by Allan Fish
(Japan 1964 104m) DVD1/2
Aka. The Hole
Mask of the Black Sun
p Hisao Itoya, Setsuo Noto, Tamotsu Minato d/w Kaneto Shindo ph Kiyomi Kuroda ed Toshio Enoki m Hikaru Hiyashi art S.Shindo
Nobuko Otawa (mother-in-law), Jitsuko Yoshimura (daughter-in-law), Kei Sato (Hachi), Jukichi Uno (samurai), Taiji Tonomura (Ushi),
I first saw Kaneto Shindo’s dark masterpiece back in the late nineties. It was shown on Film Four with an introduction from William Friedkin which may have had something to do with the furore over the re-release at the time of The Exorcist in the UK. Friedkin admirably described his feelings for the film, and referred to it as the most frightening film ever made. Of course such an assertion is dependent on the viewer and wholly arbitrary, but one can see where he was coming from. Onibaba is a film like no other, one of the very few in the cinema which can genuinely be called haunting. Released in the same remarkable year that also saw Teshigahara’s Woman of the Dunes and Kobayashi’s Kwaidan, it may turn out to be the best of the three.
During the sixteenth century, a mother and her daughter-in-law (their son and husband having gone to war) live by killing stray deserting samurai and soldiers and selling their armour for grain to make meagre food. However, the younger woman becomes attracted to a potential victim and jealousy and suspicion arise, which come to a head when a mysterious samurai wearing a demonic mask calls upon them.
The first images that come to mind when thinking of this film are of the endless shots of the long susuki grass billowing softly in the breeze. Indeed, on the surface this is a tranquil film, certain shots recalling Flaherty’s Louisiana Story, but that’s where the tranquillity ends. Man is a contemplative animal, but at his heart he is a savage, and underneath the restful imagery there are savages lurking within. This is a film that explores the feral barbarism at the heart of our very being, a feeling intensified by Hiyashi’s unforgettable score, punctuated by occasional faux screams and wild drums. Yet more than anything, it’s the visuals one returns to, for this is a largely visual film. Yes, there is dialogue, but it is sparsely used, relying on the pictures to tell much of the story, which of course adds to the unease (nothing frightening about words, but images are another matter). It’s a film that revels in contrasts of every kind, from the darkness of the images, even when gorgeously sun-kissed, as if by a black sun, to the editing and mise-en-scène of certain shots. Notice the juxtaposition of the shot where the younger woman is beating her laundry dry by the lake, emphasising the savage in her and predating Kubrick’s watering hole by four years. On the other hand, we have the sexual angle, from the dark abysses of Yoshimura’s fiery pupils (a reference to the eponymous abyss into which bodies are dropped) to the lingering caress of Kuroda’s camera on her naked thighs. Indeed, the erotic angle is very potent, shocking not just in terms of its nudity, which was undoubtedly plentiful for 1964 (though necessarily so, emphasising the heat on display), but even the sexual cavortings of Yoshimura and her lover, who kisses her nipples with the animal frenzy of a man recently released from a vow of celibacy.
All of which doesn’t even come close to examining all the subtexts of this piece, including that of the mask, a motif also familiar to those who know their Dumas, LeRoux and Franju, and that of the Buddhist fable on which it is based. It’s also very difficult to sign off without mentioning the performances, so much of which are communicated through glances, gesticular performances in every way. Yoshimura’s feral expressions are perfect as the younger woman, while Otowa (Shindo’s long-time muse) is unforgettable, with an appearance equal parts Machiko Kyo in Ugetsu and James Whale’s monster’s mate, finally revealed by the mask to have a soul to put the portrait in Dorian Gray’s attic to shame. The opening caption says the tale’s “darkness has lasted since ancient times.” Shindo’s film will ensure that it does so for at least a little longer.
Excellent review of a film I found an interesting but minor film. The thing I remember most of all was the rampant sexual starvation of the two women.
Hello Bobby our good friend!
Well, while I agree with you on the film’s most compelling theme, I don’t regard this as a minor film. I agree with Allan’s reasonably high placement of it, and I have always found this a riveting, pounding, and frightening tale, which is Shindo’s greatest film (edging out THE NAKED ISLAND) and one of the greatest Japanese film of the 60’s. Masks have never been utilized to such stunning visual effect as in this film, methinks.
Indeed, Sam and Allan, I definitely concur: Onibaba is among the most ferociously eerie and impressively haunting of Asian films. Speaking of Friedkin, the mask from this Japanese classic inspired the rather menacing visage of Captain Howdy in The Exorcist — one of only a handful of faces capable of giving me the definite willies (the other that comes immediately to mind is that of BOB from Twin Peaks).
And the Gentlemen from Buffy, or, scariest of all, Sarah Jessica Parker in, well, just about anything.
This film made one hell of an impression on me when I saw it on the big screen back in the Eighties, enough so that I had to have it when Criterion released it on DVD, I was eager to revisit what I had seen so many years ago. The whole dynamic between the mother-in-law/daughter-in-law is really the crux of the film, they both hunger for gratification, but the younger woman has youth in her favor, while the older one finds herself in a state of fevered desperation. While the entrance of the masked samurai is what spills Onibaba over into the realm of the horror film, it’s really so much more. Love the way the reeds roll in motion in the wind, much like the surface of water, and the sound of pigeons when the naked lovers run through the reeds in abandon. Incredible that this film was made in the early Sixties. Also, special mention should be made of the younger woman’s feral beauty, unforgettable. And I wonder if Stephen King had Onibaba in mind when he wrote Delores Claiborne, specifically the scene where Kathy Bates lures her husband to the hole in which he falls to his death.
Hey Guy!
Well, I must say that my own first viewing was pretty much like your own. The mother-in-law/daughter-in-law dynamic is indeed the center of the film. You do a wonderful job there relating the feel and sound of the film. By the way, the pounding drum score is absolutely eerie and extraordinary. The young woman’s beauty is indeed striking. The film does work on a number of levels, and it’s never less than riveting throughout.
I never got that King connection there! Nice.