Widely regarded as one of the greatest films ever made,
Ugetsu
(Ugetsu Monogatari, 1953) helped bring international attention to the
vibrant cinema being created in post-war Japan and immediately
established Kenji Mizoguchi as one of the world's greatest directors.
Adapted from famous stories by Akinari Ueda, it's often described as
a unique and unforgettable ghost story. This is true, but it's also
much more than that; it's a brilliant examination of human nature,
self delusion and the effects of war on society. Long on the "most
wanted" list of many film fans,
Ugestu is at last available on
American DVD in an outstanding 2-disc release from Criterion.
In a small village in 16th Century Japan, Genjuro (Msayuki Mori) is
barely able to support his wife Miyagi (Kinuyo Tanaka) and young son
Genichi (Ikio Sawamura) by farming and making pottery. When civil
war breaks out, the market for Genjuro's pottery improves, and he's
able to make a modest profit selling his wares in a nearby city with
the help of his naive neighbor Tobei (Sakae Ozawa), who dreams of one
day becoming a respected and powerful samurai. Hoping for even
greater success, Genjuro prepares another batch and leaves for the
city with his family, Tobei, and Tobei's wife, Ohama (Mitsuko Mito).
When the war causes conditions to grow dangerous, he leaves Miyagi
and Genichi behind and urges them to wait for him at home. In town,
Genjuro does brisk business and is ready to return to Miyagi when he
meets Lady Wakasa (Machiko Kyo), member of a once wealthy and
powerful family that has fallen on hard times. Following her back to
her estate, Genjuro is quickly seduced by the mysterious woman, and
her flattery makes him forget about his family. Almost immediately,
Wakasa announces that they are to be wed. Meanwhile, Tobei has
abandoned Ohama (who, unprotected, is raped by soldiers) to pursue
his ambition of becoming a war hero. He achieves his goal when he
steals the severed head of a general, claims responsibility for the
death and is rewarded with a small command in the army. Both men, it
would appear, have found happiness and success, but fate has harsh
lessons to teach each of them through shocking revelations that
expose the emptiness of the dreams they have been chasing.
After starting his career with a variety of different kinds of films
in the silent era, Mizoguchi first achieved recognition in Japan as a
major director for a series of contemporary dramas he made in the
1930's focusing on the plight of women in society, including Osaka
Elegy (
Naniwa Ereji, 1936) and
Sisters of the Gion
(Gion No Shimai, 1936). The war placed restrictions on his creative
freedom, but he returned to form in the postwar era with major works
like
The Life of Oharu (Saikaku Ichidai Onna, 1952). Women
continued to be the central focus of many of his films, but most of
the stories were now period pieces, in part due to commercial
considerations-historical Japanese films were more popular with
international audiences eager for a taste of the exotic East.
Although
Ugetsu's protagonists are male, most of Mizoguchi's
interest and sympathy is, as usual, with the women in the story.
Each suffers in her own way as a result of the thoughtlessness of the
men in her life and male-dominated society in general. Ohama is
abandoned, brutalized and degraded; Miyagi is loved by Genjuro, but
she pays dearly when he leaves to seek worldly success; even Lady
Wakasa, who at first appears to be the film's villain, earns our
sympathy because she is driven by a desperate desire to experience
love, and ultimately feels betrayed by Genjuro. Part of the richness
of Mizoguchi's work is that his portraits of women never pin their
problems on one simple source; it's a complex interaction of social
and economic conditions, combined with human nature. Similarly, he
proposes no facile solutions. His depiction of female characters in
Ugetsu as in his other works is honest, unsentimental and
remarkable in the depth of understanding shown for the pressures and
pains confronted by women.
As for the men in
Ugetsu, first-time viewers may interpret the
film as a moralistic fable in which Tobei and Genjuro are punished
for their ambition and must learn to be humble. As Phillip Lopate
points out in the DVD liner notes, this is a simplistic view. For
Mizoguchi, Tobei and Genjuro's fundamental mistake isn't hubris-it's
believing they can control their own destinies. In Mizoguchi films,
characters often attempt to take charge of their lives, only to find
themselves trapped in their current role, or plunged into an even
worse situation. The "moralistic fable" view of the story also fails
because Genjuro isn't driven by greed or selfishness. He loves his
family and wants to give them a better life; he wants Miyagi to enjoy
some of the beautiful things he believes she deserves. Genjuro's
first mistake is to become fixated on this goal. He doesn't listen
to Miyagi when she tells him that she is content and doesn't need
material things to be happy (failures of one character to communicate
clearly to another frequently occur in Mizoguchi films), and when
soldiers pass through his village he foolishly risks his life to save
his pottery. Later, when he is lured to Lady Wakasa's home, he
allows himself to become swayed by her flattery and attention, and
lives a sort of fantasy version of the life he had wanted for himself
and Miyagi. Genjuro is a fundamentally decent man, but all too often
he loses himself in his hopes and dreams.
