La condizione umana: Parte II - Cammino verso l'eternità

It's been a long time since I've seen "Ningen no joken II", the second of Kibiyashi's trilogy: "The Human Condition". One scene (and you'll know it if you see the film) is one of the most visually stunning and heart wrenching in movie history. The rest of the film isn't far behind it with Tatsuya Nakadai giving a brilliant performance playing a good man caught in the monstrous jaws of history. Deeply moving.

This is the second of a three-part movie (9.5 hours in total) covering one man's experience during World War II. This part takes place in 1943 in a military training unit, and later in 1945 in Manchuria, after the Soviet Union invaded Manchuria in August 1945. Part II is three hours in length.

Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) has now been drafted in 1943 into the Japanese military. He resists veterans' harsh treatment of new recruits even though he personally excels at physical fitness and target practice. He is deeply shaken by the suicide of a recruit named Obara (Kunie Tanaka) after brutal treatment. He is allowed one brief visit with his wife, Michiko (Michiyo Aratama). Later, in early 1945, Kaji, now a private first class, becomes a trainer of new recruits, including older men in their 40s. He is still harassed and sometimes beaten by five-year veterans because he refuses to treat his men harshly and continues to believe the war is based on false values.

In August 1945, Kaji and his platoon are sent to dig trenches to anticipate the Soviet attack on Manchuria. There is much despair as the men know that Okinawa has been lost. There is an extended battle scene where Kaji's rifle company in foxholes tries to fight 15 Soviet tanks and support troops.

There is much violence in Part II, but it is not graphic. The cinematography remains striking in black and white. Kaji several times states his opposition to the Japanese war machine. He is willing to fight to protect his men and himself, though he looks appalled the first time he kills a Soviet soldier. He also considers himself a murderer when forced to kill a comrade who has gone mad.

This is the 18th in my list of movies in which pacifists are primary characters. In Part II, Kaji is not strictly a pacifist, though he remains very anti-military.

Thanks to even just a couple of his works Kobayashi Masaki had already been cemented in my mind as one of the greatest filmmakers to ever live, and upon sitting for 'The human condition' that opinion is only affirmed once again. The first film of the trilogy, 'No greater love,' was stark and sometimes almost unbearable in the difficult gravity of its narrative that so heavily impugns war and the military - but also boasted some of the best writing, direction, and acting that I've ever seen in a title that was altogether exemplary. With the same cast and crew also working on this next portion of the trilogy it's safe to say that I had high expectations, though with a runtime of three hours it may well have again been the case that the picture would take its time to progress to the next level. Sure enough, 'Road to eternity' also begins comparatively softly, but ultimately such stringent dissection is almost beside the point, for this is just as strident in its harsh judgment, if arguably more subtle. Most war films emphasize big action sequences while unthinkingly embracing chest-beating jingoism, toxic masculinity, and sycophantic glorification of the military, and only rare examples are smarter and more thoughtful in approaching the subject matter. Like an even smaller corner of the genre, though this follows in the tradition of exemplars like Abel Gance's 'J'accuse' and Stanley Kubrick's 'Paths of glory' in being unflinching in its unabashedly scorching assessment of the military. In fact, though it starts out more gently, it doesn't take long before the story becomes as ugly as in its predecessor; 'Road to eternity' tackles a slightly different subset of the topic, but is just as fierce, resulting in a feature that is both wonderfully compelling and absorbing as a viewer, but also once again not the easiest to watch. But if that doesn't speak to the power of cinema, nothing does.

Picking up where the previous movie left off, idealist Kaji has been conscripted into the Imperial Army as a recruit, and his commitment to principles of humanism and justice butt up against the turgid reality of the institution and those who breathlessly uphold it. Informed by his own experiences while working alongside Matsuyama Zenzo from Gomikawa Junpei's novel, Kobayashi sets his withering gaze on the dangerously boorish juvenility, barbarous hypermasculinity (and homophobia, and misogyny), and abusive rigidity of basic training and military units; the cold, unyielding inhumanity and self-protecting inaccountability of any military command structure; and even the reckless severity of army hospitals. All this only builds upon those themes already addressed in 'No greater love,' including the corrosive destruction that war and military culture wreak on the human spirit; if not entirely as rough, in no time the viewing experience is just as commanding. Even through all the unpleasantness the narrative is roundly captivating as Kaji's stubbornness again produces trouble, and the scene writing remains dynamic and gripping as the plot develops toward an inevitable, terrible culmination. Kobayashi's direction is unfailingly tight all the while, sustaining a buzzing electricity about the proceedings while orchestrating shots and scenes with masterful finesse. This is to say nothing of the cast, all giving superb, spirited performances befitting the grim vibes of the saga. Naturally Nakadai Tatsuya stands out most as Kaji, deftly meeting the physical and emotional demands placed on him as an actor, but co-stars including Tanaka Kunie, Sato Kei, and Fujita Susumu are to be commended just as much.

