Bonchi I attack the matriarchy. Ototo takes place in the Taisho era, before the war, about forty years ago, but today we still have much the same problem in our family system. I hold the opinion that each family should be accustomed to respecting the individuality of every member. This is what I wanted to say.
Q: What is your viewpoint in Hakai (The Outcast)?
A: The theme is racial discrimination. Japanese discriminate against burakumin. Originally when the Koreans emigrated to Japan, they brought their slaves with them; these were segregated and called burakumin.
Q: Were you then treating the great discrimination against the Koreans by the Japanese?
A: I think all human beings should be equal.
Q: Did you see Shinoda's Sapporo Winter Olympics? Did you like it?
A: Yes, I liked it, but I thought that there might have been more insights into the psychology of the individuals competing. Visually it is extremely beautiful.
Q:Could you say something about how you used the visual details of the architecture in Enjo to reveal the psychology of the boy?
A: Yes, I sought to do this. This beautiful structure was simply nothing but old decayed timber, no more than that. The boy didn't think so at first, but he gradually realized it.
Q: What is the relationship bewteen his feeling about himself and his feeling about the building?
A: Let me add this. It doesn't have to be the Golden Pavilion. It can be any one of the so-called great monuments in our history. They are so fine. Nobody questioned their greatness because many generations were taught to revere them. Well, in actuality some people think the particular monument, in this case the Golden Pavilion, is great, but some think it is not. Varying opinions should be accepted because excellence is solely dependent upon the viewer's conception.
Q: Does he hate the building and burn it down as an act of self-hatred?
A: Yes, he hated himself and destroyed himself.
Q: The building represented everything which oppressed him?
A: Yes, that expresses it.
Q: Is that why people are shown as very small and the building huge in some scenes? They are individuals very vulnerable to and unable to control outside influences which dominate them, of which the Kinkakuji stands as a symbol.
A: Yes, that's right. One further thing, I wish to stress is that Goichi was handicapped. He stutters and cannot express himself well and in a sense he closes himself off from society. He has a sense of inferiority in relation to that magnificent building and he suffers from his isolation. I myself did not think the Golden Pavilion so great or beautiful a structure. I may be wrong but my point here is that the presence of this great structure does not secure the well-being of human beings around it, or make them happy.
Q: Are you also thereby criticizing the feudal values associated with the Kinkakuji?
A: Somewhat.
Q: Indirectly?
A: Yes, not overtly. It is implicit.
Q: Then the temple itself would be a symbol of the feudal system?
A: Yes it is.
Q: Has there been any influence in your work, or in Japanese film over all, of the impact of the women's liberation movement internationally and in Japan?
A: I believe so. The consciousness of women is surfacing and it affects us all.
Q: There is of course a strong femininism in the work of Mizoguchi, Hani, perhaps Kurosawa too?
A: Mizoguchi and Hani, yes, but Kurosawa hasn't been so influenced.
Q: Why in the recent Japanese film has the conflict between the "civilized" and the "primitive" been a prevalent theme?
A: What do you mean by "primitive"?
Q: The "primitive consists of people and society before industrial technology unnaffected by capitalism or competition, a society living by ancient paterns. I am thinking of Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes and Imamura's Insect Woman.
A: The question is very abstract, and I'm not sure I agree. In Japanese films the primary conflict between two antagonistic forces is the large theme. I am saying as well that Japan as a whole is a very poor society, and economically poor society.
Q: What did you mean when you said that your films were influenced in an important way, by Walt Disney?
A: At the time I was still painting and trying to be an artist I saw "Mickey Mouse" [probably Steamboat Willie]. It made the connection for me between picture drawing and filmmaking. I was very impressed by Disney's skills and methods. No doubt there were many who drew the pictures for him, but he organized the whole thing. Later came Fantasia and Bambi and so on. I entered the staff of a small cartoon-making film company around that time. The early works of Disney influenced me greatly.
Q: Do you consider the Disney films an example of abstract art?
A: Not really; it's a little different from abstract art. The early Disney films were done authentically. Not in the same language as regular films. He had created his work in such a way that he could translate his material into the terms of the general public. Everyone understands him. I mean this favourably. Disney's innovations, his methods of revolutionizing filmmaking deserves a Nobel Prize if we had such a prize for film.
Q: In his later films he turned to praising the American system and existing values, completely ignoring the suffering and despair in our society.
A: Yes, I understand that. He became very conservative. Especially in the eyes of younger people, he must have seemed very, very conservative. But you should not forget the fact that he, at one point of his career, provided dreams and hopes for children all over the world. He still should be remembered for his great contribution to the film industry.
