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Hello, my name's Jacob. I'm a 21 year old guy, from Israel, forced to join the army at the age of 18 as nearly all people of my country have to, forced to waste 3 years of my life doing things I'd never want to do if only I was allowed to choose. I'm not a great movie buff. I'm a simple person, and I'd rather play a video game to kill time, but I do like action and war films which is how I got to see "The human condition" on some list here on IMDb. Sounded interesting, and so I decided to watch the 3 films. So this is a review about all 3...

The films accurately demonstrates, maybe to the extreme, what it is to be a peace-loving, good human being, in a place where fascism and cruelty reigns supreme. Some people may say that Kaji's character is too unbelievable. Too saint-like, to the point where it becomes frustrating. I say it's not true- It's a movie, not real life. Kaji's behaviour might not be realistic, he faces humanity's worst traits with his own altruist ideals of pacifism and equality, as if he's some sort of WW2 superhero. Saying one cannot identify with him is wrong, however, in my humble opinion, because even if maybe you wouldn't act the way he did when put in the same situations, you can appreciate the way he handled himself, you can admire him and aspire to be like him. He isn't a saint though, he makes mistakes, born out of the cruelty and misery that surrounds him, betraying at times the "code" that he is supposed to protect and follow, but even then, you know that ultimately deep down he's the same person, no matter how things go.

Seeing many many irrational things in my military service, I can relate to Kaji in many ways. Seeing people who dedicate their lives to controlling others for the sake of getting promoted, to get appreciated by their superiors who actually appreciate them about as little as they appreciate their own soldiers. People who care for their own interests far more than they care for the interests of those they are in charge of, crushing their wants and needs and deeming them unimportant in the blink of an eye, while their own interests take much higher priority... People who enforce and follow strict rules that are unbending and unreasonable, with such a passion, that it makes you think any reasonable man would dismiss those people as insane, yet still, those are the people who are in charge, because they are the ones who stay in the army and dedicate their lives to it and to it's incredible stupidity, while the real reasonable people go on to dedicate their lives to do something that might actually be beneficial to humanity. This has now officially become somewhat of a rant of how terrible military life and discipline is, maybe more so than it is a review of this series of movies. But why I am saying all of this? because these observations of mine- they are accurately depicted in this movie. If only these real life people that I know were just trying to be a bit better, a bit more human, more like Kaji, maybe my impression of what the army is like wouldn't have been so gloomy as they are now. Kaji, in the films, tries-everywhere he goes-to set things right for those around him, he goes through so many terrible things, scenes that are so... Vile, and so distorted from what you think of human nature as it is in our usually comfortable modern life, and with sheer willpower, he triumphs, even if his triumph is just in him, staying alive while everything else is gone. But ultimately, does it do him any good? If he were to die in the first movie, would that have been better? saved him the suffering of everything he went through later? Well, that is for you to decide. What these films have taught me, is that no matter how it ends, it is important for a person to do what he sees as the right thing to do, and to never lose sight of what the right thing to do is... I'd define a good movie as one that makes you think at the end. It doesn't have to be a cool plot twist at the end that makes you think, it just has to be a movie complex enough but also engaging enough to make you think at the end, because you didn't have time to figure out everything you wanted while you were watching it. At the end of the third movie however, I didn't have to think of anything. I had already absorbed everything. All I wanted was to sleep, and just couldn't. My mind was empty, and I could feel only one thing- awe. And that is why I rate "The human condition" 10/10.

I'm terribly sorry if what you just read sounded like a bunch of drivel. Maybe this review is not for you, and maybe the movie is not for you. But regardless, I thank you for reading it to the very end. Have a nice day.

Masaki Kobayashi's reflection on the Japanese experience in occupying Manchuria, fighting World War II, and dealing with defeat is a staggering piece of cinema. Clocking in at just under 10 hours, "The Human Condition" – what a title! – takes us on a journey with Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) through a POW film, a war film and a survival film, tied together by a loose love story, weaving all these strands together with great care over its epic but impeccably paced run-time.

