FILM REVIEW: The Japanese Film Weekender - The Little Theatre, Altrincham.

Manchester Film Weekender concluded their season of Japanese Films with a full weekend programme of 9 films between Friday night and Sunday afternoon at the wonderful Altrincham Little Theatre. The marathon of nine, foreign-language dramas in 48 hours is not for the faint hearted, but I excitedly took in six (I know… What a part-timer!) of these wonderful films and thoroughly enjoyed the whole event.

The weekend began in the Mercure Hotel with an introductory dinner on Friday evening, followed by an introduction by Guest Speaker Jonathan Bunt, Senior Lecturer in Japanese Studies at University of Manchester, whose affection for the chosen films was infectious from the outset. Bunt’s introduction gave an insight into the overarching theme of the weekend’s programme; the influence of theatre on Japanese cinema. Through this prism, and Bunt’s enthusiastic introduction to every screening, we had a way in to every film, despite how beguiling some of them were. Hosted by John Grieve, the weekend was meticulously planned, with transport laid on between venues, tea and coffee accompanied by copious sweet treats and a generous vegetarian buffet lunch on the Saturday and Sunday. It was a shame then that Friday began with some technical difficulties that were beyond the organiser’s control and Saturday morning was beset with yet more niggles. I felt for Grieve as he battled manfully against bad luck, as I too know how the best laid plans can be undone by malevolent devices.

The first film of the weekend was ‘A Story From Chikamatsu’ (Dir: Mizoguchi, K. 1954) Set in 1693 during a period of rigid feudal hierarchy and strict social customs, the film, adapted from a 17th century play by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, unfolds in the estate of a miserly scroll maker named Ishun. Ishun's wife, Osan, who turns to her husband's most trusted clerk for help to provide money for her own brother. Ishun’s awareness of his wife’s secret meetings, with his employee, leads to accusations of infidelity, which risks ruining his social standing. To avoid punishment, from her husband, Osan flees to the mountains with Ishun’s clerk in tow. Mizoguchi’s direction injects the story with pace, particularly during the first act, to the point where the conflict and crises mount so rapidly it could be construed as farcical were it not for the jeopardy and severity of events. It was an excellent film that really set the tone for the weekend, with the stoic characters finally giving way to flailing and having an intolerable tendency to say exactly what they’re feeling in the third act (which as a fan of Japanese film, I blimmin’ love!). Mizoguchi has, at the heart of this tale, a sympathy for women who face terrible cruelty from men and the patriarchal system in which they exist, but it is in a final moment where the director pins his colours to the mast. As one particularly unpleasant character finally meets his ruin, Mizoguchi omits the effect on him and instead cuts to his employees, redundant and sat amongst the emptied workplace discussing the events. I left the Mercure with a spring in my step. If they were all this good, we’d be in for a fantastic weekend.

Saturday morning began bright and early with what should have been a 9:30 screening of ‘The Ballad of Nayarama’ (Dir: Kinoshita, K. 1958) a stylised film, which wears its Kabuki influences proudly on its sleeve. However, as a quick replacement this film was pushed back in the schedule and replaced with ‘Throne of Blood’ (Dir: Kurosawa, A. 1957) Kurosawa’s adaptation of Macbeth, which was great to see on the big screen. However, I was disappointed not to see the Kinoshita film, and would be unable to see it on the Saturday night, the slot into which it had been moved. Oh well.

Throne of Blood was followed by a more contemporary offering in the form of ‘After Life’ (Dir: Kore-eda, H. 1988) in which the recently deceased must choose a memory to be screened for them in the form of a film. At the screening of the film, the deceased are able to enter that fond memory to spend eternity within it. This is a film which transports you entirely into its world and concept. I have to confess that I struggled to focus on the film in the first 15 minutes, because I had become so absorbed in the concept that I was busy thinking of what I would choose. Kore-eda uses a realist style for such a fantastical concept and this helps to really ground the audience in the intimate portrait it paints of its characters. It plays out with a meditative, methodical pace, but is thoroughly engaging, with such a thought-provoking concept and a humanist approach that is truly touching by the end. It is a wonderful film.

Another Chikamatsu adaptation was screened in the form of ‘Double Suicide’ (Dir: Shinoda, M. 1969). This period drama (a Jidai-Geki) features the tragic tale of a married paper merchant who falls for a courtesan, but he is unable to afford the ransom to free her from her masters, so… Well I wouldn’t want to include any spoilers in a review about a film called Double Suicide now would I?! Immediately after each screening I took a few notes in a jotter. Here is what I wrote after ‘Double Suicide’; “Offends every sensibility I possess, narratively, characterisation, gender politics and morals.” When I shared this sentiment with the weekend’s co-curator Jonathan Bunt he looked pleased and, with a glint in his eye said, “What the hell was Shinoda thinking making that film in 1969?!!” He picked a film that he expected to frustrate and annoy us?! I knew I liked Bunt!.