Q: He was, of course, enormously popular when I was a child. But the dreams he offered were ones that could never be fulfilled.
A: Yes, probably so. The times have changed. Today young people probably don't go for him anymore. However, in those days we received much from him.
Q: We can't deny him either because his world remains with us, in our minds. He is part of our childhood. Can you tell me something of your future plans?
A: After Novemeber, our production company and the Art Theatre Guild will start Matatabi (The Wanderers). It is about a tragedy of a very young outlaw. Then I will go to Munich and film the Olympic Games [Visions of Eight]. The movie itself will be made in the United States, but eight directors all over the world were selected to shoot the formal version of the Olympic Games.
Q: Who are the others?
A: Arthur Penn from the United States, Claude Lelouch from France, John Schleisinger from England, Franco Zeffirelli from Italy, and others. Each director can choose the event he wants to film. I choose the 100-metre dash.
(Kon Ichikawa)Sadao Yamanaka: Forever New
By Sato Kimitoshi
Ozu Yasujiro spoke of Yamanaka in 1955, seventeen years after Yamanaka's death:
"I am sure that if he were alive now, he would be shooting a modern human drama, not a jidai-geki. For me, it is fascinating to imagine what his films would have been like. He was a great talent, and even his death at less than thirty years of age left us a tremendous legacy of films."
Ozu surely missed the young director, not only because he saw a great potential in his future and the great talent flowering there already, but also because they were good friends receiving a creative stimulus from each other's films. As is often the case with Japanese artists, did they form a master-disciple relationship? No! They exchanged frank opinions: Yamanaka as an assistant director, Yamanaka had established his own style. After the preview of Ozu's first sound feature, The Only Son (1936), Ozu, Yamanaka and others discussed it, drinking sake all night. The critic Kishi Matsuo recalls Yamanaka saying if he had directed the film, he would have made the last scene like this:
"A long corridor in the accommodation barracks of a silk filature factory. A mother thinks about the success that her only son has experienced in Tokyo, and how she is faced with a lonely reality. With resignation, she decides to accept this fate. Realizing that he lives in Tokyo and had one the best he can with his life, the mother has returned home to Shinshu and is cleaning this long, long corridor, singing a popular song she half-learned whilst taking care of her grandson."
It was September 1937, Ozu was 33 and already acclaimed as one of the greatest masters in Japan and Yamanaka, aged 27, was established as a director. I choose not to judge whose is the better ending, Ozu's or Yamanaka's, but what one may appreciate is that Yamanaka's version shows is poetic composition of both visual and aural elements.
Yamanaka was born in Kyoto in 1909. His father, Kisoemon, was a master fan craftsman, and Sadao was his seventh and last child. In 1925, Kisoemon died due to a brain hemorrhage; Sadao was sixteen. During his school days he developed a great love and enthusiasm for the cinema, and after writting a graduate treatise entitled "Kyoto and the Cinema Industry" he got a job working in a film studio. In 1927, he served Kintaro Inoue and others as an assistant director. If by "assistant" one means a messenger boy who runs around, Yamanaka was not a good example. And actress recalls: "His nickname was a "lamp in the daylight"... This long-jawed fella did nothing, he just stood around." Kato in Yamanaka's biography, depicts him as standing behind the camera, watching how a director shot the scene. He kept on feeding screenplays to the production company even whilst on military service. In 1931 he made his first movie, which fascinated Kishi Matsuo, a young critic who eventually become a close friend. Kishi, discovering what he saw as the genius within Yamanaka, wrote an unusually long article on his first film. In 1932 Yamanaka directed four films. Kishi also records Ozu's appraisal of his second film: "His second film. What a second film!" - The next year offered an opportunity for an encounter and Ozu and Yamanaka met and formed a close, life-long friendship.
Ozu wrote, after Inoue Kintaro had suggested he meet Yamanaka:
"Autumn in 1933. Soon after I finished "Passing Fancy" (1933) I entered infantry Unit No.33 for military in Tsu, and was trained there for fifteen days. On my return, I stopped by Kyoto. (...) At that time, Yamanaka was busy creating a new screenplay... I answered: if only Yamanaka could spare time for me... He was already a brilliant talent at the time of directing "The Life of Bangaku" (1933).
The next evening Yamanaka came to Shimokamo. He was in a kimono of a dark blue stripes, wearing wornout geta sandals. He had a dishevelled, unkempt beard and a towel was wrapped around his neck as if he was suffering from a cold. Akiyama Kosaku introduced him to me: "I am Yamanaka", he said. I was surprised to find the man proved quite different from the impression of brilliance his films had made.