The first part sees Kaji, a young, well-to-do Japanese, begin work as labor supervisor in a POW camp in occupied Manchuria. What could have been an interesting honeymoon with new loving wife Michiko and the start to a promising career slowly devolves into a nightmare: Kaji tries to stay true to his human principles while getting increasingly tangled in a complex web that involves escaping prisoners, abusive guards, and a tyrannical, bullish army that is above the law.

As an indictment of the Japanese Imperial Army, it is all the more haunting for coming from one who served under it. And to Kobayashi's credit, never does this come across as a crass moral lecture. It is a stunning, gripping study in mounting desperation, anchored by a powerful turn from the ever-dependable Nakadai.

Japanese cinema of this period has its quirks, stylish acting and a tendency to melodrama that can bemuse Western viewers. While I find Kobayashi less impaired by these traits than many of his contemporaries – especially in the cold, restrained anger and sorrow of Harakiri, his masterpiece – he gets heroic support from his star of choice. Far from the histrionics and bravado of a Toshiro Mifune, Japan's other megastar of the 50s and early 60s, Tatsuya Nakadai's magnetic charisma is far more subdued and heartfelt. Though our hero is at times unbelievably decent, perhaps buoyed by his youthful optimism and love for his wife, Nakadai makes every situation and painful decision resonate.

The technical credits are the usual for this under-appreciated director's work: arresting visuals, sweeping movement, carefully crafted sets. And the supporting players leave their mark, with a stand-out in each episode. In this instance, particularly Kaji's conflicted assistant, originally mistakable for a simple brute, finds very different ways of dealing with his own crisis of conscience.

This is definitely a film you have to see. Just make sure you clear your schedule, as you don't want to spread the viewing chunks too thin if watching in fragments

Masaki Kobayashi's dream project was the Human Condition adaptation, and he pulled it off as a brilliantly told and filmed epic that tells of a man trying to cling to his humanity in inhuman circumstances. All three films have wonders in various supporting performances and set-pieces that astound with their moments of poetic realism, and the sum of it all makes Lord of the Rings look like kid's stuff. In the case of the first feature on the trilogy, No Greater Love, we're introduced to and see the young, idealistic and essentially good-hearted Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) as he gets a job as a labor supervisor at a POW camp in Manchuria following an impressive paper presentation. He wants to do his best, but the 'powers-that-be', which include the stalwart boss and particularly the fascistic Kempeitai (army personnel on site), keep things always on edge with tension, and as new Chinese POW's roll in and he finds himself torn: how to keep production up of the ore while also not becoming a monster just like the other "Japanese devils" to the POW's.

While the story has an immediate appeal (or rather connection-to) the Japanese public as a piece of modern history- the occupation/decimation of Manchuria and its people- none of its dramatic or emotional power is lost on me. Kobayashi is personally tied to the material very much (he himself fought in the war and immediately bought the rights to the 6-volume series when first released), but he doesn't ever get in the way of the story. Matter of fact, he's a truly amazing storyteller first and foremost; dazzlingly he interweaves the conflicts of the prisoners (i.e. Chen, the prostitutes, Kao) with Kaji's first big hurdle of conscience at the labor camp as he sees prisoners treated in horrible conditions, beaten, abused, and eventually brought to senseless deaths thanks to Furyua and his ilk, and finds himself brought to an ultimate question: can he be a human being, as opposed to another mindless monster?

Kobayashi creates scenes and moments that are in the grand and epic tradition of movies, sometimes in beautiful effect and other times showing for the sake of the horrors of wartime (for example, there will never be as harrowing an exodus from a half-dozen cattle cars as seen when the Chinese POW's exit from there to the food sacks), and is able with his wonderful DP to make intimately acted scenes in the midst of wide scapes like the outside ore mines and the cramped living quarters or caves. And damn it all if we don't get one of the great scenes in the history of movies, which is when the six "escapees" are put to execution with the prisoners, and horrified Kaji, watching in stark, gruesome detail. Everything about that one scene is just about perfect.

