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Directed and shot with some style, this is a rather lovely tragic drama involving a quartet of characters.

Very Japanese in it's thrust and preoccupations this well told tale pleases and surprises as it unfolds ever unpredictably.

There is much talk of love and betrayal, forgiveness and of course suicide.

The scenes involving the taking of the powders from the bright red squares of paper are astonishing.

Ever beautiful with effective music this not overlong classic of 60's Japanese cinema is a real treat.

If I can make a Hollywood reference for Manji, I'd suggest it's a little bit like Closer, except that it's a lot more intense with its expressions of love and lust, and extremely manipulative characteristics built into its four lead characters, each faced with selfish desires and dilemmas, centred around things like blackmail, suicide pacts and adultery.

Housewife Sonoko Kakiuchi (Kyoko Kishida) narrates her tale to a stern looking man (A cop? A biographer? A shrink even?) who maintains his silence throughout that it seemed a little creepy. From nowhere in her account of her tale did this chap feature in it, so one can only wonder that he must be someone significant enough to warrant her to spill the beans to.

Being victims of art school gossip, Sonoko and Mitsuko (Ayako Wakao), the pretty daughter of a wealthy industrialist and a fellow student in Sonoko's school, decide to take one step forward in killing off malicious talk, and that is to play along to make it all seem real to quash delight in talking behind someone's back. A short trip to Nara later, and the duo seem to have clicked and hit it off like best pals with common interests.

Soon their friendship ventured into some crazed sexual obsession, especially when Mitsuko's model looks and figure drive Sonoko wild with envy and strange desire, paving the way for some lesbian moments. And as if their passion for each other isn't enough, soon they are joined by Kotaro (Riji Funakoshi), Sonoko's questioning husband, and Watanuki (Yusuke Kawazi) the clingy fiancé of Mitsuko. Various threesome relationships soon start to form, with credit going to magic powder that contributed to blending reality and fantasy, and Sonoko and Watanuki engaging in a blood pact of sorts in a strange ritual to possess their object of desire in Mitsuko to themselves.

For all the characters' cunningness, especially in master manipulator Mitsuko and the equally shady Watanuki, I was half expecting some of its plot elements to venture into a more conventional, and material blackmail and ruin with contracts so casually signed and sealed (in blood), but I guess director-in-focus for the festival Yasuzo Masumura had other ideas, opting for the psychological and the emotional turmoil that each of the characters face. There's this tremendous trust-mistrust emotional ping pong that the characters go through which will keep you constantly questioning and probing their intent and hidden agendas. To me the actual highlight is exactly these mind games the four characters play, the tussle to gain upper ground to fulfil their personal wants, brought to life excellently by the actors themselves that will keep you engaged all the way to the finale.

For those looking forward to its exploitative moments, this is not that film. Comparing it to its genre peers, Manji seemed a little tame, where sexual acts are mostly implied and nudity falling victim to strategic cover-ups. I suppose that the lip locks too didn't actually happen and had to rely on camera angles, and body doubles aptly used in the gazing of the naked flesh. But then, the largest sexual organ is firmly in top gear here, not as a stimulant but as a weapon in coming up with conniving schemes to gain the upper hand, which in itself is a horrific thought since we are all innately capable of falling prey to temptation enough to design plans that hurt.

The festival films thus far had steered clear of the more conventional thought of the themes presented, and clearly it's an eye opener as to how many more films could fit into the themes in an unorthodox way. One thing though, from last night's screening and today's, artists or artists wannabe have been shown as souls willing to engage in deviant acts in the name of their art, and more so too in satisfying their strange fetishes. I look forward to see what more is in store in the subsequent screenings!

You know what ground you're treading with Manji from the get go. From the swastika (the titular Manji) that announces the film's title, there's nothing understated about it. The story of lesbian love between the middle-class wife of a lawyer and a strikingly gorgeous model who poses for painters at the centre of Manji is not of the suggestive 'glances and gestures' variety, this is not a drama on homosexual love repressed by a rigid Japanese society, rather a soaring melodrama masquerading a seemy underbelly of lies and morbid obsession.

It's true that the movie requires on the part of the viewer a few jumps in logic. It asks him to accept that two complete strangers become so obsessed with each other in a matter of days. But this is a two hour movie neatly crammed in 90 minutes so the narrative economy is not wasted. Out of the sweet, alluring love affair between the two women director Yasuzo Masumura twists a progressively more nightmarish, demented scenario, a convoluted story of fatal obsession, the addiction to a perverse love, the need to control and be controlled and how quick humans are to elevate other humans to a pedestal, eager to worship and die for them.