We drank sake, talked about cinema and a new day dawned. Yamanaka remained taciturn, and listened to the rest of us sipping sake silently. When we departed in front of the Yasaka Shrine, Yamanaka returned home noncommittally making geta sounds as the day broke. I found him a good mixer because in spite of his busy schedule, and though he had a cold, he drank with us. Watching him walking away, I perceived a truly amicable tolerance and perseverance in his personality."
(Sadao Yamanaka on set, 1937)
Miyagawa Kazuo, the legendary cinematographer, wrote in his autobiography that the pair recognized each other not only as filmmakers, but as soul mates. Yamanaka always asked Miyagawa to buy him a new toothbrush and towel whenever he wanted to go to Tokyo and meet Ozu, and when Yamanaka finally moved to work for Toho in Tokyo, Miyagawa also tried to quit Nikkatsu to accompany him. Miyagawa, who had worked as an assistant cameraman on a subunit for Yamanaka considered the director shared similar camera tastes with Ozu as both preferred a stable low camera position.
It should be also pointed out that Ozu mentions "The Life of Bangaku" as a very decisive movie for the 22-year-old Shindo Kaneto, who saw it in his hometown of Onomichi, where Ozu, in 1953, was to shoot important sequences of "Tokyo Story". Shindo entered the picture house as someone with no real goal in life, and left it with an ambition for cinema. It follows that both Ozu and Shindo love the lost film "The Life of Bangaku". The audience and critics appreciated it highly, but the severest criticism came from the director himself who insisted he should have rearranged the sequence drastically; the first scene should have been the last of the film. Yamanaka stated further: "It was too faithful to the original story." Another witness, Yahiro Fuji, Yamanaka's colleague and scriptwritter says the novelist who wrote the original Bangaku story should have been furious "... because Yamanaka drastically changed it for the film". And, Yahiro adds with a smile: " Yamanaka always ignored the original stories." Japanese viewers received unexpected, almost shocking surprises from his films because they intimately knew the original tales they were based on. Sazen was a strange hero, whereas Yamanaka's Sazen is not. Shinza, in the kabuki play, receives applause by making a spectacular protest like a displaying peacock wooing its mate; Yamanaka's Shinza is a rascal who tries to live up to his own life principles. The director always give us a fresh interpretation of the characters' actions, emotions and intentions within the boundaries of a jidai-geki scenario. We find people in his films to be just as our neighbours are in this modern world.
According to Nogami Teruyo, Kurosawa Akira's assistant and script supervisor, the young Kurosawa, who, at this point had just started out an assistant director, visited Yamanaka during the filming of Humanity and Paper Balloons. Kurosawa found Yamanaka and his crew patiently waiting for a suitable form of clouds to come into view before they would start cameras rolling.
Yamanaka was a free spirit like Kurosawa, though they had quite different artistic backgrounds. Kurosawa movies always remind us of his intensive reading of Russian literature: Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; whilst Yamanaka's background is founded in his deep love for Japanese folklore traditions manifested in such traditional forms as kabuki and kodan. Just as minstrels existed in Medieval Europe, so were kodan orators popular in Japan, even up to the period when Yamanaka was alive. Both instructed people about spiritual traditions their ancestors passed down through generations in a vivid oral representation. We may even see a link to Andrei Tarkosky as they both shared a common love for the same Japanese spiritual traditions.
Yamanaka, deeply rooted in folk wisdom, expressed himself in a modern sophistication. His characters behave independently to the feudal system although, helplessly, they are bound to it. When they crush eachother, their human aspirations inevitably lead them to tragedy, as in Humanity and Paper Baloons, whereas in The Million Ryo Pot (1935) people remain indifferent to money and power to protect themselves from catastrophe.
His artful use of small items convinces us of his adept knowledge of materialistic tendencies. One can speculate he overcam the unfavorable effects of materialism though his love of sports such as rugby, football and baseball. These were new sports for Japan at the time, and Yamanaka belonged to the rugby club at school and frequented the ballparks after he moved to Tokyo. In a discussion with Mizoguchi Kenji and others, a friend teased him by saying that Yamanaka only knew the places in Tokyo where ballparks were.
On April 1, 1937, Yamanaka moved to Tokyo with a firm resolution to seek out new cultural impulses. Ozu has already written in his diary on January 3, 1937:
"Yamanaka sent a postcard saying: from now on we have to go up to Tokyo as the teacher in "The Only Son" said. I may cook pork cutlets in P.C.L. but I can't resist the desire to live and work in Tokyo."
