Kuroneko


1h 39m 1968
Kuroneko

Brief Synopsis

A woman and her daughter are raped and murdered by soldiers during a time of civil war. Afterwards, a series of samurai returning from the war through that area are found mysteriously dead with their throats torn out. The governor calls in a wild and fierce young hero, to quell what is evidently a ghost. He encounters the two beautiful women, in an eery, beautiful scene. After spiritual purification, he meets the demon in a thrilling fight.

Film Details

Also Known As
The Black Cat, Yabu no naka no kuroneko
Genre
Foreign
Horror
Release Date
Jan 1968
Premiere Information
Los Angeles showing: Jul 1968
Production Company
Kindai Eiga Kyokai; Nippon Eiga Shinsha
Distribution Company
Toho International, Inc.
Country
Japan

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 39m
Sound
Mono (Westrex Recording System)
Color
Black and White
Theatrical Aspect Ratio
2.35 : 1

Synopsis

In 12th-century Japan a woman and her 20-year-old daughter-in-law are raped and then slain by a band of samurai. Their hut is burned, and their blood attracts a black cat. Later the leader of the samurai band returns to the area and is mauled to death by a seductive woman who resembles his victim. Another samurai band, led by Raiko, comes to the area. Gintoki, the husband of the murdered young woman and the son of the older woman, is a member of this band, and Raiko orders him to get rid of the ghosts who have been preying on the samurai. Gintoki meets the spirit of his dead wife, and she takes him back to a hut where he also sees the spirit of his dead mother. The two women vanish, but the next day the young woman returns to her husband; despite her vow to murder the samurai, she and her husband make love and remain together for 7 days. She is banished from the spirits of hell, however, in return for her husband's life. Raiko again orders Gintoki to destroy the apparitions, and the next time he encounters his mother, Gintoki severs her arm. That night, the mother returns for the arm, and the next morning Gintoki lies dead as a black cat licks his wounds.

Film Details

Also Known As
The Black Cat, Yabu no naka no kuroneko
Genre
Foreign
Horror
Release Date
Jan 1968
Premiere Information
Los Angeles showing: Jul 1968
Production Company
Kindai Eiga Kyokai; Nippon Eiga Shinsha
Distribution Company
Toho International, Inc.
Country
Japan

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 39m
Sound
Mono (Westrex Recording System)
Color
Black and White
Theatrical Aspect Ratio
2.35 : 1

Articles

Kuroneko


Japan enjoys a rich history of supernatural tales and legends that became subject matter for films as far back as the silent era. Some of those lost titles have been rediscovered, such as director Teinosuke Kinugasa's silent horror film A Page of Madness (Kurutta ippeji, 1926), which was found and restored in 1971. But during WWII, the military government discouraged movies about Japanese mythology, though costume dramas and fantasies returned in the Occupation period, partly because the American censors strictly controlled movies about current controversies. By the 1950s, ghostly horror stories had made a comeback, to be joined by new science fiction-themed fantasies.

The prolific Kaneto Shindo wrote over 200 screenplays. He made his name as a director with 1960's Hadaka no shima aka The Naked Island, a harrowing tale of farmers eking out a living on a barren rock. His international stature grew with the frightening Onibaba (1964), based on a folklore tale about a 'mask of flesh.' Shindo made pictures with other themes, but his next big export to the West was another traditional horror film, a Bakenoko mono ('ghost cat story'), Kuroneko (Yabu no Naka no Kuroneko, 1968), which translates to "A Black Cat in a Bamboo Grove."

In Bakenoko mono folktales, cats take human form to dispense supernatural justice, avenging murders when there are no human witnesses. Shindo stages Kuroneko in the same wartime setting as Onibaba, among poor peasants in the Heian period (794-1185). Shindo said that his sympathies were with the low-born: "My camera is fixed to view the world from the lowest level of society, not the top."

