Reviews for Masters of Cinema's R2 UK Box Set of Mikio Naruse (Volume 1).
I have a little journey to go on this week then, to the 1950's and to the richest period of work from a man considered a contemporary of Ozu, and yet as obviously acclaimed or well known as that particular master of Japanese Cinema.
For Naruse, the breakthrough was commercial in Japan for much of his career, and yet International acclaim came later (after his death) and still remains minimal by comparison; there are said to be many fans around the world, dedicated to the point of being referred to as Narusians for their fascination which a very individual take on a relatively common style. Personally, although this set is not necessarily that close to my usual tastes, the films did catch my eye as being of interest, and any challenge has its rewards... Narusians, be gentle with me.
As well as being assisted by Akira Kurosawa (the man himself was a huge fan of Naruse - ten years before promotion to Director status, much longer than other contemporaries like Mizoguchi), Naruse turned out around 90 films during his career (over a 30 year period), directly influencing people like Shohei Imamura, and continues to find new fans amongst Directors working today, Kore-eda for example.
As a way of tracing some unexpected views of Japanese life, not so readily found in rather cursory televisual coverage or even in the very large majority of even Japans cinematic output of the more intricate aspects of life, these earlier films hint at a much richer variety of views on the importance and prevalance of one singular, almost mythical moral viewpoint.
This new Masters of Cinema Naruse Box Set (Volume 1) contains three films, 'Repast' (1951); 'Sound of the Mountain' (1954); and 'Flowing' (1956). This is a three-in-one post, so it's long.
The issue then, one of the key characteristics of Naruse's work, is his relatively bold take on the gentle everyday drama that Japan turns out particularly well (revealed to me in the accompanying book as Shoshimin Eiga - films about everyday people), most famously in Ozu's case. Using an easily-digested portrayal of life, revealing it for its truly mundane aspects and stripped as it would mostly be in a poverty-stricken post-war environment (hence the frequent materialistic focus of the stories which contain frequent references to the monetary struggles of his characters' lives), especially for the people that fascinated him personally, it's with intentional sudden deviations from obvious answers, with the use of silent dismissive replies to questions that the audience is asked to second-guess and interpret the potential, more important possibilities and hidden answers not actively revealed for much of the time.
Many will find it easy to spot the key compromise Naruse chooses to make often, but perhaps not entirely click with the benefits of drawing that kind of audience in, how Naruse subsequently manages to hint as so much more, ask questions of the audience in such an instinctive and automatic fashion as to make the compromise pay-off. It's for this initially bold style, which would seem to contradict any comparison to Ozu at first glance, that probably leads to a semi-dismissive opinion on his work having gotten in the way of more substantial studies.
As a man, it is said that Naruse lived a very humble, simple life. Rented accommodation, living anonymously amongst the everyday folk and their near-breadline existences, studying their stripped emotions, appreciating the relative honesty, fascinated by their cultural sense of obligation, considering the contradictions and relationships between personal struggle and their preconceived roles. The role that seems to fascinate him most is that of the woman, and this is shown through the relationships he portrays on screen - marriages for two of these particular films, and it's also for this aspect that he is considered similar to Ozu, and it's also this that makes him a powerful exponent of a costrasting view on both how we Westerners expect Japanese life to be, and how we understand out lives and relationships to work also, but primarily it's with the Japanese audience that he wishes to talk to about his views on the underbelly of their life at the time each film appeared.
Review for 'Repast' (1951).
Hatsunosuke and Michiyo are husband and wife respectively, and Naruse focuses on telling the story of the state of their relationship from Michiyo's perspective. The seeds of doubt over her happiness spring into life when Hatsunosuke's niece Satoko arrives having left home unexpectedly, arriving in Osaka from Tokyo and imposing herself upon their solid-but-cracked marriage. Just 20 years-old and clearly portrayed as naive, full of the joys of her youthful, flirtatious attitude and the desire to be seen as an adult (with the contradictions of actively saying so, thus revealing her naivety), Satoko manages to playfully build an increasing friendship with her uncle Hatsunosuke to the extent that Michiyo seems convinced that something more is either going on or has the potential to happen. Whether it's Satoko and Hatsunosuke or simply Michiyo's husband and potentially any woman that comes between then, she seems convinced, reassured that all is not well.