At a further meeting, by chance, in China, in 1938, Ozu found Yamanaka to be writting a notebook on movie-making; this inspired Ozu to start writting his own battlefield diary.
Yamanaka's friend, Mimura Shintaro, wrote the original screenplay of Humanity and Paper Baloons, but alhtough he remained almost consistently faithful to Mimura's dialogue, Yamanaka ignored the original optimistic atmosphere, and its kabuki settings. In Mimura's scenario the underlying mood is a pleasant one where the poor live in the corners of society just as in Renoir's The Lower Depths (1936), but Yamanaka chose an encompassing, pessimistic tone as if he had foreseen his own tragic death. For instance, in Mimura's story the kidnapped girl falls in love with Shinza, and Shinza himself confesses his affection toward her in the end. And Unno, in Mimura's version, is a Ronin who appears, as a single man, to enjoy poverty.
Both the episodes in which the pipe is stolen from rhe blind man and the kidnapping deal struck between Shinza and the landlord are credited as Mimura's inventions; they highlight the continuous struggle for survival and the interdependency of the poor. Yamanaka's further added a sequence where Shinza, before he carries out the duel, makes sure that the umbrella he has acquired returned to its rightful owner. Spirit and loyality within this poorest of social strata hasn't been abandoned but is corrupted by law-breaking and the need to survive, or is delicate and fragile, ready to be snuffed out by those who hold power.
Nakamura Kanemon, who played Shinza, writes:
"At the end of the film a paper balloon, blown by the wind, ends up floating in the ditch of the Nagaya tenement. Yamanaka admits he was inspired by the money blowing in the air in the last scene of Pension Mimosas (1935) by Jacques Feyder; Yamanaka's favorite director. Shooting that sequence was extremely difficult, for the open ditch soon dried out in the scorching heat, and the crew had to leep on feeding it water all the time."
On August, 1937, when Humanity and Paper Balloons was being screened in Tokyo, he received news of his own draft.
One of Yamanaka's diary entries on 7 October, 1937 reads:
"Finally we leave.
Saw a woman running with a baby on her back in a hurry beside the soldiers.
Turmoil at the station.
Marched the Motomachi street after arriving in Kobe.
A difference in complexion between those who cried banzai at the front of Kyoto Station and those in Kobe.
Tragedy of those who exclaim banzai; tragedy of those who receive banzai cries.
Maybe a comedy."
Throughout his brief but productive life, Yamanaka appeared detached from the world and events around him, yet, within this reserved distance, as this diary entry shows, he was always mapping out, even during wartime, inspirations and ideas for films. Tragically, with his life cut short, these films would never come to fruition.
"I am sure that if he were alive now, he would be shooting a modern human drama, not a jidai-geki. For me, it is fascinating to imagine what his films would have been like. He was a great talent, and even his death at less than thirty years of age left us a tremendous legacy of films."
Ozu surely missed the young director, not only because he saw a great potential in his future and the great talent flowering there already, but also because they were good friends receiving a creative stimulus from each other's films. As is often the case with Japanese artists, did they form a master-disciple relationship? No! They exchanged frank opinions: Yamanaka as an assistant director, Yamanaka had established his own style. After the preview of Ozu's first sound feature, The Only Son (1936), Ozu, Yamanaka and others discussed it, drinking sake all night. The critic Kishi Matsuo recalls Yamanaka saying if he had directed the film, he would have made the last scene like this:
"A long corridor in the accommodation barracks of a silk filature factory. A mother thinks about the success that her only son has experienced in Tokyo, and how she is faced with a lonely reality. With resignation, she decides to accept this fate. Realizing that he lives in Tokyo and had one the best he can with his life, the mother has returned home to Shinshu and is cleaning this long, long corridor, singing a popular song she half-learned whilst taking care of her grandson."
It was September 1937, Ozu was 33 and already acclaimed as one of the greatest masters in Japan and Yamanaka, aged 27, was established as a director. I choose not to judge whose is the better ending, Ozu's or Yamanaka's, but what one may appreciate is that Yamanaka's version shows is poetic composition of both visual and aural elements.
