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Tengoku to jigoku (1963)
Complex Social Commentary
HIGH AND LOW starts out with Gondo Kingo, a wealthy, self-made man who has risen from a humble shoe maker inside the National Shoe factory to an executive and minority owner of National Shoe (yes, that is the name, it's the English name, "National Shoe"). Having been a craftsman, Gondo wants to make sure that National Shoe will continue to make quality, well-made shoes. His fellow executives want to save money by switching to cheaply-made products that will fall apart soon. Gondo has engineered a plan to take over the company to maintain the shoe-crafting quality. To implement his plan, Gondo has mortgaged his entire fortune, including his large house that sits on top of a hill (the "High" in the title).
Right in the middle of all this, Takeuchi Ginjiro, a very angry medical intern, has engineered his own plan. He plans to kidnap Gondo's young son, Jun, and demand a huge ransom. The kidnapping is performed and Takeuchi makes the call to Gondo. The amount demanded is such that it would completely ruin Gondo if he were to pay it. He would even lose his large house, and would most likely lose his job and income. Gondo is willing to do this for his own son. However, it turns out that the kidnappers have made a mistake. They have kidnapped Shinichi, the son of Gondo's chauffeur, who is a widower of very modest means. The moral dilemma poses itself: will Gondo sacrifice his entire fortune to save the son of his chauffeur? I don't want to "spoil" the film for viewers with the answer. However, there are many aspects that can be discussed without putting in a "spoiler." The "High" refers to Gondo's mansion, perched upon a high hill. It also refers to Gondo's position as a wealthy company executive. On the surface, the "Low" refers to the slums where poor people and drug-addicts inhabit and where the kidnapper lives and most likely comes from.
However, as it turns out, the "Low" can also refer to Gondo and his background. During the discussion about how to handle the kidnapping, he reminds his wife about how he had been born of poor and humble origins and has had to work his way up the National Shoe hierarchy by his own efforts. Gondo's background is a factor that can go well over the heads of Western viewers who aren't very familiar with Japanese culture, history, and sociology. In order to understand it, some historical aspects must be studied. The craft of shoe-making, along with other crafts involving leather has been a traditional occupation of the burakumin (outcast) sector of the population.
The burakumin, as a people (and as a political/cultural issue) come from the feudal class system, where there were samurai, farmers, artisans, and merchants. There were also two different outcast categories: hinin ("non-human"), and eta ("abundant filth"). The hinin were involved in begging, street-entertaining, and related occupations. The eta were involved in dealing with butchery, handling the dead, and making leather objects and implements (related to dead animal carcasses). People in these outcast classes were considered inferior, not quite human, ritually impure. They were forced to live in segregated neighborhoods and defer to the "normal human beings" around them. Killing an eta or a hinin was not considered a crime because they weren't considered to be "people." During the Meiji restoration, the classes were abolished. The former outcasts were supposed to be welcomed into regular society as "new commoners." Instead of being "abundant filth" or "non-human," they were referred to as "burakumin" ("hamlet people"). However, the discrimination and violence against these people continued and continues to this current day. As the years went by, the scorn and discrimination has become hidden, unmentioned, and kept out of view. Some people have said that they don't even know what a "burakumin" is, other than something that relates entirely to historical times. However, there have been secret (now-illegal) lists kept of suspected burakumin families, so that companies and marriage brokers could consult these lists and avoid hiring or marrying a person from this "outcast" class. There have been writings and studies circulated that burakumin run most of the violent yakuza gangs and that they even "cause AIDS." Now we get back to the film, HIGH AND LOW. Even though this factor isn't explicitly mentioned, it is strongly implied that Gondo Kingo, the self-made shoe-craftsman who has risen to executive, is a member of the burakumin. He started life as a shoe-maker, a leather craftsman. In Japan, very few people who are not burakumin would enter these leather-crafting professions. No one in the film mentions the burakumin, no one calls Gondo a "burakumin" or "dirty eta" to his face -- or even openly behind his back. No one would dare. However, one can plainly see a divide between Gondo and the other executives during the entire film. So though Gondo represents the "high", he also represents the "low." There is a parallel implication that Takeuchi (the kidnapper), though coming from humble origins, is not a burakumin. So though he is the "low", he is also the "high" compared to Gondo. There are so many ironies that run through this film.
I found this film to be quite compelling. If nothing else, the film is a quality "police procedural." However, it is far more than that. The film addresses issues of individual moral choices as opposed to materialism. It also addresses issues of class, in very subtle and ironic ways; class distinctions are far more complex than simplistic "high/low" concepts.