With the man of the house, Hachi (Kichiemon Nakamura), off fighting in a civil war, farm women Yone and Shige (Nobuko Otowa and Kiwako Taichi) are raped and murdered by marauding samurai. But a curious house cat is attracted to the blood of their burned bodies. Three years later, Hachi has been given a new rank by the local lord Raiko Minamoto, as well as new name, Gintoki. He returns to find his mother and wife gone and the house reduced to ashes. Raiko gives Gintoki the responsibility of destroying unknown phantoms said to be killing various samurai in the vicinity (Raiko Minamoto was a real historical personage, who stated openly that peasants are worthless and can be killed without regret). Gintoki eventually discovers that Yone and Shige are now murderous cat-phantoms with unfinished business to complete in the supernatural realm.

Reviewers praised Kaneto Shindo's stylized, genuinely frightening tale of horror. The unsettling film contrasts beautiful images against convincing gore makeup and accompanies its fright scenes with strange sound effects that blend with Hikaru Hayashi's music score. Variety judged Kuroneko less poetic than the ghost stories of Kenji Mizoguchi, yet called it "...one of those glacially beautiful, stylized exercises in supernatural themes that the Japanese excel in." As a protégé of the revered director Kenji Mizoguchi, Shindo adopted his master's sympathy for the plight of women. Gender politics enter into the ghost story, as defenseless women return from the dead to exact a bloody revenge.

Kuroneko's breathtaking visuals feature images of the beautiful phantoms gliding through spooky bamboo forests. The tone shifts between realism and artificiality, unlike the all-abstract, more theatrical Kwaidan (1964) by Masaki Kobayashi. In 2016, critic Melissa Anderson of the Village Voice reviewed Kuroneko when promoting films featuring powerful women: "Balletic ghost-face killers leap, fly and somersault through the air, luring members of Japan's military nobility to their bamboo lair with promises of sake before they savage their victims's throats like lavishly kimonoed mousers."

Critic Michael Atkinson was charmed by some of Shindo's more arresting details. Yone's ponytail twitches like the tail of a stalking cat. When a woman's arm is chopped off, it becomes a cat's paw, which she carries in her mouth. The women's Ghost House appears to move through the bamboo forest under its own power, prowling the foggy mist. The house looks inviting to new victims, but afterwards reverts to its burned and crumbled state.

Kuroneko was originally scheduled to be screened in competition as Japan's official selection at the ill-fated 1968 Cannes Film Festival. The entire gala was closed down five days early by film directors acting in concert with the May strikers.