Yamanaka was born in Kyoto in 1909. His father, Kisoemon, was a master fan craftsman, and Sadao was his seventh and last child. In 1925, Kisoemon died due to a brain hemorrhage; Sadao was sixteen. During his school days he developed a great love and enthusiasm for the cinema, and after writting a graduate treatise entitled "Kyoto and the Cinema Industry" he got a job working in a film studio. In 1927, he served Kintaro Inoue and others as an assistant director. If by "assistant" one means a messenger boy who runs around, Yamanaka was not a good example. And actress recalls: "His nickname was a "lamp in the daylight"... This long-jawed fella did nothing, he just stood around." Kato in Yamanaka's biography, depicts him as standing behind the camera, watching how a director shot the scene. He kept on feeding screenplays to the production company even whilst on military service. In 1931 he made his first movie, which fascinated Kishi Matsuo, a young critic who eventually become a close friend. Kishi, discovering what he saw as the genius within Yamanaka, wrote an unusually long article on his first film. In 1932 Yamanaka directed four films. Kishi also records Ozu's appraisal of his second film: "His second film. What a second film!" - The next year offered an opportunity for an encounter and Ozu and Yamanaka met and formed a close, life-long friendship.
Ozu wrote, after Inoue Kintaro had suggested he meet Yamanaka:
"Autumn in 1933. Soon after I finished "Passing Fancy" (1933) I entered infantry Unit No.33 for military in Tsu, and was trained there for fifteen days. On my return, I stopped by Kyoto. (...) At that time, Yamanaka was busy creating a new screenplay... I answered: if only Yamanaka could spare time for me... He was already a brilliant talent at the time of directing "The Life of Bangaku" (1933).
The next evening Yamanaka came to Shimokamo. He was in a kimono of a dark blue stripes, wearing wornout geta sandals. He had a dishevelled, unkempt beard and a towel was wrapped around his neck as if he was suffering from a cold. Akiyama Kosaku introduced him to me: "I am Yamanaka", he said. I was surprised to find the man proved quite different from the impression of brilliance his films had made.
We drank sake, talked about cinema and a new day dawned. Yamanaka remained taciturn, and listened to the rest of us sipping sake silently. When we departed in front of the Yasaka Shrine, Yamanaka returned home noncommittally making geta sounds as the day broke. I found him a good mixer because in spite of his busy schedule, and though he had a cold, he drank with us. Watching him walking away, I perceived a truly amicable tolerance and perseverance in his personality."
(Sadao Yamanaka on set, 1937)Miyagawa Kazuo, the legendary cinematographer, wrote in his autobiography that the pair recognized each other not only as filmmakers, but as soul mates. Yamanaka always asked Miyagawa to buy him a new toothbrush and towel whenever he wanted to go to Tokyo and meet Ozu, and when Yamanaka finally moved to work for Toho in Tokyo, Miyagawa also tried to quit Nikkatsu to accompany him. Miyagawa, who had worked as an assistant cameraman on a subunit for Yamanaka considered the director shared similar camera tastes with Ozu as both preferred a stable low camera position.
It should be also pointed out that Ozu mentions "The Life of Bangaku" as a very decisive movie for the 22-year-old Shindo Kaneto, who saw it in his hometown of Onomichi, where Ozu, in 1953, was to shoot important sequences of "Tokyo Story". Shindo entered the picture house as someone with no real goal in life, and left it with an ambition for cinema. It follows that both Ozu and Shindo love the lost film "The Life of Bangaku". The audience and critics appreciated it highly, but the severest criticism came from the director himself who insisted he should have rearranged the sequence drastically; the first scene should have been the last of the film. Yamanaka stated further: "It was too faithful to the original story." Another witness, Yahiro Fuji, Yamanaka's colleague and scriptwritter says the novelist who wrote the original Bangaku story should have been furious "... because Yamanaka drastically changed it for the film". And, Yahiro adds with a smile: " Yamanaka always ignored the original stories." Japanese viewers received unexpected, almost shocking surprises from his films because they intimately knew the original tales they were based on. Sazen was a strange hero, whereas Yamanaka's Sazen is not. Shinza, in the kabuki play, receives applause by making a spectacular protest like a displaying peacock wooing its mate; Yamanaka's Shinza is a rascal who tries to live up to his own life principles. The director always give us a fresh interpretation of the characters' actions, emotions and intentions within the boundaries of a jidai-geki scenario. We find people in his films to be just as our neighbours are in this modern world.
According to Nogami Teruyo, Kurosawa Akira's assistant and script supervisor, the young Kurosawa, who, at this point had just started out an assistant director, visited Yamanaka during the filming of Humanity and Paper Balloons. Kurosawa found Yamanaka and his crew patiently waiting for a suitable form of clouds to come into view before they would start cameras rolling.
