by Allan Fish
(Japan 1954 125m) DVD1/2
Aka. Sansho the Bailiff
When will your children be home?
p Masaichi Nagata d Kenji Mizoguchi w Fuji Yahiro, Yoshikata Yoda novel Ogai Mori ph Kazuo Miyagawa ed Mitsuji Miyata m Fumio Hayasaka art Kasaku Ito
Yoshiaki Hanayagi (Zushio), Kyoko Kagawa (Anju), Kinuyo Tanaka (Tamaki), Eitaro Shindo (Sansho), Akitaka Kono (Taro), Masao Shimizu (Masauji Taira), Ken Mitsuda (P.M.Morozane Fujiwara), Chieko Naniwa (Ubatake), Kikue Mori (Priestess), Kazukimi Okuni (Norimura), Masahiko Kato, Keiko Enami,
Akira Kurosawa always referred to Mizoguchi as the greatest Japanese director. Many critics have agreed with him over the years and, though the great man directed numerous great films before his untimely death in 1956, this final masterpiece is arguably his finest achievement, long overshadowed by Ugetsu Monogatari released the previous year, but at the very least its equal. In the same year Kurosawa released The Seven Samurai, Mizoguchi was making a radically different analysis of the lot of the peasant in feudal Japan.
In the Japan of the 11th century, when “the majority of the people were considered less than human“, an official is exiled after he incurs the wrath of ministers for his trying to stop the exploitation of the peasant class. Seven years later, his wife and children set out to follow him, but they are attacked by bandits and, as the mother is taken away to begin life as a prostitute on Sado Island, the children are sold off into slavery at the hands of the merciless bailiff, Sansho. Years later, the children – still in slavery – are now 23 and 18 respectively and the young girl persuades her elder brother to make a run for it without her. Though he vows to come back for her, she realises her situation is hopeless and commits suicide. Meanwhile, their mother anxiously awaits them daily, now crippled after an escape attempt of her own.
There is much simple truth to be garnered in the script of Sansho, a script typical of his unforgettable collaborations with regular partner Yoshikata Yoda. It differs slightly, however, in that though as with many Mizoguchi films the women suffer the most, the real protagonist here is the son, Zushio. He grows from a young boy idolising the final words spoken to him by his father (“without mercy, man is like a beast…no-one should be denied happiness“) to a cynical youth giving into his own barbarism before his sister’s faith restores his hope. But as always with Mizoguchi, it’s the women who remain the most steadfast, both mother and daughter clinging beyond all hope to the thought of awakening from this nightmare. Like Penelope in Ithaca awaiting news from Troy, Tanaka’s mother hobbles about on the cliff-tops, her cries for her children reverberating like a timeless echo. At one point, many miles away, daughter Anju is convinced she hears her mother crying and we, too, hear a distant cry. Though it’s an illusion, the fact is that, at that same moment, her mother is very likely crying for them.
These three central characters are arguably the most pitiable in Japanese movie history, and they are all played in suitably emotive fashion. Hanayagi is excellent as the tortured Zushio, reduced to but a shadow after a life’s suffering. Kagawa (more recently memorable in Kore-Eda’s After Life) is heart-breaking as the doomed Anju, the scene where she recognises her and her brother in a song sung by someone who must have heard it from her mother is one of the most emotional scenes in cinema. Yet it isn’t even the most emotional scene in the film, that honour going to the finale, one to reduce the most cynical of viewers to breaking out the family sized pack of Kleenex. (Much of the credit here must go to Mizoguchi’s favourite actress, the incomparable Kinuyo Tanaka.) All this and we haven’t even mentioned the gorgeous photography of Kazuo Miyagawa, confirming him as Japan’s one true master of that art. In the end, though, it’s Mizoguchi’s triumph, a universal film that speaks to everyone. “Men have little sympathy for things that don’t affect them” we are told. It’s a sad but too often true comment, but I guarantee that there can be no-one who is not affected by this film. Majestic.
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Writers/Founders
Well, who wrote the better review, Sam or Allan?
The answer:
It’s a tie.
Carry on, men.
Sam wrote the better review – mine was written years ago and wasn’t one of my best.
