For donkey’s years I
have been wanting to see this rarely-screened film of Kenji Mizoguchi,
regarded by Japanese critics as his best, though Western critics prefer
Ugetsu Monogatari. At long last, thanks to a DVD bought in Paris
(with French subtitles only) my long wait has been rewarded.
Known under various other
titles such as A Story from Chikamatsu and The Tale of the Crucified
Lovers, Chikamatsu Monogatari was made in 1954 in just 29 days,
an exceptionally short time for the painstaking Mizoguchi. Chikamatsu
was an 18th century puppet-play writer of great renown, regarded by some
as a Japanese Shakespeare. His plays were written and set in feudal
times when women were hugely oppressed, adultery (particularly when it
crossed class lines) could be punished by crucifixion, and suicide was
widely seen as a happy release from life’s problems. These were just
the kind of themes to appeal to Mizoguchi, the most passionately feminist,
along with Carl Dreyer, of all film directors.
This particular story
tells of a high-born young woman, Osan, unhappily married to a much older
man who owns a calendar-making business. In a somewhat complex and
occasionally farcical chain of events involving an employee, Mohei, who
secretly loves Osan, another employee who loves Mohei and is consumed with
jealousy, Osan’s worthless brother, and some court nobles trying to avoid
paying their debts to Osan’s husband, Osan and Mohei are unable to avoid
the tragic destiny foreshadowed in the Crucified Lovers title variant.
Mizoguchi’s visual style
is, as always, stunning. The master of the “long take”, he always
tries to avoid cutting within scenes, relying instead on deep focus photography
(by the great Kazuo Miyagawa) and diagonals cutting across the screen which
invariably hint at a world beyond the frame, such as the constant eavesdropping
which contributes to the lovers’ downfall. The (almost) constantly
moving camera creates the impression of a scroll being slowly unrolled
to reveal a story, a technique long perfected by this director. As
in Ugetsu Monogatari there is a magnificent scene on a lake where, with
the camera stationary for several minutes (unusual for Mizoguchi), the
boat carrying Osan and Mohei drifts into view, and their proposed suicide
mission is suddenly abandoned by the realisation of their mutual love.
I cannot fault the acting.
Osan is played by Kyoko Kagawa, a popular Japanese actress of the time,
familiar to many as the sister in Mizoguchi’s Sansho Dayu, the youngest
daughter in Ozu’s Tokyo Story, and the wife in Kurosawa’s High
and Low. Mohei is played by Kazuo Hasegawa, whom I do not recall
seeing before, and Osan’s father by Eitaro Shindo, who plays the title
role in Sansho Dayu.
Chikamatsu Monogatari
was the last of Mizoguchi’s truly great films. For me it does not
quite match the Shakespearian magnificence of Sansho Dayu, but it
is the equal of the spectacularly beautiful Ugetsu Monogatari, whose two
intertwined stories do not quite gel together, and of the heartrending
Story of the Last Chrysanthemums made many years earlier.
All lovers of Mizoguchi’s films should see it if they can.
Alan
Pavelin