Nagisa Oshima brought me daisies.

I'm ruefully acquainting myself with Nagisa Oshima's filmography.

LACMA has been presenting the retrospective "In The Realm Of Oshima"...an amazing opportunity to see some very rare films. However, I must admit that watching ten films by Oshima in eight days (I missed three last week) has been brutal.

Today I've seen his "100 Years Of Japanese Cinema" and so must revise and review the blog entry I'd originally intended. There's no pretense to my having the writing skill a true movie reviewer would require; I have a passion for film, but it's scattered, erratic; my knowledge regarding Japanese film is thin ice, and my knowledge of Japanese history laughable. I can pretend to understand certain references, metaphors and allegories, but it's unlikely to be well-informed understanding. What you're getting here are responses from the belly, first impressions, immediate reactions.

I started with Boy, which at the time felt quite heavy to me. Little did I know it would almost seem a light-hearted romp compared to some of the other films. Oshima infuses the blackest humor, which I enjoy. And I can handle mind-numbing cynicism and critique of the social milieu. I might agree with him. He's taken ideas that I can feel in my gut, and expressed them so eloquently they're hard to deny. I don't agree with what he does to his female characters, but we'll come to that in the blow-by-blow.

So, in order of viewing:

Shonen aka Boy, 1969

Regarding Boy: a respected friend recommended it, stating it was one of his favorite films. I can see how it would be. It contains a melange of emotional detritus, real thought, not much in the way of sentimentality. [Perhaps this is what's difficult for me when watching these films: they are too real. People make bizarre decisions, sometimes amazingly cruel and whimsical. They base their actions on love or fidelity to family or an ideal, no matter how absurd or contrary. And sometimes they do things for no reason at all, hard bloody things, just to do them. Perhaps to feel, or perhaps because they're so numb they can't perceive consequence anymore. Vengeance is petty and violent, sympathy tends to be punished. Love is crushed under heel.] In Boy (based on a true story), he is torn between escaping (the "grandparents" fantasy always there in his head somewhere) and that familial feeling we all have, much more realistic, of "I dislike you, but I must care for you, you are family". It smacks of adult children who abuse invalid parents. So he returns to crooked and abusive parents who need him for their con, and who (supposedly) can't sustain themselves without him. The con consists of being "hit" by cars and forcing the perturbed motorists to settle in cash to avoid a lawsuit or arrest. He fakes the accidents (even though he is regularly injured in reality) and his parents collect the money. He feels some real love for his little brother, and those moments between the two are touching, and a surprising gift and respite. Oshima has a knack for subtle side-stories, like flash fiction. While walking the streets alone, Boy watches another young boy beaten and bullied by two teens in an alley; when he finally moves in to show sympathy, the beaten boy in turn throws him into the mud. Humiliation begets humiliation.




Taiyo no hakaba aka The Sun's Burial, 1960

The Sun's Burial is the film that laid out the true landscape of what I was in for. It shows you people numbed and crazed by slum living, their choices making no sense to anyone not existing there at that moment. It reminds me of books I've read on internment camp behavior, where empathy is annihilated and the survival instinct takes over. In this film, any vague kindness (you have to look for it) or show of mercy is viciously attacked and snuffed out. I want to call Hanako the main character. She's a young slum-dwelling prostitute running a scam. The film rotates around her actions which are seemingly mindless and vengeful...but it comes back to survival of the fittest. If the other people involved with her hadn't tried to pull cons of their own, essentially manipulating her - which is DEEPLY resented - things may not have occurred as they do. Or maybe it would have played out exactly the same way. She burns everything to the ground, a devastation of bitterness, jealousy and child-like wrath. Honestly, despite the despicable and demonic nature of Hanako, I see a ray of hope in her that I don't see in many of Oshima's other female characters. She at least gets up and frantically tries to claw her way out of the pit.




Nihon no yoru to kiri aka Night and Fog in Japan, 1960

Oh, this was a doozy, as idealism attacks idealism, layered with the personal goals and self-interest of the participants. This film reminded me of a discussion I had with someone regarding non-profits and personal interests: everyone has a goal, and it may not fit cleanly within the larger ideology. The film spews a dog's breakfast of misunderstandings, suspicions and dogma onto the screen, not to make you believe or understand them, but to point them out in glaring relief. They're highlighted with supreme pessimism. It's a seething mass of philosophies and social intrigues. As an aside, I first recognized Oshima's incredible faithfulness to a particular cast while watching this film (notably actors like Kei Sato, Atsuko Kaku and Rokko Toura). You see the same faces again and again...which can be good or bad, depending. It distracts somewhat, perhaps more-so when glutting yourself during an unhealthy binge as I've been doing. These films were never meant to be viewed so closely together.