If the movie seems to be twisting and writhing under the burden of its own narrative weight, with small alliances, blood oaths, rifts and reconciliations and all manner of cajoling and petty chicanery taking place between the four major participants (the two women, the husband of one and fiancé of the second) as each tries to win the object of his desire or fend someone else from doing so, stick with it. Masumura has paced the film and shaped his story so expertly that, by the one hour mark, this tale of domestic treachery has spiralled out of control into full blown paranoia, a bizarre and creepy psychological horror film of sorts that happens so naturally and feels so perfectly plausible at that point as to excuse the more overwrought tendencies that preceed it.

The movie reflects that kind of claustrophobic obsession on every level. Limited cast, tight shots, static camera, close grouping of the actors in the frame, no exterior shots, monotonous piano score. Any way you see it, this is a minor aesthetic triumph for Masumura. Strongly recommended.

'Manji' is a film worth seeing. Written by Kaneto Shindô (of 'Onibaba' fame) and based on a novel by Tanizaki (of 'Some Prefer Nettles' fame), the story chronicles the decent/ascent of the unhappily married woman, Sonoko, into an obsessive/liberating relationship with another woman, Mitsuko, associated throughout the film with the goddess of mercy. While all of the main characters' emotions run high, placing 'Manji' firmly in the genre of melodrama, the emotional intensity is always tempered with an element of sly humor. Both Sonoko and Mitsuko have complex motivations, and each is keenly aware of the machinations of the other, ensuring that the story is about passion, weakness, and love, and not about unexamined emotions and victimization.

What do you get when you combine early-60's hairdo's and makeup, histrionic Japanese love triangles and forbidden lesbian passion? In this case, a wonderfully bonkers movie that deserves a larger cult audience.

Any movie that features blood oaths, suicide pacts, taboo love affairs and a wife screaming "You don't love me enough! I need more love!" is one I'll want to see again and again. (Too bad it's so hard to come by in the U.S. -- the film screened recently at the American Cinematheque and Outfest in L.A., and at the San Francisco Gay/Lesbian Film Festival, but apparently only after much paperwork with Japan. Still, if you actually get a chance to see it, DO NOT MISS IT!

This film essentially begins with a bored housewife by the name of "Sonoko Kakiuchi" (Kyoko Kishida) deciding to fill some time by taking some courses at a nearby art school. While there she happens to notice another art student named "Mitsuko Tokumitsu" (Ayako Wakao) and immediately falls in love with her. So much so, that she even transposes Mitsuko's face onto a portrait she was drawing of a female model in her class. It's during this time that the principal of the school notices her artwork and immediately recognizes the difference and remarks about it in front of the class. Needless to say, this causes quite a bit of gossip among the other female students who quickly speculate about a romantic involvement between the two--even though Sonoko has never even spoken to Mitsuko at that time. So, to remedy that situation, Sonoko eventually summons enough courage and introduces herself. Not long afterward, the two become lovers. Naturally, it isn't too long before Sonoko's husband "Kotaro Kakiuchi" (Eiji Funakoshi) and Mitsuko's fiancé "Eijro Watanuki" (Yusuke Kawazu) realize what is happening--and things immediately take a turn for the worse from that point on. Now, rather than reveal any more, I will just say that this was a bizarre romantic drama which clearly benefited from the acting of Kyoko Kishida and the beauty of Ayako Wakao. Admittedly, it starts off a bit slow and features some typical Japanese overacting at times, but even so, I enjoyed this film for the most part, and I have rated it accordingly. Slightly above average.

By 1964 standards, this film really doesn't mess around, nor does it take any prisoners. It's fairly blatant about the story centering on two women who fall in love, but also don't entirely cut their husbands/male partners out of their lives, which leads to complications and some drastic things that feel a little extreme, but I'd chalk it up to Japan being a different culture at a different time... or just the film trying to make a point, and not necessarily be a reflection of how this situation would play out in real life. Have to accept it's one or the other; I think you just have to admit defeat, in a way, by saying you don't always know for sure when it comes to foreign films.

The dark and emotionally intense places Manji goes also make it feel a bit melodramatic, but again, I can't assume. And even then, if it is melodrama, I think it's mostly well-done melodrama; that kind of thing isn't automatically bad. Maybe there's some repetition and characters saying things in such a blatant way that can feel forced, but it could be partly intended. Perhaps it's wrong to assume it either is or isn't clunky dialogue. The truth could be somewhere in between.

Waffling here. It's not well-paced, but the film is well-acted and I admire how it handled such a story 60 years ago. If some of the melodrama was intended, then I think the writing was acceptably blunt and the performances were effectively heightened. The grimmer parts of the story don't quite devastate the way I thought they would, but that might be owing to the film's structure, with one character narrating a series of events from her perspective. It creates some intrigue, but also some sense of inevitability; a bit of a double-edged sword. And then it also ends pretty suddenly.

