Yashagaike

I am on a quest to find American distribution of the Japanese film, Yasha-ga-ike (1979) Demon Pond, by Director, Masahiro Shinoda.

Summary: It is an extraordinary and beautiful cinematic experience. It was artistically, emotionally, and imaginatively powerful. I was drawn into the film, like the main character is drawn into the magical realm of the "Lady of the Lake." It is a transcendent adventure story and romance, that evokes the relationship between humans and the natural world, and everyday life and the life of the imagination. I was transformed by the magic of the film.

I rate it as one of my favorite films of all time, along with Cocteau's Orphee.

I saw the film in the 1980's,in the Toyo Theater (a Japanese Theater) in Seattle. The Toyo Theater no longer exists. I have looked a number of times, but I can't find the film anywhere. I know that it played in Seattle again at an Art Museum in the 1990's, but I wasn't able to see it then.

I would also like to show Yasha-ga-ike to students, and perhaps combine it with Ugitsu, or Orphee.

I would love to see the film again. Does anyone know where or how to find it in America?

YASHAGAIKE (Demon Pond) has been missing from the Home Video Market for far too long (as in forever). How very strange that one of the few examples of Bando Tamasaburo's art, and perhaps his most accessible to the west, is so little known. I first saw this film on the late-lamented "Z Channel" in Los Angeles in the early 1980's and have always wanted to become reacquainted with it. If memory serves, it was such a surprise to see so many genres, visual styles of scenery, costume, lighting and period assembled with such naiveté in one film. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that it is not readily available. Also, my one viewing on television gave the impression of already fading non-technicolor processing. I hope that this is wrong. Yet, anyone who has seen "Das Geschriebene Gesicht" by Daniel Schmid (only available on PAL at the present), or Tamasaburo's collaboration with Yo-Yo-Ma in his Bach series will be anxious to see anything by the great Kabuki onnagata. Perhaps "Natassia" will appear some day.

I fully admit that I sat to watch with a double disadvantage. For one thing, not being from Japan, I assume there are ideas herein that would bear much more significance for someone who is, and therefore I might well be missing something from my viewing experience. Secondly, I was so exhausted as I sat to watch that I actually passed out for several hours all told, and what should have been two hours became more like eight or nine. Then again, it's hardly as if this is the first Japanese film to be firmly rooted in Japanese folklore or culture, and I've enjoyed many others immensely. And while a middling or bad film might put an alert person to sleep, a good film usually has the effect, in my experience, of rousing me when I am drowsy, and that didn't happen here. And beyond these secondary or tertiary considerations, it must be mentioned as the foremost criticism that the single most defining trait of 'Demon pond' is a laboriously slow pace. I speak partly to Shinoda Masahiro's direction, if not also to Ikeda Zen and Yamachi Sachiko's editing, for the pacing within individual scenes as they are executed is all but reduced to soporific slow motion. However, I do also speak to the plot development, for not a lot actually happens over two hours, and even as scenes and the plot are written it is with a certain sense of lethargy.

I'm not familiar with Izumi Kyoko's play, and in the strictest of terms I can't speak to this as an adaptation. I can only judge the picture on its own merits, and to that end, Tamura Tsutomu and Mimura Haruhiko give us a story that's quite compelling once it meaningfully picks up. It is also, however, a story that reserves all its drama and hearty if recognizable themes for the back end; in turn, it is a story that probably could have seen fair portions omitted such that it would have comfortably fit into a feature that was shorter by between thirty and sixty minutes. The acting is earnest and commendable, the sets and lighting are lovely, and a lot of hard work went into the costume design, hair, and makeup. I deeply appreciate the practical effects that are employed. Yet apart from the slothful pacing, what most catches my attention is the original music of Tomita Isao, an airy, synth-driven soundtrack of somber ambience that quite recalls Tangerine Dream's flavorful dalliances with fantasy. I do also like the narrative, yes, but in all earnestness this is so meagerly paced that it is considerably longer than it needed to be or should have been. If 'Demon pond' had been as rich, engaging, and judiciously rendered for its full length as it was in the last forty-five minutes or so, I can guarantee that my evening would have looked much different.

I think this movie is fine. It's also plainly flawed, though, and those flaws are easily discernible in how the writing, direction, and editing treat the material, severely diminishing its strength. All that was necessary was for the same vitality we see toward the end to have been applied throughout. As that is not what happened, I find it difficult to offer an especial recommendation. It's still duly worthwhile, perhaps, on account of what it does well, but I couldn't begrudge anyone who finds the initial deliberation so off-putting that they stop watching and never see the value that this does have to offer.

Myth and superstition hold center stage in Masahiro Shinoda's fantastic tale of a haunted mountain lake in the remote Japanese hinterland, home of the beautiful Dragon Queen and her myriad spirit consorts. While investigating an obscure reference on a pre-war map of the region, a traveling schoolteacher happens upon a nearby village where the inhabitants suffer a terrible drought rather than disturb the underwater demon, whose release is checked by the ritual sounding of a sacred bell. The film moves from magic realism to theatrical stylization and back again as the boundary between the natural and the supernatural slowly narrows and disappears, until the ignorant and bitter villagers finally unleash an apocalypse which has to be seen to be believed. It's an accomplished and often extraordinary blend of mystery, legend, humor and horror, featuring an appropriately odd (but now sadly dated) Moog synthesizer soundtrack by Isao Tomita.

It's never a good thing when a mob of villagers approach with torches, is it? I loved the setup to this which had a teacher arriving to a remote, eerie place without much dialogue - the spiky trees, suspension bridge, and curvy houses all set the scene. And in case the villagers at the funeral weren't odd enough, a woman whips her breast out and squirts some milk into his eye to help him with some dust that's bothering him. Then he learns of the legend that a bell must be run three times a day in order to keep the dragon god who resides in the demon pond at bay, lest the town be flooded and everyone perish. Nothing can go wrong with this requirement, can it?

The problem I had with the film was its lengthy, laborious middle section, one that seemed to crawl along at a snail's pace. That was despite the sudden and bizarre appearance of a crab-man and catfish-man, the latter of whom reminded me of the cowardly lion from The Wizard of Oz with his facial expressions. There just wasn't enough to this fable for it to be told over 124 minutes, and in the meanwhile, most of the aesthetics in the scenery I had liked early on had been replaced with sets that were less appealing to me. Kind of a struggle to get through, but a nice finish.