I giorni impuri dello straniero

The script and direction meld into a strong movie. With charm and humor to spare, this film was among the top echelon of movies from 1976. The characters in this film have a lot of depth, and that makes all the difference. In the end, the audience gets a casserole of film elements and little of the satisfaction that comes from watching these types of movies. I guess if I was in a bad mood, this movie wouldn't be half as good, but I thought it to be enjoyable and would recommend it. This is a story about a place most people might not be able to conceive. It is a powerful film. Many scenes do not feel believable, but good performances help to enhance this story.

It's a compelling, morbid film most of the time - but what's up with the ending? It builds up (competently and suspensefully) to a situation that can easily be guessed right from the beginning, and then....it just stops, as if being afraid of going "too far". Perhaps the novel ends the same way, but in this movie it doesn't work - it renders the whole film pointless. The hyped-up erotic scenes are brief and too darkly photographed, but the performances are right on target. (**1/2)

The movie is indeed an adaptation of a novel by Yukio Mishima. Just to clarify, the novel is not an obscure work. Mishima is amongst Japan's most famous writers and was nominated for the Nobel Prize for Literature three times. Also, the plot of the original Japanese story does not happen in a remote fishing village; it happens in Yokohama, which is one of Japan's largest cities. Lastly, it does not happen in feudal Japan, a fact that would be very evident had someone read the book.

Now that that's been said, I've watched the movie since I very much enjoyed the novel. While I agree with most comments concerning the movie itself, I actually very much enjoyed the ending. Not only would have supplying an ending would have been taking too much liberty, but also it allows the viewer to imagine what would happen. Furthermore, to challenge another commenter, this sort of ending does work in movies and was a common motif of films during this era. Some other notable movies with endings similar to this include Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" and "Parallax View."

This movie is morbid but is quite faithful to the original story. And it uses its Dover location very effectively in showing a place isolated in its own mythology.

The story is about a fatherless adolescent boy who is himself very much like the sea. He is restless and calm and seemingly untameable. All the confusion and frustrations of adolescence are portrayed here in an honesty that no other movie has ever dared to show. The restless urge to be a grown up and to move on to a life of daring excitement, and the desire to find a philosophy and a poetry to which one can ascribe are all explored in an uncompromising way in this film.

Desperate for an authority and leadership that he can look up to, the boy finds himself vying for the acceptance of a sadistic boy with a Nietzsche complex who uses a strain of hierarchy in his little band of friends in order to maintain control. Soon Kristofferson shows up and as he seems to be the stuff of oceanic legends, the boy finds a new hero to worship.

I would not even attempt to give the ending away. Suffice it to say that this is a most disturbing film in its subject matter and for those with short attention spans, it may seem slow in its pace. But like the sea, the film is languid in its pacing and it promises the same degree of poetry and savagery.

Fascinating viewing!

An unforgettable and profoundly disturbing story centered on a widow, Anne, and her only son, Jonathan, in a remote English seaside town. Jonathan belongs to a gang led by a precociously intelligent sociopath known only as Chief, who through sheer force of will and intellect, indoctrinates them with a quasi-Neitzchean philosophy of ultimate superiority and the non-existence of morality. When Kris Kristofferson's Captain Jim arrives in town, and strikes up a passionate relationship with the lonely Anne, Jonathan sees him as a heroic masculine prototype, removed from society and living a 'true' life on the open sea. But when the Captain decides to settle down and marry Anne, Jonathan takes it as an ultimate and unforgivable betrayal, and exacts a terrible revenge.

Based on the 1963 Mishima novel, "The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea" hints at many themes, from Jonathan's Oedipal obsession with spying on his mother's bedroom to his physical admiration of the Captain that verges on latent homosexuality. The atmosphere, masterfully created by veteran cinematographer Douglas Slocombe, is one of darkly brooding clouds, gray seas, and an air that constantly threatens rain. The (in)famous sex scenes are really not that explicit, and the casual violence exhibited by the children is far more shocking than any glimpse of breast or buttock.

The film, for all its brilliantly evocative atmosphere, excellent performances, and quietly brooding menace, is not without its flaws. The score is terrible, all mawkish piano and sickly clarinet. It is often overly intrusive and distracts from the overall sense of ripe stillness that director Carlino conjures throughout the film. But in general, the film is a remarkable experience, and one that any viewer is unlikely to forget quickly.