Bangiku

A look at three geishas who are way past their prime. Now they look back on their pasts with fondness and bemoan their present. Kin (played by Floating Weeds' Haruko Sugimura) has sworn off men and has made a good living as a moneylender; everyone on the block owes her. The other two, Nobu and Tamae, wish they could land husbands, but are not foolish enough to believe they ever will. Meanwhile, their children - one has a son and one a daughter - are both about to get married (not to each other). Tamae is irked at how much prettier her daughter has become than her, and bitterly tries to convince her not to marry the man. Nobu's concerns about her son are more legitimate in nature, but they are also (understandably) self-serving. After her son leaves, she'll be alone. A bit into the film, two of Kin's former clients come looking for her, one a man so obsessed with her that he tried to get her to commit double suicide with him, the other one of her handsomest clients. Unfortunately, he comes for her money, not her love. The way I've described the film makes it sound unrelentingly depressing, but it's really not. Sad, but not fatally so. It's more bittersweet. Unfortunately, I only marginally liked Late Chrysanthemums. The story seems better when I look back on it, but it is very slow and dull. I actually nodded off twice during the film, and I wasn't at all tired before I started it. This is the kind of film that I can appreciate more than like; it reminds me very much of my reaction to a couple of Ozu's more famous films. 7/10.

Naruse is typically considered one of the 3 master founders of Japanese film, the other two being Ozu and Mizoguchi. This is an interesting and honest film on the lives of retired Geishas. Whatever happens, when such a woman ages, and loses her charm and mystique? Well, for those who are interested, watch this film. One: Okin, is successful as a money-lender, but the other two have to borrow from her and are resentful. Okin doesn't have any children, but the other do. Okin finds out that her old love is coming to visit her, and is excited. Naruse is a master in subtle studies of his female protagonists' characters. Bangiku ultimately draws the viewer into the study of the questions of ones happiness, and one's life-worth. Very good film indeed.

Unlike those of his contemporaries, Mizoguchi, Ozu and Kurosawa, the films of Mikio Naruse are mostly unknown in the West and yet they are just as relevant and just as powerful. The "Late Chrysantehmums" of this extraordinary film are four ageing former geisha's with money problems and this is one of the most insightful of films dealing with the role of women in post-war Japanese society and not just the women at the centre who once sold their bodies but who now have nothing to barter but also the daughter of one of them who is prepared to marry an older man for financial security. Money is at the basis of everything that happens in the film and it taints the lives of all the characters. It is superbly played, particularly by those great Japanese actresses Haruko Sugimura as the moneylender Okin and Chikako Hosokawa as the drunken Otamae. Like Naruse, these two actresses never really 'crossed over' to the West and yet their work in Japanese cinema is as fine as any to have graced international cinema while this is a film on a subject that, in hindsight, would never have been tackled in Western cinema at this time. Of course that, in itself, does not make it a masterpiece but a masterpiece it is, nevertheless. It is one of the greatest of all films on the disappointments that life throws at us.

It's a movie about retired geishas. Some, like Haruko Sugimura, have saved their money, have no children, and are enjoying -- if that's the word -- a second career as a moneylender and real estate speculator. Some, like Yûko Mochizuki have not. None of them seem particularly happy.

Mikio Naruse has avoided his usual tale of women falling victim to changes in Japan. Instead, he and his frequent director of photography, Masao Tamai, have adopted a scheme of blocking for this movie that is far flashier, less standard for its era, than their usual collaborations. Miss Sugimura's house is all shoji and framing panels. Where she controls the geometry, she controls the situation. Even in her other scenes, she is still in similar geometry, and still in charge. It's only in the final scene,in open space that she stumbles. The other women manage all right. There seems to be a clear message that they can choose to hide where it is safe, or face up to the world.

It's an unusually optimistic viewpoint for Naruse, but not, of course, without its pitfalls. The world is still out there. Predatory men are still out there. Sometimes, however, you need to laugh at it anyway. It won't make a difference, but it will make you feel better.

For me, "Late Chrysanthemums" was interesting not only because it was my first film of Naruse I completely enjoyed, but because it was technically as modern and innovative as his 30s work I've seen. This doesn't mean innovative editing in the way Godard would introduce it with "Breathless" in 1959, but quite the opposite.

The editing was as fluent as in the best of Hollywood films from the 30s/40s, but at the same time incredibly fitting regarding the way he was telling his story. Unlike them, it never purposefully accentuated anything or tried to make itself "invisible" but, together with the cinematography, made me feel like I was traveling on a gentle stream, constantly feeling the waves beneath me, like a gentle stroke of the hand or the almost unnoticeable rocking of a cradle. In this sense the film was comparable to Ozu's and Mizoguchi's work, but somehow even more subtle.

What was so modern was the fact that the editing seemed almost a character in itself, similar to the remarkable camera-work in Dreyer's Ordet (1954) or Vredens dag (1943) which is revealing us a deeper understanding of the film and its characters rather than simply showing them to us.

I feel that Naruse's editing and cinematography are the most interesting aspects of his films, elevating the stories significance beyond the obvious. The wonderful sets and settings shouldn't be forgotten either! I found the story itself to be rather conventional.

The narrative and its characters were introduced in a very interesting way, and I thought that the first half of the film was setting up a delicately ingenious spectrum of emotions and interrelations. Unfortunately the second half of the film and its resolution were rather didactic and and formulaic compared to the set up (though by itself it would have been perfectly fitting in any other - less complex - film). Somehow I felt that he failed a bit in trying to dissolve the many layers he had woven. Maybe he should have kept them intact. This criticism might seem a bit harsh to a viewer of this film, especially since the procedure is again reminiscent to the way Ozu dealt with the plot in his films. Unfortunately I haven't yet the feeling that Naruse was able to elevate the story and its characters in his films' conclusions in a similarly sublime fashion. The best efforts I have seen to date - Ukigumo (Floating Clouds / 1955) and Midaregumo (Scattered Clouds / 1967) - sustained the energy he had built throughout the narrative, while delivering poignant and resonant endings.

This is already more than most director's are able to do, and in my opinion the basis for a real mastery of the cinematic medium. In this regard, and considering the resonance of the last two films I've seen by him, he may have already become one of my favorites.

The only problem I have at the moment, is where I'm going to see more of his films on the big screen.