With ‘Chikamatsu’s Love In Osaka’ (Dir: Uchida, T. 1958) and ‘The Ballad of Nayarama’ (Dir: Kinoshita, K. 1958) left to watch on Saturday evening, I cried off and went home for some much needed light heartedness with my kids. ‘The Loyal 47 Ronin’ (Dir: Watanabe, K. 1958) which was originally scheduled for Saturday, had been put back until Sunday night so now there was a whopping total of ten films scheduled.

Sunday morning began with ‘An Actor’s Revenge’ (Dir: Ichikawa, K. 1963) a Jidai-Geki about Yukitaro, a Kabuki actor who specialises in female impersonation both on and offstage. An orphan, whose mother was driven to suicide by three cruel men, Yukitaro, in his female guise of Yukinojo, plots his revenge against these corrupt tormentors. This is a gleefully bonkers film, which is camp in both its gender-blurring performances and its jazzy, 1960's swanky tone. It is a little overcrowded with supporting characters, but is thoroughly entertaining and the expressive lighting is glorious to behold.

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s ‘Hana’ (2006) followed, and featured the tale of a Samurai in the middle of the Tokugawa period who is sworn to avenge his father’s death on behalf of his clan, but is reluctant to carry out his violent duty. Everyone emerged from the screening in full agreement that it was highly enjoyable.

The final offering of the weekend was ‘Late Spring’ (Dir: Ozu, Y. 1949) a contemporary drama about family (or ‘Shomin-Geki’). Set in post-war Japan, Ozu’s tale centres on Noriko, whose widowed father is eager to see her married off. The film is typical of Ozu’s themes of aging, generations and the rapid modernisation of post-war Japan. It is a meditative and slow-paced drama, but for me and many others in the auditorium, it was a highlight of the weekend.

Aside from the full programme of films, Altrincham Little Theatre’s bar was adorned with an exhibition of photography by John McKenna from his ‘Images of Japan’ series, but this collection was particularly focused on ‘Transient Moments’. Notoriously a nation of contradictions, McKenna’s work captures passing seasons, wildlife in manicured gardens, geisha using mobile phones and Japan’s architecture in all its glory. McKenna’s photographs are tactile and vibrant, capturing Japan as though one were in the environment when looking at it. He has eschewed the formal framing of Japanese aesthetics, so his photography is Japan through the eyes of a westerner, though some tell-tale influences have crept through. The image of a pagoda with an airline jet in the background feels straight out of an Ozu film and a beautifully shot image of a bridge is reminiscent of a woodblock print. McKenna clearly loves Japan and is taken by the culture’s notion of ‘Wabi-Sabi’, which, to put it far too simply, is the pleasure taken from impermanence and imperfection. I encourage you to visit his website www.johnmckenna.net and explore his work further.

I feel that this programme was very thoughtfully chosen and the central theme offered a decent range of texts, but Japan’s film output is hugely diverse and in turn is capable of producing films which elicit feelings of pure joy, hilarity, bafflement and thrills. I sincerely hope that this isn’t the last we’ll see from this national cinema. I am a man of quite crass tastes and feel that a sword-slashing Chanbarra or Tokyo-stomping DaiKaiju-Eiga for the sake of some cheap thrills would have not gone amiss.

What the Japanese Cinema Weekend did instead was offer 5 bona-fide classic auteurs, who are essential to any viewing list for fans/students of Japanese cinema, two films by the reigning master of Japanese film (Kore-eda) and one film adaptation of perhaps Japan’s most famous tale in their national identity. Phew! That’s a pretty strong selection of films. At the end of the event, Co-curator John Grieve teased a new season and weekend of Nordic films, so please keep an eye on www.manchesterfilmweekender.org.uk to see what they have in store for us next. Manchester Film Weekender is a very friendly and inclusive society that I urge anyone to join because novices and experienced fans of world cinema were welcomed with equal respect. You can pay for individual films and decide to pay on the door if you make a last minute decision to attend. They’ll be waiting with a nice cuppa, a lovely biscuit and a good movie when you do.

Reviewer - Ben Hassouna-Smith
on - 1-2/2/20