In both your review (and in Sam’s) I see some many ‘superlatives’ being thrown around. You say the ‘three central characters are probably the most pitiable in Japanese movie history” Strong feelings like this go a long way.
Allan, I also declare the comparison between the two reviews a tie (and don’t you dare call that cheating!). And what an interesting comparison: same movie, same reverence, many of the same elements covered, yet two individual approaches. As I have stated here before, WitD is blessed to have two such perceptive and articulate writers at one site.
Allan, one thing you mentioned that Sam didn’t–and I think this is an important point–is the double transformation of Zushio. He goes from good, following his father’s advice that compassion is what separates humans from animals, to evil, a cat’s paw of Sansho motivated by his own well-being and self-advancement (remember when he brands the would-be escapee?), then back to good again (after the little shrine gets him the governorship) to use his power to free the slaves, knowing that he will as a result lose his political position (just like his father did for defying the rulers and taking the side of the peasants). That little shrine, by the way, contains an image of the goddess of mercy, Kwan Yin (it’s spelled differently in the subtitles).
Wonderful comparison of Tanaka’s mother to Penelope, and the use of the song as a unifying device and a way of keeping the siblings’ quest for their mother going. And I agree that for me it’s a toss-up between this film and “Ugetsu,” the only two films I’ve seen by Mizoguchi, but certainly not the last. Apples and oranges. But what apples and oranges! (Additional comments to follow under Sam’s post.)
For other essentials, Finchy, check out Osaka Elegy, Sisters of the Gion, The Story of the Late Chrysanthemums, Five Women Around Utamaro, My Love Has Been Burning, The Life of Oharu, Chikamatsu Monogatari and Street of Shame, though in fairness any Mizoguchi is a treat in some way.
Allan:
My review is in NO WAY better, just DIFFERENT. You have left nothing out in your superlative capsule, and it stands among your best piece.
R.D. noted it and said what had to be said.
I am thrilled we had TWO reviews of this up at the site today. It’s a testament to this film’s greatness.
You two are the equivalent of Siskel and Ebert, who were disbanded by fate.
Keep up the great work. I haven’t seen this film, but both of you make it like something you need to do before you die.
Beautiful review of an astounding film, Allan.
I love Mizoguchi’s characterizations of the women in this work, of course, but like you said, I think there is also a deft sophistication to his depiction of Zushio and Taro. They are not flat characters, but people who struggle with issues of masculinity, honor, compassion and conscience. When you sit back and really take in all this film accomplishes, it’s astounding. It’s as much a masterwork study of morality and human nature as is a Greek classic like Antigone.
Also the camerawork held me captive in reverie the entire film. I know from the bonus features that Mizoguchi left the camera angles and cinematography choices to Miyagawa, but that man definitely deserves some props. Excellent, excellent beautiful lyrical work from opening frame to the end. Simply breathtaking.
Watching SANSHO was one of those unique “other-wordly” experiences. I’m not that familiar with Japanese cinema, and this was the first Mizoguchi film I have seen. The way in which the plot unfolded and was paced combined with the camera angles and editing was nothing short of poetic. I loved the way the “action” moved inside the camera’s frame and the transitioning from scene to scene.
There were a few moments (like Anju wading in the water after her daring escape) where I felt like the laws of time and space had been annihilated and I was totally lost in that single “moment.” As you said, this is breathtaking stuff.
My only qualm was some of the overly emotive acting which at times seemed disembodied from the well-ordered and dignified mise-en-scene , but I take it that was considered the appropriate “style” for such a melodramatic fable, and as I said I’m not that familiar with Japanese cinema so I am not sure where to rate it againt comparable films. It may very well have been quite fine.
Thanks to Allan for this review which opened my eyes to this great film!
Yes, you need to take in quite a few more, David – anything that made my top 50 must be sought out, but there’s so much more besides in other decades.
Sorry…I should’ve said “as Jennybee said…breathtaking stuff” — So many great minds on this site it’s like being stuck in a whirlwind!
I dunno about whirlwind, but we’ll take 7 or 8 on the Beaufort Scale.
l like this post