While less harried and visceral than in some comparable fare, the stunts, effects, and action sequences we see in 'Road to eternity' are no less brutal and troubling. Miyajima Yoshio's cinematography is gratifyingly sharp and vivid in capturing every detail, whether the nuances of the acting or the horrid, varied violence throughout, to say nothing of the crystal clear audio. Outstanding detail fills the production design, art direction, costume design, and hair and makeup to adjoin terrific filming locations, and the excellence of the craftsmanship somewhat stands in contrast to the nature of the material and the presentation. Kinoshita Chuji's original music seems even more prevalent to me in this title and it is a welcome, somber complement to the tale at hand. Truly, in all regards this is just as fantastic as Part I - the writing, acting, and direction just as exceptional, the storytelling just as dour and dispiriting, and the criticism of war and the military just as strong. I'm inclined to think that this portion of 'The human condition' may overall be less fully striking, yet any discrepancy is quality is negligible to the point that nitpicking is pointless. One way or another the incontrovertible fact is that this is another essential classic in Kobayashi's oeuvre, and 'Road to eternity' and the broader trilogy are stellar movies that demand viewership. Between the tenor of the story and the pictures' lengths one should be well aware of what they're getting into when sitting to watch, but if you have the opportunity to do so, it would be a sore mistake to pass these up. Kobayashi once again proves what an incredible filmmaker he was, and I can only give this my very highest and heartiest recommendation.

A three-film saga chronicling the journey of a Japanese pacifist who continues to find his morals at crossroads with his duties to his country while trying to survive the oppressive regime & imperialist ideology of World War II-era Japan, The Human Condition is a mammoth undertaking that offers an honest observation of the uphill battle it always is for anyone trying to rise above a corrupt system and makes for an epic war drama that's grand in scope & exhaustive in narration.

The second part of the trilogy, Road to Eternity finds our protagonist now conscripted into the Japanese army after losing his exemption from military service due to his actions in the last film. Proving to be an excellent marksman with strong discipline, he bears witness to the cruelty & mistreatment from army vets and then incurs their wrath after reporting their malefactions to higher officials.

Co-written & directed by Masaki Kobayashi, there is a greater sense of danger at play here in this second chapter but at its core the plot continues to be about his struggle to stay true to his core beliefs. Facing harder challenges, physical abuse & endless punishments for slightest offences, he slowly begins to understand the difference between having ideals & acting on them by setting an example.

The story is told in two parts just like the previous entry, with the first one detailing his hardship at boot camp training and next one transporting him to the frontlines. Kobayashi also sheds critical light on the hazing culture that exists in the army in addition to corruption within the ranks itself but as before, it is Tatsuya Nakadai's committed showcase that keeps things glued together and helps us invest in the drama.

Overall, The Human Condition II: Road to Eternity may lack the steadier flow of its predecessor but it ventures into darker spaces and challenges the resilience of the human spirit by pushing our character's determination to test. The issues that plagued the first film are still here and the 3-hour runtime remains bothersome but the personal growth and better sense of right & wrong that our pacifist gains makes it a worthy sit in the end.

Part II of Masaki Kobayashi's "Human Condition" follows the noble Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai), now forced into military service, as he tries to hold on to his conscience despite increasingly absurd circumstances.

If Part I was a POW drama with a love story sub-plot, influencing many that followed it, then Part II is one of the best and rawest of the original boot-camp films, planting seeds for, in particular, "Full Metal Jacket". In fact, Kaji's training with the Imperial Army makes US Boot Camp look like daycare, uninclined as director Kobayashi is to pull punches when it comes to the ritual sadism of the Japanese military, which he personally endured in real life. The film bravely confronts Kaji's attitude, an almost holier-than-thou morality than annoys bullying veterans. This forces Kaji to deeply transform as a character and as a human being, from preppy moralist to actual, worn hero, a transition Nakadai pulls off with tremendous effect and efficiency.

But back to the bigger picture. Like Kubrick's similar – and, one should point out, lesser – film of the same genre, this is two pictures in one: a boot-camp film about the dehumanization of the military, and a war film. The first two thirds are all intensive training, with bullying veterans and hapless recruits. Here Kaji faces an interesting contradiction: he rejects the war with all his heart, yet he has it in him to be a perfect warrior. There is the inevitable inept recruit pushed to the brink subplot, but it is handled with more humanity and sense of absurdity than most other similar films could dream of.

Finally, the film takes us to the front, where all the bluster and empty honor fades in front of a line of charging enemy tanks, a startlingly effective battle scene that separates the men from the boys, though not in ways they had anticipated. Kobayashi's film rejects the traditional "bridge syndrome" typical of middle installments in film trilogies, and gives us the perfect Part II: a self-contained enough story with enough substance and depth to stand on its own, while drawing from its predecessor and opening up interesting possibilities for the finale.

Roll on part III.