Não Deixarei os Mortos (A Harpa Birmana)

Towards the end of WWII, a group of Japanese soldiers struggle through the chaos of national disintegration, trying to reach the border through the Burmese jungle. Their Captain is musically trained and forms them into an ad hoc male choir in order to maintain morale. Foot soldier Mizushima plays the titular instrument and as such become a talismanic figure in the group. When he later disappears and suffers an existential crisis, his fate comes to obsess the group as a whole.

Ichikawa's iconic piece contains a strong anti-war theme that survives beyond its 1945 setting. Mizushima's troop are timeless, soldiers dreaming of homes, wives, town festivals; clinging to nostalgia to guide them home and fighting on for each other rather than any greater cause inspired by the imagined national community. Much more identifiable with the period are the troop holding out against the British even after national surrender, fanatics looking to die for an Emperor who has forsaken them rather than return to their families and rebuilding of the community. Among these men, there are no songs.

Mizushima's conversion from soldier-musician to selfless monk symbolises a state of reflection that follows all armed conflict. The film has been criticised for failing to confront the barbarism of the Imperial army, but this lack of identification with specific national failings is what gives the film a theme that transgresses to other cultures, conflicts and evils - the coming to terms with a life to be lived in the aftermath of horror. The flaws on the Yamato spirit may not be interrogated, but the atrocities of war are present, most visibly in Mizushima's encounter with the rotting flesh of fallen comrades being picked over by scavenger birds.

The framing is impeccable, and those looking for a quintessential Japanese aesthetic will be surprised by the extensive use of closeups. The music is spare and suitably evocative of military camaraderie and frightened young men coping far from home. Mizushima's journey is both symbolic and highly plausible, as is the reaction of his brothers-in-arms. Great cinema in its own right, and at the very top of the tree in anti-war movies.

Very poignant anti-war statement, supported with passionate music and photography. A Japanese POW at the end of the war is separated from his comrades when he tries to coax some hold-outs to surrender. After disastrous results, he disguises as a Buddhist monk and is considered dead, wandering the countryside and continually confronted with the truly dead. His friends suspect he has survived and are disconsolate unless reunited with him. But before he can rejoin them, his journey gradually and painfully transforms him. He has a new mission and a new identity, his spiritual garb no longer a mere disguise.

Living in Thailand at the age of 10, I saw this movie broadcast on TV. Thirty years later I still think of it. And eventually I became a dharma student. Coincidence? I think not! Such is the awesome impact of this movie. More than an important anti-war film, it can really bring out some seldom expressed feelings - not because of carefully crafted scenarios which bring moral indignation against war, confusion or cruelty, but instead showing a more natural horror of war's results. After watching the film for the third time, I still feel a deep visceral pang when Mizushima covers his face and runs past yet another mountain of rotting bodies he finds on the shores of the river.

What's really sad is that you can't get the movie on DVD!

Putting history and politics aside, I found this film confronted some very human emotions involving war. No matter if this were a Japanese company of soldiers, or a British company, most war movies don't touch on ideas like you'll find here. The film follows a company of Japanese soldiers, with little or no supplies, attempting to reach the border of Thailand. The men enjoy singing wherever they go, and are quite proud of their abilities. It makes them think of their loved ones back home and gives them a sense of unity and hope. One of the men, Mizushima, plays the harp with natural talent, as he had never studied music before joining the army. There is a great scene where the Japanese see the British troops hiding in the forest, so they start to sing, tricking the British into thinking they are oblivious to them. When the British then start singing back, and both sides are singing together, it is a scene of great joy and unity between all humans. Somehow it isn't even cheesy.though it seems it could be, the way I'm writing this review. The British notify the Japanese men that the war ended three days earlier, when Japan surrendered. They are placed in a P.O.W. camp until it is possible to send them all home. The commander of the Japanese men attempts to fill his men's hearts with hope and pride, telling them that together they will rebuild Japan. They are told that nearby, a company of Japanese troops is in an ongoing skirmish with the British, unreachable and unaware of the war's end. Mizushima, is given permission to go and try to explain that Japan has surrendered, promising his company that he'll catch up in Mudon. This turns out to be a not very easy job, as the commanding officer is into the whole `I'm not giving up until I die,' philosophy. Getting nowhere, Mizushima questions their logic to try and persuade them their lives are worth saving, as Japan needs to be rebuilt. The British only agreed to a 30 minute cease fire, and when that time is up, all the Japanese men are killed. Only Mizushima crawls out alive and is found by a Buddhist monk. While he is taken care of by the monk, his company is sad and anxious for his return. Once healed, his intention is to walk to Mudon and surprise all the men, so he sets out in Buddhist costume across Burma. On his way he encounters many heaps and piles of rotting dead Japanese soldiers, and he feels it important to give them a proper burial.