By Glenn Erickson
Kuroneko

Kuroneko

Japan enjoys a rich history of supernatural tales and legends that became subject matter for films as far back as the silent era. Some of those lost titles have been rediscovered, such as director Teinosuke Kinugasa's silent horror film A Page of Madness (Kurutta ippeji, 1926), which was found and restored in 1971. But during WWII, the military government discouraged movies about Japanese mythology, though costume dramas and fantasies returned in the Occupation period, partly because the American censors strictly controlled movies about current controversies. By the 1950s, ghostly horror stories had made a comeback, to be joined by new science fiction-themed fantasies. The prolific Kaneto Shindo wrote over 200 screenplays. He made his name as a director with 1960's Hadaka no shima aka The Naked Island, a harrowing tale of farmers eking out a living on a barren rock. His international stature grew with the frightening Onibaba (1964), based on a folklore tale about a 'mask of flesh.' Shindo made pictures with other themes, but his next big export to the West was another traditional horror film, a Bakenoko mono ('ghost cat story'), Kuroneko (Yabu no Naka no Kuroneko, 1968), which translates to "A Black Cat in a Bamboo Grove." In Bakenoko mono folktales, cats take human form to dispense supernatural justice, avenging murders when there are no human witnesses. Shindo stages Kuroneko in the same wartime setting as Onibaba, among poor peasants in the Heian period (794-1185). Shindo said that his sympathies were with the low-born: "My camera is fixed to view the world from the lowest level of society, not the top." With the man of the house, Hachi (Kichiemon Nakamura), off fighting in a civil war, farm women Yone and Shige (Nobuko Otowa and Kiwako Taichi) are raped and murdered by marauding samurai. But a curious house cat is attracted to the blood of their burned bodies. Three years later, Hachi has been given a new rank by the local lord Raiko Minamoto, as well as new name, Gintoki. He returns to find his mother and wife gone and the house reduced to ashes. Raiko gives Gintoki the responsibility of destroying unknown phantoms said to be killing various samurai in the vicinity (Raiko Minamoto was a real historical personage, who stated openly that peasants are worthless and can be killed without regret). Gintoki eventually discovers that Yone and Shige are now murderous cat-phantoms with unfinished business to complete in the supernatural realm. Reviewers praised Kaneto Shindo's stylized, genuinely frightening tale of horror. The unsettling film contrasts beautiful images against convincing gore makeup and accompanies its fright scenes with strange sound effects that blend with Hikaru Hayashi's music score. Variety judged Kuroneko less poetic than the ghost stories of Kenji Mizoguchi, yet called it "...one of those glacially beautiful, stylized exercises in supernatural themes that the Japanese excel in." As a protégé of the revered director Kenji Mizoguchi, Shindo adopted his master's sympathy for the plight of women. Gender politics enter into the ghost story, as defenseless women return from the dead to exact a bloody revenge. Kuroneko's breathtaking visuals feature images of the beautiful phantoms gliding through spooky bamboo forests. The tone shifts between realism and artificiality, unlike the all-abstract, more theatrical Kwaidan (1964) by Masaki Kobayashi. In 2016, critic Melissa Anderson of the Village Voice reviewed Kuroneko when promoting films featuring powerful women: "Balletic ghost-face killers leap, fly and somersault through the air, luring members of Japan's military nobility to their bamboo lair with promises of sake before they savage their victims's throats like lavishly kimonoed mousers." Critic Michael Atkinson was charmed by some of Shindo's more arresting details. Yone's ponytail twitches like the tail of a stalking cat. When a woman's arm is chopped off, it becomes a cat's paw, which she carries in her mouth. The women's Ghost House appears to move through the bamboo forest under its own power, prowling the foggy mist. The house looks inviting to new victims, but afterwards reverts to its burned and crumbled state. Kuroneko was originally scheduled to be screened in competition as Japan's official selection at the ill-fated 1968 Cannes Film Festival. The entire gala was closed down five days early by film directors acting in concert with the May strikers. By Glenn Erickson

Kuroneko - KURONEKO - A Classic Japanese Ghost Story from Director Kaneto Shindo


Although Japanese horror filmmaking was becoming more westernized in the late 1960s, indigenous ghost tales were still very popular. Masaki Kobayashi's omnibus horror epic Kwaidan received wide distribution in the West, as did director Kaneto Shindo's frightening Onibaba. That tale of a cruel supernatural revenge featured a savage demon mask that haunted many a nightmare. Four years later Shindo returned with Kuroneko (Yabu no naka no kuroneko), a stunningly artful horror spectacle from an even older folk tradition, the "ghost cat" tale. Shindo's wife and frequent collaborator Nobuko Otowa stars opposite Kichiemon Nakamura, a famous Kabuki performer. Kuroneko at times resembles a 'dance of the dead' ballet film. Its intensely formal beauties share screen space with gruesome murders and sudden spectral manifestations.