But as the anchor of the piece (and unlike the other two films, he's not even in every scene of this part), Tatsuya Nakadai delivers on his breakthrough performance. Kobayashi needed a bridge between pre and post-war Japan, and Nakadai is that kind of presence. But aside from being an appealing star- the kind you don't want to avert your eyes from- he's mind-blowingly talented be it in subtle bits of business or when he has to go to town in explosive emotional scenes (or, also, just a twitch under his eye in a super-tense exchange). This goes without saying other actors right alongside him- Aratama, Yamamura, Manbara- are perfectly cast as supervisor, prisoner, prostitute, wife alike to Kaji. And yet, for all the praise worth giving to the film, one that gets even better in its second half than its first, this is only the first part!

Kobayashi's "The Human Condition" is one of a handful of great anti-war movies. While Japanese film has confronted its own crimes of war more than other cinema, I am only familiar with one other Japanese movie which deals directly with the war & the plight of conscientious objectors: Kurosawa's "No Regrets for Our Youth". Many films deal with the futility of war: "Seven Samurai" & "Yojimbo" come immediately to mind. But "Human Condition" takes on the enormity of war, & the means by which everyone becomes complicit in its total corruption. The hero, though a Conscientious Objector, becomes a colonial occupier, an exploiter of slave labor, an employer of a madam who runs a camp of women & girls impressed into prostitution, & generally runs the gamut of crimes against humanity while trying to maintain his virtue & love's beauty.

Parts II & III also explore the brutality of the army toward its own soldiers, & the complete desecration of the ideals of the Russian Revolution & the cruelty of ordinary Chinese villagers.

"The Human Condition" should be ranked with "Grand Illusion", though what could be as lyrical as the Renoir film? If only this were require viewing in all military academies. If only it were required viewing for all lawmakers & the executive. Is that asking too much?

This is an excellent film about one man attempting to change the system. Kaji brings his youthful enthusiasm, idealism, and humanism against a cruel, unjust machine. The acting, direction, and cinematography are all world class. This is a gripping film which will leave you yearning for part two. This is just the start of a stunning epic.

In the World War II, the pacifist and humanist Japanese Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) accepts to travel with his wife Michiko (Michiyo Aratama) to the tiny Manchurian village Loh Hu Liong to work as supervisor in an iron ore mine to avoid to be summoned to the military service. Kaji, who defends communists principles, works with Okishima (Sô Yamamura) and he implements a better treatment to the laborers and improves the mine production.

When the feared Kempetai (The "Military Police Corps", the military police arm of the Imperial Japanese Army from 1881 to 1945) brings six hundred Chinese POWs to the mine, Kaji negotiates with their leaders expecting them to control their comrades. However the methods of Kaji upset the corrupt system in the site, and the foreman Furuya (Kôji Mitsui) plots a scheme to use the naive Chen (Akira Ishihama) to turn off the electrical power of the barbwire fences to allow the prisoners to escape.

When seven prisoners are falsely accused of an attempt of fleeing, a cruel Kempetai sergeant uses his sword to behead the prisoners. When Kaji protests, the POWs react sparing the lives of four prisoners but Kaji is arrested and tortured. When he is released, he is summoned to join the army and accused of being Red.

"The Human Condition – Parts I & II" is the anti-war masterpiece by Masaki Kobayashi. The story is impressively realistic and magnificently shot with top-notch camera work, giving the sensation of a documentary. I bought the box released by the Criterion approximately one year ago, and only today I have just watched the two first DVD with about 400 minutes running time. Tomorrow I will finish watching this masterpiece. My vote is ten.

Title (Brazil): Not Available

This film was hugely popular when it came out around 1960, reflecting the fiercely anti-war sentiment of the Japanese at the time. I have read that for a time when it came out, all three parts of The Human Condition (totaling nine and one-half hours) were shown in a single sitting at theaters in northern Tokyo, starting around 10 pm and ending in time for people to catch the trains home the next morning.

While it is a powerful film which portrays much of the suffering and brutality visited on the Chinese in Manchuria by the Japanese war machine, it is not without some rather unlikely plot twists. In particular, Kaji seems somewhat too saint-like to be believable.

