Shunpu den

Based on a novel written by Tamura Taijiro, and is actually a remake of 1950 Toho film Escape at Dawn directed by Taniguchi Senkichi with stars Ikebe Ryo and Shirley Yamaguchi, director Suzuki Seijun transformed a Nikkatsu ready-made routine script with low budget and tight schedule into one of his finest arts. Without digressing from the script or the novel, he recreated his signature world that is abstractive and ideological. Even though this is a B-movie, or maybe because it is, Suzuki with the production designer Kimura Takeo displays fantastic backdrops using some painstaking techniques of visual effects, superb studio sets and location filming behind outstanding performances acted by Kawaji Tamio, Nogawa Yumiko and Tamagawa Isawo. Compare to the Escape that has altered some elements from the Tamura's original this Suzuki version is essentially true to it, therefore Suzuki version has quite important elements such as the prostitution in the Army, multiple stratum of knotty personae and complicated layers of grotesque psychological characterizations concomitant to their bizarre relationships all of that are omitted in the Taniguchi's "fine literary effort." Along with his sense of unique humor these deep feelings the film radiates might be inspired from his own war experiences as a soldier during the WW II and it could be said that, in this regard, some similarity might be in Samuel Fuller's, many of these films are also deeply affected by Fuller's own war experiences.

"Why did they only bring back the machine gun, leaving him there?" "Because the machine gun is the Emperor's property."

What starts as a "story of a prostitute," one steeped in troubling historical revisionism and bits of fantasy, eventually transforms into a critique of the Japanese army's code of honor during WWII, a brilliant little Trojan horse of a maneuver from Seijun Suzuki. He also shows a real flair with quick editing and simple video effects, the sound design is haunting and practically channels the collective national guilt from these years, and Yumiko Nogawa delivers an absolute powerhouse of a performance. She plays a prostitute at an army camp out on the barren landscape in China, one who a high-ranking Adjutant takes a liking to in his brutal way, and who in turn falls for his aide.

The depiction of the use of "comfort women" by the Japanese army is far from enlightened, which is off-putting to say the least early on. The elephant in the room of course is that here they are almost all Japanese and present voluntarily, not women across other Asian countries forced into sexual slavery, as hundreds of thousands were. We see one prostitute who we can infer is Chinese, but her only hardship is that she's usually paid less than the others. I was on edge and all set to rip this film to shreds because of this (and could certainly understand why someone else might still go ahead and do that), despite it being a very touchy subject to this day in Japan, much less in 1965, probably making it hard to do more as a filmmaker.

Don't expect realism in how the prostitution itself is depicted either. Early on we hear soldiers yukking it up over 13 prostitutes serving the sexual needs of an entire battalion, and know it's going to be a bumpy ride. The prostitutes are all looking to get married, with the main character saying "I want to meet many different men." The Adjutant, despite being a complete brute, is apparently good in bed, as we see her look of rapture mixed with guilt as he goes down on her, and another prostitute testifies to his sexual prowess. Talk about male fantasy. Meanwhile when she gets round to seducing the aide, her eyes are full of adoration after their first time together, which is a contrasting fantasy, to make a woman's heart feel so strongly.

Despite all that, where the film then goes with the story is a critique of militarism and the rigid honor code of the day. It highlights the ridiculous unfairness of the soldier's code of conduct that expected death before capture, and barring that, suicide, and barring that, a court-martial and execution (if they escape, that is). It's a fantastic moment when a few soldiers refuse to shoot another in this predicament, amidst the outset of an enemy attack and the swirling winds. The inversion in the observation from one of the prostitutes that "Living is difficult, dying is cowardly" is too. Through the intellectual character Uno, a guy who just wants to read his philosophy books, the film also criticizes both the invasion of "vast" China to begin with, as well as a country that would prohibit its citizens from freedom of thought ("To the country that doesn't allow an Ideal, farewell").

Suzuki isn't overly showy with his effects, but this film has quite a lot of style, something I liked about it. We see moments of character's imagining things, like when the main character fantasizes someone walking in on her and the aide and having his body fracture apart like a torn photograph. He gives us slow motion effects to intensify feeling, and that fantastic dash out onto the battlefield that leads to moments where all the sound stops.