Tobei, on the other hand, is simply a fool with unworthy and
unrealistic goals. The instant he receives his commission he becomes
a boastful buffoon, dispensing advice to his soldiers on subjects he
knows nothing about. Tobei is part of Mizoguchi's criticism of war
and militarism in the film, intended as a comment on Japan's recent
past. Far from being glorious (as Tobei believes), war in
Ugetsu is depicted as a chaotic force that reduces men to base
instincts. There's never any discussion of the war's causes, or what
side is right; it's simply a source of upheaval, violence and misery.
The scenes of the soldiers looting, killing for scraps of food and
raping are among the film's most powerful. Although
Ugetsu is
famous as a ghost story, these moments are chilling in their realism
and sense of immediacy.
Mizoguchi's visual style is elegant and poetic. He favors extended
takes, frequently moving the camera to reframe rather than cutting to
a new angle. (As Tony Rayns observes in the DVD commentary track,
this emphasis of mise-en-scene over montage calls to mind the
theories of the famous French film critic Andre Bazin.) Much that has
been written on
Ugetsu is devoted to Mizoguchi's acclaimed
handling of the story's supernatural aspects. (These were left out of
the above synopsis to avoid giving away major plot twists.) He avoids
flashy gimmicks and special effects, instead relying mostly on a
slight theatrical stylization of lighting, makeup and performance to
create the appropriate mood. Even the film's two biggest
supernatural moments are handled with the utmost simplicity. In one,
a character awakens to discover that a location has seemingly changed
radically from the night before. There are no opticals showing a
magical transformation, simply cuts showing the altered landscape and
the character's reaction. Later, a camera pans right-to-left with a
character through an empty room; after the character exits, the
camera pans left-to-right back to the room to reveal a presence that
wasn't there before. Again, the avoidance of obvious artifice like a
dissolve creates a greater sense of the uncanny.
Ugetsu's cast is uniformly excellent. Masayuki Mori and
Machiko Kyo, who were paired three years earlier in Kurosawa's
international sensation
Rashomon (1950), are reunited here in
very different roles as Genjuro and Lady Wakasa. Kyo's role is
showier, but Mori is effective in keeping Genjuro sympathetic and
believable. As his wife, Kinuyo Tanaka at first appears submissive,
perhaps even weak, but over the course of the film we see the
strength of her love. Sakae Ozawa is fine as the naive Tobei, but
his work is slightly overshadowed by Mitsuko Mito's as the pragmatic,
tough survivor Ohama. The sensitive and literate script was written
by frequent Mizoguchi collaborator Yoshikata Yoda.
Criterion's DVD of
Ugetsu is an outstanding release that fully
lives up to that label's reputation. Disc One contains the film, a
fine commentary track by critic Tony Rayns, a 14-minute
"appreciation" of the film by director Masahiro Shinoda (
Pale Flower,
Samurai Spy), a 20-minute interview with assistant director Tokuzo
Tanaka, a ten-minute interview with cinematographer Kazuo Miyagawa
and three trailers. The transfer of the film is splendid, notably
sharper and more detailed than previous U.S. video releases. Light
superficial scratches are visible at times, especially during fades
and dissolves, but they do not detract from the viewing experience.
Disc Two contains the 1975 documentary Kenji Mizoguchi: The Life of a
Film Director by director Kaneto Shindo (
Onibaba), who served
as art director on Mizoguchi's
The 47 Ronin (Genroku
Chushingura, 1941). The 150-minute work covers Mizoguchi's entire
career and features interviews with dozens of actors, writers,
producers and crew members. The documentary is hurt by a lack of
film clips-only three or four are shown-but otherwise offers
considerable insight not only into the famous director, but also the
evolution of the Japanese film industry. Finally, Criterion's set
includes a 72-page booklet with an essay by Phillip Lopate, the two
Akinari Ueda stories that were the basis for Genjuro's character and
a Guy de Maupassant short story that was the (uncredited) inspiration
for Tobei. The discs and booklet come packaged in an attractive
slipcase.
One of the very best DVD releases of 2005,
Ugetsu is a "must
have" for lovers of international cinema.
For more information about
Ugetsu, visit
The Criterion Collection. To order
Ugetsu, go to
TCM Shopping.
by Gary Teetzel