The subsequent journey that we travel on with Michiyo leads us through a discussion of many possible faults within the need to feel obliged by family duty, the trials and tribulations of marital life (as was and potentially as still may be), the strong relationships that are both imperfect, yet which also allow enough space for the will and desires of the individual that they may choose to go their separate ways - here is Naruse's main story, the pull between obligation and individual desire. It's a fascinating alternative take that reveals a more diverse range of possible relationship occurrences that the usual stoical marriage as stereotypically portrayed, and the poverty-stricken hand-to-mouth existence is the aspect which strips many of the illusions away so much more effectively so as to do this with great honesty; remains objective, avoids sentimentality and shows much sympathy also.
Although said (and clearly suggested as such) to have a commercial sheen (and plot) to it, it's perhaps not as clear-cut positive, not as resolved by its conclusion as it would initially seem to be. It's more likely that it actually offers the rather subversive possibility of merely being one stage in the ever-changing views of Michiyo's drifting opinions on her own happiness. This comes from the contradictory use of both "the grass is always greener on the other side" and "there's always someone worse-off than yourself" as story elements, and there never being one true definable or honest reason for the unhappiness and so no one true difinable resolution possible as a result.
Review for 'Sound of the Mountain' (1954).
Well, I must admit that I either find this one particularly hard to fathom, because the Director is either treading a different angle on very similar issues to 'Repast', or because it's about complication and communication in addition to the apparently regular Naruse themes of obligation and emotion.
At the centre of this particular story are the eternally child-like Kikuko and her wayward husband Shuichi, both share the home of Shuichi's parents, and it's perhaps in the crowding of many people into a small space that magnifies the issues that have grown or arisen. Clearly this film also breaks a few myths and discusses a few taboos about typically-portrayed aspects of Japanese relationships and society, including, as it does, issues like infidelity, possible (semi-) incestuous relationships, divorce, suicide, emotional breakdowns and morality in general - some of these are common aspects found in 'Repast' too. Here we see Shuichi's determination to follow his sexual instincts beyond the boundaries of his marriage as he finds his wife insufferable, child-like. The (almost) arranged marriage leads to the obligational aspect, the resulting bond of dedication and shared environments leads to a mothering love and societies unspoken rules lead to a marriage that is, to all apparent appearances, as loving as you might expect from a true romance.
Bring into the mix Shuichi's sister (estranged from her husband, with two small children, one walking and one a mere baby) turning up at the family home shared with the heads of the family. Shingo Ogata, the ageing and wiser-than-his-years, very humble and soulful father-in-law to Kikuko, a man who shows great sympathy for her predicament which appears not to be of her making but as a result of how her nature clashes with Shuichi's self-destructive and emotionless carrying-on with a young War Widow. As Shuichi and Kikuko seem to part, Kikuko and Shingo seem to grow closer, and it's this contradiction to the reliance on obligation which is familiar from 'Repast' (and said to be a common theme of Naruse's relationship films about marriages from a female perspective) which highlights the importance and shift towards a more emotion-led time post World War II, as western ideas merge with Japanese tradition and older ideas are naturally cycling through their lifetime.
Again, with a fairly broad approach to a gentle drama, the benefits as brought in 'Repast' are here less clearly used and almost lead to my inability to quite work out what Naruse's central ideas and concepts are - I feel wrong-footed by the same aspects of Naruse's style which helped me to follow 'Repast' more successfully. There seems to be hints at the idea of the need for emotion before obligation, or a balance of the two that's not particularly common, and there's a large hint that it's from hidden or unspoken dangers (perhaps from the very passive approach women take to their relationships, in general, and at this point in time) that the greatest challenges arise.
Naruse is sympathetic, understanding, yet potentially very critical of Kikuko's lack of ability to attend to the problems of her marriage, but the greater scathing attack is on her hubands inability to avoid the temptations and acknowledge the true causes and origins of his desires and actions. There's also large hints at a repeated cycle of destruction being passed from one generation to another, Shingo's disappointment and regard for his son's failing marriage as actually a failing of his own life and relationship, but these remained, for me, broader issues talked about to no apparent specific end unless it remains to be one of these many issues I've mentioned.
Review for 'Flowing' (1956).