Ai to kibo no machi aka A Town Of Love And Hope, 1959

No YouTube reults for this one, which is a shame. Much like Boy, it has a sympathetic resonance some of the other films deeply lack. Oshima chooses the subject of a poor family living in a bad area; the characters are good people with slightly warped ethics - warped only because they can't exist any other way. The mother is ill and can't work, so the son takes the homing pigeons she'd purchased for his mentally challenged younger sister and sells them on the street for food money...trusting the pigeons will return in a few days. He doesn't feel right doing this and neither does the mother. But needs must as the devil drives. The film winds up being a statement on naive social sympathies, and misunderstanding motivations. It also has those earmarks of "no one comes out happy in the end". The well-to-do girl who sympathizes with the boy has her innocent ideals dashed when she realizes he's pulling a con (albeit a very small con). The boy - because the deception is discovered - can get neither a good job, nor can he attend school as he has to take care of his mother. I believe the phrase "class alienation" is much-used in reviews. Yet it manages to maintain some hope at the end, regardless of the biting title. And as a side story adding despondent flavor, the mentally challenged sister likes to draw the dead animals she finds in their neighborhood. The drawings are memorable, and one in particular (of a contorted rat) seemed to draw a pitying gasp from the audience.


Gishiki aka The Ceremony, 1971

Right around here is when I seriously started having problems with Oshima. Not because I disliked it, per se, but because I couldn't possibly understand. Each review I've read refers to his disappointment with and criticism of post-war Japan - the Sakurada family being the representation. It was unfortunate that I watched the film solely at face value, but points to Oshima for making it work either way. Although it's a difficult trip without the uber-intellectual platform to stand on. This film takes a difficult family and places it in a new realm of epic insidiousness. All the philandering and warped youth, hopeless women, mental illness and violence...it happens regardless of war. WWII in this particular film is simply a catalyst for certain scenarios. It's a bitter view of familial relations (and of Japan, as it turns out). The grandfather's incessant adultery means he has children by nearly every woman attached to the family, so there are hints of incest as the children become attracted to each other. The film begins with a sour look at one of these relationships, and the rest of the film tracks this path loosely via flashbacks and vignettes. The end is not surprising; weakness and madness reign.




Three Resurrected Drunkards aka Kaette kita yopparai, 1968

Ok, I can't say enough about this film. I adored it from beginning to end. What this says about me, I'm not sure. Three students on a "last fling" from school visit the beach and have their clothes stolen, only to be replaced by Korean uniforms. Thus begins a whirlwind of misunderstandings and evasions. I was delighted to discover that the three charming young men in the film are the gents who perform the title music...three members of the Folk Crusaders, a Japanese psych-folk band. An interesting choice for Oshima, but brilliant. You care for them in that pat-pat-pat-let's-get-you-home-to-your-mum way. It is a quirky and humorous film. But still dark. They're mistaken for stowaway Koreans; the Koreans who stole their clothes need to kill the Japanese boys in their clothes to stop the ongoing search; the beautiful Korean girl who helps them has a boorish husband who whores her out to Korean stowaways. There's a fascinating documentarian scene where the boys walk down city streets asking people if they're Japanese and the bulk of answers are "No, I'm Korean". This movie was certainly taking a hard look at xenophobia, and has a hard end. There's also rampant references to Vietnam, and especially a focus on the South Vietnamese General Nguyen Ngoc Loan executing a Viet Cong officer with a shot to the head which is an infamous and incriminating picture from Vietnam, although it has come to light the execution may have been warranted. I've read several variants of the story. At the time Three Resurrected Drunkards was made, that photo was the seminal representation of things gone wrong. This film could be considered an excellent example as well; even when the boys are given their second chance (a little tongue-in-cheek, that), nothing turns out right. I've included two separate YouTube clips below...I liked it that much. I gather from The Auteurs site that not everyone is as enthralled as I.






