As played by Issei Ogata (Yi Yi) and observed by Sokurov in the both intimate and alienated settings of his Spartan compound (a bunker-like palace outside of Japan where he was moved as the Americans stepped up bombing raids), he's an almost childlike figure trapped in his identity of a living deity and the rituals of deference that further separate him from the world. His servants dare not touch him, his assistant plans his daily routine down to the minute and his cabinet dare not tell him the truth about the state of the war. Even when surrounded by servants or members of his cabinet, he always feels set apart, isolated, untouchable. He lives in a bubble where privilege and imprisonment are almost indistinguishable and time is practically abstract. Scenes flow to the next as if we were observing a single day in the life, yet outside this bubble months pass between the first scene (rising for the day) and the last (retiring for the evening with his wife), and so does his life as he once knew it. Between those bookends is Japan's defeat and Hirohito is brought out of his bubble to meet with General Douglas MacArthur (Robert Dawson) and discuss the details of his surrender. It's a sobering journey through a devastated Tokyo, which Sokurov recreates as a dream-like special effect filled with the haze of smoking ruins, the only image he offers of the outside world.
This isn't history, it's a meditation on power and how it shapes the one who wields it. In contrast to Moloch, Sokurov's portrait of Hitler set during the midst of World War II, this leader appears to be ruling out of obligation and custom, not any desire for power. Ogata's performance is a wonder of affectation, distracted tics and moments of dazed confusion, behavior none in his circle would dare comment upon. Meetings with his cabinet are more ceremonial events than meaningful discussions of policy, which he oversees with a regal aloofness that borders on distraction. He only seems engaged while taking time out from his responsibilities to engage in a little marine biology, or when he poses for photos for the American press, putting on a Charlie Chaplin act and playing for the cameras. Yes, Hirohito is a movie fan, but he's also trying out mortality. This living god has not even been allowed to open a door himself and, after his first meeting with MacArthur, is momentarily stymied by the workings of a doorknob. Rather than confusion, it plays like a sense of discover and he seems to savor the moment, like a child suddenly allowed to play with a forbidden toy.
"What's it like to be a living god?" MacArthur asks the Emperor, knowing full well that surrender will include the abdication of his throne and his godhood. For all his odd behavior, it's clear that this Hirohito is more aware of the contradictions of his position than any of his servants and officials. His response is complex, nuanced, and hidden in layers of protocol and ritual. I can't say how accurate this is to the historical Hirohito (it's a fair question, just not one I am equipped to answer), but it is a sympathetic and weirdly mesmerizing portrait of a reluctant Emperor as much a prisoner of his power and position as he is a leader, and a privileged (if rarified and surreal) look into the inner sanctums of an entire belief system about to be swept away in defeat.
Sokurov, who serves as his own cinematographer, shoots on digital vide and uses the technology to give the film both a hyper-immediacy and an alienated disconnection. This isn't the first time he's shot on DV but here is looks distinctly different from previous films, and not simply for the sepia tint, as if seen through the discolored lens of faded photographs. The digital clarity brings out the emptiness of the austere settings and exaggerates the distance between individuals, but there's also a digital haze over the image which at times gets downright murky and unreal. Kino's disc enhances the digital quality of the image, which makes the digital grain of the haze a little distracting, but that's more of an issue with the digital manipulation of the original film than the transfer. The soundtrack, presented in Dolby 5.1, is largely in Japanese and some English dialogue, with optional English subtitles for the Japanese dialogue. The notes on the film included on the disc are text excerpts of an interview with Aleksandr Sokurov in which he discusses the film.
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by Sean Axmaker
