by Allan Fish
(Japan 1953 96m) DVD1/2
Aka. Ugetsu/ Tales of the Pale and Silvery Moon After the Rain
Greed begets nothing but greed
p Masaichi Nagata d Kenji Mizoguchi w Matsutaro Kawaguchi, Yoshikata Yoda book “Tales of a Pale and Mysterious Moon after the Rain” by Akinara Ueda ph Kazuo Miyagawa ed Mitsuzo Miyata m Fumio Hasayaka, Ichiro Saito art Kisaku Ito cos Kusune Kainosho
Machiko Kyo (Lady Wukasa), Masayuki Mori (Genjuro), Kinuyo Tanaka (Miyagi), Sakae Ozawa (Tobei), Mitsuko Mito (Ohama), Mitsusaburo Ramon (captain), Ryosuke Kagawa (village chief), Sugisaku Aoyama (old priest), Kikue Mori (Ukon),
There’s a wonderful section in Peter Bogdanovich’s book about his discussions with Orson Welles where the two come to discuss the great directors of world cinema. When Bogdanovich brings up Mizoguchi, Welles feigns ignorance. Only later does he admit his respect for him when declaring “he can’t be praised enough, really.” Not only is Welles right about Mizoguchi’s career, but about his great films. Of those great films none had quite so big an impact as Ugetsu, his haunting adaptation of two tales by Akinara Ueda.
In 16th century Japan, during a Civil War and close to Lake Biwa, two farmers, Genjuro and Tobei, dream of escaping their drudgery by making money from their other side-earner, pottery. They risk both their own and their families’ lives to go off to market to sell their wares, only for Genjuro to leave behind his wife to go off with a mysterious noblewoman, Lady Wukasa. Meanwhile Tobei purses his long-standing wish to be a samurai. However, in their absence, their wives suffer much misfortune, with one raped and ending up a prostitute.
There are images here that seem so beautiful as to be from another world, and that in itself is quite deliberate. Images of the boat drifting in the water recall a host of other films, including Sunrise, The Night of the Hunter and even Shame (also set in a Civil War), yet it remains one on its own. This is a film that is not just showing how greed can corrupt, but how war can turn characters’ sensibilities inside out and ambitions can ruin not only one’s self but those around you. The obsessions of the two male protagonists may be the antithesis of pragmatic (undertaking such enterprises during a Civil War), but obsession suffers no rebuke. “There’s money to be made from war” Genjuro says, and he will hear no other. This “ostrich in the sand” mentality while a war rages about them may almost reek of lunacy, but war encourages such madness. War itself is mad, almost a breathing entity in itself.
Though Mizoguchi is to be commended for his handling of the central theme, he’s to be applauded even more for his incorporation of the supernatural into proceedings. Such a plot factor could have (nay, even should have) fit clumsily in the overall narrative flow, but it seams together perfectly. There’s an almost spooky quality to the film even prior to Lady Wukasa’a appearance, with the eerie shots on Lake Biwa and the visual ambiance and sounds that accompany her. Much credit for this must go to Machiko Kyo, who drives Mori to awe just as she drove Toshiro Mifune to lust in Rashomon. Kyo’s haunting visage seems to have come from the later Kwaidan and when she observes of Mori’s pottery “the blue glaze sparkles like pure crystal” one cannot help but be reminded of Kobayashi’s later film. Equally fine are Mizoguchi’s favourite actress, the incomparable Kinuyo Tanaka (fresh from equally brilliant work in his Lady of Musashino and The Life of Oharu) and Masayuki Mori, superb as the fickle and foolish Genjuro.
Even so, if I had to pick one person as man of the match it would have to be Kazuo Miyagawa. His photography is so luminous as to burn the screen. His pictures are not only ghostly but almost wistful. Even the symbolism of pottery adds to the fairy tale quality of the piece. “You must devote your life to me” Kyo tells Mori at one point, becoming greedy herself. In this most apathetic of times, forgive me when I say that my greed for cinema such as this is insatiable. Long may it remain so.
I love this film of Mizoguchi, and you did justice to it. One of my favorite ghost stories — didn’t classic Japanese cinema have a unique take on them?
Thanks for the reminder.
Indeed, Rick, indeed. Japanese cinema does own the ‘ghost story’ genre, and UGETSU is the greatest one of them all.
