Zangiku monogatari

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.'

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)).

Mizoguchi's 1939 masterwork is one that sneaks up on you to where its ending is so devastating because of how Mizoguchi never gives you that tight two shot or intense close ups. You have to WATCH this film but it can bring you in unexpectedly; shots at first may appear to be languid, veering maybe towards an early Bela Tarr film. But not too soon after it begins Mizoguchi's feminist (scatch that, simply a deeply felt humanist) view of the world, that oppression from familial obligations and guilt creates the tragedy of it all.

The Kabuki and theatrical performances were the only parts I felt things lag a bit for me; I readily admit not being from Japan or understanding this anachronistic style (ironically but correctly Mizoguchi ups his pace for cutting in these scenes, there are more cuts and more reactions from the audience). I nevertheless think this is so powerful because of the purity of its story, that it is challenging the hierarchical structure of the period while coming to a conclusion in its final section where artistic triumph and tragic fate collide.

Some may actually read into Osuka that she is a "doormat", like how can she look past anything she wants all for a man who, for much of the story - a man cant live up to his own standards as an actor, or to his families demands for him to be the next BIG actor in line, so he leaves home to cut his own path, with this woman who was once his little brothers wet nurse as his lover but more importantly his booster - lacks confidence. But I found myself rooting for him and finding that he was not unsympathetic; when he does get angry and pissy at one point the feeling is not hate but one of "come on you can put it together! Do it for her if nothing else!"

There is suffering, quite so much so. But is showing the status quo, how men use women, being a critique here or simply showing it as it was/is in 1939 and before? So much of Last Chrysanthemum is painful to watch, yet in a way that I can never pull away from. A lot of it comes back to how he uses the camera and editing - take a key moment between these two people near the end and he never goes for the easy close up or two shot, we have to see this from one end of the room, but the emotion is laid bare - and that everyone in the cast knows how to play for it being about the firmness, even sanctuary nature, of the status quo.

At times melodramatic as any soap but directed with the fluidity and timing of a confident old master (Mizoguchi was 40 when he made this, and really John Ford and his long, absorbing masters and mediums are a better comparison than Tarr), this was an experience that brought me in gradually from one melancholic but realistically drawn scene after another. Certainly not something to watch to get in a "happy" mood, but then when is with this filmmaker? (still not quite so soul crushing as Sansho the Bailiff, but close).

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.