Kurutta ippêji

If you do not think you can take graphic scenes of mentally unstable people, this film is not for you.This story is about a man who takes a job at a local mental institution so he can be near his wife, who has gone mad. Throughout this long thought lost film you see clearly harrowing images of people at the institution. The soundtrack only adds to the foreboding. There are people lying catatonic and there is a dancer who doesn't stop dancing until she drops to the floor, exhausted. The film is 59 minutes long, I think it was originally longer but this was all that was found. There are no inter titles, its a silent film. In Japan, I am certain the benshi narrated the story in theaters, but your imagination has to follow this story. So, why a 7? It is daring, unflinching, brave and both ugly and not at the same time. As a point of reference only, Guy Maddin's work approaches this. Just know going in there is no happiness here. You won't soon forget this film. Best idea: Don't watch it before bedtime, it will stay with you.

A Page of Madness is an expressionistic Japanese film that has not gotten the attention it deserves. I was introduced to the film through the fifteen part documentary series The Story of Film an Odyssey. Fortunately, a friend had dubbed the silent film off of Turner Classic Movies during one of its infrequent showings.

The clip in The Story of a Film an Odyssey looked like some mad movie genius had crossed the set designs from a German expressionist film with the fast edits of a classic Russian work. This clip was from the attention grabbing opening of A Page of Madness. A janitor wanders an insane asylum at night during a storm. The storm has a strange effect on the patients and, presumably, the attendant. The edits are fast, conveying mystery and terror like in a horror film. This sequence (and a sequence at the climax) is nothing short of brilliance.

From here the film turns to a narrative, although an oblique one. This clerk or janitor seems to have an unhealthy fixation on one of the female patients. . . and more of one for this patient's daughter. The janitor clearly knew this family before the mother was committed. IMDb says that the woman is the janitor's wife. I am not doubting this, but the film is not clear on this point. What is clear is that the janitor is suffering from a lack of love. This janitor is not the only one. One patient is compelled to dance suggestively and nearly starts a riot. By contrast, the doctors appear clinical and ineffectual. As the film goes along, the protagonist's mental state seems to wane.

Much about the plot is unclear. Many Japanese silent were narrated by a spokesman in the theater. This may have been the case with A Page of Madness; thus, some of the ambiguity would have been explained by the live narrator. I prefer to think the ambiguity was deliberate and never explained. The film has a wonderful sense of mystery to it. I don't want any more of an explanation. I (and probably most film fans) watch a lot of movies that are merely fair. These films are watchable, but they do not stay in one's memory. That is why A Page of Madness is so stunning. It kicks the door down and announces itself to the world. I feel less like a reviewer than a herald for a lost classic. Are you listening Criterion?

Kurutta Ippeji offers a view on the distorted perspective of a troubled janitor in a mental asylum. As a proof of concept, it shows that experimental cinematic techniques can affect the way narration is perceived by the viewer - here, the visual elements contribute to how the viewer experiences the characters' mental state. As an experiment, the movie possibly even makes a stronger case than the comparably surreal Hausu (1977), which is partly imbalanced in its style. However, due to the poor visual quality and the lack of functional storytelling, this experimental feature can't be easily recommended to people looking for a more conventional feature. Overall 7/10 Full Review on movie-discouse.blogspot.com

Film history has been negligent in recognizing this landmark silent drama, made in 1926 by pioneering Japanese director Teinosuke Kinugasa, but unknown until 1971, when a surviving print was (literally) unearthed in the director's garden shed. The film was produced in an isolated creative environment far removed from any foreign influence, but is nevertheless a masterpiece of imagery and editing, revealing a stunning visual flair and employing montage techniques as skillfully as anyone since Eisenstein. It tells a powerful, hallucinatory story of a janitor in an insane asylum who wants desperately to help his inmate wife after she attempts suicide, and like Murnau's 'The Last Laugh' unfolds without the crutch of intertitles. The film has aged remarkable little after the better part of a century in limbo, but since its belated rediscovery has yet to earn the acclaim and evaluation it deserves.

I saw the 1 hour version shown on TCM. I'll like to see the 78 minute restoration as this version has no inter titles, no translation of signs and missing a third of the film. Now, back then a benshi would live narrate so there wouldn't be titles but do they have a copy of what the benshi said during the film (if anything)? I would read a synopsis before watching as it makes things clearer. The plot is hard to follow, some of it is from the POV of crazy people or the dream of the protagonist. Well worth watching but more for admiration than enjoyment.