(Japan 1956 87m) DVD1/2
Aka. Akasen Chitai
Please, come in…
p Masaichi Nagata d Kenji Mizoguchi w Masashige Narusawa novel Yoshiko Shibaki ph Kazuo Miyagawa ed Kanji Suguwara m Toshiro Mayazumi art Hiroshi Mizutani
Machiko Kyo (Mickey), Ayako Wakao (Yasumi), Aiko Mimasu (Yumeko), Michiyo Kogure (Hanae), Kumeko Urabe (Otane), Yasuko Kawakami (Shizuko), Hiroko Machida (Yori), Eitaro Shindo (Kurazo Taya), Toranosuke Ogawa (Mickey’s father),
Mizoguchi’s final film isn’t one that generally gets mentioned amongst his finest works. There are several reasons why this might be the case. The most obvious is that he has made better movies, and when one looks at the likes of Sansho, Ugetsu and the like it’s hard to disagree. Does this is any way mean Street of Shame is less a masterwork than it is? It stands tantalisingly at a crossroads that the master director was prevented from following by his untimely death from leukaemia later that year. At the time of its release, critics wanted more along the lines of what had gone before, but Mizoguchi seems to have tired of the old-fashioned tales set in medieval times that made his name in the west. They may have allowed for parallels to be made to the present world, but in Street of Shame he creates his first major post-war work to explore the plight of embittered and embattled women in the present day.
Shame is set in the Dreamland brothel in the infamous Yoshiwara district of Tokyo, and follows the fortunes of several women, from young to middle aged, who work there; one of them has undertaken the profession because she needs to make money to raise her son, another wants out by marriage to a rich benefactor, while another, Mickey, has grown hard and cynical since leaving her parents because of her anger at her hedonistic father’s refusal to treat her mother with respect.
The whole film is overshadowed by a threat, embodied in the legislation being debated by the government to illegalise prostitution and, thus, bring an end to brothels such as Dreamland. Mizoguchi never judges these supposed fallen women, partly perhaps because he was no stranger to them himself in his private life, but also because he shows that the illegalisation of the industry would only make things worse. All that does is eradicate what was, for many young women at the time, the only solution to the problem of how to live. His young women may grow hardened and bitter, like Mickey, but it’s the cruelties and callousness of the world outside that makes them so. He’s also quick to expose the hypocrisy of shame, showcasing the ingratitude of the son who disowns his mother for choosing this way to pay to raise him, and in the attitude of Mickey’s father, who tries to take the moral high ground without realising his daughter’s state of mind and plight is largely down to his own attitude to his late wife.
As with all Mizoguchi’s major works, Street of Shame benefits from some truly superb performances. One expects great things of Kyo, and she is magnificently slutty, a truly erotic image of post-war Japan; but do not, however, overlook the contributions of Mimasu, Wakao and Kogure, who are all pitch perfect as her differing comrades in suffering. Gorgeously shot in moody monochrome – his previous two films has been in colour – it also possesses a startling frankness that belied the reputation for Japanese gentility of the time. Not only is the dialogue occasionally salty, but he even gives us a nude scene with Kyo behind frosted glass that was censored from some early export prints. What is perhaps most remarkable, therefore, is not the essences of his earlier work, but how the film looks forward to the franker sexual dramas of the Japanese New Wave from Oshima, Shimura and Masumura, a feeling intensified by the presence of Wakao in the cast. It makes one not only marvel at Mizoguchi’s desire to not just follow trends but lead his national industry down new paths, and also wonder at the darker masterpieces his premature death robbed us of. A truly untouchable film-maker.
Yes, he is untouchable, and his existence (as you note in this morning’s headline piece) is vital to our meeting up. He is one of Japan’s greatest filmmakers, hence of the world’s finest. This final work admittedly gets lost in the shuffle, but you’ve framed it very well here.
