Ukigumo

Hideko Takamine and Masayuki Mori had an affair in Indo-China during the Second World War. Now they have returned to a conquered Japan, he to his wife and she to nothing. But they still love each other, although she more than he.

The idea of a woman sacrificing herself for a man, unworthy though he be -- as all men are -- in a "He'll be sorry when I'm dead!" mood, is certainly not unique to Japanese cinema, although Western culture tends to tack on a "Reader, I married him" happy ending. Even so, I often blink and tell myself "I give them six weeks." Either that, or it's MarySue fanfiction of the bleariest sort.

In short, this strikes me as what used to be called shopgirl fiction, piffle, and unworthy of Naruse, whose narratives of downtrodden women suffering in a misogynistic Japan speak of real problems, real anguish. Yes, he gave this movie his usual attention to detail. Yes, Hideko Takamine gives one of her sterling performances, and yes, Masayuki Mori gives a performance that, like many a Naruse film, smacks less of sympathy for the downtrodden than misandry. But piffle is piffle, and it's only by remembering that film is first and foremost commercial art, that this makes sense; it's a shopgirl movie from a novel by Fumiko Hayashi (1903-1951).

She was born the daughter of a poor peddler -- somehow "poor" is always attached to the noun, as if we think of guys who have to tramp hither and yon to sell their cheap wares, as eccentric millionaires. She tried to commit suicide on several occasions. By the end of the Second World War, she was Japan's top novelist; government-sponsored trips to China in which she reported that things were great kept her in the public eye. This was the fifth novel of hers that Naruse had made into a movie, and those are also highly regarded. I like the ones I've seen a lot, particularly MESHED.

This one, however, is shopgirl piffle, even though it is shopgirl piffle of the highest order.

This melodrama of postwar Japan seemed to resonate with the people I watched it with; many seem to have seen it when it came out and it really spoke to them; but alas it is really a turgid melodrama that can't sustain your interest. Well directed and acted; it none the less becomes a series of redundant bad break scenes for it's heroine. Worth seeing, but not one of the greats of Japanese film.

If you're looking for a movie that deals with clingy relationships, then Floating Clouds is without a doubt a movie that fits the bill to a T. Directed by Naruse Mikio and based upon the novel by Fumiko Hayashi, the female character in the movie will bring back memories of those who have had to deal with such stifling clinging, and well, for those who do act as such, a stark and accurate portrayal that would be akin to holding up a mirror and looking at oneself.

Hideko Takamine put up a commendable, if not personally what I deem as a remarkably irritating performance as Yukiko Koda, a woman perhaps with little self-esteem and respect, who decided to sacrifice an entire forest for one singular tree. Being sent to Indochina during WWII, she chances upon Kengo Tomioka (Masayuki Mori), and while he seemed to be prim and proper, and not giving her a second glance, soon they fall in love with each other, one despite having a wife back home, and the other, knowingly being the other woman.

But when the war ends and they get repatriated back to Japan, she looks him up, only to discover that he will not leave his wife, nor to rekindle their passion started in a foreign land. To make things worse, she discovers he's quite the cad, and to compound the problem, her insecurities and her paranoia makes you wonder why she can't afford to sever ties. It's one thing being made to suffer from unrequited love, but it's another if you are made to suffer deliberately, and bear witness to the insincerity of the other party. Running slightly over 2 hours, it does take its time to showcase the sorry state that Yukiko undergoes.

You can't really find fault with Naruse Mikio's direction of the movie - the handling of the narrative structure in the first act was deft, with the transition of time seamless, and the actors do their job to allow you to connect with their characters. However, like I mentioned, perhaps Yukiko Koda did such a fine job, that for me I found her to be a tad too irritating, even for my liking.

Ukigumo (1955), directed by Mikio Naruse, was shown as "Floating Clouds" at the Dryden Theatre in Rochester as part of a Naruse retrospective. This is Naruse's best-known film, and it stars his muse, the outstanding actor Hideko Takamine. The film is adapted from a novel by Fumiko Hayashi. Seven or eight of Naruse's films were based on novels by this author. Finally, many of the Toho studio supporting players appear in this movie, as they do in all of Naruse's films. In summary, "Floating Clouds" is classic Naruse.

As in many Naruse films, the theme is grim. Japan is still struggling in the aftermath of World War II. The economy is slow, and the pall of defeat still hangs over the country.

Although we think of the war as totally tragic for everyone involved--especially everyone Japanese--this isn't accurate. Hideko Takamine's character (Yukiko) had a passionate and sincere wartime romance with an engineer when they were both stationed in an area away from the combat zone. It becomes clear--ten years later--that this love affair was the high point of both their lives. Masuki Mori plays Kengo, the engineer who loves Yukiko, but who will never marry her.

The tragedy of the film is that both Yukiko and Kengo have known happiness, but realize they will never know it again. Such happiness as they can grasp is undone by the harsh realities of financial and physical problems.

This movie is not exactly a masterpiece, but it is the perfect film if you can only see one work by Naruse. It defines his themes, demonstrates his unique skills and extraordinary expertise, and showcases the best actors in his company. It's a movie worth seeking out and watching.

Ot the three senior directors who dominated the golden age of Japanese cinema, Mikio Naruse is the least known in the West. This could be partly due to the fact that unlike his contemporaries, Mizoguchi and Ozu, his cinematic language was more conventional and less innovative. And yet, if one looks long and hard, it becomes possible to identify stylistic trademarks that could be uniquely his, characters that are forever walking and interiors that are often shot from the centre of a room looking towards a corner. The very title is a metaphor for characters that are drifting their lives away with very little sense of purpose. The tragic couple, Yukiko and Kengo, who met in French Indo-China during the second world war when they were engaged on a forestry project find themselves drifting when they meet up again in a post-war Japan soured with defeat and despair. Generally when we see them they are walking, often through urban landscapes of a Tokyo desolate and scarred by the immediate past. They are always on the move in the manner almost of characters in a road movie to wherever they can travel, be it to a sad holiday resort out of season or a remote island drenched by rain that hardly ever stops. But their relationship is doomed partly because whatever passion they may feel for one another is always curiously out of sync with each other's. Their personalities are also deeply flawed to the extent that neither is able to cope with the social disadvantages of being part of a defeated nation. It has been said that defeat left many professional Japanese men feeling emotionally emasculated. This is certainly true of Kengo. As for Yukika, she has none of the stoicism of Mizoguchi's long suffering female protagonists. Dissatisfaction with her lot has left her whingeing with self pity. ""Floating Clouds" is a deeply pessimistic film in a way that Kurosawa's "The Silent Duel", which deals with a pair of lovers living through the similar period of the immediate aftermath of war, is not. Ultimately Kurosawa's characters come to terms with misfortune in a way that presages a future of some hope. Both films no doubt reflect their directors' widely different temperaments.