But I have to keep coming back to it being good for its time. I wasn't expecting this film to take the approach it did, and I imagine it would've caused at least some controversy in Japan at the time.

Snooze inducing story, pathetically unrealistic dialog, the only saving grace of this turd is the person I mentioned in the review title (my favourite actress of all times as of now) being superb in the material she's handed, but other than that this is no A Wife Confesses nor Irezumi and it shows. Avoid safely for other movies by the same Yasuzo Masamura and you'll be better served.

I really love this film, for no better reason than to watch, eyes agape and heart throbbing, at the beautiful performance of Ayako Wakao as Mitsuko. Mitsuko is SO charming, seductive and sexy in this, that I almost pay no attention to the somewhat twisty plot of the movie. It has something to do with wily women working their wicked ways on each other and a couple of men in their lives. And it all ends up in a sort of crazy, tragic finale. But none of that really matters to me. What's important is to watch Mitsuko – truly one of the most charmingly seductive flirts to ever grace the screen.

I marvel at every breathless syllable, every sly tilt of the head, every deceitful flicker of the eyes that this woman carries out. Perfection! Nice hair, too! She is so fluid and natural, that one never entertains the notion that this is an actress performing a role. I've had the opportunity to see Ms. Wakao in other films, where she can be much more cold and reserved, so this performance of hers in Manji was truly a pleasant surprise, and really, quite a gift to someone like me who appreciates a woman's charm and beauty – in spite of the fact that, in this film anyway, it's all for the most manipulative of reasons.

I would add that there is excellent supporting work done by Kyoko Kishida (Sonoko) who plays opposite Mitsuko as the woman who falls irrevocably under her spell. Her final line at the end of the movie is so heart-wrenchingly memorable. (I couldn't help but think that it would have been great if they could have gotten Toshiro Mifune to play the part of her husband.)

The DVD from which I viewed this (2002 release, letterbox format) is a very nice transfer but for one small segment where, for some strange reason, the colors nearly vanished and the picture went to a near-sepia tone. The movie was beautifully filmed - thankfully in color - and features nice use of color in areas such as costumes and set design. And I'll just add one more gratuitous nod to the beauty of Mitsuko: the use of color ensures that she looks ravishing in her print dresses. One other area of note: the very effective background music. At times it has a rather somber, foreboding element, somewhat resembling the slow, deliberate piano intro of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2.

All in all a nicely done, memorable movie, but I'll always remember it for Mitsuko.

...for me was very boring. I saw it only because I have a special respect for the Japanese film in general, especially for filmmakers such as Kurosawa or Mizoguchi, Ozu or Kobayashi, Kon Ichikawa, Kaneto Shindo, Hiroshi Teshigahara, etc. I was also curious as to where the subject will go. But in an hour and a half does not happen much, repetitive scenes, all told by Sonoko Kakiuchi, the main female character. The actors acting is OK, the other actress, Mitsuko Tokumitsu's performer, Ayako Wakao, is very beautiful, but everything is a big boredom. Kyôko Kishida, who plays the character Sonoko Kakiuchi, is the protagonist of Hiroshi Teshigahara's famous film, "Woman in the Dunes".

Wonderful film based on the novel "Quicksand" by Juinichiro Tanizaki and directed by the great Japanese director Yasuzô Masumura, the film tells the story of a married woman who begins a sick and obsessive love relationship with a beautiful and ruthless young girl (played by a marvelous Ayako Wakao), that insane relationship will lead to a tragic ending ...

The movie tells a story about passion, love and betrayal, displaying tons of sensuality stylishly without need of being explicit...

The are too many other versions of this movie made years later but I highly doubt that they can come any closer to this piece of art...

MASTERPIECE

The cinematography, the actors, the symbols. Everything is perfectly placed to create a tale of lust, obsession, and betrayal. At first, I wasn't sure if I liked this movie. But toward the middle, the more the plot spun into what seemed like a million different twists I hadn't seen coming, the more and more I trusted this film knew what it was doing. I won't give anything away. But fans of Junji Ito's Tomie would approve of this one. //Little light on the gore though. XD

Lurid. Hysterical. Gaping improbabilities and plot holes. I thought this might be a must-see because of the presence of Kyoko Kishida, long-faced, thick-lipped, huge-eyed woman in Suna no onna made the same year as Manji and the bizarre nurse in Tanin no kao made two years later. Turns out her other-worldliness was Teshigahara's invention. She's had a much varied 44 year career, mostly away from us here. See Manji for Teshigahara's woman and nurse.

The other woman, despite a long, somewhat distinguished career, looks and acts like an Elizabeth Taylor stand-in tumbled out of Tennessee Williams land. But surely this is director Masmura's invention.

(Manji, by the way, is the Buddhist cross on the DVD box.)