Just so you don’t think we’re not reading out here in cyberspace, excellent piece on a film I still need to see. I just acquired the Ugetsu as part of the B+N sale (as a birthday present, I can’t afford to sink much on DVDs these days, though you’ll be happy to know I went ahead anyway and purchased a used copy of the great A Nos Amours, which wasn’t available at the superstore. May also take the unwise plunge on Antichrist & WR as they have been mentioned as possible Christmas presents to relatives, whom I can easily imagine balking and choosing somewhat less inflamatory Criterions, leaving me to crack my own wallet…). Can’t wait to watch the myriad special features, including the doc on Mizoguchi. This film was one of the earliest Mizoguchis I heard of, preceded only by Ugetsu & Sansho, nice to see it is on DVD (as part of the Eclipse in the U.S., no?) and I look forward to finally seeing it.
Yes it is, though I have it on three DVDs, firstly the French (in a double bill with Yang Kwei Fei) with Eng subs, then the MoC R2 with the same pairing, then in the Eclipse, which I bought for Secrets of the Gion and Osaka Elegy.
Of the 4 or 5 Mizoguchi’s I’ve seen this is my favorite… maybe not the ‘best’ but the one I care for the most. I think it’s the one I return to most now because of my (ever) growing love for the Japanese New Wave (specifically Oshima), as Allan so wonderfully notes: “Gorgeously shot in moody monochrome – his previous two films has been in colour – it also possesses a startling frankness that belied the reputation for Japanese gentility of the time. Not only is the dialogue occasionally salty, but he even gives us a nude scene with Kyo behind frosted glass that was censored from some early export prints. What is perhaps most remarkable, therefore, is not the essences of his earlier work, but how the film looks forward to the franker sexual dramas of the Japanese New Wave from Oshima, Shimura and Masumura, a feeling intensified by the presence of Wakao in the cast.” If Melville is the chief figure in understanding French New Wave, this singular film seems to do that for the Japanese. Brilliant work here Allan.
Strangely enough I aggressively sought it out after becoming a Godard fanatic years ago. I saw Godard’s Vivre Sa Vie’ on loan from my college library, then read a little about it and Godard claimed that that film would have been ‘impossible’ to make or envision without Mizoguchi’s ‘Street of Shame’. It led me to see it, and I’ve adored it ever since.
Allan,
Another very well written review of a very good film.
You really get to care for these people as the writing and the acting is spot on. That last image you posted is brilliant. You can say so much with so little.
Thanks again, guys. This is it for Mizoguchi for this series. Next we move on just a few years but it seems like aeons to one of the masters of the said new wave. Two of his, then back to another old master for a couple, then two classics of the pinku/violentia genre, and then we turn our back on Japan and move on to pastures old, so to speak.
Maybe two years ago I saw this film on the big screen, and liked it for its frankness, for how matter-of-fact it was in its depiction of subject. So I saw it again recently, thanks to Criterion/Eclipse, as one of four films made available in the boxed set. Along with Women of the Night (1948), these two films are hard sells. Which is to say that Mizoguchi’s handling of subject matter pulls no punches. Unlike your more familiar examples of film noir, which I can luxuriate in like sinking into a warm bath, these two films did not offer a stylized, familiar comfort. Instead, they disturbed me, because the plight of these women presented them with circumstances that were difficult if not impossible to overcome, situations that were humbling, shaming, and agonizing for them to contend with. The two younger prostitutes were strong and yet naive in their handling, their approach toward their profession, whereas the older women, those with husbands, children, and the reality of advancing age, altered their outlook on men and their own diminishing futures. Very sobering, these films, I can’t see them as being popular in any mainstream fashion, yet they’re worth seeing, more people should see them, because Mizoguchi directed them in such a way as to make them accessible, at the end of the day you feel for these women, which is why Street of Shame had such an impact on Japanese society at the time it was made.
Hey Guy! How goes it? Great hearing from you my friend. Yeah, this is Allan’s review of course, but I just had top respond to you. I have seen this final Mizoguchi film and I concur with your cogent sociological insights, and your rightful consideration of the film as a powerful one. I too own that treasured Mizoguchi Eclipse set. Of course like most I love SANSHO DAYU more than any of his films, and consider UGETSU, THE OSAKA TRILOGY and THE STORY OF THE LATE CHRYSANTHEMUMS as masterpieces as well. Too bad the latter film can’t seem to get the DVD remaster it truly needs and deserves.