Zangiku monogatari

Kiku (Shotaro Hanayagi), a proud but mediocre kabuki actor from a prominent theatre family is feted to his face but mocked behind his back. The only honest criticism comes from Otoku (Kakuko Mori), a young servant woman but when Kiku falls in love with her, he is rejected by his adopted father and, to prove himself (and the value of Otoku's support), he decides to establish a reputation as an actor independently of his family's influence. The trope of 'defiant love between classes' is culturally universal (and well-trodden) and Kenji Mizoguchi's theatre-melodrama doesn't add much new (other than, to my eyes, the kabuki venue). Otoku is young, sincere and vulnerable but, as the story progresses, not much is done to develop her character beyond 'long-suffering loyalty'. Kiku is a bit more volatile but the resolution to the young couple's travails comes off as overly convenient and the story's conclusion borders on the maudlin. The film is lauded for Mizoguchi's direction and the striking cinematography, especially the long-takes and 'dolly shots' and, despite my reservations about the plot and characters (which likely reflect my 'Western' perspective 85 years after its release), I found it eminently watchable (albeit a bit slow-going). Needful viewing for anyone interested in early Japanese cinema or in Mizoguchi's oeuvre (but not in the same league (IMO) as his post-WW2 works such as 'Ugetsu' (1953) or 'Sansho the Bailiff' (1954)).

The cinema of Kenji Mizoguchi certainly has its share of uninhibited feminism, but it also has its adequate share of realism. He has portrayed Japanese women, their roles and plight in traditional and orthodox Japanese society in variously diverse ways. But he never shied away from making the viewer confront the tough facts and compromise the reality of female oppression, just for the sake of happy endings. His female characters do suffer. The character of Otoku in 'The Story of the Last Chrysanthemum' is an angelic woman who pretty much sacrifices everything for her lover and in the end gets nothing in return. This constant suffering of Otoku has actually made a number reviewers criticise the film and question its agenda. But I disagree with the detractors of the film because for me, the suffering of Otoku in spite of being selfless to a fault represents Mizoguchi's criticism of society as a whole, criticism of a society which oppresses women and enslaves them. A woman can be angelic and downright subservient like Otoku, or she can be abrasive and self-serving like Ayako in 'Osaka Elegy', the patriarchal Japanese society in the end will crush her.

The camera is incredibly fluid and the movement are at times very symmetrical with a pattern to them. This symmetry of camera movement within the same scene or separate scenes reminded me of the films and camera movements of Max Ophüls. Although the blu ray print isn't that great in comparison to restored prints of other films of the same era, one can't help but notice the incredible attention to detail when it comes to the sets and how Mizoguchi uses them with his camera. There is a very noticeable reluctance to use close-up shots, which is interesting. But for the most remarkable aspect of the film in terms of visual technique is the reliance on numerous extended unbroken, long takes which are just incredibly executed and choreographed. Mizoguchi's use of space within a particular frame is genuinely incredible.

The romance between Kikunosuke and Otoku is given a layered and complex treatment by Mizoguchi. Their relationship persists for numerous years and we see the gradual changes in their relationship dynamics. Mizoguchi ornaments the film with beautiful singular moments of humanism and emotions which is scattered throughout the film. Moments like Otoku folding Kikunosuke's jacket without being asked to, Kikunosuke's brother not recognising him, Otoku sitting alone in her room in the dark,etc. are moments that will touch the heart of every sensitive viewer.

I don't think 'The Story of the Last Chrysanthemum' is a perfect film. There are aspects to the film that are a bit too simplistic and a few scenes are stretched out a bit too long for my liking. But having said that, I still consider it to be a special film. One can't help but admire the technical brilliance on show. Mizoguchi's direction is sensitive, subtle and yet complicated in the way he composes his shots and uses his sets. The film has a feminist agenda with its heart in the right place made by one of the masters of world cinema which makes it an easy recommendation.

No one could hold a static shot longer than Japanese director Kenji Mizoguchi-and be highly praised for it. In what is regarded as his pre-World War Two masterpiece, Mizoguchi's October 1939 "The Last of the Chrysanthemums," the 140-minute movie contains half the shots of what a normal Hollywood film has, giving credence to his moniker, the "one scene-one long shot" director. Mizoguchi avoided close-ups, preferring his camera to be like a fly on the wall, observing at a distance the drama unfolding in front. He spiced this with an occasional dolly move from one room to another.