It is worth mentioning that the title "The Human Condition" is perhaps misleading. The Japanese word "jouken" corresponding to "condition" is not normally used in a descriptive sense, but rather, as a condition to be fulfilled or satisfied. Thus the title might be better rendered "The Conditions for Being Human"--the implication being that in wartime, the conditions for remaining fully human are elusive at best.

"No Greater Love" is the first part of the 9 hours 47 minutes trilogy directed by Masaki Kobayashi based on the six-volume novel by Junpei Gomikawa. A captivating, haunting, and touching anti-war epic film where Kobayashi masterfully criticizes and confronts the Japanese practices and applications via WW2 through a self-righteous character who is trying to "catch the train of humanism before it's too late".

Kaji is a socialist and a pacifist with great morals. His self- righteousness is shown from the first beginning when he refuses to sleep with his girlfriend for the concern of being enlisted soon in the army and not be able to fulfill his duties towards her. He has his own theories and principles also in dealing with work environment and laborers. He gets a job offer to be a supervisor in an iron mine in a small Manchurian village. Since he opposes war, he accepts it as his only way out of conscription. He also gets to be with his girlfriend (they soon marry).

Kaji now in his new work faces moral dilemmas that prove day by day not to be easier than those he was going to face in the military. He struggles with the old, brutal, and oppressive mentalities. Things get nastier when 600 Chinese men are brought to the mine as prisoners of war.. plots, deceptions, racism, torture.. the list goes on. Many try to shake his convictions by convincing him that the theories may prove wrong when applied, and also that peace theories do not apply in war time. His answer was that either the theories are wrong or they were faultily applied. Yet, even his wife doubts his intentions for a moment.. will he surrender?

Kobayashi's humanist film is a delicate study of the human psychology during hardships and the capabilities of the man to stand still and fight for what is right. It is also a sincere revision to a difficult era in Japanese history, reacting responsibly in opening a new page for the coming generations. "It's not my fault that I'm Japanese.. yet, it's my worst crime that I am", states Kaji. What can we do to deserve this beautiful name "man", one prisoner ask him.

Kaji represents in his fight to become the man not the beast all humanity not only of course the Japanese.. every generation from the first beginning. The masterful Kobayashi contributes greatly to this epic film with extraordinary execution.. and Tatsuya Nakadai was a great choice for the leading role. A piece of art considered by many to be one of the greatest ever.

As the title implies it's a film that takes itself verrrrrry seriously. How seriously, exactly? Well, let's just say that had Stanley Kramer grown up Japanese and collaborated with a screenwriter with even less humor than Abby Mann this could well have been the result. Or, to put it another way, the soapbox is as ubiquitous to this film as the dolly. Bottom line: No way am I signing on for nine plus hours of this stiff crap. Give it a C.

An interesting film that portrays the struggles of an idealistic young Japanese man who is challenged to employ his idealism in the service of the Japanese war effort in WW II. A key aspect of this struggle is the protagonist's struggle within himself. Kaji, the young man, seeks to humanize the brutal conditions at a mining operation in Manchuria. Further complicating matters is the profound sense of national prejudice that shapes the relationships between the various characters. To the workers & Chinese prisoners, regardless of his professed ideals, Kaji is Japanese and therefore an oppressor. Although Kaji tries to win their trust, his own frustration enables him to strike a young Chinese helper, reinforcing the image of the brutal Japanese. This weakness is a key underlying theme. Even late in the film, when he takes a very brave stand against some executions, his effort is a bit late and his stand is successful only when the Chinese prisoners take up the protest. He struggles because her fears he cannot live up to the ideals he expresses.

Kaji is also confronted with the another irony. Although he opposes the war, he has chosen a route of avoidance rather than resistance. This is emphasized early in the film during an evening with a friend who is about to be inducted. His friend comments that, although they opposed the war, neither of them was brave enough to face the penalty for resistance of life imprisonment. Shortly thereafter, he takes the mine job to get a military exemption. Yet, if he is successful, the production improvements in the mine only fuel the Japanese war machine.