The final film of this particular set is a far clearer, detailed and rich depiction, this time about the lives of Geisha. As we are most likely to know, Geisha are more properly termed entertainers or living artists - singers, dancers, musicians, conversationalists, professional company-keepers for wealthy and poor men alike who dote upon them from various levels of interest, and some relationships clearly blossom naturally into full romances whilst others are simply about passing time in an entertaining fashion. Here, we are in the Otsuta household during 1956, the year prostitution was outlawed in Japan, and although it's not seemingly strictly correct to see Geisha as in any way as prostitutes, they do ply themselves in a similar fashion and things may stray into territory which would be easy to describe as such - they make a living from their relationships with men, with various degrees of intimacy.
Potentially, in Naruse's opinion, this is a contemporary depiction of what could have easily been seen as the imminent death or temporary demise of this particular profession, and although it still continues to this day it is certainly not as widespread and exists as a form of tradition that has perpetuated over time. Naruse aims to show, with three generations of the Otsuta family all living and working together (along with other staff, geisha) under one roof a cycle of tradition and how it has appearances as well as underlying realities. Almost all the characters that appear here are female, Naruse chooses to show the behind-the-scenes activity of their lives, and from his usual female perspective via primarily introducing a widow adapting from housewife to professional maid arriving in the household - Oharu, the main focus for much of the viewpoint from which we see events unfold.
'Flowing' would seem to depict the cycling through of traditional professions, the ups and downs that are hidden beneath a constant generally held perception of any given profession. Geisha are seen as wealthy, living in and around wealthy men and sharing their lifestyle as they seem to do, but in their daily lives the grind is more familiar and the truth is more that of a greater struggle to manage finances in a time when business is depleting. With several generations you get representations of those that have seen better times, those who can no longer switch to another life because they know no other profession, those that have time to change and may adapt, and those young enough to serve as a potential future - they all exist within a similar situation, and have a reliance on each other as well as a suffering that derives from this same relationship. The main point of the story is that you can't help but try to carry on and you perhaps instinctively feel that any bad state is simply a passing phase; you can't predict the future, and you all deal with it in as best a fashion as you possibly can.
Again, Naruse has sympathy for the characters, also shows an avoidance of sentimentality and clinical understanding for tradition as he can see the faults within continuation when difficult lives have a great need for adaptability and honesty if they're to be survived. There's a good, richer than initially understandable, detailed study of both the geisha lifestyle from a perspective usually only shown in glimpses rather than stripped bare like this, and there's much to consider or ponder within a story that's thicker with ideas and insight for both a domestic or international audience than I had possibly suspected. Naruse, as a very prolific filmmaker, one with a humble viewpoint on everyday lives, gives such an alternative view of the underbelly of various aspects of Japanese life that the detail within presents insight decades down the line, for all to find. They may be quite fast by comparison to much of the work around which it would have lived initially if to be taken as a very close flimmaker in style to someone like Ozu, and the films are relatively brief at a more-familiar 90 minutes or so running-time ('Flowing' is almost two full hours), but the plotting is natural to the point that 'greater than the sum of its parts' is easily an understatement, without doubt.
Mikio Naruse at Senses of Cinema, Wikipedia, FilmRef, Slant Magazine.
Progressive transfers from restored prints by Toho provide the basis for these three films fine appearance on DVD in the U.K. Unfortunately, each film does clearly suffer from understandable ageing and 'Repast' shows some obvious print damage, but this is fairly infrequent and doesn't detract from the main benefit - fine work, from a fine Director, in a superb Box Set. More Mikio Naruse films seem to be set to arrive on DVD during 2007, the only announced title and date being Criterion's upcoming 'When a Woman Ascends the Stairs', due February 13th 2007.
Packaged together in a sturdy box, there's also an accompanying 184 page book; about a quarter of this is dedicated to writings on Naruse and his work, methods, philosophies, and the remaining pages spread relatively evenly between the films included and it was a great series of pointers and insights that helped me gain some clarity on the few thoughts I've managed to sense and put forwards in these reviews - the later pages in particular are best left until after watching the films, they're boldly presented and easy to read, yet may contain spoilers as they quote dialogue, and in the case of 'Repast', directly from the finale of the film.
Order Masters of Cinema's, Naruse (Volume 1) Box Set on R2 UK DVD at Amazon.co.uk [Direct Link].