Kuroneko begins much like Onibaba. Farmer Hachi (Kichiemon Nakamura) has been conscripted to fight in the civil wars. With the man of the house gone, farmwomen Yone and Shige (Nobuko Otowa & Kiwako Taichi) fall victim to rapacious marauding samurai. Their bodies are examines by the black house cat. Three years later Hachi returns to learn that his mother and wife disappeared when the house burned. Promoted for his valor in combat, Hachi is now known as Gintoki of the Grove and serves as a lieutenant-retainer of the samurai chief Raiko Minamoto (Kei Sato). Various samurai, their throats savagely torn, have been found in town, in the fields and at the site of Gintoki's former farm. Ordered to destroy the phantoms presumed responsible, Gintoki discovers that they are none other than his beloved mother and wife. The ghostly women have made an unholy bargain to avenge themselves, and are intent on seducing and murdering every samurai in the world. Shige keeps her ghostly vow to never divulge her pact, but defies the powers of darkness by spending seven nights with her husband. The demonic pact cannot be broken -- Gintoki's own mother will turn against him.

Once again Kaneto Shindo shows himself a master of the uncanny. Just as horror films were abandoning traditional forms, Kuroneko celebrates the beauty of stylized horror. Borrowing visual motifs from experimental film as well as Japanese theatrical tradition, Shindo generates chills with dream-like visions, eerie stillness and sudden eruptions of the irrational into an otherwise naturalistic environment. Self-assured samurai travelers think their luck has taken a positive turn at the Rajomon gate, where waits a demure maiden in a white dress, holding a gauzy veil over her head. She's afraid of the dark woods ahead, and seems grateful -- too grateful, perhaps -- when the samurai gallantly offers his protection. As if in a Grimm fairy tale for amorous adults, the maiden leads her knight to a secluded but elegant house. White mists rise as the maiden's mother serves saké and discreetly retires. The samurai sees an invitation in the maiden's smile, but as he lies down with her...

We're immediately struck by the not-quite practical situation: Mother Yone's perfectly starched, un-creased dress is one of those ornate traditional creations that would seem to require two handmaidens to put on. While Shige seduces an unsuspecting victim, Yone performs a bizarre set of slow dance moves in the misty entranceway. Shots revealing the supernatural at work function as oneiric cutaways, as if they are something felt or intuited, and not seen. Like a black cat crossing the next samurai's path, Shige tumbles silently through the air above her victim-to-be. A long braid of Yone's hair twitches like a cat's tail. Both women have shaved eyebrows, with substitute smudges of makeup high on their foreheads. We see Yone briefly with slightly exaggerated demon-like makeup. Even when one of Shige's arms suddenly appears covered with coarse black hair, we're not convinced that these manifestations are literal. The supernatural warps reality.

Director Shindo gravitated to stories about the travails of the poor and the depredations of the rich. After boasting that peasants respect and admire samurai, the wealthy Raiko Minamoto (a real historical person) states openly that peasants are worthless, and can be killed without regret. Shindo's script makes both Raiko and to some extent Gintoki into hypocrites. Both started as ragged peasants and rose in status by fighting. Raiko admits that the legends of his prowess in battle are mostly tall tales. Gintoki returns with the head of a vicious enemy, Sunehiko the Bear, but does not say that he killed his foe while running for his life. The rape and murder was committed not by bandits, but by Raiko's "noble" retainers. Raiko is critical of his royal masters at court, but prefers to send Gintoki after the demons rather than risk his own neck.

Gintoki finds himself in a bizarre romantic situation, making love to the ghost of his dead wife. This outrage of love breaks multiple oaths and blood pacts for which there will literally be Hell to pay. Yone continues to rip the throats of samurai, forcing Gintoki into an ultimately hopeless series of fights. At one point Yone disguises herself to recover her arm, a hairy clawed thing that Gintoki puts on display with his swords, a touch worthy of Edgar Allan Poe. If one's own mother came back from the dead, which of us would not obey her wishes?

Criterion's Blu-ray of Kuroneko presents this highly unusual Japanese thriller in a handsome B&W Tohoscope transfer that brings out all the beauty of figures emerging from the fog, and long trucking shots through impenetrably thick bamboo forests. The movie is not difficult to follow while reading English subtitles. Many sequences are virtually dialogue-free.