Nihon shunka-kô aka Sing A Song Of Sex, 1967

Personally, I felt this film should have been shown first (it was part of a double-feature with Three Resurrected Drunkards). On the other hand, many people may have left before Drunkards and that would have been a crying shame. Sing A Song Of Sex is not only looking at alienated youth and oppressed sexuality, but again is making a strong statement about Japanese xenophobia and the history of post-war Japan. The final scene was amazing, as old Japan tries to speak and reason with new Japan. However, it's a hard film. How many times have I said that in this entry? I should count. Out of the ten I saw, this was the most difficult. The film "begins" with a senseless act. There's no thought or remorse. A decision is made and you never know why. Someone dies. And the rest of the film stems from there. It is chock-full of unexplained acts. But in reality it isn't as though people turn to you and give graphic explanations or rationales for why they do something. And I found that refreshing, although the actions taken in the film could be quite repulsive (rapes aplenty in this one, even if some are imagined). The boys move from typical teenage responses to a more sociopathic level. Oshima overlaps several concerns, including the Japanese-Korean relationship, a critical look at Japan's youth, and the shallow nod given by many to protest and idealism....I found the protest-parody scene to be vicously accurate.




Gohatto aka Taboo

What a visually stunning film, and a piece of cruel period erotica not to be missed. It includes a breathtaking score by Ryuichi Sakamoto. And, if you read the article linked above, I have an argument to make. Upon first viewing, you say to yourself "Huh?" - this isn't the Oshima I've come to expect (the latter part of this day's double-feature, The Catch, would more than make up for that). However, I have two points to make. One: while it seems as though he is in fact creating a movie of the type he once despised, look at it through Oshima's allegorical lens: he has taken his infamous rape scenes and moved them one rung higher. I quibble a bit about a young man prettier than a girl (played by the surreal-looking Ryuhei Matsuda) gaining the vengeance that I would have liked to see the earlier of Oshima's female characters get, but that is neither here nor there. To refocus, Two: it aggravates me when people expect a director to langorously clutch the same ideals for four decades. That would bore either him or everyone else. People grow and change, thank god. Regardless of whether you feel this is worthy of being an "Oshima" (as he becomes his own definition), it is a striking and worthy piece. As is sadly typical, a few people walked out during the sex scene. Whether it was because it was sex, or because it was anal sex between two men...I try not to judge other than to ask how you could possibly leave such a beautiful film. I'm also trying to decide if Oshima was having a little fun at our expense, as his years have indeed been filled with revealing the skittering undersides of rocks. That he is giving homosexuality that same level of taboo, as it were...and pointing his finger at us to say, "You idiots."




Shiiku aka The Catch

Ah well, couldn't find a video for this either. A shame. This was the last Oshima film I watched; it was presented about ten minutes after Taboo, and I haven't heard a worse grinding of mental gears in a long time. You're swooning from the intoxicating beauty and violence of Taboo, and suddenly watching a black American GI with his leg still in a trap being marched to a tiny isolated Japanese village. I must admit that this film was an excellent choice as the last of the series. It sums up so many of the qualities I've come to look for in Oshima's earlier work. It reminds me of Elevator to the Gallows for some reason, perhaps in a "things can only get worse" way. You can tell immediately that nothing good is going to happen to that soldier, as all the villagers' personal faults, flaws and scandals are blamed on him. He is considered an ill omen, bad luck. This is a dark scrutiny of mob mentality and the ease of rationalizing violence (which, come to think of it, has been another running theme). Oshima does not dwell on certain subjects as you'd expect in contemporary cinema - there's no long running shot of the soldier's festering leg, no weepy lingering hold on the still form of the child at the bottom of the cliff. I think more than anything, the director reviles sentimentality and wants no part of it. But he's a HUGE fan of manipulation.


Nagisa Oshima's 100 Years of Japanese Cinema

Technically, I'm breaking my own rule here and placing this outside of my personal chronology. I saw this before Taboo. However, it seems a fine way to wrap up this entry. Regarding 100 Years of Japanese Cinema, here is a good article (one in a series of four) entitled, "His Will On Film" written by Rob Nelson. Regardless of Oshima's take on the history of Japanese film, I would like to see every example in his documentary. And, in fact, found a site that has a complete or near-complete listing. During the film, he says quite clearly that Japan has been too dependent upon Japan, and that once they break free of those conventions, Japanese cinema will be allowed to evolve. And here's the point where I can relate this film back to comments made about Taboo. It was certainly this sort of statement which made people arch an eyebrow at samurai and cherry blossoms. There was a small uncomfortable laugh that ran through the audience when he states how he dislikes being associated with La Nouvelle Vague. More interesting still that LACMA has decided to pointedly have a celebration of Nouvelle Vague directors once the Oshima retro is completed. Clever on the part of the museum's film program coordinator, and hopefully it will create an intelligent and curious contrast.

“My hatred for Japanese cinema includes absolutely all of it."