Sunday, December 30, 2012

Life in Japanese Film - Donald Richie

I received Donald Richie's 100 Years of Japanese Film for Christmas and thought I should seek out more information about the author and his thoughts on film in Japan.

I found this talk was interesting and wanted to share it here.
Life in Japanese Film Donald Richie

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Sisters of Gion - 祇園の姉妹, Gion no kyōdai - Mizoguchi 1936





In Sisters of the Gion the unconventional shots by director Kenji Mizoguchi can feel somewhat jarring, almost uncomfortable. Compared to popular methods used by Hollywood directors which appear to narrate their stories by seamlessly drifting back and forth between characters, sceneries, and adopting multiple points of view, Mizoguchi's methods come off as voyeuristic and haunting. 
In Sisters of the Gion the camera acts as the uninvited guest, lurking slightly out of view when the tension builds. During scenes where communication is interrupted, or obscured, the camera hides in the room, interested but afraid of the disharmony. For instance, when Kudo returns home to his wife after having spent the day with Omocha, the view is slightly obscured by the doorway as the action continues on inside of the room. This unwilling participant (the camera) is guilty, it knows that Kudo has taken on a courtesan and it hides, afraid to reveal itself and the truths that are still unspoken. Mizoguchi’s lens is highly emotional; during conflict it retreats to show that information is being obscured or that communication is not taking place. A more obvious example of this takes place toward the end of the film when Umekichi returns home to get her belongings after she decides to stay with Furusawa. She explains that she knows what Omocha has done, but exclaims that she does not want to talk about it; she is avoiding the confrontation by shutting down the conversation. The action here is seen from behind a support beam in the room. Once again this quite actually is showing the viewer that information is being obscured, and the camera is the knowledgable party. Once Umekichi leaves, the threat of confrontation is gone and the camera can comfortably move out into the open where Omocha is seen sitting alone. This same technique is used when Omocha is being carried into the hospital as she raves about how her actions toward men are justified, exclaiming that she will not change her ways. Umekichi rushes to her side, but still cannot understand her sister’s point of view; she chastises her for being so self-centered and explains that she must let go of her expectations of men. Throughout this scene the camera remains far from the action, going so far as to hide behind a screen that obscures any view of the pair whatsoever. Umekichi, though obligated to her sibling, cannot understand where she is coming from as she has been taken in by a poor but kind customer who she believes has devoted himself to her; she cannot feel Omocha’s anger, never mind understand her rationale. As the unwilling participant in all of this, the camera knows that the situation cannot be resolved here, and positions itself far away from the heat. 

At the very beginning and the very end of the film, there are key points where the sisters are on the same page and the camera is able to sit with them comfortably in a medium shot view. Early on, the pair sit at the table drinking tea and speaking openly about their differences. It is obvious that they have opposing opinions about their professional obligations to men, but at this point it is not problematic because communication has not yet been obstructed. The camera is able to attend the conversation, unafraid, and the two can discuss the matter without complication. This same medium shot is also used at the very end of the film where we find the sisters in a room with the camera in the very same position, after both have been abandoned/hurt by their patrons. They are once again able to converse in an honest manner despite their different opinions on the subject. The lines of communication are open once again and the camera is at ease in the room in spite of the seriousness of the subject. 


The role of the camera in Sisters of the Gion reveals not only the concealment of sincerity within this particular situation, but also that sincerity within the Gion, the pleasure quarters at large, is impossible. The plight of these women is that they are courtesans, and that because their services are purchased the idea of finding true love or an honest devoted relationship within these circumstances is highly unlikely, if not impossible. When patrons enter the pleasure quarters they leave behind their true obligations (family, wife, work, etc.) and adopt the role of the patron (sometimes even the role of the dandy). This is similar to the way that the geisha mask their own true desires (quite literally under makeup and elegant dress), in order to be of service to their patrons. In a way, the pleasure quarters are a fictionalized reality; these people are role playing. The geisha acts to boost the esteem of the patron who pays to be treated in a way that he may not be treated in reality. On this stage emotional sincerity is not welcome as it obfuscates the roles that are being portrayed. Omocha understands this; she realizes that she cannot get caught up in her emotions because they are insincere. Instead, she attempts to play the men in order to get something real, something concrete that she can hold on to; in this case, it is financial gain. Umekichi, on the other hand, does get caught in the emotional game, and falls for a patron. She decides that even though his devotion may be half-hearted, at least hers is sincere. That Umekichi attempts to be sincere in spite of the charade that she is caught up in is a testament to her humanity. She cannot help but feel love even in spite of the fact that she is not allowed to reveal her true-self to her patrons. Regardless of their differences, both women end up losing what they sought to gain in the first place. They are relegated to their roles as courtesans in spite of their humanity. I feel that Mizoguchi sympathizes with these women, and that he portrays the complexity of their emotional and socio-economic trappings honestly and with sincerity.