These scenes are when Mizushima fully realizes the extent of what war is all about. It's not about pride and hope, it's about putting your life on the line. He is accepted by the Buddhist church and decides to stay and live a simple life, honoring the dead through prayer and burial. His men try to persuade him using a talking parrot switcheroo, teaching a parrot to say `come home to Japan, Mizushima' and giving it to him. He, in reply, sends back his parrot, which he taught to say `no, I am staying here.' It is a pacifist sentiment throughout, a great film covering the human emotional perspective on war in a unique way.

`I cannot leave the bones lying scattered on the hills.'

More melodramatic than his harrowing Fires On The Plain, Kon Ichikawa's The Burmese Harp is still an excellent film and a fascinating glimpse at another perspective of the 2nd World War than the usual (myopic and infantile) Hollywood triumphalism. As with many Japanese films from this period, from Kurosawa to Godzilla, it has an elegiac and reflective quality to it born of the shock and disillusionment that followed the war.

I personally was a little uncomfortable with the first 20 minutes of the film that were a little hokey with the singing platoon trying to slip through the forests of Burma to the Thai frontier. However, the film really begins to become compelling and very poetic with the character Mizushima's mission to Triangle Mountain and his voyage south to Mudon to rejoin his unit now in prison camp. Undergoing a symbolic `death' and injured, he is nursed by a priest, but steals the priest's garb as a disguise. However, on the way he passes great numbers of Japanese and is horrified by what he sees. When he arrives at his destination and is staying at a monastery, one monk comments, `You seem to have come through such severe hard training.' He cannot return to his unit. He is determined to bury the dead, to extend empathy to each of them and to pray for their souls. The physical journey is symbolic of a physiological and spiritual journey and is some very creative and effective storytelling. There is much more to the movie, plot wise and thematically, than this, but this is what impressed me most.

The imagery is incredible whether it is raindrops collecting and then running along barbed wire, dripping off; or the mud along the riverbanks; or the scene of Mizushima burying corpses at the river, a few villagers standing behind, watching; or the priest bathing in the river; or the shot of Mizushima disappearing into the mist. There is one moment in the prison camp which occurs during a rainstorm. I was really impressed with the natural lighting which gave me the sense of being there. I have looked out windows on days like that as those characters are and the experience "feels like that scene looks". It is incredible how evocative the Japanese films of the period were.

The film reminded me of Stone's Platoon with similar music, symbolism, characters, and melodrama. It also seems to have affinities with Apocalypse Now, in that the central concern is not action or tension (though they do not lack these qualities) but potent ideas and a sense of mystery. Both Apocalypse and Harp involve `pilgrimages' and characters transformed by the horror of the situation. They both involve characters unable to return home after this evolution. I do not know if either of these films was influenced by The Burmese Harp, but if they were they modeled on an excellent and moving predecessor.

Akira Ifukube's score is classic and will probably sound somewhat familiar to the viewer. He has scored nearly 260 films, including films in the popular Zatoichi series and many of Toho's sci-fi films.