A valuable film because it explores areas of the pacific war that are not well know in the west. Also an interesting observation in the danger of half-measures when taking a moral stance. Kaji is ultimately confronted with the fact that you cannot avoid the war, only oppose it or aid it. I look forward to viewing the next film.

This is the first of three very long movies that are based on Jumpei Gomikawa's six-volume series. It is set during WWII and is about a Japanese man named Kaji. Kaji is a very liberal man for the times--something that COULD be very dangerous in the militaristic Japanese society. When he's called up to fight in the war, he's torn. He's basically a pacifist at heart and cannot see himself killing another. Luckily for him, his boss gives him a choice--report for military duty or go off to Japanese occupied territory to be the production head for a forced labor camp. Not surprisingly, he goes to work at the camp--and takes his new wife with him.

When he sees the camp, Kaji is angered--the soldiers brutalize the workers and have absolutely no regard for them. The camp is also rife with corruption. He insists that the beatings MUST stop and he is opposed by the staff--but he's not willing to budge and he has the authority to make it stick. Fortunately, when the workers are better few and treated well, production increases dramatically. However, when there are prison escapes, the hardliners press for a return to brutality. After all, they feel, these aren't exactly humans--just Chinese and Korean conscripts and, worse, Japanese political prisoners. What is Kaji to do? As the film progresses, to save himself he may need to forget about his high ideals. But, can he live with himself? And what about his marriage? Because of the job, he's withdrawn and miserable--and a lousy husband. I'd say more, but this would ruin the film.

Overall, an excellent film that is worth seeing. I am excited to see what happens in the second film, as at the end of the first there is a BIG twist and Kaji's world has been turned upside down in the process. My only question is could this film STILL be a bit sanitized? From what I've read about these camps, they were MUCH more brutal than even the film portrayed.

This is one of the big reasons why I decided to do a Masaki Kobayashi survey. I'd seen the film many moons ago and bought it a couple of years ago, but it's hard to find time for a ten-hour film. Getting knee deep in director filmographies became the perfect excuse to find the time to revisit it, and so here we are with the first third of a film about the Japanese character during World War II, the degradation of a man, a prominent Japanese pacificist exorcising some demons all at the same time.

Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai) is a deskbound worker in a Japanese mining firm in Manchuria where he presents some ideas to his superior about what could be done to help increase production through the treatment of labor. Told that his ideas should be tried out in the field, he's offered the position of head of labor at an iron mining camp deep in the countryside and, in exchange, he'll be allowed a military deferment. Though he's been lucky enough to avoid conscription up to this point, he's been unwilling to marry his sweetheart Michiko (Michiyo Aratama), but with his deferment and new post, they marry and are off. Kaji quickly finds both friends and enemies at the mining camp, most particularly Okishima (So Yamamura), his assistant who has been at the mining camp for some time, and Furuya (Koji Mitsui), a foreman in one of the pits that is happy to use brutality against the workers.

Kaji's ideas amount to, essentially, treat the workers well and they'll more likely return to work, and with an increased workforce, they'll be able to meet their quotas and any increases possible as well. Before he gets a chance to fully implement any ideas, though, the Japanese police in Manchuria present them with six-hundred prisoners of war that they will take on as special laborers. They must build a prison camp for them, separate them from the regular workers, and get them to work. When they arrive, they have been literally baking in train cars from the front for days to the point where twelve of them die. Kaji uses what little influence he has to let the prisoners rest for a month before they get to work, and so sets up the main conflict of the film: Kaji standing between the Japanese authorities and the humanity of the Chinese prisoners of war.