Yamanaka was a free spirit like Kurosawa, though they had quite different artistic backgrounds. Kurosawa movies always remind us of his intensive reading of Russian literature: Dostoevsky and Tolstoy; whilst Yamanaka's background is founded in his deep love for Japanese folklore traditions manifested in such traditional forms as kabuki and kodan. Just as minstrels existed in Medieval Europe, so were kodan orators popular in Japan, even up to the period when Yamanaka was alive. Both instructed people about spiritual traditions their ancestors passed down through generations in a vivid oral representation. We may even see a link to Andrei Tarkosky as they both shared a common love for the same Japanese spiritual traditions.
Yamanaka, deeply rooted in folk wisdom, expressed himself in a modern sophistication. His characters behave independently to the feudal system although, helplessly, they are bound to it. When they crush eachother, their human aspirations inevitably lead them to tragedy, as in Humanity and Paper Baloons, whereas in The Million Ryo Pot (1935) people remain indifferent to money and power to protect themselves from catastrophe.
His artful use of small items convinces us of his adept knowledge of materialistic tendencies. One can speculate he overcam the unfavorable effects of materialism though his love of sports such as rugby, football and baseball. These were new sports for Japan at the time, and Yamanaka belonged to the rugby club at school and frequented the ballparks after he moved to Tokyo. In a discussion with Mizoguchi Kenji and others, a friend teased him by saying that Yamanaka only knew the places in Tokyo where ballparks were.
On April 1, 1937, Yamanaka moved to Tokyo with a firm resolution to seek out new cultural impulses. Ozu has already written in his diary on January 3, 1937:
"Yamanaka sent a postcard saying: from now on we have to go up to Tokyo as the teacher in "The Only Son" said. I may cook pork cutlets in P.C.L. but I can't resist the desire to live and work in Tokyo."
At a further meeting, by chance, in China, in 1938, Ozu found Yamanaka to be writting a notebook on movie-making; this inspired Ozu to start writting his own battlefield diary.
Yamanaka's friend, Mimura Shintaro, wrote the original screenplay of Humanity and Paper Baloons, but alhtough he remained almost consistently faithful to Mimura's dialogue, Yamanaka ignored the original optimistic atmosphere, and its kabuki settings. In Mimura's scenario the underlying mood is a pleasant one where the poor live in the corners of society just as in Renoir's The Lower Depths (1936), but Yamanaka chose an encompassing, pessimistic tone as if he had foreseen his own tragic death. For instance, in Mimura's story the kidnapped girl falls in love with Shinza, and Shinza himself confesses his affection toward her in the end. And Unno, in Mimura's version, is a Ronin who appears, as a single man, to enjoy poverty.
Both the episodes in which the pipe is stolen from rhe blind man and the kidnapping deal struck between Shinza and the landlord are credited as Mimura's inventions; they highlight the continuous struggle for survival and the interdependency of the poor. Yamanaka's further added a sequence where Shinza, before he carries out the duel, makes sure that the umbrella he has acquired returned to its rightful owner. Spirit and loyality within this poorest of social strata hasn't been abandoned but is corrupted by law-breaking and the need to survive, or is delicate and fragile, ready to be snuffed out by those who hold power.
Nakamura Kanemon, who played Shinza, writes:
"At the end of the film a paper balloon, blown by the wind, ends up floating in the ditch of the Nagaya tenement. Yamanaka admits he was inspired by the money blowing in the air in the last scene of Pension Mimosas (1935) by Jacques Feyder; Yamanaka's favorite director. Shooting that sequence was extremely difficult, for the open ditch soon dried out in the scorching heat, and the crew had to leep on feeding it water all the time."
On August, 1937, when Humanity and Paper Balloons was being screened in Tokyo, he received news of his own draft.
One of Yamanaka's diary entries on 7 October, 1937 reads:
"Finally we leave.
Saw a woman running with a baby on her back in a hurry beside the soldiers.
Turmoil at the station.
Marched the Motomachi street after arriving in Kobe.
A difference in complexion between those who cried banzai at the front of Kyoto Station and those in Kobe.
Tragedy of those who exclaim banzai; tragedy of those who receive banzai cries.
Maybe a comedy."