Jigokumon (1953)
Great Classic Film
This is a great classic film that I just had the opportunity to watch. It was made in 1953 about events in the 12th century in Japan -- but the themes of love and sacrifice hold true for all places and all times, even into the present day.
It's very tempting to see the main character as a victim of female oppression and repression. However, what I got was the incredible will of Kesa, the main protagonist in the film. She might speak and walk softly, but her heart and soul are made of the strength of iron from inside. The basic plot concerns itself with a general, Endo Morito, who for his part in suppressing a rebellion against the government, is offered "anything he chooses" by his lord as a reward. What he desires is Kesa, a lady-in-waiting to the Empress. However, Kesa is already married to Morito's colleague, Watanabe Wataru. Watching Kesa and her husband interact, it's quite clear that she loves him dearly and he loves and cherishes her as well.
However, Morito becomes more and more obsessed with "possessing" Kesa for his own. His (and Watanabe's) lord puts some pressure to entice Kesa to leave her husband (and have him divorce her) and accept Morito as her new groom. She resists, wishing to remain faithful to her loving husband.
Morito ends up at the house of Kesa's aunt, and he threatens to kill Kesa's husband and her aunt if she does not yield to his desires. It is at this point where Kesa decides to die for her husband to save his life and honor. She pretends to assent to Morito's demands; the plan is for Morito to come at midnight and kill Watanabe in his bed. He leaves and Kesa gives her aunt a keepsake and bids her sadly farewell.
Later in the evening, there is a truly poignant scene where Kesa exchanges sake with her husband. She plays the koto and Watanabe asks gently, "why is your song so sad?" She says "it's nothing." She cannot tell him of her plans, but she knows that his life will be saved. Kyo Machiko, as Kesa, has expressions that are full of unspoken emotion. She quietly arranges to exchange beds with her husband and take his place. And she calmly lays down her life for her husband; Morito steals into the house and slashes her with a sword, thinking that she is her husband and that Kesa will at last belong to him. He is horrified when he finds out what has actually happened -- he has murdered his beloved.
Ninjô kami fûsen (1937)
Haunting
I just got a DVD copy of this film and watched it. It haunted my dreams. It's a very low-key rendering. The director structured the film very carefully. But not in an obvious "art house" way, he just let events happen as they did.
It's an "ensemble" film, starring a host of characters who live in an urban slum in Edo (which is now Tokyo). It begins with the investigation of a suicide, an impoverished, elderly ex-samurai who had hanged himself because -- having pawned his real sword blades and replaced them with bamboo; this was done for him not to starve to death -- he had been unable to perform the samurai ritual of seppuku (ritual suicide, done with a sword piercing the stomach). The slum residents react by having a "wake" for the dead man, which is actually an excuse for them to drink up and make as merry as they can.
There are two main characters, Shinza a barber and Matajuro, a ronin who once was a samurai serving a clan but lost his position with this clan. At the beginning, while Shinza and the others are celebrating, Matajuro looks on, an obvious outsider among the commoners. The others invite him to join, but he tells them that he "doesn't drink." Shinza is a barber who really strives to be something else, though he's not really sure what he wants to do; he wants to break out of the rather petty niche that he's found himself in. He finds himself in trouble with the local gangsters for operating a gambling party without their permission. He is defiant toward the gang boss and wishes to get back at him.
Matajuro lives with his wife right next door to the barber. His wife Otaki supports the couple by crafting paper balloons to sell; we see her sitting in the house doing her artistry. It seems that Matajuro lost his position with his clan because of his drinking sprees. Now he has given up drinking in order to "regain his health" and hopefully regain his position. He clings to a letter that his late father had written that he is sure will get him his position back. He spends most of his days struggling with the temptation to drink and pursuing the clan official who would be responsible for reinstating him to his position; he humbly begs him just for a word and to read his father's letter.
This is a Japanese period film that features a samurai as one of the main characters. But there is no sword fighting in the film; the most action we get to see is a bunch of gangsters beating up on a helpless Matajuro; they had been sent by the clan official whom Matajuro had been trying to meet.
Some call this film "pessimistic." I'm not so sure that it's pessimistic as it is simply sad and tragic. One thing for sure. It will haunt the viewer for quite a while and it will demand to be seen over and over.
Seppuku (1962)
A classic!
A classic, surviving the test of time -- made in 1962 about 17th century people. Here in 2005, we still watch and discuss the film and the issues that it raises. Tsugumo Hanshiro, a middle-aged ronin formerly serving a clan abolished by the Shogunate, appears at the Ii clan gate. He wishes to commit seppuku rather than live on in poverty. In his inner headquarters, Saito Kageyu, the chief retainer, bemoans the fact that hordes of starving ronin have been making similar requests at clan gates; most have wanted handouts rather than to actually commit seppuku. Kageyu suspects the same of Hanshiro. Kageyu attempts to discourage Hanshiro. He tells a tale of another ronin from the same abolished clan, Chijiiwa Motome.