Humanism is the word of the film, and the whole journey is a test of it within Kaji. He started the film behind a desk with theories, and he's given the chance to implement them in practice. Practice is extraordinarily messy, though, with competing interests like that of the Japanese empire on the tail end of the Battle of Midway and steadily losing the war (dates aren't mentioned specifically, but there's talk early of the surrender of Italy which puts the action in the latter half of 1943), the director of the mining camp needing to maintain his status, the Japanese police needing to maintain face, and the need of bad men to let out their anger on weaker men. Can the humanist ideal thrive in such a place and time? Can it even exist? The progress of the film is one of a downward trend, where Kaji must compromise himself in event after event just to maintain his place in order to continue his efforts to extend the hand of humanism towards the prisoners under his charge.

It is helped none at all by the fact that the Chinese prisoners do not wish to be there and keep escaping. Using the split sympathies of a Chinese by birth, but Japanese by sentiment, young man on the outside named Chen (Akira Ishihama), they organize several breakouts that the company cannot keep admitting to the police. It looks bad on them, and it could lead to removal of positions, including Kaji's. A house of ill repute is also nearby, and under Kaji's supervision, and he has to send some women into the camp to help with the prisoners' morale. It is here that a sweet little romance develops between Kao (Koji Nanbara), a Chinese prisoner who speaks little Japanese, and Chun Lan (Ineko Arima), a prostitute. They grow to love each other with promises from each side to marry as soon as they can, perhaps when the war is over. Of course, in this world, happiness cannot last.

Punishments reign down for escapes. Furuya is working under cover of darkness to help the escapes because of his animosity to Kaji as well as his desire to make some money from the endeavor. Kaji is stifled at every turn, and even his efforts to treat everyone like a man comes up against Okishima leading to the two butting heads. When an a group of workers suddenly flee in the face of a foreman with a whip in the middle of the day, including Kao, all are accused of attempting to escape, and they are all sentenced to death. This is Kaji's breaking point, and he finally finds a way to claim that title he so desire of a human, but it costs him everything.

Behind all of this is Michiko, the ever-loving and understanding (though she doesn't always succeed because Kaji doesn't communicate that much with her) wife who must bear the brunt of Kaji's failings, feeling isolated in her prim little Japanese-style house with nothing to do and no one to connect with. Still, she remains by his side, trying to find ways to keep him happy, even if that includes accepting stolen flour to make him a treat. When Kaji's ultimate punishment comes through, his military deferral is revoked and he's sent to the army, she can do nothing but try to make his final 24-hours of liberty comfortable while Chun Lan screams at him that he's a Japanese devil, no different from anyone else.

As the first stage of Kaji's journey, this still feels oddly complete. If there were no more to the story, the ending would feel appropriate and final, if still slightly open to what could happen. As a film in two parts, the two parts couldn't be separated from each other, but this entire third could be seen on its own as just one story. It feeds directly into Parts II and III where Kaji's journeys take him into the military and, eventually, a Soviet prisoner of war camp as the first part of the degradation of a man of ideals. He's not idealogue, but an idealist, confronted by a world and system that grinds him down. No, this isn't fun stuff, but I see it as essential.

Masaki Kobayashi, in adapting the novel by Junpei Gomikawa in ten hours (for the same studio that forced Kurosawa to cut The Idiot in half, mind you), finally made his first great film after flirting with it several times over the previous decade, and it's a doozy of a great film. This is Kobayashi working through his own personal demons while telling an epic story and damning his own country for its crimes over the previous twenty years.

The Human Condition is a trilogy of three films of over nine hours in total length. This was the first of the trilogy, and in my opinion, the best of the three. The film clearly illustrates why, to this day, the Chinese hate the Japanese for the events of the Japanese Occupation from 1937 to 1945. The setting of the film is in Manchuria, where a series of chaotic events took place from 1937 to 1949. First, it was the Japanese invading and ruling the area, then the Russians, and finally the Communist Chinese. This film explores the early part of these events and the harrowing experiences for everyone involved, as the prison officials eventually become prisoners themselves under other regimes. A fascinating look at little-known Chinese History with great direction and acting. Kobayashi proves to be one of the greatest of all directors in Japanese cinema.

So again, Letterboxd presents to me a trilogy I was not familiar of. Or maybe I was (I did see other movies from Masaki Kobayashi) but because of the run-time I completely forgot about it. No surprise from me here...when I see an unnecessarily long movie I am not always on board for various reasons I will not get into. In this case, I would have been wrong.