Throughout his brief but productive life, Yamanaka appeared detached from the world and events around him, yet, within this reserved distance, as this diary entry shows, he was always mapping out, even during wartime, inspirations and ideas for films. Tragically, with his life cut short, these films would never come to fruition.
sábado, 6 de novembro de 2010
Studies #4 - Motoharu Jonouchi's Gewaltopia Trailer
Description #1
The title Gewaltopia Trailer (1968) has a dual meaning in the Japanese language; one meaning for the word yokoku (trailer) could mean a compilation of extracts to promote a film, but it can also mean a prediction, a prophecy for the future as a Gewaltopia (Gewalt=violence + Utopia). The film accumulates footage from his earlier films and arranges them in different contexts, a characteristic style of Jonouchi’s who often re-edited his films for each screening and provided different soundtracks. The jarring aural atmosphere, exemplary of the emergent noise-music scene, haunts the screen in an oppressive hypnosis and will seduce you into entrancement.
(Gewaltopia Trailer, 1968)
Description #2
Jonouchi’s “Gewaltopia Trailer” (1968) intersperses student protests at Nihon University with a swirling arsenal of images: mushroom clouds, excerpts from Nosferatu and King Kong, and people with writing tattooed or printed on various areas of their bodies. The soundtrack is a mix of anguished human voices and eerie electronic music.
(Gewaltopia Trailer, 1968)
A little introduction about Jonouchi
(Gewaltopia Trailer, 1968)Jonouchi’s “Gewaltopia Trailer” (1968) intersperses student protests at Nihon University with a swirling arsenal of images: mushroom clouds, excerpts from Nosferatu and King Kong, and people with writing tattooed or printed on various areas of their bodies. The soundtrack is a mix of anguished human voices and eerie electronic music.
(Gewaltopia Trailer, 1968)A little introduction about Jonouchi
Born in 1935, in Ibaragi Prefecture. Jonouchi entered the Art Department of Nihon University; in 1957, along with his colleague Katsumi Hirano, he co-founded the Film Study Group in the Fine Art Department of Nihon University. He co-directed “The Record of N [N no Kiroku]” (59), the second production by the collective, documenting the disaster of the Ise Bay Typhoon. “Pou Pou” (60) is a chain of amorphously expanding phantasmagoric images, with insertions of the images taken from film classics. During the same period, looking ahead to the future after graduation, he co-founded the VAN Institute for Cinematic Science as a forum for film production, and began living communally with five members including Masao Adachi. In correspondence with the anti-art movement of the time, VAN Institute assumed a place for artists working in various media to gather together. A documentary of the Anti-Japan-US Security Treaty struggle of 1960, “Document 6.15” (61), was screened at the memorial assembly for Michiko Kanba, who was killed at the demonstration in front of the Diet Building. It was a pioneering experiment of ‘intermedia’ in Japan which showed symbolic close-up images of Kanbara along with the scenes re-enacting police brutality, meanwhile two completely different soundtracks were played together, slide projections of paintings were going on, and a live happening was taking place at the venue. Jonouchi subsequently produced “Document LSD” (62), documenting a public LSD experiment using himself as the object; “Hi Red Center Shelter Plan” (64), that was about an art event at the Imperial Hotel; “WOLS”(65), consisting of fragments of a painting by WOLS, which were put together through in-camera editing; “Hijikata Tatsumi,” which shot the stage of Tatsumi Hijikata frame by frame. Towards the 70’s Anti-Japan-US Security Treaty Struggle, he continued to document the student uprising, while successively producing the “Gewaltopia series” including “Hakusan Street by Nihon University [Nichidai Hakusan-dori]”(68), “The Mass Collective Bargaining at Nihon University” (68), “Gewaltopia Trailer” (69), and “Shinjuku Station” (74). By including live performances which created improvised sounds and editing the films differently for each screening, and thus negating the idea of film as being complete, repeatable, and consumable — Jonouchi pursued ‘cinematic revolution.
quinta-feira, 4 de novembro de 2010
quarta-feira, 3 de novembro de 2010
Kon Ichikawa by Yukio Mishima
(Kon Ichikawa with Leni Riefenstahl)By Yukio Mishima
Were I asked which Japanese director's films I most often watch, I would answer without hesitation those by Kon Ichikawa. I'm always interested in his work and whenever a new film by him comes out I make sure I see it. And since long before he had the reputation he enjoys today, even back when the critics chose to see nothing but a certain superficiality that is occasionally detectable in his work, I was never in any doubt that he was one of Japan's greatest directors.
There is a reason why Mr.Ichikawa's works are hard to understand and remain somewhat misunderstood. No one elese has his talent for eschewing the kind of sentimentalism that has permeated Japanese films in the past. His innate nature is to be dry, without a trace of sweetness. Even where one detects something cloying (reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe, as in A Woman's Testament [Jokyo]), such work is invariably infused with a mordant and wry sensibility. I find it a uniquely Japanese irony that Ichikawa's works, which are so far removed from what is after all the mark of truly Japanese superficiality - the tearjerker - have been accused of indulging in sentiment.
