La cerimonia

The Ceremony (1971), directed by Nagisa Ôshima, is a gripping and unsettling exploration of family dynamics, tradition, and the weight of unresolved secrets. The film follows a man who, after receiving a shocking telegram from his cousin, begins to recount his childhood and early life within a family filled with hidden histories. As he reflects, the viewer is slowly introduced to the dark, unsettling rituals and ceremonies that shape the family's interactions, revealing the deep psychological and emotional scars that have been passed down through generations.

Ôshima's direction is both meticulous and daring, using the family ceremonies as a metaphor for the societal structures that confine and suffocate its members. The pacing is deliberate, with long, drawn-out scenes that mirror the suffocating nature of the family's secrets. The film's cinematography is stark and calculated, using a minimalist aesthetic that highlights the emotional and psychological intensity of the narrative. The use of silence and quiet moments adds to the tension, allowing the viewer to feel the weight of the unspoken words and hidden truths.

Kenzô Kawarasaki, Atsuko Kaku, and Atsuo Nakamura deliver compelling performances that capture the complex dynamics of the family. The film's central character is torn between loyalty to his family and the realization that their traditions are built on lies and repression. His journey is one of self-discovery, as he comes to terms with the unsettling truths about his past and the cost of maintaining family unity.

The Ceremony is a film that demands careful attention, as its layered narrative and dense symbolism require deep engagement. The slow, almost ritualistic pacing of the film allows for a gradual buildup of tension, culminating in a haunting exploration of the destructive power of family secrets and the rituals that bind individuals to their past.

With its sharp critique of tradition, psychological complexity, and powerful performances, The Ceremony stands as one of Ôshima's most remarkable works. It's a deeply affecting film that resonates long after it ends, leaving viewers to reflect on the nature of family, identity, and the weight of the past.

Rating: 10/10. A masterful exploration of family, tradition, and psychological complexity, with haunting performances and a profound narrative.

This film can be hard to watch for some. The family is very dysfunctional and the head of the family will make some people cringe.

As an American born in the 1980s, I do not know what the world was like after World War II. I especially don't know what the world was like for foreign countries after World War II especially those on the opposite side of America. A movie like this, although fiction, can give a sense of the struggles a nation might face, changing after World War II.

I thought the acting was well done. I'll admit I don't recognize any of the actors from other movies and I watched the movie with subtitles, but I could not stop watching this movie until the end.

It's a mystery to me why Oshima, and especially his movie Ceremony ( although my personal favourite is Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence) doesn't get the recognition he deserves, among the greatest directors. Possibly because, apart for the famous In the realm of the senses, very few have watched his films. Ceremony, in my opinion, is his best film. It is extraordinary how he constructs the narration of this family saga, and how he makes it resonate with thoughts and feelings in every minute of it, putting in shame all of the more applauded asian family stories that became famous movies over the kast decades. But he also surpasses many acclaimed European directors of his time. Ceremony is an undisputed masterpiece that you watch shivering , a proof that cinema can be made out of pure magic!

A boy experiences traumas during WWII (which we don't see), and the subsequent 25 years of his life are a continuation of those traumas. Oshima skillfully depicts Japan's post-war evolution, and the ways the dark secrets of the past live on within the present. Gishiki is by no means an enjoyable film: the main character experiences nothing but losses, misfortunes, and humiliations. But this is a dark truth of life: anyone who lives long enough accumulates losses and failures, and for some, perhaps everything else is overtaken. In the end, the main character is left alone with nothing except his lost dreams and his endlessly repeating traumas. A very sad film, but one I'm glad to have seen.

I have seen this film in the late eighties, together with other Oshima's movies and I could collect only a vague impression of exoticism. This before I visited Japan, where I currently live.

I have seen it again last night and I can confirm that "Gishiki" portrays some of the most specific aspects of the Japanese culture. It is a movie deeply ingrained with the rebellion against traditional culture and family, which is typical of the late sixties-early seventies, not only in Japan, but also in Europe. The same can be said of the use of sexuality as a powerful device to offset the established values.

The powerful Sakurada clan is brought to ruin by the same force that keeps it together, the powerful grandfather. This happens in a sequence of rigidly choreographed family reunions, in occasions of funerals and weddings spanning several years following the end of the world. In this sense the world of the Sakuradas is so traditional that many scenes could be set in medieval Japan, with minor modifications in the dialogs and costumes. Ritual suicides and uncompassioned sex are recurring estranging events which follow and precede these ceremonies.

At the end what has been taken away from the protagonist is his very childhood, and hence his possibility to exist as a human being.