The first part in the trilogy is actually comprised of two movies of average length. Easy to follow, sufficiently detailed and full of useful dialog with just a couple of scenes that were not fully needed but are welcome nonetheless. The acting is of its age, the directing and blocking never falters in the entire 208 minutes of this part and the story is interesting enough. Not all elements aged very well, like the realionship of the main character with his wife but no matter. It's a small thing.

Even so, it is not an easy movie to recommend. Were it easier if it was comprised of 60 minute episodes? Yes...but then again it's not always about that. The subject matter has to interest you. It is a universally moral theme but it is still heavily dependent on the politics of a part of world we're not easily connected to, culturally or geographically.

I started this, I will finish it. But not in one sitting.

The Human Condition I: No Greater Love is less about the general human condition and more about human decency. It explores how people should treat their fellow man, and what connects us all despite divisions we create based on race and nationality. It took some time for this story to establish itself and get me engaged, but it's fairly easy to get on the side of Kaji and his intelligent strategy to get the Chinese POWs to work harder. Once I was about halfway through the movie I was fully invested in his journey, and felt the pain and frustration right along with him. I will say, and I hate admitting this because it sounds ridiculously racist, but there were some scenes where I struggled to tell certain characters apart, and the narrative got a bit muddled for me because of that.

I often take issue with long movies and The Human Condition I: No Greater Love is certainly a marathon (and this is only part 1 of a film series.) I can't say it was always a thrill-a-minute movie, but it didn't feel as long as I expected. I was intrigued and couldn't wait to see where the story would go next. By the end, I was devastated and felt that the journey had been quite powerful. That being said, it's not a "fun" film in any sense of the word. It seems that nearly every scene is piling the weight of the world on Kaji. He's such a sympathetic and likable man, but he keeps getting screwed by everyone around him while also taking all the blame. I appreciate the superior film-making and story-telling that is involved in The Human Condition I: No Greater Love, and can see why it is lauded by many as a real great of Japanese cinema. Perhaps someday I'll explore the other films in this series.

Late in WW2, Kaji (Tatsuya Nakadai), a young Japanese socialist and pacifist, agrees to avoid military service by taking a position overseeing conscripted Chinese workers in remote mine in Manchuria where he soon finds his principles challenged by corruption, racism and casual brutality. 'No Greater Love' is the first part of Masaki Kobayashi's epic 9+ hour 'The Human Condition' trilogy, which follows Kaji as he is rebels against the inhumane conditions faced by the indentured Chinese workers, is then forced to serve in Japanese army on Manchuria in the dying days of WW2 (after Russia declared war on Japan), and ultimately becomes a POW, only to find that the Soviets, who he had admired, were no less corrupt and brutal than the Imperial military, which he despised. At 208 minutes, film is quite long and 'talky' but remains compelling entertainment. I watched the film in Japanese with well-done English subtitles, and the acting, especially Nakadai and Michiyo Aratama as Michiko, his devoted but long-suffering wife, is superb, and some of the scenes in the mines or in the worker's camp, which involved hundreds of extras, are outstanding. The film's pacifist message is not subtle and many issues that remain flash-points in Asian politics are touched on, notably the forced conscription of Chinese women to serve as prostitutes, both for the Japanese soldiers and, as 'bribes' for the Chinese workers. An excellent film from one of Japan's great directors.

This seems like a promising, provocative movie, but the subtitles are so out of sync that I can't make sense of it. Trying to follow the dialogue is giving me a headache. I truly regret this.

The greatest film ever made! And I've seen many, many films. This even supercedes The Seven Samurai which I consider a masterwork. The Human Condition is 10 hours and in 3 movies. A stunning performance by Tatsuya Nakadai. Find the 3 parts, hie yourself off to a monastery and watch them, with a bit of a breather between each movie. Stroheim's Greed was about 10 hours before the Hollywood hacks cut it back. This one is intact. It is subtitled and not dubbed.