The soundtrack plays an active role in developing the film's uncanny atmosphere. Hikaru Hayashi's drum rhythms and eccentric musical notes merge with natural sounds, until one becomes unaware where one leaves off and the other begins. Some of the most disturbing scenes are "scored" with near- subliminal presences that seem to have their own psychological effect.

Disc producer Curtis Tsui builds his extras around two interviews. The aged Kaneto Shindo is interviewed by a former assistant, in a Director's Guild of Japan piece that begins with questions about Shindo's entrance into the film industry. In a new interview, critic Tadao Sato analyzes Kuroneko from the biographical angle and outlines its high standing as a Japanese horror classic. He then sketches a fascinating overview of the classic cat ghost story, explaining the significance of the cat in the cultural context of Japanese folk tales.

The original trailer emphasizes the film's erotic aspect and billboards the famous actor Kichiemon Nakamura. Criterion's insert booklet contains an informed essay by Maitland McDonagh and an excerpt from a 1972 interview with Kaneto Shindo conducted by Joan Mellen. Shindo talks about his politics, and states firmly his belief that in Japan filmmaking is an art.

For more information about Kuroneko, visit Criterion Collection. To order Kuroneko, go to TCM Shopping.

by Glenn Erickson

Kuroneko - KURONEKO - A Classic Japanese Ghost Story from Director Kaneto Shindo

Although Japanese horror filmmaking was becoming more westernized in the late 1960s, indigenous ghost tales were still very popular. Masaki Kobayashi's omnibus horror epic Kwaidan received wide distribution in the West, as did director Kaneto Shindo's frightening Onibaba. That tale of a cruel supernatural revenge featured a savage demon mask that haunted many a nightmare. Four years later Shindo returned with Kuroneko (Yabu no naka no kuroneko), a stunningly artful horror spectacle from an even older folk tradition, the "ghost cat" tale. Shindo's wife and frequent collaborator Nobuko Otowa stars opposite Kichiemon Nakamura, a famous Kabuki performer. Kuroneko at times resembles a 'dance of the dead' ballet film. Its intensely formal beauties share screen space with gruesome murders and sudden spectral manifestations. Kuroneko begins much like Onibaba. Farmer Hachi (Kichiemon Nakamura) has been conscripted to fight in the civil wars. With the man of the house gone, farmwomen Yone and Shige (Nobuko Otowa & Kiwako Taichi) fall victim to rapacious marauding samurai. Their bodies are examines by the black house cat. Three years later Hachi returns to learn that his mother and wife disappeared when the house burned. Promoted for his valor in combat, Hachi is now known as Gintoki of the Grove and serves as a lieutenant-retainer of the samurai chief Raiko Minamoto (Kei Sato). Various samurai, their throats savagely torn, have been found in town, in the fields and at the site of Gintoki's former farm. Ordered to destroy the phantoms presumed responsible, Gintoki discovers that they are none other than his beloved mother and wife. The ghostly women have made an unholy bargain to avenge themselves, and are intent on seducing and murdering every samurai in the world. Shige keeps her ghostly vow to never divulge her pact, but defies the powers of darkness by spending seven nights with her husband. The demonic pact cannot be broken -- Gintoki's own mother will turn against him. Once again Kaneto Shindo shows himself a master of the uncanny. Just as horror films were abandoning traditional forms, Kuroneko celebrates the beauty of stylized horror. Borrowing visual motifs from experimental film as well as Japanese theatrical tradition, Shindo generates chills with dream-like visions, eerie stillness and sudden eruptions of the irrational into an otherwise naturalistic environment. Self-assured samurai travelers think their luck has taken a positive turn at the Rajomon gate, where waits a demure maiden in a white dress, holding a gauzy veil over her head. She's afraid of the dark woods ahead, and seems grateful -- too grateful, perhaps -- when the samurai gallantly offers his protection. As if in a Grimm fairy tale for amorous adults, the maiden leads her knight to a secluded but elegant house. White mists rise as the maiden's mother serves