Motome had appeared a few months earlier, with a request, but had carried bamboo sword blades the clan members had been enraged. As an example to other scrounging ronin, particularly those without real blades, the clan decided to force Motome to commit seppuku with his own bamboo wakizashi.
Hanshiro tells his own life story. The film shows us some historical background. Thousands of ex-retainers had been thrown out of their positions, made into ronin, by the Shogunate's abolishing of clans. In the rigid class system (samurai, farmers, artisans, merchants), these displaced ex-retainers had no place at all, being forced into marginal subsistence. Most trades (because they required long periods of apprenticeship) were out for most ronin. Many ronin became outlaws or obtained bodyguard positions for gangsters. If law-abiding, they were able to teach in schools for commoner children. Or become piecework artisans; they could contract with wholesalers (who also lent money) to make fans, umbrellas, insect cages, ink brushes, and the like. Even as most ronin had to fend for themselves in this netherworld, they still were to carry the two swords of their original rank, and to uphold their obligations. Hanshiro and his daughter Miho make umbrellas and fans to sell to wholesalers for a pittance; Hanshiro is in debt to one of the wholesalers. Motome teaches commoner children and receives a minimal wage for his work.
Miho and Motome marry and have a son. All goes well until sickness strikes. Miho contracts consumption and the child contracts a fever. Neither Hanshiro nor Motome can afford a doctor. Motome attempts to get a laborer job (which pays more than teaching does) and runs straight into job discrimination: "no starving ronin need apply." Motome sells his sword blades at a pawnshop, obtaining bamboo blades to wear inside his sword fittings, not an uncommon practice; some ronin (and some low-ranked clan samurai) desperately needed money. And yet, the sword was considered to be "the soul of the bushi." A bushi who sold his blades had to appear to wear the badge of his rank. The bamboo blades were available, thus no one would know of the despicable act of having sold his "soul" for money.
But Motome has not received enough; he still cannot afford a doctor. So Motome decides on something more desperate: to appear at a clan gate, with his hidden bamboo blades, in order to request seppuku -- with the actual intention of receiving a handout to get a doctor for his wife and child. The Ii clan officials have decided differently. The scene where Motome must commit seppuku with his bamboo wakizashi is one of the most harrowing scenes ever filmed. Motome is utterly humiliated, surrounded by the Ii clan retainers, with Onodaka Hikokuro, his assigned second preaching on how the sword is the soul of the samurai, the bamboo sword is what is appropriate for Motome, and so forth. While Motome painfully carries forth. Hikokuro refuses Motome's request to cut off his head and end the ritual's mockery, so Motome ends it himself, biting off his tongue.
Hanshiro has realized -- too late -- that he had never dared to even consider selling his own sword blades to help out the family. The scene when he is confronted with Motome's body and the truth of what has happened is truly gut-wrenching, as Hanshiro weeps and slams down his "useless tokens" that he had clung to. Hanshiro reveals his own secret he has used his "useless tokens" to avenge Motome's death. He has tracked down the three Ii retainers who were most responsible for Motome's death. The final duel between Hanshiro and Onodaka Hikokuro is absolutely stunning. Instead of taking the lives of these three, Hanshiro has taken their topknots. And while Kageyu has preached to Hanshiro about samurai honor, these three swordsmen have hidden themselves away, claiming sickness to cover up their own shame, while their topknots grow back.
Kageyu cannot deal with Hanshiro's revelations. He commands his men to slaughter Hanshiro. Hanshiro fights back gamely, taking four of the Ii clan retainers and wounding several more. In a symbolic scene, he tears down the ancestral armor of the Ii clan. Some Ii clansmen use their rifles against Hanshiro, but Hanshiro sticks his own sword into his belly, committing seppuku as he has pledged to do. In the end, Kageyu fashions a cover-up of the entire event; mysterious plagues have hit the Ii clan and a number of their retainers, including Onodaka, have died of "illness" rather than by the blade of an impoverished hungry ronin.
This film raises many issues. It is Kobayashi's impassioned protest against rigidly militaristic societies that uphold hypocritical codes of "bushido" while disdaining what that term really means. The film is also like a Greek tragedy, with a character (Tsugumo Hanshiro) possessing the tragic flaw of his own pride -- which in the end, he must pay for with his life. Which he does in a heroic way. This film doesn't just recount the oppression of poor people. It shows the strength that these poor people have, the choices that they make as individuals, refusing to just bow down and be mere victims of their society.