If for nothing else though, watch this for Nogawa's passionate performance. It's crazy to think she doesn't have a deeper filmography after seeing this. She shows incredible range, with her fierce eyes expressing such defiance in that scene where she vows "You watch. I'll make your power go to shreds." The look of vulnerability she gives over her shoulder in front of a mirror after the Adjutant has followed informing her of devastating news with a demand that she bring him sake is also brilliant, and there are many others.

Probably a controversial film, but I ended up liking it.

Most likely the closest Suzuki ever got to making a prestige film. It probably wasn't viewed as such at the time, as it was a remake of a movie called Escape at Dawn that was generally considered a classic at the time (it was scripted by Akira Kurosawa and directed by Senkichi Taniguchi in 1950). Story of a Prostitute seemed like a much more lurid version of the older film. Both were anti-war pictures, but Escape at Dawn was romantic and tragic. Story of a Prostitute is harsh and cynical. Its scenes are often comic, which clashes with the standard view of war. In an interview on the new Criterion disc, Suzuki, a veteran himself, says that he found a lot of black humor and absurdity in his wartime experience. All three of WWII-themed films I've seen from him, which cover the pre-war (Fighting Elegy), the actual war (Story of a Prostitute), and post-war (Gate of Flesh) periods all incorporate some level of absurd, black comedy. The three films actually make a good trilogy (the rest I've seen are all yakuza or crime films). Story of a Prostitute is a very powerful anti-war film, though it is lurid and not nearly as powerful as something like, say, Kobayashi's The Human Condition. Yumiko Nogawa, who also starred in Gate of Flesh, gives a fantastic performance. But it is, as usual, Suzuki's supreme visual skills – in black and white in this instance – that make the film a stunning and memorable experience. His artistic imagination in cinematographic matters is nearly unsurpassed in the entire realm of cinema.

This film centers on Harumi (the great Yumiko Nogawa), who is a "comfort woman" who goes to the Manchurian Front in China during the war to service the men fighting there. From the beginning you know she has nothing left to lose. As you would expect, this movie has scenes which are pretty brutal, including violence and rape. However, Mr. Suzuki makes this film's pacing so superb, you can look beyond this and just keep watching to see what will happen next. Harumi's reactions and expressions in this film are amazing, Ms. Nogawa gives a performance of a lifetime. You understand her struggle, but more so you understand her heart. She falls in love and you know its no lie. You want her to have some measure of happiness in what is depicted here as a very cruel world. Not everyone can watch this of course, its violent and its a war picture. But this film had me spellbound to the last frame, and that is a ringing endorsement.

Reviews of a Seijun Suzuki film tend to be dominated by discourse on the director's much-vaunted iconoclastic stylistics and Nikkatsu failure of vision in their treatment of him. While Suzuki's arrhythmic editing, bold use of effects, slow-motion, and emotive performances differentiate the film from the generic fare of the time, there is as much miss as hit regarding enhancement of narrative in Suzuki's helming.

Story of a Prostitute is about Harumi, a working girl cruelly dumped by her lover who takes vengeance by throwing herself into the grueling world of the so-called 'comfort women' servicing the Imperial Army in China. There she meets Mikami, an unreformed nationalist, and their ill-fated love plays out against a backdrop of WWII endgame.

Harumi is certainly a force, and her power, drive extremes of agony and ecstasy give her a powerful on-screen presence. She wails, uncontrollably, in close-up, a slow-motion shot no less, and the raw anguish is viscerally present. The fact that the situation she and Mikami find themselves in is hopeless drains the film of dramatic tension. The compensation is keenly observed characters who comment on their situation without finger-wagging. The absurdity of Japan's war effort is best captured by Ono, a deserter who takes up with the Chinese and preaches the 'dishonorable' credo that it is better to live. Officers spout that it is more dignified to die in battle for the Emperor, the irony being these are words spoken while sprawled drunk on the floor of a brothel. A Chinese prostitute whines that she is paid less than her Japanese counterparts. Soldiers drink, fornicate and hope they can make it to the next day. The landscape is almost lunar, begging the question of what, exactly, they are fighting for possession of.

The futility of war is an expertly painted background, but overshadowed by the melodramas of lives lived. Without Suzuki's unconventional approach this film would be quickly forgotten, but the camera movement, stark sets revealed in deep focus, and humanity and absurdity of the minor characters keeps this film fresh. Harumi is the embodiment of the will to live, if not exactly to live well. Having said that, the histrionics begin to grate after a while, and a stronger plot would raise this film to greater heights.

Neither a B-film nor a masterpiece, but simply another watchable outing from a unique filmmaker.