saké and discreetly retires. The samurai sees an invitation in the maiden's smile, but as he lies down with her... We're immediately struck by the not-quite practical situation: Mother Yone's perfectly starched, un-creased dress is one of those ornate traditional creations that would seem to require two handmaidens to put on. While Shige seduces an unsuspecting victim, Yone performs a bizarre set of slow dance moves in the misty entranceway. Shots revealing the supernatural at work function as oneiric cutaways, as if they are something felt or intuited, and not seen. Like a black cat crossing the next samurai's path, Shige tumbles silently through the air above her victim-to-be. A long braid of Yone's hair twitches like a cat's tail. Both women have shaved eyebrows, with substitute smudges of makeup high on their foreheads. We see Yone briefly with slightly exaggerated demon-like makeup. Even when one of Shige's arms suddenly appears covered with coarse black hair, we're not convinced that these manifestations are literal. The supernatural warps reality. Director Shindo gravitated to stories about the travails of the poor and the depredations of the rich. After boasting that peasants respect and admire samurai, the wealthy Raiko Minamoto (a real historical person) states openly that peasants are worthless, and can be killed without regret. Shindo's script makes both Raiko and to some extent Gintoki into hypocrites. Both started as ragged peasants and rose in status by fighting. Raiko admits that the legends of his prowess in battle are mostly tall tales. Gintoki returns with the head of a vicious enemy, Sunehiko the Bear, but does not say that he killed his foe while running for his life. The rape and murder was committed not by bandits, but by Raiko's "noble" retainers. Raiko is critical of his royal masters at court, but prefers to send Gintoki after the demons rather than risk his own neck. Gintoki finds himself in a bizarre romantic situation, making love to the ghost of his dead wife. This outrage of love breaks multiple oaths and blood pacts for which there will literally be Hell to pay. Yone continues to rip the throats of samurai, forcing Gintoki into an ultimately hopeless series of fights. At one point Yone disguises herself to recover her arm, a hairy clawed thing that Gintoki puts on display with his swords, a touch worthy of Edgar Allan Poe. If one's own mother came back from the dead, which of us would not obey her wishes? Criterion's Blu-ray of Kuroneko presents this highly unusual Japanese thriller in a handsome B&W Tohoscope transfer that brings out all the beauty of figures emerging from the fog, and long trucking shots through impenetrably thick bamboo forests. The movie is not difficult to follow while reading English subtitles. Many sequences are virtually dialogue-free. The soundtrack plays an active role in developing the film's uncanny atmosphere. Hikaru Hayashi's drum rhythms and eccentric musical notes merge with natural sounds, until one becomes unaware where one leaves off and the other begins. Some of the most disturbing scenes are "scored" with near- subliminal presences that seem to have their own psychological effect. Disc producer Curtis Tsui builds his extras around two interviews. The aged Kaneto Shindo is interviewed by a former assistant, in a Director's Guild of Japan piece that begins with questions about Shindo's entrance into the film industry. In a new interview, critic Tadao Sato analyzes Kuroneko from the biographical angle and outlines its high standing as a Japanese horror classic. He then sketches a fascinating overview of the classic cat ghost story, explaining the significance of the cat in the cultural context of Japanese folk tales. The original trailer emphasizes the film's erotic aspect and billboards the famous actor Kichiemon Nakamura. Criterion's insert booklet contains an informed essay by Maitland McDonagh and an excerpt from a 1972 interview with Kaneto Shindo conducted by Joan Mellen. Shindo talks about his politics, and states firmly his belief that in Japan filmmaking is an art. For more information about Kuroneko, visit Criterion Collection. To order Kuroneko, go to TCM Shopping. by Glenn Erickson

Quotes

Trivia

Notes

Released in Japan in February 1968 as Yabu no naka no kuroneko. Also known as The Black Cat.