Incidentally, my own top film of the 50’s (and a strong challenger for my #1 film of all-time) is Mizoguchi’s SANSHO THE BAILIFF, one of the most shattering of films. I will have my own review of it up early in the week.
Thanks very much for the insights.
Allan, your choices just keep getting better and better. I can assure you that “Ugetsu” will be on my top-25 when I get around to posting it later in the month. I love this movie! You mentioned so many of the things that make it special and that lodge immovably in the memory: the otherworldly images; the boat drifting on the lake in the fog; the story of two men driven by necessity, ambition, and greed; the supernatural, “spooky” element. And Machiko Kyo! Have you ever noticed how many of the classic Japanese films of the 50’s she was in? “Rashomon,” “Ugetsu,” “Gate of Hell,” “Street of Shame,” “Chushingura,” “Floating Weeds,” and others I’m probably not aware of. She was to the 50’s what Liv Ullmann was to the 60’s and 70’s.
I just saw “Sansho the Bailiff,” and as impressive as it was (which was extraordinarily so), I’m sticking with “Ugetsu.” In the near future, I’m going to make a point of seeing all the major films or Mizoguchi. So much to catch up on!
If there are major Mizoguchis you haven’t seen yet, then you’re in for a treat, R.J., especially with some of his thirties stuff.
Superlative piece, Allan, and I cannot overstate how fitting it is for you to quote Orson Welles in your opening paragraph remarking, “He can’t be prasied enough, really.” This is one of the greatest of all films (memorably standing in for my “U” in the pesky alphabet meme some months back–well, memorably for me) and you do it great justice here.
And Rick is right; indeed, this may be the greatest of all Japanese ghost stories, though obviously Kwaidan and other films more directly about such supernatural phenomenon cannot go unmentioned in such a discussion.
(warning, some spoilers)
Fantastic write-up, though Allan certainly needs no validation from my side of the fence. The filmic choices here and superlatively summarizing analyses are authoritative enough to discourage the dilution of peanut gallery comments.
But, here I am. This is one of my favorite films, undoubtedly due to many of the aspects discussed here (the performances, the cinematography, the elegiac, parable-like plot), but one thing I particularly admire is the clever juxtaposition — and exploration — of materialism versus the supernatural. Genjuro not only seeks palpable wealth but epitomizes the ideal of it; as a potter and a farmer he’s entrenched in the tactile and the earthy, living off the fat (or, rather, the lean) of the land. Only when spirits coax him does he recognize that money might not truly be what he’s after. The film uses the supernatural as a kind of mutative fantasy for Genjuro; Lady Wukasa slowly “congeals” in the farmer’s mind throughout the first third or so of the running time as he distances himself more and more from practicality (while you’re pipe-dreaming of riches why not toss a ghost bride into the mix?). The plummeting return to reality in the denouement is heartbreakingly deserved, and Mizoguchi wrenches real poetry from it. We mustn’t forget the glorious 360 arc shot through the moon-dipped farm, finally revealing Genjuro’s deceased wife tending to her domestic duties. For one split second Genjuro (and the audience) gets it both ways — the spoils of earth and the hereafter, nestled in the heart of the hearth. And you could do worse than that last line if you’re seeking a working definition for a functional marriage.
That was quite a riveting review of the film itself, Joseph! I agree completely. Honestly, I believe filmmakers who have attempted to reach the kind of metaphysical-to-physical poetry of the numinous against the material have all comparatively failed next to Mizoguchi’s astonishingly brilliant foray in Ugetsu Monogatari. (For but one example, the ending of Brazil–naturally that is birthed from an entirely diferent context, and features an indelibly singular juxtaposition, and others.)
This is a ceaselessly arresting, fascinating film. The term “masterpiece” actually does not suffice when describing it.
Thanks Alexander! Please, call me Jon 🙂
Interesting point about Brazil and I must say I do see it, and I suspect that recondite fantasy has many untapped subtexts, particularly on the matter of reality (or the matter of matter, for that matter) versus the über-reality the protagonist self-designs in his repression. Still…correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe Brazil ALSO makes copious use of the crane shot, which is how Ugetsu achieves much of its mise-en-scene’s fluidity.
And a final sidebar: as an Atheist, I greatly admire films that can suspend my disbelief while delivering the kooky facets of spookdom. Ugetsu is a graceful sucker punch right in my anti-transcendentalist gut; it knocks the windy skepticism out of me every time.