Film reviewer James Berardinelli observed, "Opting for long, unbroken takes from mid-range (there are no close-up), the director relied on dollies and cranes to all the camera to move seamlessly from one location to another. Although this approach creates a distance between the viewer and the characters and makes us more like voters than participants, it does nothing to diminish the story's emotional impact."

During one crucial sequence where Kikunosuke Onoe, aka Kiku (Shotaro Hanayagi in his movie debut), the adopted son of popular kabuki actor Kikugoro Onoue (Gonjuro Kawarazaki), leaves his family, Mizoguchi sustains a single nine-minute shot moving from one room to the other to capture the anger of his father. At the same time he shows Kiku's mother emoting how sad she is on her son's departure. The sequence, notes film critic John Pym, is a great example of Mizoguchi's use of a sparse interior "offset by shots of notably uncluttered spaces," featuring his static shots "crammed with human detail."

Mizoguchi's film, based on a short story by Shofu Muramatsu, opens with Kiku stinking up the joint acting in onnagata dramas, where he plays female roles just like his father. Everyone is afraid to tell Kiku his acting is bad, except for Otoku (Kakuko Mori), a nurse in his father's household. She's fired from her job for being too close to Kiku, who wants to marry her. After Kiku leaves his parents, he sticks to acting, spending many years with Otoku, who becomes his common law wife. Because his level of acting pays so little, he experiences dire poverty for the sake of honing his craft. Finally, his performances are much improved, but he needs help from his father to get the opportunities to prove he's a much greater talent than he was previously. The elder Onoue agrees, with one stipulation: he breaks from Otoku. This sets up one of the saddest endings in Japanese cinema, according to several critics.

Mizoguchi's films emphasize women's plight in Japanese society, both historically and in contemporary times. "The Last of the Chrysanthemums" harkens back to the late 1800's in Tokyo and Osaka. "With more said by showing less, operatic heartbreak and sentimentality and anger are pictured in formal precision, not a moment or scene or actor out of place," writes film critic Donald Levit.

"The Last of the Chrysanthemums" was ranked by BBC critics as the 88th best non-English film in the history of cinema, while the British Film Institute selected it as one of the top ten best films ever made. Mizoguchi, who is largely known for his later works such as 1953's "Ugetsu" and 1954 "Sansho the Baliff," has this 1939 motion picture included in '1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die.'

I wish I spoke fluent Japanese--then I am sure I could have enjoyed the movie so much more. That's because this movie had horrible subtitles and often sentences or more were simply left untranslated or 50 words in Japanese were distilled down to only 3 or 4 words. In essence, the translators were very lazy and did a terrible job. Some might not mind this, but since I am a very avid fan of Japanese films it seriously detracted from the experience. This does NOT mean it is unwatchable or you should avoid it. In fact, if anyone knows of a better version available to Western audiences, let me know.

The plot itself seems very familiar and is reminiscent of some other films, as its main ideas are respect for your elders and unrequited love. The main character is madly in love with his step-brother's nursemaid and the family strongly opposes it. I don't really think I need to divulge more but felt that the actors did a fine job and the story itself was interesting.

UPDATE: There is a new DVD version from Criterion and I assume it's much better than the DVD I saw. Criterion always seems to do good jobs with subtitles on their film releases.

Along with "Sisters of the Gion"(1936) and "Osaka Elegy"(1936), "Zangiku monogatari" is a strong candidate for Kenji Mizoguchi's finest pre-war film. It is one of the greatest and most beautiful films I have ever seen - a profoundly sublime, heartbreaking love story between a Kabuki actor(Shotaro Hanayagi) and working class servant (Kakuko Mori) who makes sacrifices to herself to ensure his theatrical success. The film, filled with dazzling long takes and rich Sternbergian compositions, centers on Mizoguchi's characteristic theme: the shallowness of men and the generosity of women. Rarely has a Mizoguchi film seem at once so sublime and devastating in its impact. The final sequence alone is among the finest in all of cinema.

My favorite Mizoguchi remains "The Life of Oharu"(1952); "Zangiku monogatari" is not very far behind.