Ginrei no hate

Don't expect a cops-and-robbers film full of action here. This is a slow, pensive movie that is surprisingly touching in moments. The plot follows some hardened criminals finding their soft side, when hiding out in a mountain cottage with an old man and his good-humored grand-daughter.

The beauty of their snowy surroundings, as well as the generosity of their hosts, slowly begin to change the attitudes of our runaway bandits. But, crime does not pay, and the scenic mountains are also treacherous.

In other words, expect a poetic film that avoids moralization, but instead shows and explores. Images and sounds, including classical music (sometimes played diegetically on an old record in the hideout cottage), speak in layers, not in terms of black and white - very different from the typical gangster films of its decade.

Japanese crime dram from Toho and director Senkichi Taniguchi. A trio of bank robbers (Takashi Shimura, Toshiro Mifune, and Yoshio Kosugi) hideout in an isolated snow mountain resort town. After a close call with the cops, they end up in small hunting lodge run by mountaineer Honda (Akitake Kono), young girl Haruko (Setsuko Wakayama), and her grandfather (Kokuten Kodo). In such close quarters, the robbers nerves begin to fray, as the snow piles up higher outside and the police close in. Also featuring Fusataro Ishijima, Fumio Omachi, Taizo Fukami, and Eizaburo Sakauchi.

Featuring a screenplay by Akira Kurosawa, this frigidly atmospheric crime picture is also notable for being the film debut of Japanese screen legend Toshiro Mifune. He plays a violent hothead, a character type he'd return to several times over the next decade or more. He's very charismatic here, lean and intimidating. Takashi Shimura turns in yet another fine, understated performance. The snow-capped mountain scenery offers some fantastic location cinematography, and the mountain climbing scenes are suspenseful. Mifune and Shimura would re-team the next year in Drunken Angel, directed by Akira Kurosawa, and it would mark a turning point in all three careers and begin decades of fruitful collaboration.

For quite some while now, I have been a fan of Akira Kurasawa and Toshiro Mifune and have been getting through any films that they were involved in in any way. Having a friend who comes from Japan coming over a couple of days ago, we watched Snow Trail together(as part of the Hulu Plus Criterion collection) as we are both big film enthusiasts. And I have to say that I was very impressed, and find it a shame that it has been so neglected. It may be too short and maybe it starts off a little too slow. However, from the point where the bank robbers followed the ski tracks to the little lodge, the story even if we have seen it before is exciting and briskly paced. It looks beautiful too, the avalanche scene is very well shot as well as being tense, while the scenery is gorgeous, effectively exuding a sense of isolation and beauty also. Akira Ifukube's score is also a big part of Snow Trail's success, it has such a haunting and melancholic tone that fits the mood of the film brilliantly. Written by Akira Kurasawa himself, the script is engaging, and Senkichi Taniguchi's direction showing a certain delicacy and humanity, a style almost similar to Kurasawa's in a way. Snow Trail nowadays is known as Toshiro Mifune's first starring role, while he would later give even better performances Mifune's performance here is appropriately taut and his character's temperament really helps to elevate the tension. Setsuko Wakayama's Haruko has much charm and innocence also. Overall, obscure and worthwhile, whether you see it as part of the Hulu Plus Criterion collection or elsewhere I do recommend it, and hopefully one day it will get the recognition it deserves. 8/10 Bethany Cox

Three criminals on the run after a bank heist head for the snowy Japanese Alps and hole up in a remote mountain cabin with an elderly man, his granddaughter, and a local climber. The screenplay was co-written by Akira Kurosawa and stars two of soon-to-be famous director's regulars, Toshiro Mifune (one of his first films), and Takashi Shimura, as a young volatile crook and his older, more pensive gang leader respectively. The story is an uneven mix of harsh and maudlin but the cast is very good and the B/W mountain cinematography is excellent. The music is by Akira Ifukube (who 6 years later would write the iconic Godzilla March) and his choice of incorporating the classic 'Americana' tunes of Stephan Foster in a gritty Japanese crime melodrama seems odd but hearing the quaint tune of 'My Old Kentucky Home' while the three criminals trudge through the snow to shelter high above the tree-line is effective (but slightly surreal).

This peculiar romantic crime drama would probably be hailed as a classic if it were widely seen today, although it's not that tremendous; still, it's a deliberately unusual piece of work, and a generally neglected piece of Akira Kurosawa's filmography (as indeed are the majority of those pictures he wrote but did not direct, an alarming number of which have never even been shown outside Japan). It marks the formal debuts of Senkichi Taniguchi as director and Akira Ifukube as composer, but in the long run it's very much more a Kurosawa movie, shot through with his accustomed humanity, and full of surprises. Especially interesting is the way Takashi Shimura's criminal character develops, starting out proudly savage and then against all odds becoming a tender person, who ultimately cannot bear to kill the man who is loved by the woman HE'S in love with ... because he can't stand the idea of hurting her. Toshiro Mifune's character, by contrast, seems redeemable at the start but grows increasingly evil -- not at all what the filmmakers suggested at the start, and not at all expected. The film also boasts an astonishingly restrained performance by Yoshio Kosugi, who rarely met a piece of scenery he didn't like to gnaw upon, but who is remarkable here. Setsuko Wakayama and Kokuten Kodo are also superb; this is probably one of the only pictures that gave Wakayama a chance to shine, as for whatever reason she never became a major star in Japan.

The snowbound location photography is excellent (much of the picture was drawn upon director Senkichi Taniguchi's own considerable experience as a mountain climber), and while Akira Ifukube's score is almost too energetic for its own good -- he clearly thought that his first time out he ought to be scoring every different scene with a separate leitmotif, and GODZILLA fans might be amazed to hear his first version of the famous "underwater ballet" music from that original 1954 film already in here (more conservative viewers who avoid monster movies might have also happened to hear the identical music in THE BURMESE HARP) -- Ifukube underlines the drama beautifully, and in the lengthy sequences that are without dialogue, he tells us most eloquently what the characters are feeling. When the elegy kicks in under Shimura's reappearance over the cliff, it's a heartbreaker. And yet there's hardly any music at all in the first hour, unusual for a film of any type at the time.

It's not quite a masterpiece, but THE END OF THE SILVER MOUNTAINS is essential viewing for anyone who cares about Kurosawa, Mifune, Shimura, Ifukube, or indeed everyone who worked on this movie, and very clearly cared about it a lot.