Good to see you again, Jon, heading to bed in a minute as it’s midnight UK time, but wanted to stop by before hitting horizontal, couldn’t agree more with your final sentence. It always leaves my flabber well and truly gasted.
Alexander, you’re always too kind.
Oh, and Jon, nothing wrong with being an Atheist, I’d rather refer to myself as an agnostic. I don’t believe in God, but I believe in the necessity of inventing him.
Saw this last night, and am still taken aback by how hauntingly beautiful it was. Kazuo Miyagawa is most definitely getting a seat at my cinematographers fantasy dinner party.
Mizoguchi and Miyagawa do some of the most fluid camerawork I’ve ever seen, with 70 percent of this film done by crane. It’s mesmerizing.
All the actors were compelling (Sakae Ozawa the least so, as that was a leeeetle too over the top for me) and the film was consistently engaging, entertaining, provocative and lyrical all at once.
The sheer, elegant beauty of the film fills me with awe. That boat scene alone, and then so many others….
Brilliant.
Excellent review, of course, Mr. Fish.
Jenny, your excitement is palpable, and your assessment couldn’t be bettered! Your mentioning of the crane work, the boat scene and of the film’s poetic, elegant beauty has me wanting to watch it again tonight! ha! Miyagawa’s work was ethereal! I actually met Allan on line because of Mizoguchi, and the rest they say is history! Allan does some of his finerst work with Japanese cinema.
Jenny I feel your appreciation from my end here. Fantastic stuff.
I have become enamored of TMC’s Silent sundays and other classic movies that have been made. I just saw “Ugetsu Monogatari” and while I don’t look at it from a cinematic point of view, I watch a movie and respond to it with a gut reaction. Then I read what others have written about the film and make my own opinions. That is the only research I do on the film. One article about this movie has a bibliography of about 30 books, that is a little too much for me.
That being said, I have to disagree with what I have read about the movie. I have a more positive spin on the movie. My first reaction after seeing it was what an incredible love story. The women in the film did not seem resigned and I thought the two brothers did not treat their wives as chattel. This to me is totally amazing, because don’t westerners feel that Asian women are like the woman in Pearl Buck’s “The Good Earth”? Now she was really resigned and repressed.
Most westerners don’t know a lot about eastern culture, even today. Most of their views are stereotypical. For example, the perspective that Asians have about government and politics and wars in relation to themselves is vastly different than what westerners think. We try to explain things from a western view when we see a film directed by an Asian. What we seem to forget though, that the director of this film was Asian and the movie was made in the ’53, about 40 years before the internet and information. Cultural diversity hadn’t become buzzwords and political correctness was not even in people’s thoughts.
War throughout history is hell. But, women get raped, men get consigned and towns get looted and burned. People get killed. People, both soldiers and civilians can suffer from a lack of food. The war that took place in 16th century Japan is really no different than the American Civil War or any civil war for that matter. And what was interesting to me was that after Tobei reunited with his wife, and found out that she was raped, eventhough she became a prostitute, his love for her was so strong that he took her back! Usually what happens is that the woman who is raped is now unclean, and eventhough the rape wasn’t her fault, she is shunned. Most people across all borders find that to be “not right”, but it still exists today. I believe Mizoguchi was making a statement.
Lots of money can be made during a war. Think of how WWII galvanized American culture. Some people can make a fortune during a war, in any country. Also, the people in the movie were rural and lived in the 16th century; not a whole lot different than the towns we had during westward expansion in the 1800’s. I thought the setting was totally on point. Life was hard, that is just the way it was. I mean the house in “Little House on the Prairie” was not much better than the portrayal of living conditions in 16th century Japan, and “Little House” took place how many centuries later?
Because the movie was based on stories, I also looked at it from a literature point of view. The ghost elements were needed because that was the ‘magic’ that is in some literature like fairy tales. The last scene was highly reminiscent of the modern movie “Ghost” with Demi Moore, was it not? The boat scene can be compared to the boat scene in Robert Mitchum’s “The Night of the Hunter”. This movie had literary elements like those of fairy tales and morals like those found in Aesop’s Fables.
Lastly, movies are art. Some movies were bombs at the time of release, and it wasn’t until years later that it was “rediscovered” and becomes a classic. Some movies automatically become classics. It just depends on the perspectives of people of the time.
Thanks for the opportunity to speak (or type). 😉
Any time, Stephanie, come by whenever you like.