For one who has been an avid viewer of his films, what makes this book interesting is the way it so honestly reveals the tragic disharmony between his work and his life. For behind the making of Mr. Ichikawa's exquisitely lucid films, one catches the glimpse of the struggle it took to shape the unique reality he has created; it is a place filled with the contradictions of present-day Japanese cinema. Not only that: one is also struck with a strange sense of pleasure after reading about all the troubles Ichikawa and his wife have had to face. No doubt this has something to do with the light style of his writting, but perhaps it is also because, after all, his trials and frustrations, filmmaking has been for him a kind of catharsis, almost a Dionysian rite of exorcism.
There is a reason why Mr.Ichikawa's works are hard to understand and remain somewhat misunderstood. No one elese has his talent for eschewing the kind of sentimentalism that has permeated Japanese films in the past. His innate nature is to be dry, without a trace of sweetness. Even where one detects something cloying (reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe, as in A Woman's Testament [Jokyo]), such work is invariably infused with a mordant and wry sensibility. I find it a uniquely Japanese irony that Ichikawa's works, which are so far removed from what is after all the mark of truly Japanese superficiality - the tearjerker - have been accused of indulging in sentiment.
For one who has been an avid viewer of his films, what makes this book interesting is the way it so honestly reveals the tragic disharmony between his work and his life. For behind the making of Mr. Ichikawa's exquisitely lucid films, one catches the glimpse of the struggle it took to shape the unique reality he has created; it is a place filled with the contradictions of present-day Japanese cinema. Not only that: one is also struck with a strange sense of pleasure after reading about all the troubles Ichikawa and his wife have had to face. No doubt this has something to do with the light style of his writting, but perhaps it is also because, after all, his trials and frustrations, filmmaking has been for him a kind of catharsis, almost a Dionysian rite of exorcism.
(This text was written as a preface to a collection of essays by Kon Ichikawa and his wife, Natto Wada)
Translated by Cody Poulton
terça-feira, 2 de novembro de 2010
Japanese Film Blogathon 2010 - Second and Third Surveys!
In order to start the 2nd Edition of the Japanese Film Blogathon with the right spirit (thinking about the readers and the community), we propose you two new polls about your choices and taste regarding Japanese Cinema! To vote check on the right side of the blog. Both polls end in the 11th of December, so don't wait, vote and feel free to comment!
-------------------
-------------------
I
What's your favorite Era of Japanese Cinema?
--------------
II
Regarding Japanese Cinema, what's your favorite genre?
Notes:
* The term “jidaigeki” literally means “period piece,” with most jidaigeki dramas being set in the Edo Period of Japanese history, which ran from the early 1600s to 1868.
1) Beggining of 1900's to end of the 1930's
2) Beggining of 1940's to end of the 1950's
3) Beggining of 1960's to end of the 1960's
4) Beggining of 1970's to end of the 1980's
5) Beggining of 1990's to end of the 2000's
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Regarding Japanese Cinema, what's your favorite genre?
a) Jidai-geki*/Chambara**
b) Horror/ Monster Movie
c) Yakuza /Gangster Movie
d) Gendai-geki***/ Shomin-geki****
e) Pinku*****/ Roman-Porno
f) Anime
Notes:
* The term “jidaigeki” literally means “period piece,” with most jidaigeki dramas being set in the Edo Period of Japanese history, which ran from the early 1600s to 1868.
**In Japan, the term chambara is used for this genre, literally "sword fighting" movies. Chanbara is a sub-category of jidaigeki, which equates to period drama. Jidaigeki may refer to a story set in an historical period, though not necessarily dealing with a samurai character or depicting swordplay.
***Gendaigeki is a genre in which the stories are contemporary dramas set in the modern world.
***Gendaigeki is a genre in which the stories are contemporary dramas set in the modern world.
****A genre dealing with lower-middle-class Japanese family life.
*****Pink film is a style of Japanese softcore pornographic theatrical film. Films of this genre first appeared in the early 1960s, and dominated the Japanese domestic cinema from the mid-1960s through the mid-1980s.
*****Pink film is a style of Japanese softcore pornographic theatrical film. Films of this genre first appeared in the early 1960s, and dominated the Japanese domestic cinema from the mid-1960s through the mid-1980s.
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